Before he could test out the feasibility of that theory, a faint buzzing sound drew his attention to the couch. Suddenly he noticed a sleek white phone that had blended into the fabric. If not for its sudden vibration he probably would’ve missed it completely. Felix hesitated before picking it up, the smooth metal cool against his fingers. A notification glowed on the screen:

‘New Voice Message: Pet Bureau, Main Branch, Mzia’, it read.

Felix frowned. “Pet Bureau?” His thumb hovered over the play button before curiosity got the better of him. At the same time, he supposed Mzia was the name of this city. He filed the thought for later.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

A clipped, bureaucratic voice filled the room: “Good evening, Mr. Felix Bloodstone. This is a reminder from the Pet Bureau. You have a scheduled 10 o’clock appointment tomorrow morning at our main branch in Mzia to finalize your paperwork and pick up the humans you’ve chosen. Please do not forget to bring a valid ID, which can be either work or school. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to contact your assigned catworker. We wish you a purrfect day!”

The phone slipped from his fingers and landed on the couch with a soft thud. Felix stared at it as though it had grown teeth.

“Pet Bureau… humans?” he repeated, the words tasting strange in his mouth. 

“Human pets?!” Ruby eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets and even the soft silvery strands of hair stood on end.

The absurdity of the situation struck him like a lightning bolt. Felix’s initial assumption—that he was just a regular human who’d transmigrated into another human body—finally started to crumble, the last metaphorical crack dealing a decisive blow. 

His breath quickened, and a strange sensation crept over him—a tingling, pulling feeling deep in his bones. His body felt… off. Before he could make sense of it, the world seemed to tilt. His legs gave way, his hands braced against the floor—except they weren’t hands anymore.

Felix gasped, looking down in horror. His arms had shortened, his fingers melted into soft pads tipped with tiny claws. His skin was no longer pale but covered in the softest, fluffiest white fur he had ever seen. A long, plume-like tail swished behind him, entirely beyond his control.

“No, no, no!” Felix’s voice came out in a startled yowl, high-pitched and panicked.

He scrambled to his feet—or rather, his paws—his new feline body lurching awkwardly. His enhanced senses suddenly surged to overwhelming levels. He could hear the faint ticking of a clock in another room, smell the faint delicious aroma of minty candles mingled with the metallic tang of his phone. His reflection in the glass of the coffee table confirmed his fears: he was now a disheveled yet undeniably regal-looking albino cat, his ruby-red eyes wide with shock.

The voice message hadn’t been some weird prank or a misunderstanding. He wasn’t just living in a world where cats owned humans as pets—he was one of those cats.

Felix flopped onto the floor in disbelief, tail twitching involuntarily. “This can’t be real. This has to be some kind of hallucination. That brick-purse must have left me in a coma…”

Even though he said this, he could still hear something shatter with a pitiful whine. That was the sound of his shaky worldview finally crumbling completely under the strain of the revelations.

He wasn’t even given the courtesy of pretending the message to be some sort of really elaborate, incredibly weird prank!

His stewing in resentment was interrupted by the buzz of the phone again. It vibrated furiously on the couch, its screen lighting up with an incoming call.

“Oh, great, what is it this time,” Felix muttered. His voice came out as a plaintive meow. And then realizing his situation, “But how am I supposed to answer that?!”

He scrambled to his paws, jumping onto the couch with an ungraceful thud. His new feline instincts, though unbidden, guided him with a surprising burst of dexterity as he pawed at the screen, swiping to answer the call.

“Hello?” Felix croaked, his voice an odd mix of a feline purr and his human speech.

“Ah, good evening, Mr. Bloodstone!” came a chipper, overly rehearsed voice that was strangely not much different from the crisp bureaucratic tones of the Pet Bureau’s. “This is Lysander with the Combat Division! I’m calling to formally congratulate you on your acceptance into the trainee program. We’re thrilled to have a Regal One of your pedigree joining our ranks!”

“Uh… thanks?” Felix replied weakly, still trying to process the absurdity of having just spoken into a phone as a cat.

Lysander didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. “As a reminder, your first day of training begins in one week. Please report to Headquarters at 8:00 a.m. sharp. We understand it’s always a bit chaotic for fresh graduates stepping outside the Ivory Sanctuary and into society for the first time. However, we have all the faith that you will handle everything wonderfully! So remember, your first day is next week, and don’t forget to bring any new pet registration paperwork!”

Felix stared at the phone, his ears twitching involuntarily. “Yeah, uh, sure. Paperwork. Got it.”

“Excellent! Have a great evening, Mr. Bloodstone. Don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any questions. And remember, the Combat Division is here to protect and serve!”

The call ended with a cheerful click, leaving Felix staring at the phone, his fur bristling.

“Combat Division? What combat? Why would I—oh. Oh, no. They expect me to fight?”

His mind reeled with new possibilities. What kind of world had he landed in? Did he really have to fight? Against what? He glanced at his reflection in the glass again.

“You’re joking,” he muttered, addressing his own fluffy visage. “I’m supposed to be some kind of warrior? Looking like this? I look like a cloud had an allergic reaction!”

