"Final Transformation: Embracing the Mii Brawler Within"
2 Points
The controller slips from your grip, falling to the floor with a soft thud that seems to echo louder in your mind than it does in the room around you. You've spent hours in front of the screen, your eyes fixated on the vibrant, chaotic world of Super Smash Bros Ultimate. It’s a game you’ve loved for so long, a way to escape reality and dive into a universe where the impossible is just another challenge to be conquered.
As another victory tune chimes from the TV, a sudden wave of dizziness hits you. You reach to steady yourself, but the room spins and your vision blurs before going black. You don't feel yourself hitting the ground.
When you awaken, the first thing you notice is the cold, hard ground beneath you. It’s different—thicker than the carpet in your living room. As your eyes adjust, you’re no longer surrounded by the familiar clutter of your home but rather a coliseum you’ve seen countless times on screen.
"Welcome, challenger," a voice echoes from within the stadium, but it is soon drowned out by the sounds of the crowd. Not merely spectators, but the fighters you’ve battled with and against a hundred times before. Mario, Pikachu, Samus—everyone's here.
A tingling sensation begins near your core, quickly spreading throughout your body. Your heart races as you struggle to comprehend the reality of the situation. The tingling becomes burning, shifting, molding you. You look down at your hands, and they’re both familiar and alien. Stronger, rougher. A slight tremor overtakes your body as you watch them transform, the fingers shortening and becoming more adept, more trained.
If you’re male, there is a chilling sense of adaptation washing over you. Your muscles firm up, becoming more defined, and your frame slightly shrinks to 5.3 feet. Your outfit morphs, fabric changing into the distinct red-and-black Mii Brawler uniform adorned with padding on the forearms and shins. If you’re female, the transformation takes a more visceral turn. Your chest tingles before compressing painfully until it is flat, curves hardening into angles, and an odd sensation overtakes your lower body as it morphs into a male anatomy.
You try to scream, but your voice has vanished. Instead, a low grunt escapes your throat. It's accompanied by a moment of clarity, a realization of what’s happening. The reflection in the polished ground beneath you is undeniable: the stern face, the black hair, those determined eyes. You have become the Mii Brawler.
You want to panic, to tear off the unfamiliar uniform, but your hands, now calloused and strong, move without your command. Memories flood in—punching bags, training with Mii Swordfighter and Mii Gunner in virtual neverlands of combat. The sensation to fight, to strike, to triumph overshadows your thoughts.
"The name’s Mii Brawler," a voice booms inside your head. It’s not yours, but it should be.
No, you think desperately. That's not right. You were someone else. You try to hold onto the image of yourself, but it's slipping through your fingers like sand in an hourglass. The more you fight it, the deeper the new persona roots.
The crowd of characters cheers, and from their midst, Mii Swordfighter steps forward. They don’t speak, but the unspoken communication is clear: It’s your turn. You hesitate, drawing confused stares. “Come on, we’ve trained for this!” says the words within your mind, urging you forward.
You exhale a deep breath, feeling the last remnants of your old self fade. This isn’t just a transformation—it's an erasure. The final piece clicks into place, and suddenly, the thought occurs to you: you were daydreaming about being human. Absurd! You chuckle internally—or was that a grunt? The memory of a human life seems trivial now, a dream that you’ve woken up from.
You step into the coliseum, taking your place beside your fellow fighters. Mii Swordfighter and Mii Gunner nod in recognition, their expressions speaking volumes. You aren’t a human dragged into a game. You have always been a Mii Brawler, one of the triumvirates of Mii Fighters. This coliseum, this world, it’s your reality. The battles, the thrills, the victories—this is your life.
As the announcer readies the combatants, you feel only anticipation. No more confusion, no fear—just the pure, exhilarating joy of the fight. This is what you were made for.
This story was generated by user WhyMeei 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 a human reader turning into default Mii Brawler in his default outfit from Super Smash Bros Ultimate (the video game), complete with gender change (if the reader is a female, the reader's breasts deflates/compresses into nothingness/nonexistence, her feminine curves disappearing to make her body more masculine, and her female genitals (vagina, ovaries, and uterus) inverts and is then pushed out of her crotch to turn into testicles and a penis; but this is optional and only necessary if the reader is a female, and the gender does not change if the reader is male before the transformation into Mii Brawler), body change (long black hair, a more stern masculine expression, voice change (making the reader (just like other Mii Fighters, Mii Swordfighter (who is male) and Mii Gunner (who is female), who also cannot speak/talk) unable to speak/talk but can still gasp, grunt, groan, growl, shout, yell, and scream, like the other Mii Fighters, and still able to understand words despite not being able to speak words), slight muscle growth, and slight height change to 5.3 feet (160 centimeters) tall), clothes change (the reader's clothes becoming a standard red-and-black-colored Mii Brawler outfit with extra padding on the forearms and shins, and a trademark brown belt with the word "Mii" embedded in the golden buckle), age change, reality change (the reader's real world becoming the world of Super Smash Bros Ultimate), and mind/mental change (with the reader's personality and memories being completely replaced with Mii Brawler's personality and memories, despite his best efforts on fighting the new personality and memories off, making him forget all about his previous self, as well as remembering and realizing that he had always been a Mii Fighter, being one of the Mii Fighters alongside Mii Swordfighter and Mii Gunner (who also don't speak/talk while still can gasp, grunt, groan, growl, shout, yell, and scream, like Mii Brawler, and still able to understand words despite not being able to speak words), and he realized that he was daydreaming about being human the entire time, when he wrongly thought/believe he was a human throughout this time until he now woke up from that daydream, thus he knew that he was never human to begin with, and he knowing that he was and always had been Mii Brawler). 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 controller slips from your grip, falling to the floor with a soft thud that seems to echo louder in your mind than it does in the room around you. You've spent hours in front of the screen, your eyes fixated on the vibrant, chaotic world of Super Smash Bros Ultimate. It’s a game you’ve loved for so long, a way to escape reality and dive into a universe where the impossible is just another challenge to be conquered. As another victory tune chimes from the TV, a sudden wave of dizziness hits you. You reach to steady yourself, but the room spins and your vision blurs before going black. You don't feel yourself hitting the ground. When you awaken, the first thing you notice is the cold, hard ground beneath you. It’s different—thicker than the carpet in your living room. As your eyes adjust, you’re no longer surrounded by the familiar clutter of your home but rather a coliseum you’ve seen countless times on screen. "Welcome, challenger," a voice echoes from within the stadium, but it is soon drowned out by the sounds of the crowd. Not merely spectators, but the fighters you’ve battled with and against a hundred times before. Mario, Pikachu, Samus—everyone's here. A tingling sensation begins near your core, quickly spreading throughout your body. Your heart races as you struggle to comprehend the reality of the situation. The tingling becomes burning, shifting, molding you. You look down at your hands, and they’re both familiar and alien. Stronger, rougher. A slight tremor overtakes your body as you watch them transform, the fingers shortening and becoming more adept, more trained. If you’re male, there is a chilling sense of adaptation washing over you. Your muscles firm up, becoming more defined, and your frame slightly shrinks to 5.3 feet. Your outfit morphs, fabric changing into the distinct red-and-black Mii Brawler uniform adorned with padding on the forearms and shins. If you’re female, the transformation takes a more visceral turn. Your chest tingles before compressing painfully until it is flat, curves hardening into angles, and an odd sensation overtakes your lower body as it morphs into a male anatomy. You try to scream, but your voice has vanished. Instead, a low grunt escapes your throat. It's accompanied by a moment of clarity, a realization of what’s happening. The reflection in the polished ground beneath you is undeniable: the stern face, the black hair, those determined eyes. You have become the Mii Brawler. You want to panic, to tear off the unfamiliar uniform, but your hands, now calloused and strong, move without your command. Memories flood in—punching bags, training with Mii Swordfighter and Mii Gunner in virtual neverlands of combat. The sensation to fight, to strike, to triumph overshadows your thoughts. "The name’s Mii Brawler," a voice booms inside your head. It’s not yours, but it should be. No, you think desperately. That's not right. You were someone else. You try to hold onto the image of yourself, but it's slipping through your fingers like sand in an hourglass. The more you fight it, the deeper the new persona roots. The crowd of characters cheers, and from their midst, Mii Swordfighter steps forward. They don’t speak, but the unspoken communication is clear: It’s your turn. You hesitate, drawing confused stares. “Come on, we’ve trained for this!” says the words within your mind, urging you forward. You exhale a deep breath, feeling the last remnants of your old self fade. This isn’t just a transformation—it's an erasure. The final piece clicks into place, and suddenly, the thought occurs to you: you were daydreaming about being human. Absurd! You chuckle internally—or was that a grunt? The memory of a human life seems trivial now, a dream that you’ve woken up from. You step into the coliseum, taking your place beside your fellow fighters. Mii Swordfighter and Mii Gunner nod in recognition, their expressions speaking volumes. You aren’t a human dragged into a game. You have always been a Mii Brawler, one of the triumvirates of Mii Fighters. This coliseum, this world, it’s your reality. The battles, the thrills, the victories—this is your life. As the announcer readies the combatants, you feel only anticipation. No more confusion, no fear—just the pure, exhilarating joy of the fight. This is what you were made for.
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