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"Transformation of Charlie & Alastor: Dream of Red, Morning of Light" - Human TF/TG

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Certainly! Here is a fantasy transformation story based on your prompt, taking inspiration from the styles and characters of *Hazbin Hotel* but placing them into a detailed and dramatic metamorphosis into ordinary humans in the real world, with all the elements and transitions you requested.

---

## A Dream of Red, A Morning of Light

**It began, as odd things often do, in the heart of Hell, beneath the lurid red sky.**

Charlie Morningstar stood at the balcony of the Hazbin Hotel, her horns casting long shadows as she stared out into the perpetual neon haze beyond. Her crimson-tinted eyes shimmered with determination. Beside her, Alastor, the ever-grinning Radio Demon, spun his cane in a loose circle, broadcasting static over the infernal air—a signal to no one, and everyone.

The two were locked in an ordinary conversation about the most extraordinary thing: the nature of redemption, the mechanics of change.

**Charlie**: "Do you ever think," she asked, voice soft as down, "what it would mean… to start over? To become someone new?"

Alastor's wide, sawtoothed grin flickered, as if he tasted static on the air. "My dear, change is for the desperate and the damned. Why would I wish for that?"

Their banter was interrupted by a ripple, a shudder in the hellish world, as if reality itself had hiccuped. Alastor's cane shivered in his hands. The mosaic of Hell began to pixelate, the colors bleeding and running as if painted on a waterlogged page.

**Charlie**: "Alastor," she whispered, "something's—"

The light shattered. Crimson, gold, and black bled into blankness. Everything was nothing. And then—something wholly, impossibly new.

#### THE TRANSFORMATION

It began with sensation—the sensation of *loss*.

Charlie felt her fingers contract, her nails softening. Her skin thickened, the flush of her cheeks fading to a simple human tan. Her long, glimmering locks recoiled, shrinking, darkening, receding into the short, neatly-trimmed hair of a man. Her lips faded from their painted black to a natural human pink. The hint of an Adam’s apple started to emerge at her throat, and even as Charlie gasped, her voice muscularized, each word suddenly deeper, resolute, unfamiliar.

Bruised by confusion, she clutched at her chest. Her breasts seemed to sink inward, flattening against her ribs, while in a bizarre, tumbling motion, her whole pelvis reconfigured. Bones shifted, muscles reknit. A surge of sensation flooded her—no, *his*—crotch, as anatomy inverted and pressed outward, sculpting male features until there was no sign that Charlie had ever been otherwise. His tuxedo split and melted, morphing into a pale-red shirt, black overalls, sturdy brown shoes. Even his skin, now human, grew subtly sun-kissed from years spent outdoors.

Charlie's hellborn mind groaned in resistance. *No! Wait—who—am I?* Hazy memories sloughed away. A name rose up in the wilderness left behind: **"Chris."** Chris—for that was his name—blinked, dazed, feeling the soft pudge of a man who worked with his hands but loved an extra helping at the table, sturdy and real and content.

Next to him, Alastor spasmed as if caught in radio static, his form flickering through the frequencies of existence.

His monstrous grin imploded, lips shrinking and then organizing themselves into a tender, feminine pout lightly glazed with berry lipstick. His sharp cheekbones softened. Alastor’s body writhed and compressed—his slim, seven-foot form shrinking, curving, becoming exquisitely, radiantly human. His chest flowered, buds of softness blossoming into two gentle curves beneath a beautiful, flowing red dress. The once-broad, haunted shoulders narrowed, his waist pinching inward even as his hips swelled with fertile promise.

Alastor reached—her hands now delicate, small—down to her newly-curving belly, just in time to feel it bloom outward, round and full with life. The strange fullness within, the private, unnameable shift as her manhood melted away and made room for womanhood, was at once alien and impossibly right.

She tried to speak—the words came out higher, softer, with not a trace of radio static left. The air was clear. The horizon was real. The world pressed in. **Alastor was no more. Anna took her first breath as a woman—with no memory of being anyone, or anything, but herself.**

#### WORLD AND MIND

The grand, impossible Hell faded around them. The color and cartoonish silhouettes swirled, bled into ink, and then into shadow. The ground pulsed, turned black, and with a single blink—light!

