Atiste returned to his studio, eager to examine the document.
“Soul Swap Art”
Author: Anonymous
Preface—
I do not know who I am.
As I hold this pen, I sit in an unknown place; these hands are not my own, this body is not my own, and this pen is not my own.
The face in the mirror is not mine.
Yet, I have resided in this body for seven years.
It still feels like a stranger.
It is because I have swapped souls too many times that I have forgotten myself.
The first swap was to extend my life.
My original body was weak and nearing death, so I sought one that was young, healthy, and whose soul had dissipated.
I succeeded, but my soul was damaged; I lost some memories and forgot who I was.
However, the method of the soul swap remained clear, leading to a second, third, fourth, fifth… and to this day, I have swapped thirty-seven times.
Who was the original me?
I have already forgotten.
My appearance, my name, my origin, my experiences; I cannot recall any of them.
Whom did I love?
Whom did I hate?
I cannot remember those either.
I have inhabited too many bodies, and I no longer know which memories truly belong to me.
I leave this record not to teach the method of soul swapping.
It is merely to leave a trace of my existence and the price of wielding this technique.
The reader must be looking for “another way of living.”
If so, read on—
Part One: The Nature of the Soul—
Before learning the method of soul swapping, one must first understand: “What is being swapped?”
I speak to the reader from experience:
The soul is not an abstract thing; it is neither light nor mist, and it cannot be seen, touched, or measured.
The soul is a “trace.”
Everything you eat, where you walk, what you say, whom you love, whom you hate, how you laugh, how you cry, and what you feel leaves a trace within your body.
These traces overlap and weave together to form a network.
This network is your soul.
Why is it that someone might be dead, yet you still feel they are “alive”?
Because their traces still linger in your heart.
Why is it that someone might be alive, yet you feel they are “dead”?
Because their traces have vanished and no longer exist in anyone’s heart.
Therefore, the essence of a soul swap is extracting your “network” from your vessel, extracting the other’s “network” from their vessel, placing your “network” into their vessel, and theirs into yours.
Does it seem simple?
It is not so in reality.
I shall share my experiences from my first seven failures—
Some had their souls extracted halfway, becoming stuck mid-air; half remained in the original body while the other half drifted in the void, both sides screaming incessantly.
Some had their souls enter the target vessel only to be rejected; the soul began to rot within a day, and after three days, the vessel became an empty husk.
There were two souls who swapped, fell in love with each other, and merged into one; they became monsters without a self, and their vessels fused together in a twisted heap…
Only after failing seven times did I dare to attempt this method myself.
Although I succeeded, my soul was damaged, and a part of me “died.”
Part Two: Scope of Application—
This art applies to any sentient life form.
Including:
Humans, Elves, Orcs, Dwarves, Dragons, the Demon Race, and Demi-humans.
Excluding:
Those who have been dead for more than 12 hours, the dying, the insane, newborns, and animals.
Prerequisites:
- Both parties must be willing and have no regrets;
- Life forces must be equivalent;
- Both must “become each other” for 7 days in advance;
- For 3 days before the ritual, both must consume the other’s “mark.”
Part Three: Ritual Method—
This section is blank, the text faint and shimmering.
Atiste immediately recognizes it as a simple diversionary spell, but it requires special materials to dispel.
He skips it for now.
Part Four: Magic Circle Composition—
As above, he must skip this for now.
Part Five: Runes and Incantations—
As above, he must skip this as well.
Part Six: Failure Cases—
Type One: The soul gets stuck halfway.
Both scream in agony; the result is that neither returns to their original body, forever trapped in a state of separation.
Type Two: Entering the wrong vessel.
Both souls successfully exit, but Party A enters their own body while Party B enters their own.
Both believe the swap succeeded, only to fall into a state of cognitive confusion—”Am I them or are they me?”—unable to revert, never knowing who the “original self” was.
Type Three: Souls fuse and cannot be separated.
Unlike the case of falling in love, this type of fusion doesn’t even enter a vessel; the souls repel each other after merging and refuse to inhabit the targets, eventually fading away over time.
Type Four: Being sucked away by the moon.
On a night of a total lunar eclipse, the power of the moon is too strong, and the soul is pulled away.
Type Five: Being consumed by the magic circle.
The circle is drawn incorrectly, and the soul is sucked into it, never to escape.
Type Six: Soul fragmentation.
Excessive force during extraction causes the soul to shatter.
Type Seven: Being rejected by the new vessel.
One party succeeds, but the other is expelled by the vessel and dissolves; soon after, the one who succeeded also dissolves…
I can no longer write of further failures, for I have swapped too many times; I cannot recall who is who, or which face belongs to whom, nor can I connect them.
Some who were originally human are no longer human.
Epilogue—
Writing this far, I have no strength left, and my hand trembles.
It is not that I am afraid.
It is that I have forgotten where I was writing.
When I wrote of “souls getting stuck,” I suddenly could not remember—was that me? Or someone I witnessed?
I look back at the preface and see I wrote: “Swapped thirty-seven times.”
Is it really that many?
No, that seems too few?
Thirty-seven times?
Then who am I?
Am I the person from the beginning?
Or am I the thirty-seventh one?
I do not know.
I only know that I am the author of this art.
There were only three reasons to record it:
First, to leave a trace of myself;
Second, to record this technique;
Third, to document the cost of this technique.
But the more I write, the more useless it feels, for I no longer know “who” is recording this.
If you have read this far and still wish to use this art, I can only wish you luck.
You are braver than I.
The handwriting begins to slant here.
Atiste guesses the author must have sensed something.
I hear footsteps.
Who is approaching?
This secret chamber should be known to no one.
I do not know who it is.
They are approaching.
Perhaps they do not want this technique?
I must tuck this document into my tunic; if they find it, let them have it!
I no longer need this art!
Remember!
The soul can be swapped countless times, but you are only yourself once!
What follows is an extremely long ink smudge, as if drawn deliberately, dragging all the way to the end of the page.
Atiste checks the final page of the document.
It reads:
“I have mastered this art and am preparing to find some vessels to test it.”
Having finished the document, Atiste’s assessment is:
“What kind of garbage is this? The crucial parts are nowhere to be seen, yet there is plenty of nonsense written.”
Moreover, looking at the situation with Lillian and Eileen, they are both definitely willing to swap souls, so the first condition is satisfied.
But the current Lillian cannot even be considered a “living creature”; she is just a vessel, a dead thing, and her soul can no longer be considered her original soul.
The moment she was reborn, she was reshaped by Atiste into an “Art Piece.”
But for now, there is no better way to swap them back.
It seems he must go find the materials, learn the specific operations, and then improve upon them.
As long as the method exists, improving such things is a piece of cake for Atiste.
This, too, can be considered creating art.