Emily was playing dodgeball in PE, the gym filled with the chaos of shrieks, grunts, the sudden loud screeches of sneakers on polished wood, and a flurry of motion.

Daniel, as always, was in near-perfect sync with her. Over time, their bond had grown so seamless that the idea of being a “passenger” didn’t even cross his mind anymore. When Emily ducked, it felt like he ducked; when her hand moved, it felt like his hand guiding hers. Her pounding heart echoed in him, their breaths rising and falling together. They weren’t two beings anymore—they moved as one.

Still, unity had its limits.

Problems came up when they disagreed about what to do, and those moments made the “two minds, one body” dynamic crystal clear—like one half of a brain arguing with the other. Sometimes, it even played out physically. Like the time Emily decided to ‘investigate’ her dad’s toolbox, drawn to the forbidden allure of her father’s power tools.

“Oof, we would’ve been in for it,” Daniel privately thought at the memory of pulling her back from the sharp drill bits and saw blades. He’d had to coax her away, her protests agitated and impossible to ignore in their shared headspace. She’d let out some impressively dramatic squeaks and squawks, but ultimately relented and quietly retreated from the garage.

Focusing on the game, which was in full swing, Daniel decided it was as good a time as any to take a break in the dreamscape.

Back when their bond was new, getting into the dreamscape required effort—meditating, focusing, easing into it. Now - it was akin to flipping a switch.

It had become their go-to retreat during boring classes—though, to be fair, Emily didn’t need to pay much attention to those. Thanks to their merge, her brain had access to his knowledge and experience, practically turning her into a walking supercomputer.

“Hey, Em, I’m heading to the dreamscape for a bit. You good on your own?” he quietly asked in their shared mental headspace.

“Yeah, yeah, old man. Go brood or whatever.” Emily’s replied panting, clearly focussed on dodging the rather large balls being thrown at her.

“Old man?” Daniel muttered with a sigh of amused exasperation. In the very next moment, he felt himself entering the dreamscape, the real, physical world spinning and dissolving around him and the dreamworld appearing with a slight dilation.

“Still got to work on landing more smoothly” he thought to himself shaking his head as his senses adjusted to this new surroundings.

Momentarily he opened his eyes, and smiled as he gazed at the familiar meadow that was his and Emily’s entry point into the dreamworld.

—

He breathed deeply, knowing this wasn’t actually air but it felt right nevertheless. He stretched, yawned and decided to take a walk in a random direction, enjoying the warm, pleasant breeze, the birdsong, the smell of cherry blossoms from Emily and his joint tre. He looked at his ‘body’, his arms and legs, always a little in awe by how real all this felt especially after sharing a body most of his days.

Over time, they’d expanded the meadow incrementally, bit by bit each day. Clouds drifted lazily overhead, hills rolled far into the distance, and an ocean breeze occasionally wafted through.

Of course, not everything here made sense.

Daniel’s coffee machine sat tucked away in a corner of the meadow by a cozy armchair, and a giant, obnoxious pink bunny Emily had declared as “hers” loomed near a tree like a bizarre sentinel. There was also a picnic table that looked suspiciously like it belonged in a castle dining hall and a pool table—minus the balls.

“Pretty sure she keeps that freaking oversize fluorescent rabbit monstrosity just to annoy me…” Daniel mused with a smile.

Despite all these oddities, it was a stream both siblings had created together, which was their favorite spot - bubbled and gurgling a short walk from the cherry blossom tree.

Emily had based it on a story Sarah had once read to her, a fairy tale she was particularly fond of. Daniel chuckled as he sat by the bank, the memory of the stream’s creation playing in his mind. She’d originally wanted it to flow with orange juice. He’d protested, hard, eventually settling on sparkling water. Later, when she wasn’t paying attention, he’d quietly swapped it back to regular water.

She hadn’t noticed—at least, not yet, but he was sure she’d made her own sneaky edits.

Every so often, he’d hear the quack of a duck or see the flash of a brightly colored fish darting beneath the surface. His sister was anything but predictable after all.

—

Over the past few weeks and months, Daniel and Emily had learned more about the capabilities and limits of the dreamscape, each trip to this incredible dreamworld another chance to discover new wonders. They’d learned they could conjure nearly anything their minds imagined: fantastical castles, sprawling playgrounds, towering starships, even Daniel’s old apartment in his previous life and universe.

Sometimes, they relived memories—fragments from Emily’s life, trips to memorable cities, or experiences from Daniel’s world. Other times, their creativity took over, blending elements into something entirely new.

Daniel chuckled, remembering the snowball fight they’d staged inside a trampoline park, a laser tag game in a dreamscape version of Emily’s school, and the time they watched old movies from Daniel’s era in an absurdly massive theater—completely empty, of course.

“How does this stuff even work, Danny?” Emily had once asked, curiosity bubbling over. “Does it have something to do with us using more of our brains than normal people or something?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Daniel had admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “I think that might be part of it. Maybe some of it’s quantum in nature? Scientists in my universe speculated that observing something could change its reality. Maybe having two observers changes things in other ways?”

Emily had rolled her eyes, smirking. “Great. Nerd mode activated.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to nerd you out, Ms. Superhuman Calculator Brain,” Daniel remembered shooting back with a wry grin. “I forget you’ve got most of my knowledge now. You’re welcome, BTW.”

“Lucky me, Mr Internet Speak” she quipped, twirling a conjured twig between her fingers.

“But yeah,” Daniel continued, ignoring her jab. “Maybe it’s a combination of things—using more of the human brain than one consciousness normally could, or tapping into something science hasn’t figured out yet. What I do know - our subconscious minds do a LOT of heavy lifting here.”

“Eh? Like a background program or something?” Emily asked, leaning in slightly.

“Exactly. It is like we’re running parts of the program ourselves—moving our hands, interpreting sensations, deciding how things feel or weigh. What we believe to be true becomes true.”

Emily’s smirk widened. “Did you just rip off The Matrix?”

“First of all, that movie is a classic,” Daniel retorted, raising a finger in mock seriousness.

“Second, it hasn’t even been made in your bass-ackwards universe yet.”

“And third, I’m pretty sure The Matrix creatively borrowed from a dozen spiritual philosophies, so technically, no.”

“Uh-huh.” Emily’s grin turned mischievous as she gently air-punched Daniel. “Sounds like you ripped it off.”

“Anyway!” Daniel pressed on, unfazed. “Our subconscious minds handle the rest—the stuff we’re not actively thinking about. Like how your brain erases your nose from your field of vision or keeps track of your posture and balance. Now add two conscious minds running the system, and voilà—dreamscape.”

Emily picked up her twig again, twirling it absently as she mulled it over. “So our subconscious handles stuff like the time of day, where things should be, all that background stuff?”

Her eyes gleamed mischievously. “Including keeping track of all the beer you stash in your dreamscape apartment?”

“Hey, it’s not like I can get a buzz in here!” Daniel protested with a laugh. “But yeah... kind of like that. Background processes.”

He grew thoughtful for a moment, his tone shifting. “It’s probably also why we can’t really get hurt here. Our minds protect us. But...” He reached over and pinched Emily, earning a loud yelp and glare.

“HEY! I FELT THAT!” Emily yowled.

“Wait...” Her glare softened as she scratched her own head curiously. “Why did that hurt?”

“Exceptions, maybe?” Daniel offered, shrugging. “If we intentionally do something to each other, our active minds fill in the gaps. But I doubt the subconscious would let anything really dangerous happen. Like a failsafe.”

Emily studied him for a moment, clearly tempted to make a rude gesture, but instead, she stuck out her tongue. “Still didn’t have to pinch me, jerk.”

Daniel chuckled and leaned back, considering the mysteries of the magical world they’d created. Unable to resist, he added, “Eh... you kind of deserved it for all the teasing.”

Emily was quiet for a moment and then cautiously asked, “Danny, why are you... a guy?” Realizing how strange that sounded, she quickly added, “I mean, not that I mind having a big brother, but... without your own body... are you really... um...” She trailed off, unsure how to phrase it.

