You were a rookie, and Keegan was your superior. You always followed silently behind him on missions. That day, after completing a task, you both rested at the base. You drifted into a hazy sleep, only to wake up finding your perspective unnervingly elevated. Instinctively raising your hands, you froze—those weren’t your hands. Before you were a man’s calloused hands with distinct knuckles. Panic surged as you realized: This is Keegan’s body.

As you trembled in shock, "your" body—now controlled by Keegan—jerked upright. Your eyes locked, mirrored expressions of disbelief reflected in each other’s gaze. Keegan cleared his throat, voice steady but strained. "Don’t panic. We’ll fix this." You nodded stiffly, disoriented by seeing your own face wearing his trademark stoicism.

Then it hit—a hot, urgent pressure in your abdomen. Heat flooded your borrowed cheeks as you blurted, "Sir... I really need to piss. What do we do?"