The Change will start slow. Dull colours-- boring browns, drab olives, and ashy greys. The colours of what was. Much like a caterpillar, your metamorphosis will be grand, but not without a lot of pain in between. Liquification in your cocoon, as it were. The time between the Now and Then will seem infinite, little moth. You will dream; you will dream of lilac and bloody poppy fields. A small touch of myself, to not forget who you are, and reminders of those before you. Those who made you. You'll remember them all. You will bathe in their suffering, little one.
Are you still so sure you wish to change?