Anna awoke in the quiet, familiar space of a cozy real-world bedroom. Beside her, Chris stirred, snoring softly. The sun streamed through floral curtains. On the nightstand sat a glass of water, a parenting book, and a sonogram picture. Across from the bed were photo frames: Anna in her childhood; Anna on her wedding day, radiant in white, hand-in-hand with Chris; Anna all grown, all real, all human, surrounded by the trappings of a happy, ordinary, irreplaceable life.

She sat up, rubbing her belly absently. She felt the baby shift inside, a tiny flutter—her child, her reality.

**Anna**: “Mmmm… what a strange dream…”

Chris rolled over, reaching out in that half-awake way, his broad hand settling comfortingly on her back. His voice was sleepy, filled with love, warm and distinctly *real.*

**Chris**: “You okay, hon?”

Anna smiled, the edges of dream slipping away—just mist and shadow, not worth troubling over. “Yeah… just a funny dream. It’s gone now. I’m just… happy. And hungry.”

**Chris** chuckled, sitting up and stretching, his overalls creased from sleep. “Well, that’s my cue to make breakfast for you *and* the little one.”

She giggled—a sound only possible in the mornings of the real world.

Anna swung her feet off the bed, standing with a practiced care that came only from months of expecting. Photographs of her family—holidays, picnics, graduations—beamed down from their frames. All so normal, so profoundly perfect.

*No memory of demons. No radio voices. No bargains or red skies. Only the ordinary, magic in its own way.*

Anna knew with utter certainty: she had always been herself, always Anna, always human, always loved—soon to be a mother, at home in the world she belonged to.

And somewhere, in the subdued hush of the morning, a phantom static flickered and winked out, never to return.

