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Day 1: Volcarona

Jolyne smiled as she brushed a pile of sand away from a stone box, a quick strike with a chisel shattering the ancient lock. Her team had traveled out to explore the ancient desert ruins of Unova, although she was alone in the temple that night, her selfish desire for riches greater than her interest in studying the past.

She coughed despite her mask, heavy clothes only mostly protecting her from the sand, although they were sufficient to help her with the extreme heat and chills of the arid lands. Gloved hands eagerly pulled open the box, taking out a gemstone, red and orange, carved into a stylized sun with six curved points representing its light. Seeing it was attached to a shining, pale chain, she quickly slid it over her neck, only to feel a sudden warmth in her body as a presence intruded upon her mind.

"So, you intend to steal from me?" it asked, an unfamiliar voice clamoring in her mind. "I was content with your party when they were merely seeking knowledge, but I will not tolerate this!"

Before Jolyne could even attempt to apologize, a sudden pain rushed through her back. She could feel a burning in her body, although it was oddly comforting despite the circumstances; a tearing sound hailed the growth of new wings, ripping apart her shirt, only for her clothes to repair themselves in mere moments to fit.

Chitinous claws tore through her gloves, and she could only watch as more of her skin became an exoskeleton, unnerved by the strange sensations of her skeleton effectively inverting itself. Twisting, she tried to get a look at her new wings, small powder floating off them as she recognized the six orange limbs, matching both the gem and a Pokémon that she'd studied before the trip: Volcarona.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked the disembodied spirit, only to be met with a soft, sad chuckle. Her hair was turning a stark white, soft fuzz coating her body and parts of her arms and legs, itching while it grew out; her clothes continued to shift around her, keeping their modern style but allowing more room to fit her new body, growing more revealing as she began to produce her own flame.

"Well, it's been so long... I feel I could use a representative on Earth, and hopefully I can punish a thief, too." the voice explained. "I cannot change your mind, only read pieces, so I cannot actually force you to serve me, but, well, I can help you undo the curse if you so choose~"

Jolyne simply grimaced, her lips morphing into a small, beaklike structure. Her nose faded away, antennae forming from her human ears to replace them. As she blinked her eyes, they turned a solid, vibrant blue, splitting into a multitude of compound eyes, her mind struggling to catch up for several minutes. By the time she could sense the world clearly again, she noted her now-bare feet were simplified nubs, and could feel a pressure in her hips.

Another loud ripping noise sounded out in the dead of night, a thick abdomen sprouting from her body. She wiggled it a little experimentally, pale blue edges surrounding more black in the center. Her pants were morphed to have a new clasp, matching the giant hole her shirt had to expose her wings, the changes completed.

A piece of the wall shimmered, a reflective surface forming to allow Jolyne to take in her new body. Now that the pain was gone, and she felt her internal flames, she felt oddly good, her new form surprising her with how right it felt to have. Although, as she pondered her new form and the magic pendant, she was left uncertain whether to serve this ancient sun spirit, or whether she even wanted to get her old, human body back at all...

Day 2: Koraidon

Milton sighed as he pulled his bike up to the bar, several others already lined up on the lot. The joint was friendly with his self-proclaimed gang, although the worst they actually did was disregard their own safety gear; they simply liked the feel of motorcycles and the idea of roaming freely, even if most of them had stable homes in the next town over.

He liked the guys (and gals) of his gang, but being stuck with a shoddy, slower bike didn't help him much; folk liked him, but always being late unless he happened to already be at the meetup spots made it hard to properly socialize in person. Adjusting his jacket, wing motifs an irony with his ride, he prepared to head inside before his attention was drawn away to a feather floating from the sky.

He caught the large, shed feather in a hand, the sight mesmerizing to him. Massive, with the base going from blue to a pink middle and white body in abrupt jumps. He didn't recognize where it was from, but as he looked it over, it started to shudder in his hand, before suddenly disintegrating in his grip.

As he looked at his now-empty hands in shock, he was surprised to see them beginning to change, bright red scales sprouting from his human skin, nails sharpening into vicious claws. Black pads formed on his palms and fingers, webbing connecting his middle digits while his hands began to grow.

He watched in surprise, looking around; there wasn't anyone else outside with him, but he couldn't tell if anyone was watching him from inside the bar. Feeling an odd sensation throughout his entire body, a steady growth of muscle, he realized he was in danger of an embarrassing wardrobe failure, pulling himself into the nearest dark alley for some privacy.

His shirt was straining, body bulking up with new muscle. Hastily, Milton managed to pull his shoes and socks off before they could suffer any worse than light stretching, small toes vanishing as his feet became massive stompers, huge toes splayed out by default, central pair once more connected with pale webbing. He flexed his changing limbs experimentally, feeling the power slowly growing in them.

