Earth
The weight of living two lives was becoming clearer with each passing hour, and it was far more exhausting than Tim had ever imagined.
His alarm blared at 6:30 AM, dragging him from the deep sleep that had synchronized both his bodies. The transition back to dual-body awareness was jarring—like suddenly losing half his senses while trying to navigate the world. His nausea had finally subsided, thankfully, replaced by a persistent dull headache that pulsed behind his temples.
Tim dragged himself out of bed, his earthly form feeling impossibly heavy and sluggish after experiencing Lia's Foundation Establishment physique. Every movement required conscious effort, as if he'd forgotten how to operate his own limbs. He showered mechanically, the hot water cascading over his skin while he tried to ignore the phantom sensations of Lia's morning routine occurring simultaneously in another dimension.
The dual-body coordination was proving to be exponentially more difficult than he'd anticipated. Most people struggled to pat their head and rub their stomach at the same time, let alone control two entirely separate forms existing in different realities. As he brushed his teeth, he found himself fumbling with the toothbrush because part of his concentration was focused on Lia examining herself in her bronze mirror.
"Shit," he muttered around a mouthful of toothpaste foam, banging his elbow against the bathroom wall as he lost track of his spatial awareness. "This is like trying to play two different video games simultaneously while riding a unicycle."
The disorientation was getting worse. When Lia moved her arms to stretch, Tim's arms would sometimes twitch in response. When she turned her head, he'd feel a phantom sensation of his neck muscles contracting. It was as if his nervous system couldn't quite figure out which signals belonged to which body.
Getting dressed became an adventure in coordination failures. Tim put his shirt on inside-out twice before realizing the problem, and he spent five minutes looking for socks while Lia was simultaneously getting dressed in her sect robes. The competing visual inputs made him feel like he was developing some kind of supernatural vertigo.
He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, automatically comparing his reflection to Lia's image still fresh in his mind from her own mirror examination. The contrast was stark and depressing. His body was soft and out of shape—a typical thirty-year-old man who spent too much time sitting at a desk and not enough time exercising. Compared to Lia's perfectly toned, supernaturally enhanced physique, he looked like a melted candle.
"Maybe I can start working out seriously," he thought, turning away from the unflattering comparison. "I wonder if I can actually cultivate qi on Earth somehow. If Lia's body can live over two hundred years as a Foundation Establishment cultivator..."
The knowledge had come from Lia's inherited memories—even basic Qi Refining stage practitioners lived significantly longer than normal humans, and Foundation Establishment cultivators could potentially live for centuries. That realization hit him like a freight train. He could be stuck managing this dual existence for decades or even centuries.
"I definitely need coffee before I can process that particular existential crisis," he muttered, grabbing his bag and heading out.
Tim decided to walk to the college rather than drive, knowing that operating a vehicle while simultaneously controlling Lia's body was a recipe for disaster. The walk gave him time to practice mental compartmentalization, trying to build stronger barriers between his two forms.
As he made his way through the morning crowds, he found himself observing the young women around him with new eyes. Their mannerisms, the way they carried themselves, their unconscious gestures—he was seeing it all through the lens of someone who now inhabited a female form. "My other body is probably around the same age as some of these students," he mused, watching a group of college girls chatting animatedly as they walked.
The thought was both fascinating and deeply uncomfortable. He was simultaneously a thirty-year-old male teacher and a nineteen-year-old female cultivation prodigy. The psychological implications were staggering.
The bell rang as he approached the lecture hall, signaling that classes were about to begin. Tim walked into the room, plastering on his professional smile as he tried to project enthusiasm he didn't really feel. The college students looked up from their phones and notebooks with the typical mixture of alertness and resignation that characterized Monday morning classes.
"Good morning, everyone. I'm Professor Jones," he said, his voice sounding steadier than he felt.
"Morning, Professor," came the scattered, halfhearted responses typical of university students who'd rather still be in bed.
Tim smiled genuinely for the first time that morning, feeling a bit better as he looked at these young adults earnestly trying to learn. They had so much energy and life ahead of them, so many possibilities stretching into the future. "Today we'll be discussing past tense constructions and perfect aspects in English grammar," he announced, turning toward the whiteboard.
He started writing examples, but his concentration was split as Lia began walking toward Elder Cho's pavilion in the cultivation world. The competing demands on his attention created a dangerous mental drift. Without conscious thought, his hand began forming the flowing characters he'd seen in Lia's memories—elegant script that looked like artistic calligraphy rather than English grammar.
"Professor Jones," a voice called out from the middle of the classroom. "What language is that?"
Tim blinked, looking at the whiteboard in confusion. Instead of the English grammar examples he'd intended to write, the board was covered with what appeared to be cultivation terminology: "Foundation Establishment requires meridian purification through systematic qi circulation and dantian expansion."
A wave of embarrassment and panic washed over him as he realized how badly his dual consciousness had just malfunctioned in front of his students. "Oh, sorry about that," he said quickly, grabbing the eraser with shaking hands. "I had a bit of an accident after the meteor shower this weekend. Still not fully recovered yet, apparently."
He hastily erased the mysterious script and rewrote the intended English lesson, but as he worked, he noticed one student in particular staring at him with wide, recognition-filled eyes. Riku, an eighteen-year-old business major who usually sat quietly in the middle of the room, was gripping her pen so tightly her knuckles had gone white.
Some students giggled at his obvious confusion, while others seemed sympathetic to what appeared to be post-concussion symptoms. But Riku's reaction was different entirely. Her breathing had become shallow and rapid, and she kept glancing between Tim and her notebook as if she'd just witnessed something impossible.