---

**End.**

This story was generated by user Fizzarolli-Attack1 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 transformation story of Charlie Morningstar and Alastor the Radio Demon (both from an adults cartoon/animated series Hazbin Hotel) turning into a married human man and a pregnant human woman (both from real life), complete with gender change (Charlie turns from female to male, her breasts vanish as her throat gains an Adam's apple to give her a more masculine voice and her female privates (vagina, ovaries, and uterus) from her crotch/nether region invert itself and pushes out into male private parts (a penis and testicles), while Alastor turns from male to female, a pair of womanly breasts grows on his chest, while his mouth shrank to a normal-sized human mouth with his lips plumping up into a woman's lips with lipsticks applied to it, as body becomes more curvy and feminine (with his waists curving inwards while his hips and thighs pump up with feminine fat to make him sexier, and due to becoming pregnant, his belly grows larger and more rotund with a growing baby inside), while his Adam's apple in his throat vanished to make his voice higher-pitched and feminine, while his male genitals (testicles and a penis) invert itself and sucks into his body with a wet "pop" to turn into a vagina, ovaries, and uterus, and his tummy grows rotund due to growing a baby inside), voice change (Charlie's voice becomes deeper and masculine, while Alastor's voice not only becomes higher-pitched and feminine, but also loose a radio static-like effect in his voice), clothes change (Charlie's clothes instantly turns into a human man's outfit, while Alastor's clothes instantly turns into a human woman's outfit), age change, height regression (Charlie , while Alastor turns from 7 feet tall to 5.3 feet tall), supernatural powers loss (both Charlie and Alastor lose their supernatural powers/abilities), art style and reality change (Charlie's and Alastor's world in Hazbin Hotel's depiction of Hell becoming the real world on Earth, with their bodies' art style turning from 2D-animated into live-action to match everyone from this new reality), and mind/mental change (with Charlie's and Alastor's personality and memories becoming fuzzy, with Charlie's being completely replaced with a human man's personality and memories, and with Alastor's being completely replaced with a human woman's personality and memories (as his, now her, face loses her permanent grin and making her able to make various emotions like a normal person), despite their best efforts of fighting these new personality and memories (Charlie remembers his real/true name that starts with "C", and Alastor then remembers her real/true name that starts with "A"), and as the mind clears up, the hellish world around both of them fades away as it briefly turns black and, after turning back to normal (her real life has always been a human woman), the woman (formerly Alastor) jolts back to consciousness, waking up from her dream (which she has completely forgotten about) and back to her true reality (therefore she is back to her true self) and she opens her eyes and wakes up to find herself in her bed within her very own bedroom (with every familiar and comforting items she always knew, as well as a calender, and image frames with herself from different ages as she had always remembered, including family photos of herself and her family (including some vacation photos with her family throughout the years, and baby photos of herself when she was a baby, to name a few), photos of herself as a teenager dating with her future-husband boyfriend (back in their high school days), a photo of her graduation day, a photo of her wedding day with her husband, and many other photos, as she had always remembered) with her husband (formerly Charlie) nearby (who happens to share the same bed as her), she has completely forgotten that she was ever Alastor the Radio Demon, later realizing that she was imagining/dreaming all this time and realizing that her previous self as Alastor was not real (confirming that she was never a man (she had always been a woman) and that she was never a demon to begin with (since demons never existed), even she knew that she was never Alastor (she does not know anyone named Alastor), that was impossible since Alastor was never real (he was just an adults animated character and not real) and she knows that she was and always always had been a human woman and she had always been herself), although she doesn't understand on what she had imagined/dreamt a minute ago, and she remembered that she was and always had been a normal human woman who lived in a peaceful life (and she knew that she always had been a human woman, which is her real and true self), and she knows that she will soon to be mother). For Charlie Morningstar's appearance (before the transformation begins), she is a tall, slender hellborn demon, standing at around 6 feet tall or over. She has long, blonde hair, with lighter blonde and pink highlights, which is tied into a twice-banded low ponytail. Her blonde bangs flip to her left with a curl. Her lips are black and she has rosy red cheeks. She wears grey eyeliners, her eyes are red, her sclera is light yellow, and she has thick black eyelashes, both top and bottom. She accessorizes with a small black bowtie and black suspenders, with an untucked white, long-sleeved dress-shirt. Over this she usually wears a fitted red tuxedo jacket with dark-red lapels and a pair of red fitted pants. She wears black and white saddle shoes. When in her full demon form, a pair of dark-reddish horns protrude from her head and her eyes' sclera turn bright red with slit pupils. Here is Charlie's personality; she is compassionate and empathetic to a fault, feeling genuine upset at the idea of harm coming to others. Although she isn't unaware that Hell is populated with souls that have committed egregious acts in their living lives, she still views their yearly extermination as a senseless waste and makes it her personal mission to help them avoid it via self-betterment and eventual redemption, something she is seemingly alone in believing is possible. Charlie's idealism, while setting her apart from many of her hellborn peers, can also make her naïve to many of the harsh realities that appear to stand in the way of her potential success - something her girlfriend, Vaggie, tries to remind her of, only to be cheerfully ignored in favor of a more blinkered, sunny optimism. This can also cause her to rush headlong into the initial stages of her plans without much preparation. Charlie has a love for musical theatre, song and dance, and will often convey her emotions and ideas through showtunes and ballads. She appears to take perceived failures hard, as she believes her heartfelt theatrical passion should be enough to bring people over to her way of thinking, and is disheartened when it's not as simple as she imagines. She openly admits during a dejected voicemail to her mother that she doesn't actually know what she is doing, or how to make her plan for reforming sinners work in practice. Despite being sweet and lacking 'street-smarts', this doesn't make Charlie a pushover or stupid. When people insult her or openly mock her ideals and plans, she has no hesitation in standing up for herself, or even rolling up her sleeves to physically fight back. She is also not above letting a few cuss words slip. Charlie also displays some grounding in her idealism, understanding that not all demons can be redeemed, or even likely to change for the better. She displays sensible hesitation when confronted with an ambiguous deal from some high-raking demons. For Alastor's appearance, he is a slim (having an unnaturally thin torso, neck, arms, and legs, except his shoulders are broad), dapper sinner demon with beige-colored skin, and usually has an unnaturally broad smile (reaching from each cheek's upper area) full of sharp, yellow teeth (he has no ability to frown due to this permanent smile). He is approximately 7 feet tall. He sports a pinkish-red cropped, angled bob-cut with black tips at the ends and two large, black tipped tufts of hair extending from the top of his head, evoking the ears of a deer. The style has an undercut at the back, and two small black antlers protruding from the crown, which can grow in size in his full demonic form. Alastor's eyes have dark-red sclerae, bright-red irises and thin black pupils (which can change into the shape of radio dials when shifting into his full demon form). He also has four fingers (like all Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss characters), unlike real world humans. His forearms and lower legs fade to dark grey, and he has red hoof-toed feet and red clawed fingers. Alastor wears a red pinstripe coat with dark-red lapels piped with white, which is ragged along the bottom hem. Underneath this he wears a bright red dress-shirt with a black cross on the chest, and long black dress pants with matching bright red cuffs. He also wears a dark-red oval-shaped monocle, rimmed with black, over his right eye. He accessorizes with a black knotted bowtie with a bright red center, black gloves with red at the fingertips, and black pointed-toe boots with red deer hoofprints emblazoned on the soles. Alastor also carries a thin cane with a sentient vintage style microphone attached to it, which he uses to play sound effects and broadcast his voice. His voice also sounds like it is coming from an old-fashioned vintage radio. Alastor has many supernatural powers, such as demon transformation (the ability to turn into a more powerful demon form), flexibility (able to contort his body into numerous unnatural poses), demonic magic (able to cast magic thanks to the high power-level he has accrued in the demon ranking system, this magic takes the visual form of glowing red symbols that resemble Voodoo veve, which float around him), shadow manipulation (able to summon shadows and manipulate them into doing his bidding), spatial warping (able to get around with the help of his shadow, allowing teleportation through this ability), portal creation (able to transport others to his location easily via the portals he makes), pyrokinesis (able to summon small balls of fire for display purpose), phytokinesis (able to make plants wilt with a single stare), manifestation, photokinesis (able to project red glowing light from his eyes as well as his microphone), and outfit alteration (capable of changing the outfits of his targets as well as his own with a snap of a finger). He is also capable of various other abilities including deal-making (as Alastor is known to be a deal-maker demon; deal-maker demons like Alastor can increase their power by dealing in souls, which is a very powerful commodity in hell, so they’re seen as very manipulative and not to be toyed with, deal-making is not something every demon can do, as such it is not to be taken lightly as it doesn’t generally work out well for the other party), broadcasting (when he was a living human, Alastor's profession was as a radio show host, and he continues his broadcasts in Hell as a demon, ensuring that Hell's denizens are aware of his activities over the airwaves, earning him the title of "The Radio Demon"), bilingualism (Alastor can speak English fluently as well as some broken Creole French), cooking (Alastor is noted to be "a big foodie" and mentions having admired his mother's cooking, specifically