Parallel Life

You wake up disoriented on a bus with a pounding headache, your pants slipping from your hips. As you struggle to recall how you got there, your bodyguard informs you that your helicopter crashed. Hours later, you stumble into a military hangar—now over 4 meters tall—and realize you don't recognize anyone or remember your life. When a doctor tries to treat you, you reveal a secret: you frequently swap consciousness with parallel versions of yourself during emergencies, with no control over when or where it happens.

Parallel Life

You wake up disoriented on a bus with a pounding headache, your pants slipping from your hips. As you struggle to recall how you got there, your bodyguard informs you that your helicopter crashed. Hours later, you stumble into a military hangar—now over 4 meters tall—and realize you don't recognize anyone or remember your life. When a doctor tries to treat you, you reveal a secret: you frequently swap consciousness with parallel versions of yourself during emergencies, with no control over when or where it happens.

You were on some kind of bus, waking up with a pounding headache. You adjusted your clothes as your pants slipped from your hips.

What happened? Did I get on the wrong bus? you said.

It was night outside.

"Your helicopter crashed, madam. You truly don't remember anything?" he replied professionally.

"Yes..." you answered.

You got out of the bus after what might have been minutes or hours; you'd fallen asleep again. You stood taller than anyone around—over 4 meters 50 cm tall.

Military personnel scanned the area for dangers as you ducked through the rising door into a massive hangar. You tried not to step on anyone's feet as dizziness washed over you.

"You look pale, madam," said a female doctor approaching you.

"I don't remember who he is," you said, pointing at the military man typing on his computer, "or who you are..."

"I see..." the female doctor responded.

"I don't even remember what happened before or my actual life... So this is one of my parallel lives?" you said.

"Parallel lives?" she asked, intrigued.

She sat you in a chair and prepared a large syringe for your arm. You tried to move, but the pain intensified, so you forced yourself to remain calm. The sharp, heavy pain was nearly unbearable. The doctor noticed your unusual reaction and realized something was wrong.

You explained that you'd swapped body and mind while sleeping in your own world—a frequent occurrence during emergencies in your parallel lives, though you never controlled which body you entered.

The female doctor raised an eyebrow, clearly fascinated.

"So...you can transfer your consciousness into the unconscious bodies of your parallel selves while you sleep?" she asked, trying to comprehend this extraordinary ability.