A loud ripping noise alerted him to how the odd sensation in his spine was actually the growth of a new tail, long black segments coating the base before transitioning to familiar reds and whites. Joining it was a frill of more feathers like the one that had kicked off his change, and as it grew he felt an odd swelling of pride in his chest.

Of course, as his undershirt began to strain around the front, he soon realized the swelling was also literal; easing the process by simply pulling his shirt apart with his new claws, he watched curiously as a massive throatsack grew, his body and neck themselves swelling up a little to make room for the massive, wheellike growth.

He closed his eyes for a moment, his head adjusting itself too disorienting for him to properly handle; his nose and ears shrank away, mouth pushing itself into a rounded snout. When he opened his new yellow eyes, he reached to up explore his face, before turning to a leftover pane of glass to admire how his hair was twisting itself up into a massive crest of feathers. A pair of blue growths tore through the shoulders of his leather jacket to complete his changes, and he felt the name of his new species drift into his mind: Koraidon, a powerful and fast beast from prehistory.

He gave himself a sly smile as he stepped back out from the alleyway, eager to see just how his gang would enjoy his new form, especially since now he'd be the first to arrive wherever he pleased.

Day 3: Rotom

Elaine double-checked that the camera was disabled before dashing through the hall, leaving a handcuffed guard in her wake as she explored the corporate labs. An independent contractor, the young woman had been hired by someone to investigate the strange biotech lab, sponsored by what was otherwise an energy and electronics company. She and many others had been confused by the strange move, and although she kept her clients anonymous for their mutual safety she knew whoever hired her thought similarly.

She slipped into a lab room, taking in the various machines set up, most obviously a giant chamber designed to fit a human being on the far wall. Focusing on the computer, she slipped a remote drive into one, letting her malware spread into the network while she dug around for loose notes. She smiled as she found a set of full documentation on the project, carelessly left in a cabinet, and swiped both it and her card before she heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

She swore under her breath, knowing that even with an improvised disguise of a stolen labcoat and forged ID, she'd be immediately caught out. With nowhere better to hide, she quickly unlatched the door to the central pod, hiding herself inside and sitting quietly.

She heard the sound of talking, guards looking around the room for her. She did her best to avoid notice, but then she heard the sound of the clasps sealing the chamber shut, and realized that she'd been caught. But rather than simply arrest her, or even beat her up, an electrical hum began to resonate through the room, several panels glowing as she was turned into the newest test subject for the chamber.

Tossing stealth aside, she stood up in an attempt to force the door open, only to simply hurt her shoulder. A sliding panel pulled open on the door, revealing the face of one of the scientists on staff. He simply smiled as he looked at the angry face of Elaine, before closing the panel once more. Seconds after, the room began to glow, and Elaine screamed in agony.

Her body felt like it was being pulled apart, every individual atom ripping and gluing back together. She felt as though her clothes, the documents, everything on her person was part of her, and that her own flesh and blood wasn't. Finally, after several long moments, she was gone, the chamber empty as the guards pulled the door open.

With their problem dealt with, they soon left the chamber, only a token staffer left to watch outside the room in case she had any partners. However, throughout the air, Elaine still felt herself. She still existed, running through the machine, flying in the connections between it, the computers, and the greater network. She'd survived, but as a literal ghost in the machine, her body slain but her mind managing to persist in spite of that.

For the moment, her job of surveillance was an afterthought; she wanted revenge against the guards and doctors who'd left her to die when they could simply arrest her, and as she scanned the network, she began to find evidence of other crimes and wrongdoings from the company, securing the thought in her mind she'd need to sabotage them. As she pondered a way to do so, mulling over her comic-book like story, she recalled a character who was in a similar position to her own, Doctor Manhattan, torn asunder in a nuclear test, but able to reconstitute a physical body to interact with mortals as one of his many powers. She doubted she had his godlike power, but the exciting thought of using her killers methods against them made her try.

Her nerdy interests continued to guide her as she visualized a form to adopt; slowly silently, an orange core began to form, slowly gaining a humanlike shape, hips, shoulders and head all clearly defined, a little point on the top. From there, she gave it an energized, blue coating; it surrounded her new body, a small tail of pure plasma forming.

Not content with just this, she did her best to wrangle her new energy into a set of humanoid limbs; they took a few minutes to properly form, and even under her control bent and twitched in unnatural ways, electricity contained in her ghostly form but still bending around as normal. Setting her new feet onto the floor, she opened her eyes, deep blue surrounded by two segments of white, looking at herself in the reflection of a powered down monitor. She smirked as she adjusted a part of herself into a small ponytail, one final vestige of her human form.

She wasn't quite the spitting image of a Rotom, but this new form was close enough to recognize. As she approached the door, she paused, seeing the nervous, probably inexperienced guard. She may have wanted revenge, but she knew that even with all knowing employees here being complicit, not all of them would be bad individually, wondering how to get rid of him without hurting him too much before settling on an idea.

