While Jim finished up the paperwork from their latest outing, Veronica offered to take Medusa on a tour of the base's Exchange and mini-mall area. The walk wasn't far, but the unfamiliar surroundings made it feel much longer. Strange buildings lined the path, their sleek, sculpted designs clashing with older, more utilitarian structures. Their purposes were unclear, some bearing signs with strange symbols. The air carried a mixture of scents—fresh greenery mingled with the tang of unfamiliar building materials she couldn't quite place.

  People moved about the base as though it were its own little town, their attire far different from that of the warriors she had seen earlier. The variety was staggering—brightly colored fabrics, patterned tops, accessories that shimmered under the sun. Some people walked alone, carrying bags; others moved in pairs or small groups, their conversations blending into a murmur of indistinct voices. She stayed close to Veronica, her eyes darting from one new experience to another.

  Afer a short time, they reached a long structure with a large, circular facade at one end. The building was grander than the others, its polished surface reflecting the sun's rays into a multitude of bright colors. As they approached, the clear doors slid open with a soft hiss. The motion startled Medusa, who tensed before quickly regaining her composure.

  Veronica chuckled softly. "Automatic doors," she explained. "You'll get used to them."

  Inside, the space was vast and bright. At the center of the circular facade stood an artificial pond, its water shimmering beneath the overhead lights. A statue rose from the center, elegant and serene, sending thin streams of water cascading in multiple directions. The soft splashing created a rhythmic backdrop to the lively chatter and occasional bursts of laughter that filled the air.

  Shops and eateries surrounded the pond, their signs glowing in an array of colors. A fresh aroma drifted from one corner, while the rich, savory scent of grilled meat wafted from another. Further down the expansive hall, even larger stores stretched out, their entrances framed by sleek, clear panels.

  Medusa found herself drawn to the human-like figures behind the storefront windows. Her heart raced as panic began to set in. Veronica quickly noticed the distress and hurried to reassure her that the figures were entirely artificial—mannequins, she explained, designed merely to display clothing and nothing more. Each display was a carefully curated presentation of fashion—dresses that draped like flowing water, tops adorned with intricate patterns, footwear with designs unlike anything she had ever encountered. The sheer variety of styles was overwhelming, but there was something captivating about it all.

  Veronica nudged her playfully. "See something you like?"

  Medusa hesitated before nodding slightly. "It's... different," she admitted.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Veronica grinned. "Well, if you're up for it, we can take a closer look. Who knows? You might find something that suits you."

  For the first time since entering, she allowed herself a small, intrigued smile. Maybe this strange place wasn't so bad after all.

  The first stop was a manicurist. Medusa held out her hands, watching intently as the woman on the other side clipped her long, ragged nails and filed them down with skilled precision to a much shorter length. Then came the chemicals. The strong aromas reminded her of alchemical mixtures, though these were unlike any scents she recognized. Finally, the woman applied the paint—first a pink base, then a shiny clear coat. When they were done, Medusa couldn't stop admiring her nails. They were so pretty! She curled her fingers inward, slowly, marveling at the unfamiliar smoothness, the gleam that caught the light. Then she spread them wide again, just to watch the way the gloss shimmered at the tips. Her nails had never looked like this before—clean, shaped, adorned. Not a trace of rough edges or soil from long slithers through dust and ruin. Just beauty. Pure and simple.

  It was her first time getting her nails done, and something about it felt indulgent. Luxurious, even. As if she'd slipped into someone else's life for a little while—someone delicate, someone admired.

  She could definitely get used to this.

  Veronica then took her shopping for clothes at the base exchange. Medusa was amazed by the sheer variety of garments, all neatly arranged in rows. They were bursting with colors, patterns, and designs—so different from the plain chitons and robes she was used to. These clothes were magnificent—more elegant than anything any aristo would wear! She touched the fabric of one, marveling at its smoothness and craftsmanship. The embroidery, the vivid colors, the intricate stitching—everything was so beautifully and perfectly crafted.

  She picked out a few blouses and skirts, and Veronica accompanied her into the changing room. Medusa removed her ill-fitting, worn-out bronze chest piece and bracers. They clattered softly to the bench as she shrugged them off, metal against tile.

  Veronica held out something soft. "It's a sports bra," she said gently. "It'll help support your chest under the shirt."

  Next came the light blue blouse, decorated with delicate flower designs. After that, Veronica assisted her with a skirt that touched the ground. She looked down, admiring the flowing fabric. Her waist and hips helped keep the skirt in place.

  Medusa glided to the mirror and took in her appearance. She reached out and let her fingers slide down its smooth surface. "How is this possible?"

  Veronica let out a small chuckle. "Nothing fancy, just glass and reflective paint."

  "It's so clear," Medusa marveled, staring at her reflection. She realized she could adjust her height, raising or lowering herself to reveal or conceal her lower body. She looked... almost human. The only evidence to the contrary was her tail peeking out from beneath the skirt.

  Finally, Veronica pulled out something she called a headscarf and handed it to her with a small smile. "Gather the snakes?"

  Medusa complied, and though the snakes protested with soft hisses at first, they gradually settled against the nape of her neck. Veronica draped the scarf carefully over Medusa's head and secured it beneath her chin. Now the snakes were concealed, visible only at the base of her neck to someone who knew exactly where to look. At first glance, she appeared like any other woman on base—modestly dressed.

  The new look felt strange to Medusa. But there was something about it she appreciated. She could blend seamlessly with those around her, and for a brief moment, she felt as though she truly belonged.