Christopher Zielen sat stiffly in the molded plastic chair outside the guidance counselor’s office, his palms slick with sweat and his heart pounding with relentless urgency. The sterile hallway of the high school felt suffocatingly quiet, every second dragging by slowly. He kept his eyes fixed on the scuffed floor tiles beneath his feet, tracing the tiny cracks between them as if they might reveal some hidden answer, some clue to what he had done wrong.

He hadn’t cheated. He hadn’t talked back. He knew the rules by heart and had followed them without question. Stay quiet. Keep your head down. Finish your assignments on time. Never meet a girl’s eyes unless spoken to. When female students laughed or sneered, when they barked at him to move or mocked him in passing, he said nothing. He obeyed. Always. And yet, here he was… summoned. And everyone knew what it meant when a boy got summoned.

His mind spiraled through the worst of the rumors. The shrinking. The re-education programs. The breeding camps. The disappearances. He was only weeks away from graduation, so close to crossing the invisible finish line that separated boys who survived from those who vanished. Freedom wasn’t quite the right word. No man was ever truly free. But once school ended, he would be assigned to the Labor Corps. It would be grueling and demeaning, but at least it was a life. He could dig trenches, clean out septic lines, sort recycling… thankless jobs, but ones that didn’t end with him inside a box on some store shelf.

Too many of his classmates had never even made it this far. One wrong word. One delayed response. One glance interpreted the wrong way. That was all it took. Then they vanished… pulled from class, from routine, from the world they knew, disappearing into some distant, silent system. Whatever happened next was never discussed, but everyone understood. They became property.

Chris had witnessed what came after. Not just through whispers and rumors, but in full, terrible clarity. From his own mothers, from teachers, classmates, neighbors, even government officials, he had seen how shrunken men were treated. The cruelty wasn’t rare. It was expected. Sometimes it was offhanded, thoughtless. Other times it was deliberate, with smiles that lingered too long. Shrunken men weren’t considered human anymore. They were diversions. Trinkets. Playthings. Was that the future waiting for him?

The soft hiss of the office door yanked him out of his thoughts. He jumped, shoulders tightening. Standing in the doorway was Ms. Lyra, the school’s guidance counselor. She was an older woman, tall and poised, her pale hair arranged in a flawless bun at the base of her neck. She wore soft linen slacks and a high-neck blouse, as crisp and composed as the smile she offered. It was the kind of smile female students found comforting. But to Chris, it was terrifying. Authority cloaked in calmness was still authority.

“Chris? Come in.”

He rose on trembling legs and stepped into the office, his gaze darting around instinctively. A thick rug covered the floor, soft and muted in color, muffling his footsteps. One wall displayed posters printed with sleek typography, each urging notions of potential, purpose, and progress. Near the window, a tall leafy plant basked in the sunlight, its vibrant green leaves brushing the glass. It all felt carefully curated, like a trap.

Ms. Lyra gestured to the armchair across from her desk. It was upholstered in a plush cream fabric that looked too soft for boys like him. “Please, sit. You’re not in trouble.”

That phrase only deepened the dread. Boys were always told they weren’t in trouble… until they were. Still, he obeyed, settling at the edge of the seat like it might bite him if he leaned back.

She studied him for a moment, then folded her hands atop the sleek glass surface of her desk. Her smile softened into something more genuine. “Chris, your academic record is exceptional. You’ve consistently ranked highest in science and mathematics among the boys. You’ve even shown potential that exceeds some of your female peers.”

He blinked, uncertain whether to be proud or afraid. Praise from women towards male students was rare, unheard of even.

“Thank you,” he whispered, almost afraid to say it.

She gave a small nod, as though she had expected humility, even fear. “Your talents have not gone unnoticed. In fact, your test scores qualified you for a program most males never get the opportunity to even dream about.”

His stomach twisted. “I’m not being… shrunk?”

A soft laugh escaped her. “No, no. Quite the opposite.” 

She opened a thin folder on her desk and slid a sleek black tablet toward him. The screen lit up with the gold seal of the Ministry of Advancement and Integration. A silhouette of a woman’s profile rose from the center, her chin lifted, surrounded by stylized arcs of orbiting code.

“This,” she said, “is your invitation to the Transcendence Initiative.”

He stared at it, then looked back at her. “I don’t… what is it?”

Her voice dropped into something softer. “It’s a state-sponsored transformation program. It allows select males, those with high cognitive capabilities, to undergo complete gender reassignment. Physical. Neurological. Legal. Once you complete the process, you’ll be a full citizen. Recognized and protected as a woman. You’ll have the right to own property. Choose a career. Vote. You’ll never wear a collar. You’ll never be registered. You’ll never be bought or sold.”

He gaped, his brain struggling to form a response. “You want to… turn me into a woman?”

Ms. Lyra didn’t flinch. “We want to give you the future you’ve earned. The one your birth denied you. If you remain in the system as you are, your mind will be wasted. Eventually, the state will reassign your labor, or worse, your body. You’ve seen it happen. We all have.”

He shook his head, struggling to process. “But… my mothers…”

“They’ve already signed,” she said gently. “Consent was required to begin the vetting process. Your results exceeded every threshold. They’re proud. Honored, actually.”

His throat burned. “I… I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to be…”

“Female?” she finished for him, gently.

He nodded, unsure even what he meant.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk, gaze steady. “You wouldn’t be giving up who you are, Chris. You’d be unlocking what you could be. I know it’s frightening. Change always is. But ask yourself… do you want to live your life looking over your shoulder? Do you want to be something that can be owned? Or do you want to build something of your own?”

The tablet on the desk pulsed softly. A single icon blinked at the bottom of the screen: ACCEPT / DECLINE.

For a moment, all Chris could do was stare. His entire life had been built around avoiding attention. Avoiding punishment. Surviving. And now, for the first time, something was being offered that looked like more than survival. It looked like freedom.

Ms. Lyra stood, her voice calm. “You don’t have to decide today. But remember, boys don’t often get second chances. You’ve earned this one. If you say yes, you won’t just escape the system… you’ll rewrite your place in it.”

Chris reached out slowly, fingertips brushing the edge of the tablet. The icon continued to blink, and for the first time in his life, he let himself wonder what it would be like to live without fear. To belong. Not to someone else, but to himself. Or perhaps… Herself.