The guard had no idea what was coming when he heard the sound of a screen breaking, rushing inside to find a monitor lying on the ground with nobody else in sight. Approaching it, worried his boss would blame him, he was suddenly met with a screaming, glowing face flying out from the remnants, not even attempting to fire upon Elaine as he fled in terror. The jumpscare may have been cheap, but to the new ghost, it was fun, and it meant he'd be out of her plasma for now. She giggled at her first fright, eager to start refining her technique as she made her way through the halls, ready to torment the executives like a festive spirit.

Day 4: Zoroark

Tadashi stepped off the bus by the city limits with a smile, thanking the driver as he made his way to the sidewalk. After a long day of work, he was always happy to shed his uniform and relax at home, and today was no different as he walked past the apartments and houses that bordered the forest.

Rather than turn to enter any of them, he made sure no one could see him, before heading off the path into the forests, the trees familiar to him as he stepped over the rocks and roots on the ground. It was a path he was used to traveling, and as he arrived in a particularly dense ticket, he smiled, setting his bag down on a rock and concentrating.

Slowly, carefully, he began to shift. Fingers morphed into claws, a vicious crimson overtaking them; his hair turned from black back to its natural red, spilling out over his back as a small bead held the end together. His human work clothes began to break apart, a small light coming from the tears as he shed his disguise.

Black fur pushed through his skin, a strange yet welcome sensation that he never grew tired of, especially not the thicker and darker coating on his upper chest. He stomped a paw on the ground as his legs reasserted their digitigrade stance, thighs growing larger while his waist grew narrower.

Completing his change, his human face gave way to its true, vulpine form, ears growing pointed and swiveling around openly, mouth and nose turning into a pointed, wedge-shaped muzzle. He opened his eyes, a bright cyan contrasting his black and red fur, and looked to the sky. It was fun, living among the humans, but this Zoroark was always happy to return to his roots. Smelling the air, he caught the scent of one of his friends, and turned to pay them a visit.

Day 5: Heat Rotom

Barry pulled their bread from their oven, looking over it with a frown. While an accomplished chef and baker, they were currently having issues with their oven; neither they nor their coworkers could make it output the right amount of heat recently, and their latest attempt had resulted in underbaked dough. In theory they could simply fix it, but the time and money it would cost to replace it would be a problem without a replacement, and of course they had none.

They sighed, tossing the failed dough aside, before heading outside behind the store. They didn't like this, but didn't think they had much other choice; either they'd be forced to shut down and risk running out of money, take on a loan and risk not paying it off, or... They opened a case, looking inside to confirm their plan, before pulling out a small bottle of orange and red liquid.

They thought back to when they had bought this odd potion, the seller the sort of person to keep skulls around for decoration. They were told it would help them with their foes regarding the bakery, but with a cost that the seller refused to elaborate on. Remembering the weird person's words, they quickly drank the liquid, the foul taste soon washed away by the taste of alcohol as they wondered whether drinking an unlabelled potion from someone who looked like a corpse was a good idea.

They sighed, unimpressed by the lack of any immediate reaction. Stepping back into the kitchen, they watched the one other chef leave, his own shift now ending. Closing time on another day, closing time on their hopes for the immediate future. Resting a hand on the front of their defective main oven, they wondered just what options were left.

And then they felt what felt like a full body shock, yet somehow without the pain.

Their whole body was pulsing with energy, a sizzling audible in their head as they found themselves unable to pull away from the machine. Turning to see, they watched their skin start to glow, a bright red overtaking it as it sank into the machine; the red was already spreading rapidly up their arm, pulling more of them into the oven. They tried to pull back, but in bracing their other hand against the cool metal found themselves pulled in further; realizing what was happening, they decided to try another approach, pushing more of their body against the door, allowing themselves to be absorbed by the machine.

It was strange, their legs dissipating, not even being absorbed as they found themselves deprived of their physical body. They weren't dead, they didn't think, but they were incorporeal now; body broken apart into a ghostly essence, pulled into the oven as a new host. Slowly, they began to feel the metal of the oven as if it was their own body; the hard edges, slowly rounding; the polished surface, turning from utilitarian silver to stylish orange. Their vision blinked out for a moment, only to come back as the dials reformed into a new face, a perpetual readout of their temperature; arms and legs formed from leftover energy, small nubs in the metal serving as exist points while their new limbs grew in. Soon, their old clothes lay discarded on the floor, as Barry stood up to explore their new body.

They were a lot fatter than before, they noticed; the oven had shrunk when they possessed and merged with it, but it still was large enough to use. Their hands formed natural mittens, while their feet were mere points, a red glow that left sparks on the tile with every step. They paused to try and focus on their new, electronic components, feeling themselves heat up, pausing at exactly the temperature they wanted. They realized that, in a roundabout way, that weird concoction they drank had indeed offered a solution to their problem, despite all odds against it, as they were now the new replacement oven their business needed.