The 28th day of Verdantus had passed in the other world. A few days remained before the summer season began. Around Orshek, life was full of motion — people working tirelessly after the harvest.
We built a new granary to protect our food reserves from the climate, but it wasn't enough. We needed a bigger one, stronger and safer. Alongside it rose the framework of a multi-story house, meant to keep the witches safe together.
A large oven, several cement kilns, and massive blacksmith furnaces were also being built. The people had to work in shifts — some gathering resources, others ploughing and sowing for the summer crops.
Natalia had already prepared her magic seeds, shimmering faintly with her enchantment. Meanwhile, she spent her days with Gethrod, Orshek's apothecary, learning about plants and herbs. The two worked in harmony, improving each formula, each salve.
Watching them made me realize how far we had come.
Hours slipped by as I sat before my computer, drafting construction plans and updating blueprints. Then a quiet thought crept in — I've been spending so much time here… I almost forgot the real world exists.
At some point, I must have fallen asleep.
When I opened my eyes again, it was Sunday morning.
I blinked at the sunlight through my window. My computer screen still glowed faintly with the map of Orshek. After a quick shower, I decided to take a walk and clear my mind.
Just as I grabbed my phone, it began to ring.
It was Mason, my old friend. His voice came sharp with disappointment.
"You forgot my birthday, Allen. Not even a call. Don't bother next time."
I sighed. "I'm sorry, Mason. Been under heavy workload lately."
There was a pause, then a softer tone. "Then make it up to me. Come over for dinner tonight."
"Alright," I replied. "I'll be there."
That afternoon, I caught up on minor tasks, but my mind kept drifting — to Orshek, to Natalia, to blueprints and magic seeds. By evening, I drove to Mason's house.
His kids ran to greet me, laughter echoing through the hallway. His wife smiled warmly and served dinner — roasted chicken, salad, and the kind of bread I hadn't tasted in months. The smell felt almost nostalgic.
We spent the evening in sweet conversation. Mason's wife invited me to their family function next week, teasing that maybe I'd meet someone special.
Her words made me pause. My thoughts drifted to Natalia — her calm eyes, her quiet strength.Would this count as cheating? I wondered silently.
After dinner, Mason and I sat on the porch, drinking beer under the soft glow of streetlights.
He studied me for a long moment. "Allen… you've changed."
I looked at him, pretending to smile. "What do you mean?"
"It's like you're somewhere else, even when you're here. Always thinking, always distant. It's only been a few weeks, but… something's different."
I took a slow sip. "Nothing's wrong. Just… work stress, maybe."
He didn't seem convinced but smiled anyway. "You need to get out, man. Find some adventure. How about dirt biking with the old group? You used to hate it, but maybe you'll like it now."
I chuckled softly. "Sure, Mason. Why not?"
He laughed. "That's the spirit."
For the first time in weeks, I felt lighter — like the weight of two worlds had eased a little.
That night, I returned home and fell asleep early. Monday came, and I went to office, trying not to think about Orshek or Leonard. I buried myself in reports and presentations, pretending the other world didn't exist.
But every evening, after work, I still opened the computer — telling myself I'd just spend one hour on the plans.
Days passed like this. The distance between worlds began to blur.
Two weeks later, Mason called again. "The dirt biking trip's ready. The old gang's in. We'll go next week."
"I'll be there," I said.
That night, after the call ended, I looked at my computer screen — the map of Orshek glimmering faintly in the dark room. My heart beat faster.
I sat down, adjusted my headset, and activated the transmigration link.
A flash of light. A cold rush through my veins.
And then — silence.
When I opened my eyes, I was Leonard again.
The air smelled of earth and smoke from the furnaces. Workers shouted orders, carts rattled down the streets, and the unfinished granary towered above the fields. I flexed my fingers — they felt familiar, strong, real.
The world welcomed me back like I had never left.
Two lives. Two realities.
And somewhere between them, I was slowly forgetting which one was truly home.