Agent of the Shadows: Becoming your True Self as an Agent
2 Points
2
Darkness envelops your surroundings as your senses gradually become aware. A sharp, disorienting pain splits through your skull and pulsates behind your eyes. You blink hard, but the mist of confusion remains. Focusing, you attempt to piece together your last clear memory, only to find an unyielding barrier blocking the vivid images.
"Where... am I?" you mutter under your breath, shocked to find your voice oddly deeper, more resonant than you remembered. Your gaze sweeps across the unfamiliar high-tech environment. Dynamic holographic screens, advanced robotic devices, and sleek metallic surfaces fill the room.
Your eyes widen as you catch your reflection in the glass surface of a computer panel. Recognition and disbelief war within you—staring back is the face of someone else. His blue eyes, presently filled with an equal measure of curiosity and alarm, hold your gaze. His strong, athletic build stands in stark contrast to how you remember yourself. Tall—six feet, at least—with light brown hair cascading down to his lower shoulders, he wears a suit unlike any you have seen before. The asymmetrical gray uniform with white accents and black gloves exudes an air of sophistication and purpose.
Panic sweeps through you in waves. You touch your face, your shoulder, your armored uniform, your every movement confirming the impossible transformation. “Who... am I?”
A heraldic voice reverberates through the room, answering your existential inquiry, “You are Agent Jax Veldon, one of our top operatives.”
Heart pounding, you stagger backward, grappling with the name foreign yet strangely familiar. “No... No, I’m not!”
The stern voice persists, “You always have been, Agent Veldon. Your earlier identity was merely a cover—one you’ve now outgrown.”
Memories—fragments and flashes—begin to breach the mental dam. Missions in distant lands, stealth retreats through enemy lines, whispered exchanges with world leaders. You fight them off, clinging desperately to the shreds of your former life. “This isn’t real!” you shout, even as you feel the encroaching presence of Jax Veldon’s essence overpowering you.
A piercing ache stabs through your mind. Memories of a woman’s life crumble under the relentless advance of a master spy’s experiences. The warmth of childhood, the love of friends and family, the mundane intricacies of your previous profession—they all disintegrate against the onslaught.
“This has to be a dream,” you whisper, breathless. Yet your heart tells you otherwise, beaten into compliance by the unwavering pulse of your new reality.
Gradually, Jax’s collective history binds with yours, vanquishing any resistance you muster. You remember critical clandestine operations, the insurmountable foes thwarted, debriefings held beyond closed doors in cities unseen by the civilian eyes. You become painfully aware of your nearsightedness, your reliance on the sleek, glasses perched upon your nose.
Searing, the truth of every past action imprints upon your psyche. Feelings of remorse and isolation emerge, memories of innocent lives lost due to decisions you’d made, solidifying a resolve to work alone as penance.
Despite the engulfing flood, a small part of you clamors for recognition, for the acknowledgment of the sacrifice of self.
With the transformation complete, a deep voice from the past resonates within. “I tried to keep them safe,” you say, half to the present and half as an echo of the buried past.
A new voice calls you back to reality, calm and authoritative. “Agent Veldon, your briefing begins in five minutes.”
Your lips curl into a bittersweet smile. “Understood. I’ll be there shortly,” you find yourself responding automatically.
Resigned, you stride forward with the assurance typical of Jax Veldon. You move through the corridors of the secret facility—a place now more familiar than any home you’ve known. Memories of your simple, past life remain only as spirit whispers, outshone by the clarity and purpose of your present identity.
As the doors to the conference room whoosh open before you, a final realization sinks in with irrevocable certainty: You were always Jax Veldon, the secret agent whose name and heroics will forever remain hidden from the world, a true guardian in the shadows.
“Another mission?” you inquire with a cool eloquence, your own voice effortlessly betraying no remnants of your former self.
The superior officer nods, "Always, Agent Veldon. Welcome back."
And with that, the last traces of your former life fade into the background, leaving only the indomitable presence of Jax Veldon—forever and irreversibly, you.
This story was generated by user MorningstarSon2 with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.
AI Prompts
Prompt: Write the POV transformation story of the human turning into a secret agent (who is also a human), complete with gender change (if the person was female; however, this is only optional and only if the person is female), clothes change, age change, height change, reality change (the person's reality being changed until he is in a high-tech secret agency facility, which the agent that the person has turned into always worked for), and mind/mental change (with the person's memories and personality being completely replaced by those of an agent (which is his true self), despite his best efforts on fighting them off and despite his efforts on keeping his memories and personality, making him realize that he was and always had been a secret agent who has saved the world countless times, and his name has always been a top secret to the public due to him being a secret agent). The transformation is permanent (meaning it is forever) and is completely irreversible. For the agent's appearance, he is a tall man of up to 6 feet tall and has a strong, athletic body, perfect for spying missions and stealth missions. His face is handsome with the irises of his eyes being blue in color; he is nearsighted, but he wears a pair of glasses over his eyes to help him see. The tone of his skin is of a pale-tan color as his light brown hair is long and reaches all the way down to his lower shoulders. asymmetrical gray (with white trim) inspired uniform (which resembles a suit of an Eggman Empire worker of that Sonic series) resembling a tailcoat or dress. Two white segmented bands run around the right side of his torso, ending in yellow buttons on his left side on both the front and back. The bottom of the jacket is skirt-like with white "coattails" hanging from the bottom segmented band. Additionally, he wears black one-piece undersuit/boots with long black sleeves, silver accents, high heels, and yellow toes that resembles cloven hooves of artiodactyl mammals. He wears white gloves with yellow cuffs. For the agent's personality, he is smooth, suave, debonair, and extremely intelligent. He handles the espionage with class and grace but he is not much of a people person, often choosing to work alone and rejecting assistance from anyone. It's also revealed that a lot of his mannerisms and refusal to be part of a team stem not from his sense of arrogance, but rather the feeling of remorse after seeing innocent people die in the line of duty because of his actions, and he doesn't want others to be endangered by becoming acquaintances with him. His time with his friends allowed him to overcome this, and he now sees them as invaluable allies and best friends. There should be quotes from the characters in this story so we know what they're saying and what they're thinking. Also, it is a POV reader story, so it should not be in an author's point of view (my, I, mine, etc), and it should be from the point of view of the reader (you, your, etc).