"Professor," Riku said, her voice carefully controlled but with an underlying tremor of excitement or fear. "That script you just wrote... where did you learn it? I've never seen anything like it."
Tim's heart skipped a beat. Her tone suggested this wasn't casual academic curiosity—there was recognition in her voice, as if she'd seen similar writing before. "I... honestly, I'm not entirely sure," he replied, studying her face carefully. "Since the meteor shower, I've been having incredibly vivid dreams. Strange ones that feel more real than they should."
Riku's eyes widened further, and she nodded slowly as if he'd just confirmed something she'd been hoping to hear. She went back to taking notes, but Tim could see her hands shaking slightly as she wrote. Her entire posture had changed from relaxed student to someone who'd just received earth-shattering news.
The rest of the class seemed to drag on forever. Tim struggled to maintain focus on English grammar while watching Riku out of the corner of his eye. She was clearly wrestling with some kind of internal debate, occasionally opening her mouth as if to ask another question before thinking better of it.
When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of class, students began filing out in their usual chaotic fashion. Tim waited until the room had mostly cleared before approaching Riku, who was still sitting at her desk, staring at her notes with an expression of stunned disbelief.
"Riku," he said softly, "could I speak with you privately for a moment?"
The young woman looked up at him with eyes that held a mixture of hope, fear, and desperate curiosity. She nodded wordlessly, following him into an empty classroom down the hall. Tim carefully locked the door behind them, ensuring they wouldn't be interrupted.
"Tell me what happened to you after the meteor shower," Tim said gently, keeping his voice low and supportive.
Riku looked around nervously, as if checking for hidden listeners, before speaking in a hushed, urgent tone. "I saw a light," she whispered. "A bright, white light that seemed to fall from the sky and enter my chest. Since then, I feel like I'm... somewhere else too. Living a second life. That script you wrote on the board—I've seen it before. In my... other place."
Tim felt a wave of relief so intense it nearly knocked him over. He wasn't alone in this impossible situation. "Another split soul," he thought gratefully.
"What do you see in this other place?" Tim pressed, moving closer and keeping his voice equally quiet.
"A desert," Riku replied, her words coming faster now as excitement overcame her initial nervousness. "I'm someone else there—a man named Varek. I have fragmented memories of his life, his training, his techniques. He's something called Foundation Establishment level 4, whatever that means, but I can move incredibly fast and do things that should be impossible. And he's slightly older than I am as Riku." She paused, studying Tim's face carefully. "When you wrote those characters about meridian purification, I recognized them immediately. Varek has seen those exact terms in cultivation manuals."
Tim felt a mixture of relief and excitement wash over him. Finally, someone who could understand what he was going through. "Can you get Varek somewhere safe where you can focus entirely on this conversation? I'm finding it incredibly difficult to manage dual awareness while trying to have a serious discussion."
Riku nodded eagerly, closing her eyes and concentrating intensely. Her breathing deepened, and Tim could see her eyes moving rapidly beneath her closed lids as she shifted her primary consciousness to her other body. After several minutes, she opened her eyes with a sharp gasp.
"Holy shit," she breathed, then immediately looked embarrassed at her language. "Sorry, Professor. But yes, I managed to get Varek to a safe cave where he can rest quietly. This is... this is really happening, isn't it? You're experiencing the same thing?"
"Yes, but call me Tim when we're discussing this," he replied, feeling the formal teacher-student boundaries dissolving rapidly under the weight of their shared impossible circumstances. "And you're absolutely right—we should probably keep this between us for now. If other people knew, they'd either think we're having shared psychotic episodes or they'd want to study us like lab specimens."
Riku agreed readily, though her expression showed she was still processing the magnitude of their situation. "We need more information though. Do we tell anyone? Family members? Close friends? How do we even begin to research something like this?"
Tim shook his head firmly. "Not yet. For now, let's focus on observation and making sure our other selves don't die. Neither of us understands how this connection works or what would happen if one of our bodies was seriously injured or killed."
Riku's expression suddenly brightened, and she smiled for the first time since their conversation began. "You know what though? This is actually kind of amazing, right? We're literally living in a cultivation world! It's like every fantasy novel and anime I've ever watched, except it's really happening to us."
"Yeah," Tim replied with a wry chuckle, "except when one body needs to use the bathroom while the other is trying to teach English grammar to college students. The coordination challenges are... significant."
Riku burst out laughing, the sound bright and genuine. "Oh my god, you have no idea! I've learned more about male anatomy in the last few days than four years of health education classes ever taught me. Some discoveries have been... enlightening."
Tim chuckled, realizing that the gender swap aspect must be just as awkward and confusing for her as it was for him. "Speaking of discoveries, have you figured out how to use the storage rings yet?" He explained the process of qi injection and device activation, watching Riku's eyes light up with excitement.
"Wait, Varek has those ring things? And there's actual social media in a cultivation world?" she squealed, her voice rising with enthusiasm before she remembered to keep quiet.
"Apparently advanced technology and ancient cultivation techniques coexist there in ways that shouldn't make sense but somehow do," Tim confirmed. "My other self—Lia—has over half a million followers on her cultivation social media accounts."
"Your other self is female?" Riku asked with surprise, though she seemed more intrigued than shocked.
"Yeah, and yours is male. We both got the complete gender-swap experience," Tim said, running his hand through his hair as the complexity of their situation hit him anew. "This is going to be incredibly complicated to navigate."
Riku nodded thoughtfully, her expression growing more serious. "We're going to need to be very careful about how we handle this. Not just keeping it secret, but figuring out how to live as completely different people in another world while maintaining our normal lives here."
"Exactly," Tim agreed. "And we're going to need each other's help to figure it out."