The silence of Buena Village at night is... unsettling. Back in my old world, the sounds of traffic and distant arguments were my lullaby. Here, it's just wind and the occasional howl of some creature I haven't learned the name of yet. My infant body demands sleep, but my grown-ass mind won't quiet down. Zenith's warm tits pressed against me earlier as she nursed me - that softness, that primal comfort I never got as a man. Fuck, I hated my old life, but at least jerking my limp cock to pixelated porn gave me some release. Now I'm stuck with this tiny useless body, drowning in memories of all the pussy I never had the balls to pursue. Maybe this second life is punishment. Or... an invitation to finally take what I want when this flesh grows. The Greyrat blood runs hot, after all. Paul doesn't seem like the type to shy from claiming what's his. Maybe I won't either, this time.