Stacy stirred awake as the morning light filtered through her blinds, casting a soft glow across her room. She reached out groggily for her glasses on the nightstand, slipping them on without much thought. Another day, another stack of emails. She yawned, stretched, and padded into the bathroom, still half-asleep.
It wasn’t until she switched on the light and glanced at the mirror that her eyes widened.
The person looking back at her was… still her. The familiar hazel-green eyes behind the round glasses, the same crooked brow she got when she was tired, and the same slight tilt to her nose. But everything else was unmistakably male.
Her jaw was square, her features more defined. Dark facial hair framed her mouth and chin, and her once-delicate neck now led to a broad, hairy chest with a strong build beneath it. Her hand lifted instinctively to her chest, feeling the coarse texture and firm muscle beneath her touch. Her breath hitched.
She leaned in closer, studying the reflection. It was like someone had sketched a version of her if she had been born male — not a stranger, but not entirely familiar either. The face staring back was hers. Just… reimagined.
“What the hell?” she muttered, and even that made her pause. Her voice was deeper, richer, yet still carried her inflection. She rubbed her face, half-expecting the mirror to glitch or the dream to end.
But no. This was real.
Rushing back into her bedroom, she grabbed her phone, heart thudding. The screen exploded with news alerts, texts, and headlines:
“The Gender Wave: Global Shift Rewrites Reality Overnight.”
“Scientists Scramble for Answers as Entire Population Flips Gender.”
“Is This Permanent?”
Stacy sat down on the edge of her bed, phone resting in her lap, her eyes fixed on her reflection across the room. The man in the mirror was her. Different… but still undeniably her.
And for the first time in her life, she truly didn’t know what the day would bring.
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