her Jambalaya), musical/dancing/theatrical talent (Alastor is known to display moderate vocal abilities and excels at dancing, with some people noting tap to be a style he excels in specifically, he also shows a flair for theatrical showmanship), and wide intellect (Alastor is known to be quite a cunning individual, resulting in him accruing a large amount of power through his tricks and deal-making). Alastor stands out from many of the more chaotic residents of hell for his well maintained amiable persona. He gives a first-impression of a good-natured and charming man, wearing a permanently wide grin on his face at all times. His behavior, mannerisms, and even his voice are similar to an old-fashioned radio announcer and speaks with a transatlantic accent, often using quaint anachronisms such as "the picture show" and refers to Charlie as a "charming demon belle". This playful dandyish exterior, however, obscures a much darker side to him - one with high levels of self-importance - and he will not hesitate to use physical violence when others don't act in line with his very particular values or expectations. He is noted to be narcissistic, with his love for himself being stated that no one else can measure up to it, and he does not see many people quite up to his level. Alastor is described as a man of duality. He values good manners, affability and intelligence very highly in others, and will actively look down on those who do not meet his standards, however he will often play fast and loose with these arbitrary rules in regards to himself and his own conduct. Alastor has an odd sense of morality, which is described as "not normal", and has been noted to be quite sadistic, even cannibalistic, devouring lesser demons or those that have incurred his anger. Despite this, he keeps close friends with the other cannibals of Hell, including the denizens at the Cannibal Town. His smiling is a very self enforced form of ego and a show of power and dominance; he looks down on anyone who lets their true emotions show, and even when faced with a rival in strength, if they let slip a frown, Alastor will see them as truly weak. His smile is also to be more unpredictable and unnerving, and gives him a feeling of complete control over himself. While Alastor is powerful, he is aware that there are other demons and entities that rival him in terms of power, such as other Overlords. For this reason, he is wary around such demons, as they could potentially harm him if he is not careful. Despite everything, Alastor does genuinely seem to want to help Charlie run the Hazbin Hotel, albeit for his own amusement, and hopes for its failure over siding with her idealism. Alastor also dismisses the idea that redemption is possible as laughable, nevertheless, he fulfills his role as patron as promised, providing the hotel with staff, and protecting Charlie and her business from outside threats. He views the whole endeavor as a fun distraction from his decades of boredom. Despite consistently having a confident and cheerful demeanor, he harbors a vulnerable side that becomes apparent when confronted with reminders of being "chained". In this instance, his facade of certainty crumbles, and he succumbs to panic attack. According to Mimzy (Alastor's friend), when Alastor was alive he would become a "kitten" (not literally a kitten) if he drank enough rye whiskey while jazz music was on. Here are Alastor's preferences (his likes and dislikes); he likes himself (including his own fashion style), smiling, doodling, gossip and drama, invading others' personal space, his mother and her cooking, jazz music, strong liquor, cooking, seeing people fail, playing pranks, bitter tastes (especially those of black coffee), theater, dancing, the Stock Market Crash of 1929, venison, being in charge, Charlie's potential, pineapple on pizza, and making jokes. However, he dislikes Lucifer Morningstar (the king of Hell and Charlie Morningstar's father) and his "tacky" circus décor, Susan (a Cannibal Town resident), being touched (including his hair being touched), dogs, frowning, tea, anything sweet, Angel Dust's sexual remarks, being humbled, post-30s' technology, anyone ruining his outfit, being controlled and reminded of it, the idea of the hotel failing, and Mimzy bringing destruction to the hotel. For the human man's appearance (after Charlie turned into him), he is an average-sized human, about 180 centimeters (5 feet 9 inches tall) and weigh 89 kilograms (197.9 lbs), and with light tan skin (no red cheeks, black nose, or black lips, only a normal man's cheeks, nose, and lips), short dark hair, handsome normal (human) eyes, flat human teeth, a masculine body, a slightly pudgy/protruding belly, and nice lean muscles (including some nice six-pack abs). His outfit consists of a pale red short-sleeved shirt, a pair of black overalls, and a pair of brown working leather shoes. He (who has a woodworking job, hence his slightly pudgy belly yet with lean muscles) is a caring husband to his kindly wife and he himself is sweet, innocent, fatherly, and smart. For the pregnant woman's appearance (after Alastor turned into her), she is an average-sized human lady, about 159 centimeters (5 feet 3 inches) tall and weighing 59 kilograms (130 lbs), and with light tan skin, long dark hair, beautiful normal (human) eyes, flat human teeth, a curvy body, and a developing baby in her tummy (since she is pregnant). Her outfit consists of a lady's long red dress, a white bra, panties, and black heeled lady's shoes. She is a caring wife to her kindly husband and she herself is sweet, innocent, motherly, and smart. There should also be quotes from the characters in this story so we know what they're saying and what they're thinking.

