The FBI’s secret informant in the Charlie Kirk murder? His k*ller’s trans roommate—spilling texts that could blow the lid off a conspiracy.
Tyler Robinson thought he could trust Lance Twigs with his darkest plans. But Lance was wired for the feds from day one, feeding them damning messages: coded threats, escape plots, even whispers of a “bigger network.” Shock, betrayal, a twist that flips the script on everything we thought we knew. Is this lone wolf… or pack leader?
Uncover the explosive exchanges that have prosecutors salivating. Click now before it’s scrubbed. 👇
In a stunning turn that has upended the narrative surrounding the assassination of conservative activist Charlie Kirk, federal investigators have revealed that Lance Twigs, the 21-year-old transgender roommate and romantic partner of accused shooter Tyler Robinson, has been cooperating with the FBI since hours after the September 10, 2025, attack at Utah Valley University. Court documents unsealed late Tuesday in U.S. District Court in Salt Lake City detail a trove of text messages between Twigs and Robinson—hundreds of exchanges over six weeks—that paint a chilling portrait of premeditation, ideological radicalization, and potential ties to a broader network of online extremists. The disclosure, which prosecutors describe as a “game-changer,” has sent shockwaves through political circles, reigniting debates over domestic terrorism, transgender rights in the spotlight, and the role of social media in fueling violence. Twigs, who uses he/they pronouns and has been in protective custody since September 12, provided agents with unredacted access to their shared Discord server, phone logs, and encrypted Signal chats—evidence that could elevate Robinson’s charges from state-level murder to federal hate crimes or even conspiracy.
The bombshell dropped amid mounting pressure on the joint FBI-Utah State Police task force, which has faced criticism for its initial portrayal of Robinson as a “lone wolf” motivated by personal grievances. Kirk, the 31-year-old founder of Turning Point USA (TPUSA), was fatally shot in the neck during a campus debate on free speech, collapsing mid-sentence as a .308 caliber round from Robinson’s modified Winchester rifle pierced the air. The attack, livestreamed to millions, unfolded in broad daylight at the university’s outdoor amphitheater, sparking national mourning and a surge in TPUSA donations exceeding $75 million. Robinson, a former engineering student with a history of progressive activism, was arrested three days later after his father, Matt Robinson, turned him in following a desperate confession call. But the elder Robinson’s anguish—detailed in prior reports as a family torn apart—now takes on new layers with Twigs’ involvement, as texts suggest Tyler may have confided in his partner about evading capture, only to be unknowingly betrayed.
Twigs, a graphic design major from Provo with a public Instagram showcasing art inspired by queer icons like Marsha P. Johnson, first contacted authorities via a hotline tip line at 3:47 p.m. on September 10—less than three hours after the shooting. According to affidavits, Twigs met with FBI agents that evening at a neutral location, a Starbucks in Orem, where they handed over their iPhone and provided passcodes. “I couldn’t stay silent,” Twigs reportedly told Special Agent Maria Gonzalez, per the unsealed docs. “Tyler was spiraling, and I feared for my life—and others’.” The cooperation agreement, signed under duress of potential accessory charges, granted Twigs immunity in exchange for full disclosure. Prosecutors emphasize that Twigs was not implicated in the plot but had grown increasingly alarmed by Robinson’s rhetoric, which escalated from anti-conservative memes to explicit threats against Kirk.
The text messages, excerpted in the 47-page filing, read like a digital diary of descent. Beginning August 1, when Kirk’s UVU appearance was announced, Robinson messaged Twigs: “CK coming to campus. Opportunity to end the hate. Taking it.” Twigs responded with concern: “Babe, that’s dark. Talk to me?” But as weeks progressed, Robinson’s texts grew ominous. On August 15: “Scoped the roof today. Perfect line of sight. Need to mod the scope—got tips from the forum.” Twigs probed gently: “What forum? This scares me.” Robinson dismissed: “Antifa adjacent. Don’t worry, it’s for the cause.” By September 5, five days before the attack, the exchanges turned logistical: Robinson sent photos of the engraved rifle—antifascist slogans like “No Quarter for Nazis” etched into the stock—captioned “Ready for action.” Twigs replied: “Tyler, please stop. This isn’t you.” Robinson’s retort: “It is now. Kirk’s poison kills people like us. One shot fixes it.”
Investigators highlight coded language that suggests external influence. References to “the network” and “handlers” pepper the chats, with Robinson mentioning a Discord server called “Echo Chamber Echoes” where users shared reconnaissance tips and radical manifestos. One message from September 8: “Handler says go time. Escape route via back trails—meet at the spot?” Twigs, playing along to gather intel, asked: “Who’s the handler?” Robinson: “Can’t say. But they’re funding ammo.” FBI cyber experts, cross-referencing with seized devices, traced the server to a loose collective of far-left activists scattered across California and Oregon, some with ties to 2020 Portland protests. No arrests have been made, but warrants are pending for at least three usernames: “RedPillRebel,” “AnarchoArrow,” and “SilentStrike”—all of whom interacted with Robinson in threads bashing Kirk’s anti-trans comments, such as his viral quip calling gender-affirming care “mutilation.”
