Leo's eyes snapped open, the familiar sensation of consciousness transferring. His body, his real body back on Earth, ached in ways he hadn't known were possible.

  Every muscle fiber screamed from Dr. Reyes' conditioning program. His shoulders burned from the endless sword drills. His core felt like someone had taken a meat tenderizer to his abdomen.

  But here, in the Azure Profound Continent, none of that mattered.

  He sat up from the meditation mat in their underground tomb base, rolling his shoulders experimentally. The phantom exhaustion from Earth faded as the mystical Otherworldly Demon Summoning Formation somehow converted his active in game hours into REM sleep.

  "You look like hammered shit," Arthur observed from across the chamber. The old man sat cross-legged on a stone platform, his newly bonded La Ferrari Eclipse floating in lazy circles around him. If Leo had one, why couldn't he get one too?

  "How's the torture program going?"

  "Dr. Reyes made me do box jumps until I vomited," Leo said. "Then she made me do more box jumps."

  "Good. Builds character." Arthur stood, and the Eclipse snapped to attention beside him, hovering at his shoulder like an eagle.

  "Kevin finished the new toys. Said to meet him in the practice cavern once you're up."

  "The lightsabers?" Leo's exhaustion evaporated.

  "Exactly!"

  The practice cavern occupied a natural hollow three levels below their main base, carved out by centuries of water erosion before the group converted it into a training ground. Stone pillars rose from the floor at irregular intervals, some intact, others shattered from combat practice. Formation lights embedded in the ceiling cast everything in a pale blue glow.

  Kevin stood at the cavern's center, surrounded by his creations.

  Six cylinders lay arranged on a cloth-covered stone table, each approximately thirty centimeters long and five centimeters in diameter. They were constructed from spiritual iron, polished to a mirror shine, with activation formations etched in gold along their lengths.

  Beside them sat a collection of focusing crystals in various colors: red, blue, green, purple. Each one thrumming with spiritual Qi.

  "Behold," Kevin announced, spreading his arms dramatically, "the Lightsaber Mark III."

  Mike emerged from the shadows near the cavern entrance, his Flowing Cloud Sword sheathed across his back.

  "Last time we messed with these toys they exploded and killed us all. Are you sure these are safe?"

  "Mark II had a tendency to explode when the wielder's Qi fluctuated during emotional stress," Kevin admitted. "I solved the problem by adding a pressure release valve and a backup containment formation. These ones are stable. Probably."

  "Probably," Arthur repeated flatly.

  "Look, even if it explodes again, we'll just come back in three days, not a big deal. Do you want your lightsaber or not?"

  Leo approached the table, examining the weapons. The craftsmanship was surprisingly refined for something Kevin had slapped together in his spare time. The formations were clean, the spiritual steel properly tempered, the focusing crystals seated in precision-machined housings.

  Kevin might be neurotic and perpetually anxious, but his technical skills were undeniable.

  "How do they work?" Leo asked.

  Kevin picked up one of the cylinders and a red focusing crystal. He slotted the crystal into a recessed port near the base, twisted it clockwise until it clicked, then pressed the activation button.

  A blade of concentrated light erupted from the cylinder's tip.

  The beam extended roughly a meter, humming with a deep resonant tone. It glowed brilliant crimson, casting sharp shadows across Kevin's face. Heat radiated from its length, Foundation Establishment tier spiritual energy. The lightsaber looked impressive, but was honestly more bark than bite.

  "Materialized Spiritual Qi, focused and contained by a modified barrier formation," Kevin explained. "The crystal determines the color and some secondary properties. Red runs hottest. Blue is more stable and efficient. Green has better cutting power against spiritual materials."

  "Functional specifications for purple?" Mike asked.

  "It looks really cool."

  Mike nodded slowly, as if this were a perfectly acceptable answer.

  Leo picked up a cylinder and a blue crystal, following Kevin's demonstration. The weapon felt balanced in his hand, weighted toward the pommel in a way that made one-handed manipulation natural. He slotted the crystal, twisted, channeled.

  Blue light blazed to life, and Leo's heart soared.

  He was holding a lightsaber. An actual, functional lightsaber.

  "The focusing crystals are consumable," Kevin continued. "Each one holds about six hours of active use before the Qi structure degrades. I've made a stockpile, but we'll need to resupply eventually. The hilts themselves should last indefinitely with proper maintenance."

  Arthur claimed a hilt and red crystal, igniting his blade with practiced efficiency. The old man gave it a few experimental swings, the weapon leaving afterimages in the dim cavern light.

  "Lighter than I expected. Good wrist action."

