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The alien had no face, no name, no true shape. It drifted like living fog, unseen by any eye, thinking in frequencies far beyond language. It had traveled across galaxies in search of life—not just intelligent, but embodied. It wanted to feel what it meant to be.

One afternoon, in the lush rainforest canopy of Earth, it found its first subject.

A chimpanzee leapt effortlessly from branch to branch, muscles rippling, teeth flashing. The alien descended like a breath of wind, wrapping the primate in a field of shimmering energy. With a pulse, the alien began siphoning. The chimp froze, then twitched as its thoughts unraveled—primitive, playful, and full of motion.

The alien absorbed it all: the muscle memory of climbing, the instinct to swing, the sheer joy of movement.

It now knew what it wanted: a body that could move.

Then something caught its attention on the forest floor—an abandoned magazine, rain-soaked and torn. On the cover was a human male, standing barefoot on a beach, skin kissed by sunlight, a confident smile on his face. He wore only a tight pair of red-and-black beach shorts, low on his hips. His name: Matt Sato.

The alien pulsed with a new emotion: desire. Not just to move—but to look like that.

The transformation began.

Muscles knit together like wet clay being molded. Skin smoothed and tanned. Black hair sprouted, framing the perfect face. In seconds, standing barefoot in the forest was Matt Sato—but shirtless, barefoot, and only wearing the red-black shorts from the magazine.

The alien looked down, flexing its new human arms, feeling the weight of pecs and abs move with breath. It admired the defined chest, the lean torso, the strength in each limb. But it wasn’t just admiring—it felt something deeper.

It felt wild.

Because in its mind still echoed the instincts of the chimpanzee.

A grin spread across his borrowed face.

Moments later, the jungle canopy rustled violently as “Matt Sato,” shirtless and gleaming with sweat, leapt from one tree branch to the next with primal agility. He whooped, mimicking chimp calls, hair tousled by the wind. His perfect human body, sculpted like a beach model, now swung like a beast of the jungle.

To any observer, it would be surreal—a celebrity’s body, clad in only damp red-and-black shorts, vaulting between trees like a wild animal, muscles tight with every motion, barefoot and free.

And in the alien’s hybrid mind, a single thought repeated: