Nope

"What the fuck?" You say to yourself as you put the gun down on a shelf and spin around to look at yourself in the mirror. Your body feels familiar yet strange, as if you've dreamt a very life-like dream and accidentally woke up in the dream instead of the waking world.

You easily take off your bra and give your tits a squeeze. Your body tingles in response, which you weren't expecting but also you did. Memories and instincts of two lives mixing together, one getting clearer each passing second.

"Shit, the gun works?" you say to yourself as you pull down your bottoms to make sure nothing is tucked away. The sensation of a flat mound on your crotch instead of your dick and a look at yourself in the mirror is all the evidence you really need. The hips, your tits, your face, your jewelry... You're definitely female and seem to have been so your entire life. All the stuff you had in the living room, altered or cleaned away.

You are definitely older than before, and you're definitely living a stricter life. Pride in your looks flows through your veins as your new personality is hinting at what makes it tick. Your ability to get your way despite all the systemic challenges to you, both as a woman and a woman of color also tickles your sense of pride.

Still, all of this is fake, but it feels more real for every passing second. You pick up the gun and look at it, pondering what options you got available for you.