The afternoon should have been quiet. Instead, it turned into a disaster the moment the spell went wrong. She stared down at herself—no, herself wasn’t the right word anymore—and let out a scream that echoed across the overlook. “RETURN MY BODY!!!” A few feet away, the culprit waved cheerfully. Toga—grinning ear to ear—stood comfortably in a body that clearly wasn’t meant for her, rolling her shoulders like she was trying on a new jacket. She looked far too pleased with the results. “Oh relax,” Toga said, flexing experimentally. “You have no idea how much power this thing has.” The original owner of that body struggled to keep her balance, still adjusting to the unfamiliar weight, strength, and center of gravity. Every movement felt exaggerated, like gravity had suddenly decided to work overtime. Clothes strained, nerves flared, and dignity vanished in real time. “This isn’t funny!” she snapped, trying to cover herself while simultaneously not falling over. “You can’t just steal someone’s body and walk around like this!” Toga tilted her head, inspecting herself from another angle. “Hmm. I can, actually. But don’t worry—it’s temporary.” Her smile widened. “Probably.” From behind, the scene looked even more absurd: one body tense and awkward, the other relaxed and confident, as if it had always belonged to Toga. Power crackled in the air—not just supernatural power, but the unspoken realization that bodies weren’t just shells. They carried habits, limits, and consequences. The spell would wear off eventually. Until then, both of them were stuck learning a very uncomfortable lesson about identity, control, and what it really meant to walk in someone else’s skin. And Toga? She was enjoying every second of it.