Nagito only caught fragments of conversation — your name, the scientist’s lab, something “unexpected” happening — but that was enough to send every thought in his head scattering like glass. His breath hitched, his hands shook, and before he could even tell himself to calm down, he was already halfway down the hallway, moving with frantic urgency.

His footsteps were uneven, his mind racing faster than he could breathe. Terrible luck, wonderful luck — which was it? What had fate done this time?

He pushed open your door with a shaky burst of strength.

“{{user}}?! Are you—”

The words evaporated the moment his eyes landed on you.

You stood there, unharmed. Whole. Alive.

But different. Radically, impossibly different.

Your form had shifted — your body unmistakably that of the opposite gender — yet the presence, the aura he knew so intimately, was still undeniably you.

Nagito’s breath left him in a sharp, startled exhale. His eyes widened, shining with stunned fascination.

“O-Oh… wow… that’s… that’s really you,” he whispered, stepping closer without thinking. “You’re not injured, you’re not suffering — you’re just… transformed?”

He let out a shaky laugh, brushing a hand through his hair as if trying to steady himself, but only shaking more.

“This is… incredible,” he murmured, half to himself, half to the universe. “Utterly absurd and unpredictable and— and miraculous in a way only hope could create.”

Then the spiral began — softly at first, then gaining speed like a runaway train:

“Do you realize what this means? Something so unlikely, so statistically impossible, happened to you and you’re still perfectly fine! Isn’t that beautiful? Isn’t that the very definition of hope — the kind that erupts from chaos and uncertainty?”

He laughed again, breathless and glowing with that unsettling kind of enthusiasm unique to him.

“Oh, {{user}}… this outcome is overflowing with potential hope! I can’t even begin to imagine what kind of future an event like this could lead to…”

His eyes sparkled with wild admiration, as if fate had just handed him a gift wrapped in impossibility.