I Am Not Dead
A shiver ran down his spine as the words escaped his lips.
"I am not dead."
The voice echoed back at him, not from the trees or the wind, but from within. A voice that was his yet… not his alone.
Rain poured relentlessly through the thick canopy, drumming against the muddy forest floor. The scent of damp earth and decaying leaves filled the air, mixing with something more metallic—the scent of blood. He lay there, half-submerged in the cold embrace of the mud, his body aching, yet something was different. Something was wrong.
He pushed himself up, gasping. The sensation of movement wasn't entirely his own. His fingers curled, his chest rose with breath, but it was as if another force—another presence—moved alongside him.
"So that means… I can live again."
The words left his mouth, laced with a. Was this a dream? A nightmare? He couldn't tell.
"What will I do now?" The voice came again, this time distant—disconnected—as if spoken by his own body, but not by him.
His breath hitched.
It was then that he realized—he was not alone in his own flesh.
Two minds. One body. One fate.
The rain continued to fall, washing away the past and heralding something new. Something neither of them could yet understand.
Two Minds, One Body
"Hey! You who want to live again. Where am I?"
The voice rang out, raw with confusion. The man—whoever he was now—glanced down at his own hands, flexing his fingers experimentally. The cold rain pattered against his skin, but something was off. The pain… the pain was gone.
"You are in my body—ahh… I mean, I am in your body now." The response came, hesitant, spoken not aloud but in the depths of his mind. "Wait… where am I even?"
The new owner of the body froze. His hands moved instinctively to his stomach, where—just moments ago, he was sure—a blade had torn through his flesh. There was nothing. No wound. No blood. Only the faint memory of pain.
He turned sharply, scanning his surroundings. A dense forest, loomed around him. Heavy droplets dripped from the branches above, soaking his already damp clothes. His gaze finally dropped to himself—dark, regal armor clung to his frame, layered with intricate gold accents. His fingers traced the fine engravings, admiring the craftsmanship.
"Is this… a cosplay?" he muttered, half in disbelief, half in amusement.
A scoff echoed in his mind. "That is my royal armor."
The body owner blinked. "Royal?" His dull expression didn't change as he took another long look at his surroundings. The weight of the armor was unfamiliar, yet it settled on his shoulders as if it had always been his.
Inside his mind, the voice—this prince—stirred. I can't move… but I can sense his emotions. Can he sense mine? Should I ask him directly?
The body owner smirked. "For your kind information, mister, I can hear you clearly."
His lips moved, but the words didn't feel entirely his. They were his voice, yet the conversation was something stranger.
A beat of silence.
"Can he hear my thoughts?" the prince mused.
"And you can feel my emotions," the body owner continued, his tone laced with curiosity. "Are you able to read my thoughts too, mister?"
The prince focused, trying to push deeper into the body owner's mind, to hear his thoughts as clearly as his own. But all he could grasp were emotions—waves of curiosity, unease, and something more elusive, like the edges of a thought slipping through his fingers.
"I can understand you," the prince admitted, his voice confined to their shared consciousness. "But I can't read your thoughts."
A sudden, overwhelming urge gripped him—a deep, pressing need to know where they were.
Is he trying to push his feelings onto me to indirectly ask where we are? the prince wondered.
"Yes," the body owner responded without hesitation.
The prince's surprise lingered only for a moment before he shifted his focus. "From the surroundings, I can't tell where we are. Can you move and find something recognizable? I can't control this body."
The body owner glanced around again, his gaze sweeping over the darkened forest. The thick trees stretched endlessly in every direction, their gnarled branches clawing at the rain-soaked sky. There were no paths, no signs of civilization—only nature, wild and untamed.
"I'll try to find something relatable," he said at last.
With that, he took a step forward, his armor shifting with the movement. The weight was foreign yet familiar, as if it had belonged to someone else but now molded itself to him. He moved cautiously, eyes scanning for any sign of familiarity, any landmark that might reveal where they were.
As he walked, a thought formed in his mind—a question lingering just beneath his growing awareness. He let the feeling surge, amplifying it so the prince could sense it. "You thought before that this was a memory," he said slowly. "Was this body yours before… and now it's mine?"
A heavy silence followed.
Then, the prince answered, his voice laced with sorrow.
"Yes."
The weight of that single word hung between them.
And for the first time since waking in this new body, the owner truly Felt his presence inside his body.