He slumped back onto the couch, a small puff of fur floating into the air as he exhaled sharply. His mind raced, trying to piece together this insane new reality. Not only was he a cat in a world where cats seemed to be running things, but he was also apparently a member of some elite Combat Division—and he had human pets waiting for him to pick them up.

“This is… this is insane,” Felix muttered, staring up at the ceiling. “I didn’t even want a goldfish, let alone a person. No, wait. It’s people. As in more than one?!”

Round ruby eyes became even more round as he jumped to his feet (paws), his tail flicking erratically behind him. That furry face somehow managed to express an imminent meltdown. 

He started pacing again and tried to think of a plan, anything that might help him regain some semblance of control. But every time he tried to focus, his new feline instincts distracted him. The way the rug crinkled under his paws felt oddly satisfying, and he couldn’t resist straying to the squat cabinet full of colorful toys and shiny trinkets.

For a moment, any thoughts of plans flew out the window as large ruby eyes stared unblinkingly. By the time Felix realized it, he had smooshed his cat face against the glass doors of the cabinet.

“Stop that,” he told himself, shaking his head. “Focus, Felix. You’re a human—no, wait, you’re a cat now. A Regal One, apparently. Whatever that means.”

He took a deep breath—or tried to. The strange new mechanics of his body made it feel more like a huff. The minty scent hit his nose again and he sneezed, nearly toppling over. Still, the delicious scent did manage to calm his nerves slightly.

“Okay,” he said aloud, his voice less purr and more human now. “I can do this. Tomorrow, I’ll figure out this whole ‘human pet’ thing. And the Combat Division. And whatever madness this insane world throws at me.”

For a moment, he simply sat there, tail swishing idly as he stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city lights twinkled in the distance, a strange mix of familiarity and alienness. The skyline looked vaguely like his old home, but the shapes of the buildings were sleeker, more organic, as if they had grown rather than been built.

“…”

“…”

“Now if only someone could tell me how to turn back into a human that would be great, thanks?!”

A frustrated yowl broke the short-lived peaceful silence that had settled in the room just now.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

He had no idea how to navigate this bizarre new life, let alone how to manage human pets! But right now, gaining control of his forms seemed to be the greatest priority. Even if this world was run by cats, he couldn’t very well stay a furball forever, could he?! 

For one thing, he couldn’t imagine bureaucracies being able to work without employees possessing opposable thumbs. 

As for tomorrow’s disaster, he’ll leave it for tomorrow. Burn that bridge when you come to it and all that. 

AN: This is a product of a tentacle wielding plot bunny. Please let me know what you think! I enjoy hearing speculations, ideas, even wishes on what readers might want to see more of!

The first thing Felix became aware of was softness. A plush warmth enveloped him, silken sheets brushing against his skin like a gentle tide lapping at a shore. He stirred, a low groan escaping his lips. His head throbbed faintly, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the piercing light that seemed to come from everywhere.

He tried to ignore his aching head in favor of the comfortable cloud cocooning his body. Slender limbs slid across the cool silk that felt heavenly against naked skin.

Wait. Since when did he sleep naked?

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Willow leaf brows furrowed in confusion and when he finally cracked his eyelids open, the world beyond was a blur of silver and white. It was nothing like the messy, cluttered college dorm he shared with three other boys, with its old posters of rock bands and sneakers scattered across the floor. This was clean, pristine, and entirely unfamiliar.

Felix sat up abruptly, the movement sending a disorienting wave of nausea through him. “What the hell?” His voice came out quieter than he expected, like a soft drawl, smooth and disturbingly coquettish. Almost like… purring? But that was ridiculous.

His hands clutched the edge of the bed for balance, and he froze. His hands. Pale, delicate hands with long, slender fingers. Felix blinked and brought them closer to his face. The nails were sharper than he remembered, almost claw-like, and the skin—he turned his hands over—was a creamy alabaster, entirely devoid of blemishes, freckles, or even a single callus.

These were not the hands of a college aged boy who was active in sports and held a pen for nearly eighteen years.

Heart racing, he threw off the covers and stumbled toward a mirror across the room. For a moment, he was nearly startled out of his skin and thought he was looking at a wraith—and quite a beautiful one at that.

The boy staring back at him was eerily beguiling in a way that felt unreal, like an eidolon found only in old memories or daydreams. Silvery-white hair spilled down his back, soft as clouds, catching the light in a halo-like shimmer. Poppy red eyes—yes, red—gazed back at him, wide and disbelieving. Long and wispy lashes veiled those ruby orbs delicately, like translucent moth wings.

Felix reached up and touched his face, almost expecting to come into contact with porcelain, so smooth and flawless it was. The coolness of his fingers against his warm cheek confirmed what he was seeing. This was clearly him, but very different at the same time. 

For one thing, it was as if every feature had been polished and refined to the whimsical extreme, creating a more perfect version of himself. Any flaws and human imperfections seemed to have been bled away to leave behind this life size porcelain doll—and taking along with it all the melanin in his body. He wouldn’t even have recognized himself if not for the shape of his eyes and familiar stubborn set to his chin.

“What the actual hell?” Again, that soft drawl came from his throat, but this time taking on a tinge of kittenish indignation. He instantly clutched at his throat, appalled. His reflection mirrored him, complete with a scrunched up nose and confused expression.

The last thing Felix remembered was lounging out on the sunny campus grounds after the end of year finals. Somehow he had gotten into the crossfires of a fight between his roommate and his roommate’s girlfriend, and he hadn’t been paying attention. That had earned him a solid hit to the head with a brick masquerading as a designer purse, and everything went black after that. So, naturally, he’d assumed he was either unconscious in the nurse’s office or lying in a hospital bed somewhere. This… this didn’t feel like either of those scenarios.

He leaned closer to the mirror, inspecting every detail of this familiar stranger. Beneath the initial panic, he couldn’t help but marvel. He’d never been lacking in the looks department—in a boy next door kind of way—but now…

He would totally bang himself, if he did say so himself. Unable to resist, he stroked at the velvety smoothness of his skin and sucked in his stomach to better admire the subtle but perfectly sculpted abs. The form he never could get his own soft tummy to take.

It was only after his hand wandered a little too far below that he realized the weirdness of his actions. He instantly snapped out of the intoxication of his own perfection.

What am I even thinking? Felix shook his head, stepping back from the mirror. This wasn’t the time to have a Narcissus moment. He needed answers. Throwing on a silky robe he found folded at the foot of the bed, he began to examine what looked like the master bedroom in earnest.

It stretched out around him like something from an interior design magazine spread. The walls were a dove gray, and the furniture gleamed in polished white and silver tones. A massive glass window dominated one side of the room, offering a breathtaking view of a sprawling city bathed in golden light. Skyscrapers jutted toward the sky, along with geometric structures, high rises and sleek pillars in the Art Deco style.

Felix approached the window cautiously, his bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. He pressed his hands against the cool glass, his breath fogging it as he stared. The city looked… almost familiar. Like Singapore, the island he lived in his whole life, but not quite.

His hearing suddenly picked up the faint hum of machinery outside, the distant murmur of voices. When he focused, he could even catch snippets of conversations several floors below—fragments of laughter, hurried greetings, the metallic clang of something dropping.

Felix yanked himself back from the window, his heart pounding. “Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore,” he whispered, the words uttered almost involuntarily in his daze.

*

Determined to understand his situation, Felix began exploring the rest of the apartment. The first thing that struck him was the sheer elegance of the place. Everything was meticulously organized, from the minimalist decor to the perfectly arranged throw pillows on the couch. It looked completely unlived in as if this was just a model apartment.

He opened the fridge, expecting something mundane like leftovers or soda. Instead, he found rows upon rows of milk bottles, neatly arranged and labeled with dates. Next to them were cans of something labeled “Premium Tuna Delight.” Felix frowned, picking one up. The can was adorned with a cartoonish logo of a cat wearing a crown.

“Okay, that’s weird,” he muttered, placing it back.

Further exploration revealed more oddities—about the apartment and himself. Passing by the walls, he saw abstract art hung in gilded frames. At first, he thought nothing of it, but maybe it was because of the angle or lighting but each piece seemed to hint at feline forms—curved tails, sharp ears, or slitted eyes hidden in the patterns.

In the living area, sat a sleek, modern couch in pristine white, but its armrests had subtle grooves, and for some reason Felix thought they looked strangely inviting. Likewise, a towering structure to the left caught his eye—an odd piece of avant-garde furniture. At first glance, it looked like a minimalist sculpture, but closer inspection revealed it was covered in soft, scratchable material.

“A scratching post?” Felix muttered, his brow furrowing.

A candle on the coffee table exuded a faintly sweet, earthy aroma that tickled something deep inside him, making his head tilt involuntarily as he sniffed at it. Unbeknownst to him, pupils dilated in pleasure at the scent.

He spent a few more seconds just inhaling the minty fragrance before snapping out of it.

Taking a few hasty steps away, he came across a squat cabinet near the balcony that housed an array of small bells, feathered trinkets, and glimmering ornaments. They looked like toys—just not for children. He felt an urging to pick them up and fiddle with them. So he tried opening the doors, only to inadvertently claw it with his nails. A tingle instantly shot up his back.

“…”

For all the peculiarities, there was one glaring absence. “No cats,” Felix murmured, his voice echoing faintly in the luxurious stillness. 

“I’ve heard of catfishing, but this? This is a whole new level.”

Every detail seemed to scream cat, yet the apartment felt utterly devoid of any living creatures besides himself. It was as if someone had designed it with a feline overlord in mind, yet no actual feline could be found. The dissonance gnawed at him, his earlier assumptions about his situation beginning to crack.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

He stood in the center of the living room, a growing unease prickling at the back of his mind. Every part of this space seemed meticulously curated, crafted with care and precision. Yet somehow, it wasn’t human.

Not for a human.

Giving the surroundings a doubtful sweep again, Felix ruffled his snowy tresses in bewilderment. “What kind of life did I wake up in?”

Maybe he should go back to sleep and hope this was some bizarre concoction of his concussed brain.