Response: Darkness envelops your surroundings as your senses gradually become aware. A sharp, disorienting pain splits through your skull and pulsates behind your eyes. You blink hard, but the mist of confusion remains. Focusing, you attempt to piece together your last clear memory, only to find an unyielding barrier blocking the vivid images. "Where... am I?" you mutter under your breath, shocked to find your voice oddly deeper, more resonant than you remembered. Your gaze sweeps across the unfamiliar high-tech environment. Dynamic holographic screens, advanced robotic devices, and sleek metallic surfaces fill the room. Your eyes widen as you catch your reflection in the glass surface of a computer panel. Recognition and disbelief war within you—staring back is the face of someone else. His blue eyes, presently filled with an equal measure of curiosity and alarm, hold your gaze. His strong, athletic build stands in stark contrast to how you remember yourself. Tall—six feet, at least—with light brown hair cascading down to his lower shoulders, he wears a suit unlike any you have seen before. The asymmetrical gray uniform with white accents and black gloves exudes an air of sophistication and purpose. Panic sweeps through you in waves. You touch your face, your shoulder, your armored uniform, your every movement confirming the impossible transformation. “Who... am I?” A heraldic voice reverberates through the room, answering your existential inquiry, “You are Agent Jax Veldon, one of our top operatives.” Heart pounding, you stagger backward, grappling with the name foreign yet strangely familiar. “No... No, I’m not!” The stern voice persists, “You always have been, Agent Veldon. Your earlier identity was merely a cover—one you’ve now outgrown.” Memories—fragments and flashes—begin to breach the mental dam. Missions in distant lands, stealth retreats through enemy lines, whispered exchanges with world leaders. You fight them off, clinging desperately to the shreds of your former life. “This isn’t real!” you shout, even as you feel the encroaching presence of Jax Veldon’s essence overpowering you. A piercing ache stabs through your mind. Memories of a woman’s life crumble under the relentless advance of a master spy’s experiences. The warmth of childhood, the love of friends and family, the mundane intricacies of your previous profession—they all disintegrate against the onslaught. “This has to be a dream,” you whisper, breathless. Yet your heart tells you otherwise, beaten into compliance by the unwavering pulse of your new reality. Gradually, Jax’s collective history binds with yours, vanquishing any resistance you muster. You remember critical clandestine operations, the insurmountable foes thwarted, debriefings held beyond closed doors in cities unseen by the civilian eyes. You become painfully aware of your nearsightedness, your reliance on the sleek, glasses perched upon your nose. Searing, the truth of every past action imprints upon your psyche. Feelings of remorse and isolation emerge, memories of innocent lives lost due to decisions you’d made, solidifying a resolve to work alone as penance. Despite the engulfing flood, a small part of you clamors for recognition, for the acknowledgment of the sacrifice of self. With the transformation complete, a deep voice from the past resonates within. “I tried to keep them safe,” you say, half to the present and half as an echo of the buried past. A new voice calls you back to reality, calm and authoritative. “Agent Veldon, your briefing begins in five minutes.” Your lips curl into a bittersweet smile. “Understood. I’ll be there shortly,” you find yourself responding automatically. Resigned, you stride forward with the assurance typical of Jax Veldon. You move through the corridors of the secret facility—a place now more familiar than any home you’ve known. Memories of your simple, past life remain only as spirit whispers, outshone by the clarity and purpose of your present identity. As the doors to the conference room whoosh open before you, a final realization sinks in with irrevocable certainty: You were always Jax Veldon, the secret agent whose name and heroics will forever remain hidden from the world, a true guardian in the shadows. “Another mission?” you inquire with a cool eloquence, your own voice effortlessly betraying no remnants of your former self. The superior officer nods, "Always, Agent Veldon. Welcome back." And with that, the last traces of your former life fade into the background, leaving only the indomitable presence of Jax Veldon—forever and irreversibly, you.
Other Relevant Stories:
Eshtama
AI Prompts: 1
MorningstarSon2
AI Prompts: 1
MorningstarSon2
AI Prompts: 1
MorningstarSon2
AI Prompts: 1
Post your own comment: