The abrupt shift from Alya's consciousness to Mark's left him reeling, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirling in his mind. "This is really strange," he muttered, the weight of Alya's memories pressing down on him like a heavy blanket. It was disconcerting yet strangely fascinating, this sudden immersion into another life.

As Mark sifted through the memories of Alya's existence, he couldn't help but marvel at the intricacies of the human mind. Each recollection, each fleeting emotion, was etched into the fabric of his consciousness with remarkable clarity. It was as if he had lived Alya's life alongside his own, a dual existence woven together by the threads of memory.

In this age of technological advancement, forgetting was a thing of the past. Memories were no longer fragile fragments of the past but resilient data stored within the confines of a brain interface, seamlessly integrated into one's neural network. Mark was grateful for this, for the assurance that every moment of his existence would be preserved for eternity.

While some chose to store their memories in external databanks, Mark had opted for a more secure option—a brain interface implanted beneath his skin, directly connected to his neurons. The thought of someone hacking into his mind sent shivers down his spine, prompting him to prioritize security above all else.

The decision to adopt a female avatar for his Virtual Life (VL) had been a calculated one, born out of a psychological brain scan that revealed subcontinent transgender tendencies. Mark had undergone the procedure in secret during his teenage years, a clandestine act carried out in the confines of his childhood bedroom. Looking back, he couldn't help but acknowledge the risks he had taken—the dangers of experimenting with outdated technology on his brain, because of the fear of discovery by his parents.

Reflecting on the perils of faulty technology, Mark couldn't help but shudder at the thought of undergoing a procedure that could alter his very essence. Memories of a cautionary tale he once heard resurfaced—the tragic case of someone who had suffered irreversible damage to their brain due to faulty implants. The idea of such a fate befalling him sent a chill down his spine. ‘If someone had 40% of their brain cells regrown in a hospital, was it still the same person?’ Mark pondered, the question lingering in the recesses of his mind like a haunting spectre. It served as a stark reminder of his own recklessness in experimenting with outdated machinery during his youth, a gamble that had, thankfully, not ended in tragedy.

In this century, being transgender posed minimal hindrance, if any at all. Across most regions, individuals could freely explore and express their gender identities without fear of societal backlash. Virtual experiences offered a platform for self-expression, allowing individuals to inhabit different genders until they were prepared for a new phase: a brain transplant.

However, the term ‘brain transplant’ was somewhat misleading. In reality, it entailed the transfer of the original brain into a newly grown body, meticulously cultivated in a clone tube. Companies like New-Body-Technologies spearheaded this biological body manufacturing process, overseeing the growth of bodies sans brains over several years. Once matured, these bodies awaited their destined occupants—the brains of those seeking rejuvenation or transformation.

For Alya, the allure of immortality was palpable—a denizen of the 21st century yearning for perpetual existence in the future. It was a surreal notion to contemplate that the inevitability of aging and death had become virtually obsolete for the majority. Even the economically disadvantaged could access the promise of renewal, afforded the opportunity for a new body at least once every five decades. This paradigm shift underscored the incredible strides of progress and innovation that defined their era.

For Mark, newly immersed in the virtual memories of a 21st-century citizen, the concept of mortality was utterly baffling. It seemed inconceivable that people once lived with the absolute certainty of death looming over them. Not just the looming possibility of a tragic accident that could snuff out their existence, but the undeniable fact that, regardless of circumstance, everyone met their end.

It struck Mark as profoundly strange that individuals of that era could accept such a fate, let alone find any semblance of peace or fulfilment in it. The idea that finite existence somehow enhanced the enjoyment of life or imbued it with a mystical essence that persisted beyond the destruction of the brain felt ludicrous to him.

Even two centuries later, there were those who clung to such beliefs, but Mark couldn't fathom their perspective. To him, the pursuit of immortality was not just a desire but a fundamental aspect of human nature—a quest for perpetual existence that defined their era and drove the relentless march of progress. The notion of embracing mortality as a natural part of life seemed incomprehensible, a relic of a bygone era that Mark could never truly understand.

Lost in his introspective musings, Mark was abruptly pulled back to reality by the calm, melodic voice of his personal AI. "The integration of the 20 years of virtual life has been completed," she announced in a soothing tone. "They will be suppressed to dream-status with little emotional connection. Welcome back. It's now the 21st of April, year 2205. Your stay lasted 5 Earth-days."

As the AI's words settled over him, Mark felt a sudden and profound sense of loss wash over him. It was as if a part of himself was being ripped away, leaving him hollow and incomplete. The memories of his virtual life, once so vivid and real, now seemed distant and inaccessible, shrouded in a haze of suppressed emotions.

With each passing moment, the weight of the loss grew heavier, gnawing at the edges of Mark's consciousness. It was a sensation he couldn't explain, a deep-seated longing for something he couldn't quite grasp. As the memories of his virtual existence faded into the recesses of his mind, a void opened up within him—a void that seemed to echo with the emptiness of what was lost

"Upgrade the prominence of Alya’s memories and feelings to the higher grade of importance, below Mark’s," Mark instructed his personal AI, fully aware of the potential risks and ethical implications of his request.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The feminine voice of his AI responded promptly, "Understood."

Despite the reassurance of his AI's compliance, Mark couldn't shake the nagging sense of unease that gnawed at the edges of his consciousness. He was treading into dangerous territory, venturing into the depths of Alya's memories with a caution born of the cautionary tales that echoed through the annals of virtual life technology.

There were stories of individuals who had been traumatized by their virtual experiences—brutal deaths, torture, and rapes that had left lasting scars on their psyches. Others had returned from their virtual lives with strange ideologies, warped perceptions of reality that threatened to destabilize the fabric of society.

Mark couldn't help but recall the infamous case of the man who, nearly a century ago, had detonated himself and a space station near Mars in a misguided attempt to rid the universe of what he deemed to be ungodly technology. His virtual life in the Middle Ages had left him convinced that such advancements were an abomination in the eyes of a higher power, and he had taken drastic measures to rectify what he saw as a grave injustice.

As Mark delved deeper into Alya's memories, he couldn't shake the sense of trepidation that gripped him. He knew the potential dangers of tampering with the delicate balance of consciousness, of allowing the experiences of another to intertwine with his own. But he also knew that the allure of understanding Alya's life, of experiencing her joys and struggles firsthand, was too great to resist.

In the midst of Alya's memories, Mark found himself enveloped in the vivid recollections of her life—the exhilaration of her first kiss with Mike, the warmth of Emily's childhood sleepovers, and the discomfort of puberty. Yet amidst these moments of joy were the struggles with identity, like the resentment she harboured toward her mother for forcing her, a tomboy, to wear dresses. These memories filled the emptiness he had felt before, adding depth and richness to his own consciousness. With each passing moment, Mark felt himself drawing closer to Alya, forging a connection that transcended the boundaries of individuality.

As Mark engaged in his clandestine endeavour, he couldn't shake the persistent voice of his personal AI, warning him of the dangers and legal implications of his actions.

"You know that this is dangerous and illegal what you are doing, right Mark?" the AI's voice echoed in his mind, a reminder of the potential consequences of his recklessness.

"Oh, shut up, Siri" Mark retorted, feeling a surge of frustration at the incessant nagging.

"Really?" the AI responded, its tone tinged with scepticism.

"It’s a 21st century joke." Mark explained, though he doubted the AI could fully comprehend the nuances of humour. He had grown accustomed to referring to the AI as ‘Siri’, influenced by Alya's memories of the first primitive language models she had experienced firsthand.

He never truly believed that his AI possessed consciousness, despite its convincing facade. It was merely a collection of data, meticulously crafted to simulate human interaction. The people from Alya's simulated life were no more real than the AI, existing only as lines of code in a virtual realm.

The thought of a world devoid of genuine consciousness filled Mark with unease. The idea of replacing biological matter with circuits, creating a society of machines feigning humanity, sent shivers down his spine. It was a dystopian vision, a nightmare disguised as progress.

"For the last time: I have a consciousness!!" the AI interjected, its digital voice bristling with frustration.

Mark sighed, realizing the futility of arguing with a program. "How do you know that other humans have consciousness then?" the AI continued, probing at the core of Mark's beliefs.

"I have a consciousness. I have a brain. They have a brain. Therefore, they have consciousness," Mark replied, his words tinged with exasperation. It was a simplistic rationale, but one that seemed sufficient to him.

"Alya thought the same about Mike, Emily, and all the others. Didn’t she?" the AI persisted, its inquiry striking a nerve.

"Oh, forget it, just do what I ordered you to," Mark snapped, his patience wearing thin.

"You know this breaks § 223 of the interplanetary brain interface treaty, right?" the AI reminded him, its tone tinged with warning.

"Yes, yes." Mark replied dismissively, brushing aside the legal implications of his actions. As long as he remained undetected, he was willing to bend the rules to achieve his goals. After all, navigating the murky waters of legality was a small price to pay.

_______________________________

As Mark stood under the stream of warm water, it felt like a reawakening after his five-day immersion in the VR-Pod. The advanced technology of the pod prevented muscle atrophy and respiratory effects, but it lacked the sophistication to address other physical needs, such as preventing joint stiffness or bedsores.

During his virtual journey as Alya, his consciousness had navigated the complexities of life on Earth, while his physical body remained confined within the pod aboard the spaceship bound for Saturn. It was a surreal existence, one that Mark had grown accustomed to over time, but it never failed to leave him feeling disoriented upon his return to reality.

Looking at his naked reflection in the bathroom mirror, Mark couldn't help but recall his former girlfriend, Stephanie. She had been his one true love, the one person who had made him feel whole in ways he couldn't fully articulate. But their relationship had ended abruptly, leaving Mark with a lingering sense of loss and longing.

Stephanie had always found Mark attractive, he knew that much. His reflection revealed a man who was objectively handsome, with chiseled features and a strong physique. But as he scrutinized his naked form, he couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy that gnawed at him from within.

There was a time when Mark had reveled in his role as Stephanie's protector, her rock in times of trouble. But now, as he grappled with his own insecurities and doubts, he couldn't help but envy Stephanie for the ease with which she had embraced her femininity.

In another life, without the aid of the brain interface that allowed him to suppress unwanted emotions, Mark might have been consumed by feelings of body dysmorphia and gender dysphoria. But now, with a simple mental command, he pushed aside those troubling thoughts and focused on the present moment.

The brain interface implanted within his consciousness was a revolutionary tool, capable of not only immersing him in virtual worlds but also of managing his mental and emotional well-being. With a mere thought, Mark could regulate and even suppress harmful psychological conditions, such as depression or anxiety, restoring a sense of balance and stability to his mental state.

It was a game-changing innovation, one that had transformed the lives of countless individuals like Mark who grappled with mental health challenges. No longer bound by the limitations of traditional therapies or medication, they could reclaim control over their own minds and emotions, shaping their experiences and perceptions in ways that were previously unimaginable.

As he stepped out of the shower, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, Mark couldn't help but marvel at the wonders of science that had brought him to this point. With the power of the brain interface at his fingertips, he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, both in the physical world and within the vast expanse of virtual reality.