Getting Warhammered [WH 40k Fanfic]

7 – Mirror



7 – Mirror

I sighed in satisfaction as I finally managed to put on the clothes I'd found. No more fur for me.
I was close to the top of this tower now, with one or two more floors to go at most and the interior has gotten rather luxurious up here compared to the lower levels.
 
A hundred floors down even windows started to become a thing as did laminated floors and furniture. Organic sunlight streamed into the room I was in and I turned to examine myself in a vanity mirror standing nearby.
 
The clothes fit me well, though they would be a bit out there back home. A leathery body glove going from my ankles up to the base of my neck was the most prominent, thankfully I found some fitting underwear to put on under it.
 
Not that I felt like it would chafe my skin, it only looked leathery but was elastic and breathy as if I was wearing yoga pants and a shirt.
 
Above it, I wore a tactical belt I found on a lower level and a long red coat that went well with the black body glove under it. I could have worn normal pants and shirts, I've found a bunch of those too but looking into the mirror I knew I made the right decision.
 
I was pretty back on earth, as a human if I say so myself. I went to the gym so I was fit, if a bit lanky and lacking in some key areas but I always told myself that my cute face made up for it.
 
Maybe my narcissism wasn't that much of a new thing. I could see the traces of my old face staring back at me with those forest green eyes my granny so praised framed by my bleached white hair.
 
My once cute face could only be called beautiful now, angular chin, high cheekbones, a small nose and a small mouth with pouty lips. It was a work of art that I spent an embarrassing amount of time on but now I could pat myself on the back for a job well done.

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It was like doing makeup just a bit deeper. Which girl wouldn't change a few things about herself if they got the chance? Well, I did just get it so bite me.
 
My body wasn't left behind and my choice of clothing made that clear. My lanky frame was nowhere to be found and now the girl in the mirror had the body of an amazonian goddess.
 
I smirked and blushed promptly after my mirror image replicated it, and I could already tell I would get addicted to this. My body was like clay to me now, free to shape and form however I liked it like a sculpture. I could make it gorgeous like I just did but this was hardly the limit. If I wanted I could be a bodybuilder in the next moment, or an aged gentleman or even something so far from a human that anyone that saw me would die from a heart attack.
 
I wasn't averse to the idea of taking on an alien form if need be but the dissonance that I suspected came from my human soul made more than a temporary change impossible.
 
I don't know when I'd get used to it or if that was even possible. Souls are supposed to be immutable stuff I think?
 
With a last glance at the mirror, I left the suite with a satisfied grin. The rest of my collected stuff hung over my shoulder in a sack with the satchels and slots in my tactical belt also putting weight on my hips from their contents.
 
I found a bunch of discarded stuff most of which I had no idea what it was for. Electrical gadgets, tablet-looking thingies and a load of technical tools.
 
While most of the levels resembled something like a factory from the industrial revolution the last bunch looked much more like modern offices and living quarters. I dare say the last room I was in even reached the levels of a 4-star hotel.
 
I pocketed anything I thought might be useful for my continued survival and most often than not convenience. Knives, extra clothes and any self-care stuff I found.
 
I even managed to loot a toothbrush and toothpaste not that I needed those anymore but who knew if I would need them.
 
My journey up here from the balcony was annoying and strenuous, whoever built this place didn't bother giving an easy way to travel vertically through the tower.
 
I switched between air vents, stairs and making holes through the ceiling in frustration to make it up here and now only a handful of floors stood between me and my arbitrary goal of reaching the top of this godforsaken skyscraper.
 
I found a staircase leading upwards after only 10 minutes of wandering around the intricately painted hallways. It wasn't even locked behind a door so I didn't have to exercise my well-practiced lock-picking skills.
 
Many doors fell victim to those on the floors below my feet, now sporting broken hinges or broken apart locks. I could play around with opening them with my tendrils but that got old after the fifth closed door and using my newfound strength proved to be a much swifter solution.
 
For once the damned architect decided to be practical and put the staircase leading to the next floor just above the previous one. I still held grievances for the horrendous planning of the lower floors so I'd still rip him a new one if I ever met him but maybe for this, I'd do it gently.
 
They say third time's the charm and it seemed like it was true once again. The third staircase was nowhere to be found and I'd need to search for my way up the next floor again.
 
When I stuck my head out a nearby window I found myself grinning. This was the last floor before the top it seemed.
 
Now I'd just need to do a bit of climbing and I'd have a panoramic view of this beauty of a city.
 

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