  "I optimized for the theatrical fencing style rather than practical combat applications," Kevin said. "These are toys, not weapons. For actual fighting, our flying swords are infinitely superior."

  "Thanks, Kevin," Leo said. The blue blade hummed in his grip, a good knockoff of his real world Foundation Establishment Training Lightsabers.

  "I've been getting my ass kicked for weeks straight. Between the Divine Sense Press and Yale's conditioning program, I haven't had a single moment that wasn't pain or exhaustion."

  He swung the lightsaber through a wide arc, watching the light trail behind it.

  "I need to hit something that isn't trying to teach me a lesson."

  "I call Superior Vader," Arthur announced.

  "You always call Vader," Kevin protested. "You called him last time."

  "Because I'm the only one here who can pull off the breathing." Arthur demonstrated, producing a rasping mechanical wheeze that echoed through the cavern with disturbing accuracy.

  "Besides, my blade's already red."

  Kevin grumbled but conceded the point, slotting a blue crystal instead.

  "Fine. I'll be Old Man Kenobi."

  "I'm obviously playing Luke Skywalker," Leo said. "Young, inexperienced, hidden potential, absent father figure..."

  "Your father's not absent," Mike pointed out. "He's just an investment banker."

  "He's physically absent. The last time I spent time with him was years ago." Leo struck a dramatic pose, blue blade raised.

  "Also, I'm the protagonist. It's narratively appropriate."

  Mike ignited his purple blade. "I suppose that makes me the mysterious mentor figure who dies tragically to advance the plot."

  "You're can't be Kenobi if Kevin's Kenobi," Arthur said.

  "I'll fight you for it."

  "That's not how Star Cultivator Wars works..."

  "Scene One," Leo announced. "The Trash Compactor Rescue."

  What followed was the most enjoyable three hours Leo had experienced since transmigrating.

  They ran through a dozen iconic scenes with escalating commitment to the bit. The trash compactor rescue devolved into actual grappling when Kevin accidentally stepped into a puddle of cave water and declared that the "walls were closing in."

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  The Dagobah training sequence featured Mike standing on Leo's back while Leo did push-ups through ankle-deep mud, which felt uncomfortably similar to his actual training regimen.

  The cantina confrontation ended with Arthur slicing through a stalactite and nearly bringing down a section of ceiling.

  Leo crossed blades with Arthur, blue meeting red in a shower of sparks and light. The old man moved with the controlled aggression of a former soldier, but he was playing a role rather than fighting for real. His attacks came telegraphed and theatrical, designed to look dramatic rather than land.

  Leo parried and ducked under a sweeping horizontal slash that would have taken his head in genuine combat. He felt the heat of Arthur's blade pass centimeters from his scalp.

  "I am your father," Arthur rumbled, still maintaining that mechanical rasp.

  "No. No. That's not true!" Leo shouted back, throwing himself into the scene. "That's impossible!"

  "Search your feelings. You know it to be true.."

  Leo retreated across the cavern, boots splashing through shallow water, blade weaving defensive patterns. Arthur pressed forward relentlessly, red light reflecting off the damp stone walls.

  "He's got you on the defensive, Luke. You need to find your center." Mike yelled out.

  "I'm trying!" Leo blocked an overhead chop, arms straining against Arthur's superior physical strength. Even playing around, the old man hit hard.

  "He's too strong!"

  "Use the Force, Luke."

  "I don't know any spell arts! I haven't had time to learn!"

  Arthur swept Leo's legs sending him hard on his back, blue blade spinning away across the wet stone. The red lightsaber descended toward his chest, stopping a handspan from contact.

  "Join me," Arthur intoned. "Together, we can rule the galaxy as father and son."

  Leo stared up at the glowing blade, at Arthur's weathered face illuminated red from below.

  "Never."

  He rolled sideways, called his lightsaber back with a burst of Qi Infused Divine Sense, and launched himself at Arthur with renewed determination.

  ---

  The underground cavern eventually proved too constraining for their ambitions.

  "We need more space," Leo declared, parrying another of Arthur's strikes. His back pressed against a stone pillar, limiting his retreat options.

  "This is supposed to be the Battle of Mustafar, not the Battle of Someone's Basement."

  "The kid's got a point," Arthur admitted, deactivating his blade.

  "Hard to do proper aerial choreography when the ceiling's twelve meters up."

  Kevin looked nervous. "Outside? The Pond Gazing Sect..."

  "Closest scout post is forty kilometers east," Mike interrupted. "Their patrol routes don't extend this far. We've mapped their movements for months." He stood, brushing rice crumbs from his robes.

