Lunar Fury

My feet pound against cold pavement as I race through London's financial district, a cruel mockery of my usual confident stride in designer heels. Each step sends shockwaves of agony through my transforming body. The glass-walled skyscrapers that once represented my success now feel like prison walls, their reflective surfaces multiplying my distorted form as another wave of change ripples beneath my skin.

God, the smells. The acrid stench of exhaust fumes burns my nostrils. The thunderous drumbeat of distant construction threatens to split my skull. Even the air tastes different – metallic, thick with the fear radiating from my own pores.

A group of traders stumbles out of a nearby pub, their drunken laughter piercing my ears like shattered glass. I duck into a shadowy alley, pressing myself against rough brick as my bones begin to shift and crack.

"Turn right at the next intersection." Fiona's voice crackles through my earpiece, steady despite the urgency in her tone. "There's an ac