He Survived the Great Incident. His Coworker Didn't

Ethan was still trying to process his own reflection in the mirror. The Great Incident, as the media had dubbed the strange cosmic phenomenon that had scrambled the genetic and physical traits of people across the city, had changed him considerably. The short, skinny guy he used to be had been replaced by a tall man with broad shoulders and thick, curly hair.

He knew he had gotten off relatively well.

Then he saw the messages in the work group chat.

Victor, his accounting colleague, had rushed through a divorce because of the “changes” that had happened to him.

Concerned about his friend's state of mind after such a sudden breakup, Ethan bought a few beers and went to Victor's apartment. He expected the usual scene of a newly divorced man: pizza boxes, a bearded guy in sweatpants, and someone dramatically mourning the end of his marriage.

Instead, when the door opened, Ethan froze in the hallway, nearly dropping the beers.

Sitting on the old floral sofa in the living room was Victor.

Or at least, whatever was left of him.

The Great Incident hadn't simply changed his gender. It had transformed his body into a bizarre living patchwork of the women who lived in the area. That, apparently, was the real reason his wife had fled in panic.

His delicate skin seemed to belong to the building manager's daughter. The striking features of his face reminded Ethan of the woman who owned the bakery downstairs. And his long, slender legs looked as though they had been borrowed directly from the model who lived on the top floor.

To make matters even more surreal, Victor's clothes looked as if they had been collected from one closet after another.

He was wearing a short black floral dress, white fishnet tights, and towering white strappy heels tied around his ankles.

Victor crossed his legs with an effortless elegance that clearly belonged to someone else's muscle memory, resting one hand on his knee. Even his hairstyle seemed borrowed. Two neat pigtails framed his face, held in place by colorful hair ties that Ethan immediately recognized as belonging to Victor's younger sister.

“She's taken everything, Ethan. Even my old clothes, just to spite me,” Victor grumbled.

His voice came out soft, melodic, and unmistakably feminine. He cleared his throat afterward, annoyed by the sound.

“I had to rummage through the donation boxes in the building and raid my sister's room just to find something to wear.”

Ethan swallowed hard, trying to keep his eyes from wandering and focusing instead on the grumpy accountant he knew was still hiding somewhere behind that completely transformed appearance.

“Man... I'm... I'm really sorry about the divorce,” Ethan stammered, straightening his posture in his own newly tall body. “I thought you were having a hard time, but I had no idea the change was... this extreme.”

Victor sighed, running his long fingers over the straps of one sandal as he stared into the suddenly quiet room.

“Having a hard time? Ethan, I'm a complete mess.”

He paused.

“My wife left me because she said she couldn't stay married to someone who was prettier than her and who had inherited the features of the neighbor she hated.”

Victor looked down at himself, then back at Ethan.

“Now tell me... how am I supposed to show up at the accounting office tomorrow looking like this?”