Dimensional Hotel

Morning sunlight streamed into the attic, bathing it in a warm, golden glow and gradually pushing away the lingering shadows of the night. Beyond the small window, the city was coming to life. Cars rumbled along the streets far below, and people began their daily bustle. Even the birds perched on nearby rooftops greeted the morning with a chorus of cheerful chirps.

Yet none of this distracted Yu Sheng from his work.

He was focused on the doll head he was sculpting out of clay—unfinished, still a bit misshapen, but firm enough to carve. Carefully, he used a thin knitting needle to mark out the eyes and nose. It was tricky, and he had redone some parts more than once. At last, before the clay could harden completely, he arrived at a result he could live with. Though it was far from perfect, at least Irene wouldn’t laugh at it for being hideous. He could only hope this little doll wouldn’t start crying once it came to life in this body.

He cracked a small smile, glancing at the row of candles flickering on his desk. They had melted down to about half their original size.

“Looks like I won’t finish the face before the candles burn out,” he muttered. Just getting this far with the body parts felt like an achievement in itself.

He wasn’t upset about it. This was only practice, a rehearsal for the next proper body he planned to make for Irene. Going through all the steps several times would only improve his skills. As for adding the doll’s “makeup,” he figured Irene could always change the features as she pleased once her soul settled inside.

With a sigh, Yu Sheng picked up the newly completed torso and placed it in the center of the alchemy array drawn on his desk. He wanted to perform the entire ritual, even without Irene present, just to get a feel for the real process.

But as soon as he set the torso down, he paused. The clay almost felt… springy. Was it his imagination, or did it carry a strange warmth, like it was alive?

Frowning, he leaned in and touched the surface. It was cool, just like ordinary clay. Perhaps his lack of sleep was making him see things. Brushing off his doubts, he went on, carefully attaching the limbs with small pieces of softened clay and water. Nothing out of the ordinary happened.

When the doll was finally assembled, it lay there—a crude little figure—right at the center of the alchemy circle, ringed by candles. Irene’s painting, which would normally act as the doll’s “soul,” was the only thing missing. Yu Sheng studied the unfinished figure. For a split second, he thought he saw it move, like a subtle flicker or a trick of his eyes. He blinked.

Then he saw it again. The doll’s chest rose and fell, very faintly.

The motion was slight, but unmistakable. It looked like something in there was breathing, asleep and not yet conscious—but alive.

Yu Sheng’s eyes widened in shock. For a moment, he froze. Then he snapped back to his senses and leaned closer, pressing a hand to the doll’s chest. “Hey, wake up. Are you really… alive?”

The doll made no reply, though it continued that soft, rhythmic breathing. It was as if it was only a shell, waiting for something—or someone—to guide it. Yu Sheng gulped, shook his head to clear it, then turned toward the staircase and shouted, “Irene! Irene, are you awake? Come up here, I’ve got something—”

His words died on his lips. Something stirred in the corner of his vision.

The moment he said Irene’s name, the doll changed. It was like an invisible trigger had been pulled, completing the final step of the ritual. The little figure tensed, and its clay limbs shifted from a dull grey to a pale, lifelike tone. Smooth hair sprouted, framing a gradually forming face. Clothes appeared around the doll’s body—the same black dress Irene always wore. In the blink of an eye, the doll was no longer just clay. Irene was lying on the desk, her eyes slowly fluttering open.

Yu Sheng stood there, mouth agape. A heartbeat later, this newly formed Irene shook off her initial confusion and sat up. She turned to Yu Sheng, clearly annoyed.

“Why are you yelling? I was asleep, and you just—” She stopped abruptly, frowning as though something was terribly off. She turned her head, her neck moving stiffly, and looked around with obvious confusion.

“Wait, where am I? I thought I was in the bedroom, but… this body feels weird. My head is spinning.” She made a clumsy attempt to stand, only to lose her balance and topple sideways off the desk. “Hey—I can’t keep my balance! I’m seeing double! Everything’s so dizzy… Help me!”

Yu Sheng moved quickly, catching the doll before she hit the floor. He was about to breathe a sigh of relief when a loud bang resounded from downstairs.

Two voices called out at the same time, both sounding exactly like Irene’s. “Oh my god!”

He heard one voice clearly, from the Irene in his arms, and another, more distant, from somewhere below.

The doll Irene looked up at him, alarmed. “Yu Sheng, what’s going on? Why do I have two fields of vision? I’m seeing two places at once. Why am I… in two bodies?!” Ŕ

Yu Sheng’s mind whirled. He had never even dreamed of such a scenario, but he had a good idea of what must have happened. He bounded down the attic steps, the doll Irene tucked protectively against him. Taking the stairs two at a time, he hurried to the second floor and dashed straight into his bedroom.

The doll in his arms clung to him for dear life.

Bursting through the door, Yu Sheng found the original Irene standing by the bedside table, looking just as unsteady. She stared at him when he came in.

The two Irenes gazed at each other. “Whoa!” they both exclaimed in perfect unison.

“I have two bodies!” they said together again, still completely synchronized.

Yu Sheng felt a pounding in his temples. Glancing back and forth between the identical Irenes, he finally managed, “Irene? Are you really both… you?”

“Yes,” they answered in one voice.

“No, I mean… is it just one mind inside two bodies, or… are there two different Irenes now?” He wasn’t quite sure how else to put it.

“Just one mind,” the Irenes said. But then the doll Irene clamped her mouth shut, and the Irene standing by the bed went on, pointing to herself. “It’s still just me, but suddenly I’m in two bodies.”

She released her grip on the bedside table, wobbling for a moment before steadying herself. “Ugh, this is awful. It felt like I woke up in the attic but also in the bedroom at the same time—two sets of eyes, two sets of everything. I tried to stand, but I ended up falling off both the bed and the desk. Thank goodness you caught one of me…”

She turned her frustrated gaze on Yu Sheng. “Would you mind explaining why I suddenly have two bodies? And how I ended up in both at once?”

Yu Sheng’s cheeks began to burn. He had run down here in such a hurry that he hadn’t thought through his explanation. “Well,” he stammered, “what if I told you the attic was so damp that it… sprouted another doll?”

Irene blinked at him. “Really?”

Yu Sheng almost choked. “You actually believe—no, wait, never mind.”

The doll Irene’s startled expression made him feel guilty for even thinking up such a silly excuse. Setting her gently on the bed, he faced both versions of Irene and took a deep breath.

“Alright, here’s the truth,” he said, speaking carefully. “I couldn’t sleep last night, so I started messing around with the techniques we’ve been studying. I decided to try making a backup body, just in case. It was only meant for practice—something to help me run through the whole process. I never thought it would actually work on its own.”

He went on to describe how he had sculpted the clay, added the limbs, prepared the ritual, and pictured it simply as a way to improve before creating the ‘real’ replacement body for her. He recounted every thought that had gone through his mind along the way.

Both Irenes listened, their faces reflecting disbelief, shock, and, finally, exasperation. They looked at him with identical grimaces.

“Yu Sheng, you idiot!” they shouted together.

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