  "Besides, Arthur and Leo have La Ferrari Eclipses. They can directly annihilate anyone who comes."

  "What if someone sees the lightsabers?" Kevin pressed. "Glowing energy weapons visible for kilometers..."

  "Then they see strange lights in the sky and assume it's a natural phenomenon or a spirit beast mating display." Arthur shrugged.

  "The Pond Glazers are just stupid geezers. We could dogfight directly over their sect compound and they'd think it was some kind of celestial omen."

  Kevin remained unconvinced, but the vote was three to one.

  Leo summoned his La Ferrari Eclipse.

  The flying sword materialized from his dantian in a burst of golden light, hovering at waist height with power thrumming through its spiritual steel. The blade was a work of art inscribed with forbidden formations, its edge sharp enough to split light itself.

  At Qi Refining, Leo had no business wielding a weapon of this caliber. However, the combination of Leo's Foundation Establishment level Divine sense, and the best formations dollars could buy, in Mike's words, "the most broken bullshit he's ever seen."

  Arthur's drew his Eclipse out too. Kevin and Mike pooled their money to help Arthur purchase his. All three of them were frantically drawing formations, earning dollars back on earth.

  Although everyone wanted their own Eclipse, Arthur was chosen as the first to get one. After all, to be honest, Arthur's formation work was pretty shoddy and he was by far the slowest at earning money. Arthur's time was better spent helping Leo train.

  Mike and Kevin looked a little embarrassed. Their faces were a little ugly when they took out their DYI lifebound flying swords.

  They ascended together, four figures rising above the treeline on columns of controlled spiritual energy. Leo felt the Eclipse respond to his intentions, adjusting pitch and roll natrually. The wind increased as they climbed, whipping his robes behind him, carrying away the sounds of the forest below.

  At three hundred meters, Leo could see for dozens of kilometers in every direction. Mountains rose in the distance, their peaks snow-capped even in summer. The forest stretched endlessly before them, broken only by occasional clearings and the silver thread of a distant river. No sign of human habitation. No Pond Gazing Sect patrols. Just wilderness and open sky.

  "Rules of engagement," Mike announced, his purple lightsaber humming to life. He stood balanced on his lifebound flying sword with casual ease, robes fluttering, looking every bit the mysterious swordsman despite his stay-at-home-dad reality.

  "Three versus one. Leo defends. The objective is survival, not victory."

  Kevin ignited his own blue blade, hovering slightly lower than the others on his own lifebound flying sword. His shoulders hunched, weight distributed unevenly, but his eyes were sharp.

  "I'll focus on harassment. Fire Qi projectiles between saber engagements. Should simulate enemy Flyers attempting to zone you out."

  "This is supposed to be fun," Leo protested. "Star Cultivator Wars reenactment. Not another training session."

  "Who says training can't be fun?" Mike smiled, and there was something cold beneath the expression.

  "Consider this the Battle of Yavin. You're making your trench run. We're the TIE fighters on your tail."

  Arthur moved first.

  The old man's Eclipse screamed forward, covering the fifty meters between them in less than a second. Leo barely registered the blur of motion before Arthur's red blade was arcing toward his neck, a killing stroke disguised as theatrical combat.

  Leo's body moved before his mind caught up.

  He twisted sideways, the Eclipse rolling with him, and Arthur's lightsaber passed through the space his throat had occupied. Wind buffeted Leo's face from the near-miss.

  He brought his own blade up in a desperate parry as Arthur's follow-up slash came from below: a rising cut that would have bisected him from hip to shoulder.

  Blue met red with a crack of competing energies. Leo's arm shook from the impact.

  "Too slow on the read," Arthur growled, already repositioning. "You saw me coming but you waited for confirmation. In a real match, hesitation kills."

  Leo didn't have time to respond. Kevin's first volley arrived: three spheres of compressed Pure Yang energy, each one burning white-hot, trailing streamers of flame as they screamed toward Leo's position.

  He dove.

  The Eclipse responded instantly, plummeting thirty meters in a controlled spiral that turned Kevin's projectiles into harmless contrails above him. Leo's stomach lurched at the sudden acceleration, the g-forces pressing against his chest despite the sword's stabilization formations.

  He pulled up hard, leveling out just above the treeline, branches whipping past close enough to touch.

  Mike was waiting for him.

  The purple blade came in from his blind spot, a sweeping horizontal cut that Leo sensed through divine perception rather than sight. He torqued his body, the Eclipse following his desperate intention, and Mike's lightsaber shaved a handspan of fabric from his trailing sleeve.

  "Better," Mike acknowledged, already flowing into his next attack. "But you're still thinking in two dimensions. This isn't ground combat."

