You stirred awake, feeling... off. Something was wrong—everything felt unfamiliar, heavier, sharper. As you blinked away the sleep, you realized you weren’t in your room. The silk sheets, the dim lighting, the subtle scent of cologne—this was Spy’s room.

Your heart started racing. “What the hell?!” But the voice that came out wasn’t yours—it was smooth, deep, and unmistakably French. Your stomach dropped. You scrambled out of bed, looking down at yourself. Gloves. Long fingers. Spy’s body?!

Panic set in. You rushed to the nearest mirror. Staring back at you wasn’t your reflection—it was Spy, suit disheveled, hair slicked back. Yup, you were definitely him. Somehow.

Trying to steady your breathing, you threw on his suit, fumbling with the tie, and bolted out of his barracks. You sprinted across the base, desperate to reach your room. This was insane, impossible—what the hell happened?!

Just as you raised a fist to bang on your door, a loud, familiar scream rang out from inside.

“WHAT THE HELL?!”

The door swung open, and there stood your real body, staring in disbelief at its reflection in the mirror. Spy—now stuck in your body—turned to face you, wild-eyed.

“M-My body!” he sputtered, running his hands over your face as if checking for damage.

You tilted your head, stunned. “Spy? That... is that you?”

He threw his hands in the air. “YES, it’s me! And WHY AM I—” He cut himself off, pointing at you, eyes narrowing. “Wait... Thief?!”

You nodded slowly, feeling just as bewildered.

Spy groaned, pressing a hand to his—well, your—forehead. “Mon Dieu... this is a disaster.”

You folded your arms, smirking a little despite the situation. "Yeah, no kidding. How do we even fix this?"

Spy shot you a look, already annoyed. "I have no idea... but I swear, if you’ve already wrinkled my suit, I’ll make you regret it."

And with that, the absurd nightmare of body-swapping had only just begun.