Response: Certainly! Here is a fantasy transformation story based on your prompt, taking inspiration from the styles and characters of *Hazbin Hotel* but placing them into a detailed and dramatic metamorphosis into ordinary humans in the real world, with all the elements and transitions you requested. --- ## A Dream of Red, A Morning of Light **It began, as odd things often do, in the heart of Hell, beneath the lurid red sky.** Charlie Morningstar stood at the balcony of the Hazbin Hotel, her horns casting long shadows as she stared out into the perpetual neon haze beyond. Her crimson-tinted eyes shimmered with determination. Beside her, Alastor, the ever-grinning Radio Demon, spun his cane in a loose circle, broadcasting static over the infernal air—a signal to no one, and everyone. The two were locked in an ordinary conversation about the most extraordinary thing: the nature of redemption, the mechanics of change. **Charlie**: "Do you ever think," she asked, voice soft as down, "what it would mean… to start over? To become someone new?" Alastor's wide, sawtoothed grin flickered, as if he tasted static on the air. "My dear, change is for the desperate and the damned. Why would I wish for that?" Their banter was interrupted by a ripple, a shudder in the hellish world, as if reality itself had hiccuped. Alastor's cane shivered in his hands. The mosaic of Hell began to pixelate, the colors bleeding and running as if painted on a waterlogged page. **Charlie**: "Alastor," she whispered, "something's—" The light shattered. Crimson, gold, and black bled into blankness. Everything was nothing. And then—something wholly, impossibly new. #### THE TRANSFORMATION It began with sensation—the sensation of *loss*. Charlie felt her fingers contract, her nails softening. Her skin thickened, the flush of her cheeks fading to a simple human tan. Her long, glimmering locks recoiled, shrinking, darkening, receding into the short, neatly-trimmed hair of a man. Her lips faded from their painted black to a natural human pink. The hint of an Adam’s apple started to emerge at her throat, and even as Charlie gasped, her voice muscularized, each word suddenly deeper, resolute, unfamiliar. Bruised by confusion, she clutched at her chest. Her breasts seemed to sink inward, flattening against her ribs, while in a bizarre, tumbling motion, her whole pelvis reconfigured. Bones shifted, muscles reknit. A surge of sensation flooded her—no, *his*—crotch, as anatomy inverted and pressed outward, sculpting male features until there was no sign that Charlie had ever been otherwise. His tuxedo split and melted, morphing into a pale-red shirt, black overalls, sturdy brown shoes. Even his skin, now human, grew subtly sun-kissed from years spent outdoors. Charlie's hellborn mind groaned in resistance. *No! Wait—who—am I?* Hazy memories sloughed away. A name rose up in the wilderness left behind: **"Chris."** Chris—for that was his name—blinked, dazed, feeling the soft pudge of a man who worked with his hands but loved an extra helping at the table, sturdy and real and content. Next to him, Alastor spasmed as if caught in radio static, his form flickering through the frequencies of existence. His monstrous grin imploded, lips shrinking and then organizing themselves into a tender, feminine pout lightly glazed with berry lipstick. His sharp cheekbones softened. Alastor’s body writhed and compressed—his slim, seven-foot form shrinking, curving, becoming exquisitely, radiantly human. His chest flowered, buds of softness blossoming into two gentle curves beneath a beautiful, flowing red dress. The once-broad, haunted shoulders narrowed, his waist pinching inward even as his hips swelled with fertile promise. Alastor reached—her hands now delicate, small—down to her newly-curving belly, just in time to feel it bloom outward, round and full with life. The strange fullness within, the private, unnameable shift as her manhood melted away and made room for womanhood, was at once alien and impossibly right. She tried to speak—the words came out higher, softer, with not a trace of radio static left. The air was clear. The horizon was real. The world pressed in. **Alastor was no more. Anna took her first breath as a woman—with no memory of being anyone, or anything, but herself.** #### WORLD AND MIND The grand, impossible Hell faded around them. The color and cartoonish silhouettes swirled, bled into ink, and then into shadow. The ground pulsed, turned black, and with a single blink—light! Anna awoke in the quiet, familiar space of a cozy real-world bedroom. Beside her, Chris stirred, snoring softly. The sun streamed through floral curtains. On the nightstand sat a glass of water, a parenting book, and a sonogram picture. Across from the bed were photo frames: Anna in her childhood; Anna on her wedding day, radiant in white, hand-in-hand with Chris; Anna all grown, all real, all human, surrounded by the trappings of a happy, ordinary, irreplaceable life. She sat up, rubbing her belly absently. She felt the baby shift inside, a tiny flutter—her child, her reality. **Anna**: “Mmmm… what a strange dream…” Chris rolled over, reaching out in that half-awake way, his broad hand settling comfortingly on her back. His voice was sleepy, filled with love, warm and distinctly *real.* **Chris**: “You okay, hon?” Anna smiled, the edges of dream slipping away—just mist and shadow, not worth troubling over. “Yeah… just a funny dream. It’s gone now. I’m just… happy. And hungry.” **Chris** chuckled, sitting up and stretching, his overalls creased from sleep. “Well, that’s my cue to make breakfast for you *and* the little one.” She giggled—a sound only possible in the mornings of the real world. Anna swung her feet off the bed, standing with a practiced care that came only from months of expecting. Photographs of her family—holidays, picnics, graduations—beamed down from their frames. All so normal, so profoundly perfect. *No memory of demons. No radio voices. No bargains or red skies. Only the ordinary, magic in its own way.* Anna knew with utter certainty: she had always been herself, always Anna, always human, always loved—soon to be a mother, at home in the world she belonged to. And somewhere, in the subdued hush of the morning, a phantom static flickered and winked out, never to return. --- **End.**

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