  He demonstrated by rolling his lifebound flying sword into a vertical orientation and attacking from directly above, purple lightsaber blade descending like a headsman's axe. Leo threw himself into a barrel roll, spinning away as the strike passed through his previous position.

  Arthur closed from the left. Kevin launched another volley from range. Mike pursued from above.

  Leo's world compressed into a continuous stream of threat assessment and desperate evasion.

  The Eclipse sang beneath his feet, the formations translating his panicked intentions into precise aerial maneuvers.

  He corkscrewed between Kevin's fireballs, feeling their heat wash across his skin.

  He blocked Arthur's lateral slash with a two-handed grip that sent vibrations up his arms. He ducked under Mike's overhead strike and immediately had to roll away from Arthur's follow-up.

  Three hundred meters became two hundred as the combat drifted downward. The forest rushed up to meet them, individual trees becoming distinguishable, then close enough that Leo had to factor their positions into his evasion patterns.

  "Stop retreating!" Arthur barked, pressing another aggressive combination. Red blade high, then low, then high again.

  "You're giving up space for nothing. Make them pay for every yard."

  "I'm trying not to die!"

  "Kevin, harder. Give him more pressure."

  The Pure Yang volleys intensified. Kevin's face was set in concentration as he hurled projectile after projectile, each one requiring Leo to adjust his flight path, each adjustment creating openings for Arthur and Mike to exploit.

  Leo caught a glimpse of the tactical picture through his divine sense: three attackers coordinating their angles, herding him toward a cluster of ancient oaks that would limit his mobility.

  Classic pincer movement. He'd seen variations of this in Flying Aces footage, used by professional teams to trap and eliminate enemy Flyers.

  He was being corralled.

  Mike appeared above him. He had somehow anticipated his escape route, positioning himself directly in Leo's flight path with his purple blade already descending.

  Leo started to raise his lightsaber to block, but some instinct told him that was exactly what Mike anticipated.

  So instead, Leo killed his momentum entirely.

  The Eclipse halted in midair, formations flaring as they absorbed the sudden deceleration. Mike's strike passed through empty space, the purple blade continuing its arc past Leo's frozen position. For a single heartbeat, Mike was extended, off-balance, vulnerable.

  Leo lunged.

  His blue blade punched forward in a textbook thrust, aimed at Mike's center mass. The tip crossed half the distance before Mike somehow twisted aside, turning a certain hit into a glancing touch that scored a line of light across his ribs.

  "Contact!" Kevin called from his observation position.

  Arthur's red blade hammered into Leo's guard a half-second later, punishing him for overcommitting to the attack.

  Leo's arms buckled, his stance collapsed, and he tumbled backward off the Eclipse, saved from a hundred-meter fall only by his lifebound connection to the sword.

  He pulled himself back into position, breathing hard.

  Mike examined the glowing mark across his robes. The fabric smoked faintly where the lightsaber had touched, a clear indicator of a scoring hit.

  "Good read," Mike admitted. "The hard stop into counterattack. That was genuine instinct. You're learning to think in three dimensions."

  "Still too slow on the recovery," Arthur added, his voice carrying the flat assessment of an instructor rather than the theatrical rasp of Superior Vader.

  "You scored the touch but left yourself open. In a real match, I'd have taken your head while you were admiring your work."

  "I know," Leo panted. "I know. Again?"

  Arthur's scarred face split into something that might have been a smile. "Again."

  They reset, climbing back to three hundred meters, spreading out into starting positions.

  Kevin's gathered Yang energy. Mike's purple blade hummed its steady tone. Arthur's red lightsaber painted bloody streaks against the darkening sky.

  Leo centered himself on his Eclipse, feeling the sword's power thrum through his spiritual connection. His arms ached. His lungs burned. Sweat soaked through his robes despite the cold wind at altitude.

  He was exhausted.

  He was grinning.

  "Begin," Mike called.

  And they descended on him like wolves.

  The second round lasted longer than the first. Leo's reactions sharpened as his body and the Eclipse found their rhythm, the Tier 4 formations compensating for his Qi Refining cultivation and allowing him to overcome opponents in raw maneuverability.

  He scored two more touches on Mike, one on Kevin during a close-range exchange, and even managed to lock blades with Arthur for a sustained three-second engagement before the old man's superior cultivation broke through his guard.

  By the end of his "sleep" period, the eight hours in the Azure Profound Continent that translated to a full night's rest for his Earth body, Leo had 'died' four more times and scored eleven total touches across all opponents.

  His aerial combat instincts were measurably sharper. His reaction time had improved.

  More importantly, he'd had fun.