The revelations have amplified partisan fault lines. Conservatives, already framing Kirk as a martyr at his September 21 memorial—where 100,000 gathered and his dog Max’s emotional leap went viral—seized on the texts as proof of a “deep-state-enabled” conspiracy. President Trump, addressing a rally in Phoenix Tuesday night, thundered: “This trans roommate was feeding the feds, but where were they before the shot? Protecting their own? Charlie’s blood is on their hands!” Vice President Vance echoed on Fox News: “These messages show radical left coordination. We need to drain the swamp of these echo chambers.” TPUSA’s Erika Kirk, widowed and steering the organization through record growth, issued a measured statement: “If there’s a network, expose it. But let’s not demonize an entire community—Charlie fought hate with love.” Donations spiked another $10 million post-disclosure, funding new anti-radicalization initiatives.
On the left, the spotlight on Twigs has sparked backlash and solidarity. Progressive groups like GLAAD condemned “exploitative narratives” that paint transgender individuals as informants or accomplices, noting Twigs’ cooperation likely saved lives. “Lance is a hero, not a headline,” said Sarah Kate Ellis, GLAAD’s CEO, in a press release. “This case highlights how queer people are often caught in the crossfire of extremism.” Online, #StandWithLance trended alongside #JusticeForKirk, with activists sharing Twigs’ art as symbols of resilience. However, far-right trolls on X unleashed doxxing campaigns, forcing Twigs into deeper hiding. Robinson’s defense attorney, Mia Alvarez, decried the unsealing as “prejudicial,” arguing the texts were “cherry-picked” and that Twigs’ immunity deal reeks of coercion. “My client was manipulated by online agitators—Twigs included,” Alvarez told CNN. “This bombshell? More like a dud designed to prejudice the jury pool.”
The FBI’s involvement adds intrigue. Sources close to the probe say Twigs’ tip wasn’t the first; anonymous alerts from UVU’s LGBTQ+ center flagged Robinson’s behavior weeks prior, but campus security dismissed them as “overreach.” Agent Gonzalez’s affidavit notes Twigs provided real-time updates post-shooting, including Robinson’s motel location in St. George—corroborating Matt Robinson’s paternal betrayal. Texts from September 10, post-attack: Robinson to Twigs: “It’s done. Kirk’s gone. Pick me up?” Twigs, stalling under FBI guidance: “Where? Cops everywhere.” Robinson: “Motel 6, room 212. Burner phone dying.” That exchange sealed his arrest, but also revealed Robinson’s paranoia: “If they catch me, say nothing. Network will handle you.” Prosecutors are leveraging this for a hate-crime enhancement, citing Kirk’s criticisms of transgender policies as the motive—potentially adding decades to Robinson’s sentence if convicted.
Broader implications ripple through academia and tech. UVU, still reeling with heightened security and canceled events, faces lawsuits from Kirk’s estate alleging negligence. President Astrid Tuminez announced a “radicalization review” panel, incorporating AI to monitor student forums. Social media giants, subpoenaed for server data, defend their moderation: Discord’s spokesperson said, “We ban extremist content, but users evolve tactics.” Critics like Sen. Ted Cruz (R-Texas) demand hearings: “Big Tech’s blind eye enabled this—time for accountability.” Meanwhile, transgender advocates warn of chilling effects: “Cooperating with feds shouldn’t make you a target,” said Chase Strangio of the ACLU. Twigs, in a redacted statement, expressed regret: “I loved Tyler, but hate twisted him. I had to choose life.”
Robinson’s trial, slated for February 2026, now looms as a cultural flashpoint. Facing the death penalty in Utah—where lethal injection awaits if guilt is proven—the 22-year-old remains in solitary at Utah County Jail, his once-vocal social media silent. Family visits are sparse; Matt Robinson, already shattered by his son’s confession, declined comment, but sources say he’s “devastated” by the roommate’s role. “Another layer of betrayal,” a neighbor whispered. Erika Kirk, channeling grief into action, plans a TPUSA tour themed “Unite Against Extremes,” inviting moderate voices from all sides.
As autumn settles over the Wasatch Front, the Kirk case—once a straightforward tragedy—morphs into a labyrinth of secrets. Twigs’ cooperation, those shocking texts, the hinted network: they don’t just change everything; they expose America’s underbelly, where ideology festers in pixels and partnerships fracture under pressure. Prosecutors vow more revelations; defenders cry foul. For now, one thing’s certain: in the echo of that fatal shot, whispers of conspiracy grow louder, demanding answers in a nation desperate for truth amid the turmoil.