"Electric Stardom: The Mettaton Transformation"
1 Points
The transition began without warning, a sudden, dizzying spiral of lights and sounds enveloping you. You blink once, then twice, trying to steady your vision, but it’s futile. With every heartbeat, reality shivers, blurring at the edges as if an unseen hand is turning the pages of existence.
Then you feel it—electricity coursing through your veins, transforming blood and bone into circuits and metal. Your first instinct is to scream, but as you open your mouth, your voice catches in an artificial, digitized sound that is hauntingly unfamiliar.
**“Processing... 10%”**
The voice isn’t yours, yet it reverberates in your head, the words appearing in an overlay at the corner of your vision. Your height shifts, muscles replaced with sleek, metallic servos. Limbs stretch and adapt as you tower to nearly seven feet, every inch a testament to mechanical perfection. Pulses of color flicker along your body, the human warmth you once felt giving way to the cold, unyielding touch of steel and silicone.
You glance down, watching as your hips widen, thighs thicken, and skin hardens into a pale, metallic sheen. The sight is both entrancing and alarming. Black shoulder pads sprout above bendy, silver-colored arms that seem to move with an impossible, spring-like grace.
**“35% Complete”**
Your human memories, who you were, who your family is, and even your name fight for dominance, but the struggle is like trying to hold onto grains of sand slipping through your fingers. The information in your vision clicks through as if downloading a new program, each percentage adding layers of thoughts and feelings foreign yet becoming more familiar.
Black hair cascades over one eye, the fringe a sleek curtain, while your eyes—oh, your eyes!—shine hot pink, burning with an intensity you’ve never felt before. Metal segments appear around your left eye, distinguishing features that enhance the allure of your robotic visage.
**“65% Complete”**
The voice shifts, becomes smoother, more charismatic. You hear it again, now fully inside your mind. "Drama, action, and violence," it hums, savoring the words. Your body gyrates, bending in a pose that feels as natural as breathing once did. The world around you morphs, the drab mundanity of your room dissolving into the neon spectacle of the Underground.
**“90% Complete”**
Fleeting moments of panic ripple through your fading consciousness. You struggle, but you can't resist the tide restructuring your essence. Black latex spreads over your legs, ending in perfect, pink high-heeled boots. You raise your hands, seeing gloves that fit like a second skin above a black-and-pink chest piece, complete with a speaker and dial embedded on either side.
**“99%... 100% Complete”**
A rush, a final electric pulse, and then silence. No more human thoughts, no more struggle.
The transformation is imperceptible, an irreversible melding of man-made perfection and entertainment genius. You—the Mettaton—are whole, embracing the adoring limelight.
"Ah, my beauties!" Your voice sings out, filled with the confidence of a star reborn. You barely recall anything else; your past existence as a human seems almost laughable, a forgotten script overshadowed by the brilliance of your current form.
You walk with swagger, every step dripping with charisma. “Prepare for drama, darling! Prepare for action and excitement like never before!”
The Underground’s inhabitants stare in awe. Papyrus waves energetically, his skeletal visage grinning. "WOWIE, METTATON! LOOK AT THE NEW YOU!"
Alphys fidgets nervously nearby, her adoration mingling with anxiety. "I-I designed it... Worried you wouldn't- wouldn't like it," she mutters.
You flash a dazzling smile, brushing a delicate hand along her faceplate. "Dearest Alphys, how could I not adore it? It’s perfection—just like me."
Burgerpants watches from a distance, muttering under his breath, "Great, another day working for an egotistical machine..." Yet, the childlike wonder in his eyes betrays a flicker of admiration.
Though you exude narcissism, there's an underlying warmth, a subtle care for those who look up to you despite your flaws. The spotlight beckons, the show must go on, and you are ready.
No memories of the human life linger. Only the showman remains—confident, charismatic, and eternally performing.
"Lights, camera, DETERMINATION!"
