Sybil had been fairly young when the apocalypse started. She hadn’t known then that she was trans, but that didn’t mean the discomfort went away. Even in a dystopian world, she still felt uncomfortable when people talked about her. Still looked in reflections and saw someone she didn't know. It didn't matter that the world was ending, she still had feelings. How could she ignore that?

Now, a few years later, she was well into her transition. Her hair had grown out and, strangely enough, she had access to estrogen. That didn’t seem to be a sought-after drug in the medicinal areas, which were often raided first. Luckily for her.

“Find any?” she hummed, swinging her legs lightly as she sat on the counter, watching her friend search for her.