All my Maids are Robots

Alright, quick question.

Is lying in bed at 2 in the morning, contemplating the idea of putting a drill to your forehead, because the sound of the drill piercing through your skull and into your brain would be slightly less irritating and unpleasant than the horrendous noise of your half-brother's snores as he sleeps in the bed next to yours, related to being transgender, unfortunate circumstances, or simply having a half-brother?

Because, on one hand, my thoughts could be directed towards drilling my head due to the fact that I secretly despised everything about my physical appearance, ranging from my broad shoulders and square jaw to my long golden brown hair that always resembled Fabio rather than appearing feminine, you know. Actually, I strongly disliked everything about it, except for my voice.

I totally, like, despised my voice. It was such a dumb, all macho and rumbly voice. Ugh, it sucked big time.

Or, on the flip side, maybe my thoughts about drilling my head stem from the fact that I was stuck in this tiny room in a cramped apartment, in the crappiest part of Seattle. I really should be sleeping right now because I had to wake up in the morning to go work my nine-to-drop-dead shift, deep-frying food that would probably kill me, just a little slower than if I didn't eat at all.

Oh, and by the way, I was gonna be stuck in this soul-crushing routine, day in and day out, until I kicked the bucket.

Or, on the other other hand (imagine I have three arms in this scenario), it might also be because my half-brother adamantly denied snoring, swearing in every possible direction, even in dimensions that haven't even been discovered yet. I tried to bring up things like sleep apnea, explaining how it messed with his sleep cycle as much as it did mine, the serious risk of choking on his own tongue, and how he could solve it with a simple twenty-dollar mouth guard available at any old Walgreens. But in response, my half-brother would just scoff and label me as weak.

My brother was the type of guy who referred to the novel Coronavirus pandemic as a "planned-demic." If you really want to grasp the essence of him, my step-dad Hank, and my biological mom Janice, it can all be captured in a single, fleeting snapshot.

So, that's the whole setup and my state of mind when out of nowhere, this tiny pale white sphere of light materialized right above my bed. It emitted a soft glow that spread across the entire room, illuminating the cockroach that scurried across our shoes and slipped into mine. It revealed my half-brother's unkempt, wild beard. It revealed my own features and the grimy, tattered covers I had on. My half-brother let out a snorting, grumbling sound, then slowly rolled onto his other side, facing the wall instead of the center of the room.

The sphere didn't make a sound and didn't budge. It just... sat there.

Two thoughts raced through my mind. The first one was that I must be dreaming.

The second one was that if I wasn't dreaming, this might be some bizarre, alien, inexplicable occurrence. Obviously, only a complete idiot would stick their head into it. It could be the targeting light for the Head Exploder 9,000, or the guidance beam for a teleporter that would zap me onto a flying saucer where friendly folks from Alpha Centauri would start poking probes into my ears. It could be any number of dreadful, terrible things.

But you know what it wasn't?

Freaking normal.

That's why I pondered it for a solid five seconds and then plunged my head into the glowing light.

I mean, I could have tested it with my finger or something.

But screw it.

There was no pain.

Just...

Blinding light.

A sensation of descending.

And then a series of steady clicks.

Click. I became aware of the sense of smell. Something green, fresh, and leafy.

Click. I became aware of the sense of sound. Birds chirping, tweeting. Leaves rustling. Grass whispering. I love that word, whispering. It captures a specific sound, one you only encounter while standing amidst the vast fields of Kansas, with the grass extending in every direction and the star-streaked sky above. Or, if you're like me, a poor soul who can only find joy when it's packaged and sold for sixty bucks a pop, when you're playing Breath of the Wild on the Nintendo Switch, wishing you could control Zelda instead of Link.

Click. I became aware of my skin. I was clad in something snug and form-fitting, with a collar that immediately felt like it was choking me. Yet, I could also feel the warm sun on my face.

Click.

Vision.

I found myself standing on a grassy path, my feet pressing down on the strands beneath me. Surrounding me were towering trees—ash, hazel, and birch trees. The kind of trees you'd expect to see in a cliché fantasy video game or somewhere in Europe, but definitely not redwoods or anything. About five feet to my right, there stood an elegant hovercycle with a beautiful combination of brass and wood panels. It had a pair of handles, crafted from teak wood and adorned with solemn lion heads on the ends, and golden-plated brake levers. The handles gracefully curved down toward an inset engine that emitted a pale, glowing energy field, keeping the entire vehicle hovering about two feet above the ground. The saddle-like seat behind the handles was clearly designed for a human rider.

Alright.

In my hand, I held a small golden flower that, as I observed, slowly folded inward from its expanded radial pattern into a compact sphere. It folded so seamlessly that I couldn't locate a single seam. As for my attire, it was a fancy, old-time British outfit complete with a ruff collar and everything. I glanced at my palms and noticed they were unblemished, devoid of any callouses. However, they were slender, pale, and feminine. My heart quickened with excitement, and I became aware of the soothing sound of a babbling brook nearby. Overwhelmed by anticipation, I sprinted toward the brook, inadvertently dropping the sphere in my eagerness.

The water in the brook was crystal clear. I knelt down and peered into it, only to blurt out, "Fuck!"

I wasn't a girl. Lucy wasn't the right fit for me.

That was the name I went by, not on my birth certificate, but hey, Janice married a guy like Hank—what the hell did she know?

I examined the features I possessed, and it became apparent that this had to be a dream. And let me tell you, this dream was a significant improvement over my usual nightmares. Nightmare one involved showing up to high school with teeth infested by explosive spider eggs (don't ask), and nightmare two was the Covid nightmare—yeah, no need to delve into that mess.

Nevertheless, my dream body annoyingly didn't resemble that of a petite girl with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a single anime fang. I wished I could be superhumanly strong, able to fly, and shoot lasers out of my eyes at will, all while being a master of arcane arts to compensate for my vulnerability to magic as a half-Kryptonian, half-Green Martian.

...I had way too much time to contemplate overpowered transgender original characters, okay?

Instead, my dream body turned out to be...

"Well, aren't you a spitting image of Draco Malfoy, you motherfucker," I exclaimed, delighting in how feminine my voice sounded. I bet whoever this guy used to be before I swapped minds with him (because that's totally how it would work in fiction... though, would it function the same way in dreams? I should make a note of it if I ever actually get isekai'd into another dimension) was seething with frustration over how effeminate he sounded. I wondered if he tried to deepen his voice and sound more macho. Well, screw him, I was thrilled to sound so girly!

But I wasn't lying. I really did resemble Draco Malfoy. I had long, nearly white blond hair, and my eyes were... well, red. Yes, they were definitely red. And... I reached up, pulling back my upper lip, attempting to whistle while doing so. Lo and behold, there were two freaking fangs. I furrowed my brow, then glanced at my arm, and couldn't help but grin as I turned my palm upward toward the sun. "The Ordo Dracul will be absolutely fascinated by my recent discoveries," I muttered, hamming up my voice as much as possible. "It appears that I, a mere neonate, have unlocked the power of sunwalking."

I paused, then surveyed my surroundings.

Okay, luckily no one was around to witness me being a total nerd. Good.

Still, as pale as can be, with feminine features, long white hair, red eyes, and fangs. And was I wearing... a Victorian-style coat?

I was some kind of fancy vampire guy.

Definite improvement!