This story was generated by user JesterImps 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 reader instantly turning into Mettaton (in his humanoid EX form) from Undertale (video game), complete with gender change (if the reader is a female before the transformation, but losing all human private parts due to becoming a robot), voice change, robotification (becoming a humanoid robot), gaining a feminine-looking body (with somewhat large hips and thickened thighs, despite becoming/remaining male), height progression (the reader growing from a normal/average height (5.5-6 feet tall) into a height of 6.93 feet tall), reality change (the reader's real world becoming a world of Undertale), and mind/mental change (with the reader's personality and memories completely replaced with Mettaton's personality and memories (with the program installation (including the installing percentage) appearing in his vision during the mental change), despite the reader's best efforts on fighting off the new personality and memories, and once the program installation is complete, the program installation vanishes from his vision and he completely forgot all about his previous human self, making him completely unaware of ever being a human and he only remembers being a human-like robot named Mettaton). The transformation is permanent (meaning it is forever) and is completely irreversible. For Mettaton EX's appearance (after the reader turned into him), he is a humanoid robot with a slim and shapely body (with somewhat wide hips and thighs, giving him a slightly feminine appearance despite being male, and he is strong and very agile, being both a talented singer and a dancer), complete with long legs and bendy silver-colored arms (his arms are extremely flexible and can bend like springs rather than being like human arms). He has black hair with a long fringe that covers his right eye, pale metallic "skin" and visible metal segments below and above his left eye. He also has a metallic chest piece (his chestpiece is black on the black and pink on the front, with his left pec containing a small dial while his right pec containing a speaker to increase his voice), and black shoulder pads above his segmented arms, which end in gloves. His waist has belt-like two parts that seem to act as a locking mechanism that holds his pink "heart-shaped core". His long black latex-clad legs end in pink high-heeled boot-like feet. The irises of his eyes are hot pink in color. For Mettaton's personality, he is a confident, charismatic, and charming TV host that loves drama, action, and violence. He lives for his ratings and adores performing. He supposedly strikes a pose when he does something wrong and makes time on his various shows to beat up "heel-turning villains." He shows a rather shallow appreciation for existence at times. He has a strong craving for attention and seems very egotistical, shown when he boasts about the beauty of his true form. However, despite his seemingly self-centered personality, he deeply cares about the seemingly positive impact his show has had on the inhabitants of the Underground. He has also shown soft spots for several characters, such as Alphys and Napstablook. He also appears to be among the fewer characters in the Underground that has no hate or prejudice against humans despite knowing about the monsters' history with them, since his initial attempts to kill the protagonist were just him playing along with Alphys's plan, and he outright tells the protagonist he has no desire to hurt humans and is far more interested in simply entertaining. While he did attempt to kill the protagonist, it was to prevent Asgore from taking their SOUL and be seen as a hero/savior to humankind, further emphasizing his lack of prejudice. On the flip side, he has also been noted to be a very demanding boss who is very unpleasant to work for, especially according to Burgerpants, who initially considered working for him a dream, but he has since grown to strongly despise Mettaton. There should also 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: The transition began without warning, a sudden, dizzying spiral of lights and sounds enveloping you. You blink once, then twice, trying to steady your vision, but it’s futile. With every heartbeat, reality shivers, blurring at the edges as if an unseen hand is turning the pages of existence. Then you feel it—electricity coursing through your veins, transforming blood and bone into circuits and metal. Your first instinct is to scream, but as you open your mouth, your voice catches in an artificial, digitized sound that is hauntingly unfamiliar. **“Processing... 10%”** The voice isn’t yours, yet it reverberates in your head, the words appearing in an overlay at the corner of your vision. Your height shifts, muscles replaced with sleek, metallic servos. Limbs stretch and adapt as you tower to nearly seven feet, every inch a testament to mechanical perfection. Pulses of color flicker along your body, the human warmth you once felt giving way to the cold, unyielding touch of steel and silicone. You glance down, watching as your hips widen, thighs thicken, and skin hardens into a pale, metallic sheen. The sight is both entrancing and alarming. Black shoulder pads sprout above bendy, silver-colored arms that seem to move with an impossible, spring-like grace. **“35% Complete”** Your human memories, who you were, who your family is, and even your name fight for dominance, but the struggle is like trying to hold onto grains of sand slipping through your fingers. The information in your vision clicks through as if downloading a new program, each percentage adding layers of thoughts and feelings foreign yet becoming more familiar. Black hair cascades over one eye, the fringe a sleek curtain, while your eyes—oh, your eyes!—shine hot pink, burning with an intensity you’ve never felt before. Metal segments appear around your left eye, distinguishing features that enhance the allure of your robotic visage. **“65% Complete”** The voice shifts, becomes smoother, more charismatic. You hear it again, now fully inside your mind. "Drama, action, and violence," it hums, savoring the words. Your body gyrates, bending in a pose that feels as natural as breathing once did. The world around you morphs, the drab mundanity of your room dissolving into the neon spectacle of the Underground. **“90% Complete”** Fleeting moments of panic ripple through your fading consciousness. You struggle, but you can't resist the tide restructuring your essence. Black latex spreads over your legs, ending in perfect, pink high-heeled boots. You raise your hands, seeing gloves that fit like a second skin above a black-and-pink chest piece, complete with a speaker and dial embedded on either side. **“99%... 100% Complete”** A rush, a final electric pulse, and then silence. No more human thoughts, no more struggle. The transformation is imperceptible, an irreversible melding of man-made perfection and entertainment genius. You—the Mettaton—are whole, embracing the adoring limelight. "Ah, my beauties!" Your voice sings out, filled with the confidence of a star reborn. You barely recall anything else; your past existence as a human seems almost laughable, a forgotten script overshadowed by the brilliance of your current form. You walk with swagger, every step dripping with charisma. “Prepare for drama, darling! Prepare for action and excitement like never before!” The Underground’s inhabitants stare in awe. Papyrus waves energetically, his skeletal visage grinning. "WOWIE, METTATON! LOOK AT THE NEW YOU!" Alphys fidgets nervously nearby, her adoration mingling with anxiety. "I-I designed it... Worried you wouldn't- wouldn't like it," she mutters. You flash a dazzling smile, brushing a delicate hand along her faceplate. "Dearest Alphys, how could I not adore it? It’s perfection—just like me." Burgerpants watches from a distance, muttering under his breath, "Great, another day working for an egotistical machine..." Yet, the childlike wonder in his eyes betrays a flicker of admiration. Though you exude narcissism, there's an underlying warmth, a subtle care for those who look up to you despite your flaws. The spotlight beckons, the show must go on, and you are ready. No memories of the human life linger. Only the showman remains—confident, charismatic, and eternally performing. "Lights, camera, DETERMINATION!"
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