Daniel picked up on her intent through their shared bond and decided to put her at ease. “You’re asking if genders even matter when I’m basically energy, right? Yeah, I’ve thought about that too.”

Emily nodded, biting her lip. “It just... I dunno, it’s weird to think about.”

“It is weird,” Daniel admitted. “But here’s the thing: the soul, or consciousness—or whatever it is that makes us us—isn’t really tied to our outward gender. Even before I ended up here, scientists in my universe had started figuring out how complicated this stuff is. Genes turning on and off, influencing each other, environmental factors... You’ve probably seen those bits in my memories, haven’t you?”

Emily nodded again. “Yeah, I kinda remember that. So... what’s your point?”

Deep in thought, Daniel ‘borrowed’ Emily’s twig earning another glare and continued “I guess my point is, when you strip away the body, gender becomes more about how you see yourself. I’ve got memories of being a guy, and honestly, I liked it. That sense of identity sticks. So, when we’re in the dreamscape, I think I show up as a guy because it feels right to me. My body, my age, how I look... it’s partly based on my memories, but it’s also a reflection of how I feel and who I am.”

Emily tilted her head, her brow furrowing. “So, wait. Are you saying you look like this because it’s how you want to look?”

“Sort of,” Daniel replied. “It’s like the dreamscape adapts to whatever makes the most sense to me. I see myself as a guy, so I show up as one. And I look twenty-something because that reflects where I was mentally and emotionally when I ended up here. But yeah I’m basically energy. So is everything in the end.”

Understanding flickered in Emily’s expression, though her eyes narrowed mischievously. “So, theoretically, you could, like, turn into an agro teenage girl if you believed it enough?”

Daniel rolled his eyes, shaking his head as a smirk tugged at his lips. “Don’t get your hopes up, kid. One sassy sister is already more than enough for both of us. But yes, in theory, I could mask how I look—change my outward appearance. It’s not impossible.”

He paused, his expression growing thoughtful. “The problem is, it’d probably be pretty tiring and mess with how well we ‘work’ together. Kind of like slapping a Ferrari body on a Toyota engine—it’d run... but not well.”

Emily giggled, and before she could respond, Daniel reached over and gently tweaked her nose. “Besides,” he added with mock seriousness, “I don’t think we could handle two of you.”

—

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Daniel kneeled by the stream and gently swirled the water, feeling the cool liquid against his dreamworld skin as he watched his reflection ripple and shift. He remembered having his own body once, though the specifics of how he’d lived in it felt hazy—like echoes of childhood memories that refused to fully form.

He sighed, settling by the bank. “How do people even do it?” he wondered aloud. “How did I do it—being alone, having my own body?””

Solitude felt alien now, something he hadn’t anticipated after bonding with Emily.

Yet, sometimes he craved moments like this—a quiet space to sift through thoughts he was processing or not quite ready to share.

He sighed and lay down in the grass, staring up at the dreamscape sun. “The one place in the universe where I can look at the sun and not go blind,” he mused. The sky stretched endlessly above him, a gentle blue, clouds drifting lazily, . It was all perfect—yet then, deeper questions lingered.

Some days, questions about his origin in this universe gnawed at him.

How had he ended up here?

Why this family?

Why Emily?

Why him?

Most of the time, he could push them aside, burying them beneath the day-to-day rhythm of their shared life. But on days like this, the questions pressed harder, refusing to let go.

Frowning, he let his mind drift back to his last memories of his old life.

They felt distant now, like a hazy dream belonging to someone else. He recalled flashes: the heavy bass thumping from a car outside, an idiotic driver speeding down the road at two in the morning. The dull ache that seemed to live permanently in his body, the drink in his hand, and the pills he’d taken in a desperate bid for sleep. He’d turned off his phone to escape the endless barrage of work emails.

“Thank God smartphones haven’t been invented in this universe,” he thought with a rueful chuckle. Then, after a pause, he added, “Although, I wouldn’t mind being able to Google things once in a while. Having to go to the library for every little thing sucks…”

He turned his attention back to his original questions, recalling snippets of what he believed were conceivably his last moments in his original universe - the room spinning as the meds took effect, the last time his eyes closed in his original universe and body as sleep overtook him.

Then, there was lightness - followed by vague impressions of lights, flashes, the sensation of zipping through a void—like being hurled by a lightning bolt. He’d somehow felt more asleep and more awake than ever before. Then came the crash—a jarring, inexplicable, dramatic collision—and another flash before he woke up in Emily’s body.

That was the beginning. He and Emily had revisited those early days countless times, introspecting and reconstructing memories in the dreamscape. However, despite all their musings and investigations , they still didn’t know why or how he’d ended up here.

“Maybe I have a job to do?” he thought, staring at the sky. “Perhaps this is just another stage of evolution. Maybe I died, or my consciousness split, or I became energy…”

He groaned, wringing his hands. “Why do I keep doing this to myself? Heck with it!”

—

He grimaced for a moment, still uneasy about his first moments in this universe—when his consciousness had inadvertently suppressed Emily’s. He knew it wasn’t his choice or will that caused the accidental hijack, but it still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

A small smile tugged at his lips as his thoughts shifted to Sarah and Thomas. He remembered how they had treated him like their own child during those strange, early days.

Unaware that it wasn’t their daughter in control, they had still given Daniel a glimpse of what it meant to be part of a family. For the first time, he felt what it was like to be nurtured, cared for, and unconditionally accepted.

He recalled watching Thomas tinker in the garage, laughing as he gently tweaked ‘her’ nose—much as Daniel now did with Emily. He remembered Sarah reading stories to him in Emily’s body, teaching him how to dress, bake bread, finish homework, and so much more. Every moment was a taste of something he had longed for without realizing - to belong.

“You are my family in every way that matters,” Daniel muttered, his smile softening. “Even if it was for only a while, it felt good to be your child - m..”

The words trailed off, and he nearly finished the sentence with Mom and Dad. But he stopped himself—it felt too presumptuous. While he thought of them as his own kin, that title felt like something that needed to be earned. Especially now, given they were still reeling with the shock that a second consciousness inhabited their daughter’s body.

“Maybe one day…” he promised himself. “One day, perhaps I’ll earn the right to call you mom and dad again? Maybe one day you will see me as your own? Heck - maybe one day you will just see me..somehow?”

—

His smile widened as he thought of Emily—sweet, sassy, and vibrant Emily. They weren’t siblings by birth, but he saw her as his sister in every way that counted. The word host felt too sterile, too void of emotion or meaning.

“No,” he murmured to himself. “Even if I had my own body, I’d still care for her the same way.”

Emily had much since they bonded. She’d grown stronger, bolder, her personality blossoming in ways neither of them had expected. He still chuckled at the memory of her defending Lily from bullies—before she’d even been aware of his presence. “You accidentally channeled me that day,” he thought with a smirk, recalling how she’d called the bullies “troglodytes,” leaving everyone stunned.

“Ah, kid,” he thought, pride and wistfulness mingling within him. “You’re so strong. Far stronger than I ever was. Maybe one day you’ll see it like I do.”

Against all odds, Emily had accepted Daniel—this strange, second soul sharing her body. She could have rejected him, ignored him, suppressed him, buried him in the darkest recesses of her mind. She could have made his existence a living hell. But instead, she chose him. She embraced him as a sibling, the first to acknowledge their bond.

Even then - in spite of everything—Emily had found a way of making the mundane special. Somehow, she turned each day into a gift for both of them, filling their shared life with laughter, curiosity, playfulness and warmth.

“Maybe that’s why I’m here,” he mused aloud. “To make sure nothing happens to you. That you get a chance to stay the sweet, sassy girl you are. To help you through every challenge life throws your way.”

His determination solidified, and he added, “Well, kid, you’ve got it. As long as I live, you’ll have your grouchy, overly analytical, overprotective big bro watching your back.”

However, the thought of protection unearthed darker memories—buried fragments of his past that he worked hard to keep hidden. Memories of abandonment, chronic pain, anger, and desperation. He had built walls around those memories, locking them away in the farthest recesses and corners of his consciousness, but they still leaked through, especially in the early days of their merge. Emily had seen glimpses of them then, and the thought haunted him.

“I wish I could tell you about them,” he admitted silently. “But what if it’s too much? What if it turns into a memory dump?” The idea of Emily experiencing twenty-odd years of his pain and struggle made his stomach twist.

He stared at the sky, the dreamscape clouds above, and took a deep, determined breath.

“No,” he murmured, his gaze hardening. “Some secrets should stay secrets. My family, my past, my health, everything I went through—it all needs to stay buried...”

—

“Umph,” Daniel grunted as a faint discomfort stirred in his stomach. Just a touch.

He had learned to isolate Emily’s physical sensations most of the time, but the system wasn’t perfect. “She probably got smacked with that dodgeball,” he sighed. “I should check on her.”

He considered exiting the dreamscape then and there and returning to the proverbial real world.

“ Eh…she is a tough kid. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt” he decided, settling more comfortably into the lush grass with a contented sigh, continuing his thought process about their crazy, incredible joint existence.

—

When Emily needed privacy, he instinctively muted himself, retreating to the dreamscape—part asleep, part awake. She could also ask him to step back, like when she wanted to yammer with Lucy and Lily about some boy or other crush.

Over time, they had figured out how to share control in brief moments. Emily could relinquish the proverbial driver’s seat, letting him take the reins for a few seconds at a time. It was exhausting for both of them but sometimes necessary.

“Not like I want to be a body-jacker anyway,” Daniel muttered with a chuckle. He mostly stepped in for practical reasons, like when Emily outsourced her homework to him so she could play in the dreamscape. He didn’t mind—much.

What he hadn’t told her yet was that their connection worked both ways. Just as he could block sensations, he had recently discovered he could transfer them too.

It had happened by accident the first time: Emily had eaten too much ice cream, and her stomach was in agony. In a moment of empathy, Daniel had somehow taken the pain into his own consciousness.

He’d been flabbergasted—and deeply irritated. “Ms. Smartypants felt better, though,” he grumbled at the memory. “Promptly jumped out of bed and ran off for more ice cream.”

Daniel hadn’t mentioned this newfound ability to Emily yet. He needed to understand it better, test it a few more times. Was it a fluke? How much control did he really have? But one thing was certain: if Emily was in serious pain, he wouldn’t hesitate to step in for her.

“Maybe I’m here to help protect you in addition to guiding you?” he thought again, the words settled over him.

–

“Old man.” Emily loved teasing him with that phrase, and she’d been using it more often lately. Daniel huffed, his grumpiness only half-serious. Age shouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but still—mid-twenties wasn’t old. He had been barely a few years out of college, still figuring life out when everything had changed.

His brow furrowed as his thoughts turned inward. “Was I older? Was I younger? I don’t… quite remember,” he thought uneasily.

Some of his memories had grown blurry, the details muddied as if someone—or something—had deliberately clouded them - a type of forced amnesia.

Technical concepts, numbers, and skills? No problem. With Emily’s added cognitive horsepower, even complex ideas that once felt challenging now seemed like child’s play.

Other questions, like how old he’d been, slipped through his grasp. It was as though those answers were hidden behind a purposeful fog, gnawing at him.

Since bonding with Emily, he’d noticed subtle changes within himself. Over the past year—or however long it had been—his personality had shifted. Impulse control felt different, less steady. Things that shouldn’t bother him occasionally did, while problems that once seemed monumental now felt trivial. He’d chalked it up to healing, some strange effect of sharing consciousness with Emily. But there were moments—fleeting but unmistakable—when he felt younger than he imagined he should. Much younger.

Sometimes, he found himself faking the confidence of an adult who had figured out his place in the world. It wasn’t something he’d shared with Emily—not because he wanted to keep secrets from her, but because he needed to figure it out on his own first.

“I wonder…” Daniel mused, his thoughts spiraling deeper. “If there’s a consequence to bonding with a child. If Emily can gain my memories, my knowledge, am I gaining something from her? Or perhaps…losing something?”

He sighed, leaning back as he tried to shake the strange feeling. “Ah, this isn’t Fullmetal Alchemist. Equivalent exchange, my a—”

A sudden thump against his chest cut him off mid-thought making him blinkin surprise.

“For the love of!” he sighed, running a hand over his chest. “Em, you making yourself a target?”

Shaking his head, he got to his feet, stretching slightly. “As much as you tease me, it’s easier having a second set of eyes watching your back, isn’t it?”

—

As Daniel stood up and prepared to exit the dreamscape, a recent discovery flickered through his mind, sending a shiver down his spine. It was the one link in their connection that could be fatal—to him.

It had happened by accident. Emily had scraped her knee after falling off her bike, her cries sharp and piercing. This was shortly after she had accepted him as her brother, and his overprotectiveness was at an all-time high. An overwhelming instinct surged through him—a desperate need to help, to fix the problem. He focused all his intention on her pain, and then - then something miraculous and frightening happened.

He gasped as he felt something shift inside him—a piece of what made him- ‘him- breaking free, changing, and flowing into Emily. Weakness slammed into him like a tsunami. His vision blurred, his connection to Emily wavered, and for a moment, it felt as though he were gasping for air, even though neither he—nor Emily—actually was.

But what happened next was even stranger. Emily’s cries softened, her pain dissipating far faster than it should have. By the end of the day, the scrape had vanished entirely. What should have scarred didn’t even leave a mark.

It wasn’t until the following day that Daniel understood the cost. He had given her something—not just a transfer of pain, but something deeper. Something vital. “I’m basically energy, right? And energy can change form. What if I used part of mine, my essence, to help her heal?” he had thought to himself, the implications shaking him to his core.

The memory made him shudder. He had spent weeks afterward understanding the limits of this accidental discovery, cautiously probing its mechanics while staying one step away from triggering another essence transfer. The conclusion was always the same: it was powerful for Emily but dangerous—lethal—for him.

A small injury like her scraped knee had drained him for hours, though he feigned simple exhaustion to keep her from asking questions. A larger wound—or something more serious—could leave him completely empty, extinguish him, and burn him out of existence.

Since that day, he had been exceptionally careful, ensuring no unintentional transfers occurred even though the possibility existed. He named this process ‘life force transfer’ - a term he found heavy, fitting and final.

“Well, at least if she ever gets seriously hurt, there’s a failsafe… me,” he thought grimly. “She’d never let me use this if she knew what it did, though. So I’m going to keep my mouth shut, but kid if something happens to you - I will burn every last part myself to make sure you are okay”

Thankfully, the connection seemed one-way—probably because Emily’s body and soul were naturally her own, whereas he was a guest of sorts. That small mercy gave him a sliver of reassurance, though the weight of the secret remained heavy.

—

But as he stared at the fading colors of the dreamscape, another realization crept in, quieter but no less troubling. He was keeping far more secrets than Emily than he had expected.

Facets of his old life, his family and why he never spoke about them, the pain transfer, the lifeforce transfer, the changes he’d noticed in himself, blurred memories, the growing sense that something fundamental was shifting inside him - the secrets were adding up.

After he had promised to not keep things from her.

“I just can’t tell her some stuff yet - not till I figure it out. And some stuff - can never be shared no matter how angry she gets” he thought with both determination and sadness.

He sighed deeply, shaking himself out of his introspection.

“Hell, kid, I’m figuring this out too…” he murmured softly, his voice filled with quiet resolve. “But if something ever puts you… or our parents… in danger—I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. No hesitation.”

The dreamscape began to dissolve around him, the meadow slowly fading and blurring. As he stood on the precipice of waking, his thoughts lingered on the family he had grown to love—the second chance he never thought he’d have.

“You gave me hope,” he whispered into the void. “Something to look forward to. Something to cherish. A family. A second chance.”

He paused, his chest tightening as the last remnants of the dreamscape faded into darkness.

“One day,” he promised, his voice steady but tinged with bittersweet determination.

“I’ll return the favor.”