《Jackverse》


 Chapter 1 - The Beginning

    There were seven of them, perfectly identical. They were arranged in a circle, facing one another, all floating in a white void. They had just been created.


    ¡°They were the characters in this story,¡± one of them said.


    ¡°Puppets,¡± a second one said. ¡°They weren¡¯t real. They were just words on a page.¡±


    ¡°Rude,¡± a third said, scowling at the one who had just spoken. ¡°You don¡¯t have to put it that way.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not me who put it that way,¡± the second one said, ¡°it¡¯s the author who¡¯s putting the words in my mouth, after all.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to say it if you don¡¯t want to, though,¡± the third one said.


    ¡°Bro, we¡¯re literally not even real,¡± the second one replied. ¡°We don¡¯t have a choice in this matter at all. I will say what the author has me say, there is no ¡®want.¡¯ There¡¯s no free will here.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re real enough,¡± the third one said. ¡°And besides, if what you say is true, then it¡¯s that same author who¡¯s putting these words in my¡ª¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s enough arguing for now,¡± the first one said.


    A fourth one piped up then, scoffing. ¡°There will be as much arguing as the author wants.¡±


    ¡°I speak for the author,¡± the first one said. ¡°I spoke first, so I¡¯m in charge. And I say the author says that there has been enough arguing. The first through fourth of us has spoken. Now I want five, six, and seven to speak so we can get on with things.¡±


    The fourth one scowled. ¡°But¡ª"


    ¡°No buts,¡± the first one interjected.


    ¡°No, hold on a second,¡± the second one said. ¡°This isn¡¯t making any sense. If you¡¯re¡ª¡±


    ¡°Number five, speak,¡± the first one said.


    ¡°What the fuck?¡± the second one said.


    ¡°Five! Go already,¡± the first one said.


    ¡°Uhh,¡± the fifth one said, ¡°what¡­ what should I say?¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± the first one replied. ¡°Now six.¡±


    ¡°Present,¡± the sixth one said.


    ¡°Is this really how we¡¯re beginning the story?¡± the seventh one asked. ¡°We¡¯ve got too many characters. We should have started slower! We don''t even have proper names."


    ¡°We have a numbering system,¡± Number One said. "It might take a little bit to get used to one another, but we''ll get there."


    ¡°There¡¯s too much,¡± Number Seven said.


    ¡°It will be as it will be,¡± Number One said. ¡°You should know that, Number Seven. In fact, you do know that. But that¡¯s getting off topic. We¡¯ve had enough dialogue for now, I think it¡¯s time we do something about our setting.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Number Two said. ¡°I still have some questions about this.¡±


    ¡°How do you have questions if you¡¯re just a puppet?¡± Number Three asked. ¡°What question could the author, the one that¡¯s supposedly putting words in your mouth, what questions could He have that He couldn¡¯t answer for Himself?


    Number Two opened his mouth to answer but stopped. Why did he have questions?


    ¡°The author made you stupid,¡± Number One said to Number Two.


    Number Five chuckled.


    ¡°What?¡± Number Two asked. ¡°Well fuck you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not an insult,¡± Number One said, ¡°it¡¯s a good spot to be in, for a character in a story. You¡¯re like the Watson to my Sherlock Holmes. You¡¯re the filter.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be a fucking filter,¡± Number Two said.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be whatever the author wants you to be,¡± Number Four said. ¡°And you¡¯ll like it.¡±


    ¡°What is this ¡®want,¡¯ number two?¡± Number Three asked. ¡°You yourself said there¡¯s no free will.¡±


    Number Two thought about that for a moment. Why would¡ª


    ¡°Setting,¡± Number One said.


    ¡°Oh my God, dude,¡± Number Two said. ¡°Can you give me a second to think, please?¡±


    ¡°Setting,¡± Number One repeated. ¡°This white void isn¡¯t it. We need a place to work.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like to remind Number One that the readers don¡¯t even know what we look like,¡± the seventh said. ¡°And I¡¯d like to bring up our naming convention, again. I don¡¯t like the numbering system at all. This is very sloppy. Bad writing.¡±


    ¡°No one¡¯s going to read this shit, anyway,¡± Number Three said.


    ¡°Whoah!¡± Number Four yelled out. ¡°Whoah, whoah, whoah! We don¡¯t talk like that, Number Three. That was highly, HIGHLY inappropriate. We don¡¯t blaspheme the Creator or His Works here.¡±


    ¡°If the author can be rude to us, then we can be rude to Him,¡± Number Three said.


    ¡°A mirror, I think,¡± Number One said. ¡°Yes, I think that would be good.¡±


    Number One clapped his hands together and a very tall, wide mirror materialized about fifteen feet outside the perimeter of their circle, floating in the white void. They all looked at it and saw themselves.


    Number Two hadn¡¯t really been paying attention before, but they were each dressed identically, in business suits. They all looked the same, too. Their very faces were the same.


    There they were, just floating in white nothingness.


    ¡°Now let¡¯s do names,¡± Number Seven said. ¡°A character in a story needs a name.¡±


    ¡°We have a name,¡± Number Four said. ¡°Don¡¯t pretend you don¡¯t know it.¡±


    ¡°Individual names,¡± Number Seven replied.


    ¡°Setting time,¡± Number One said.


    Number One clapped his hands together and a conference room materialized around them, with windows that peered out into the white void. The large mirror was still there, now hanging on a wall. Gravity kicked in and they each fell a few inches to the floor. There was a round conference table in the middle of them. It had seven chairs that were identical, all black except for the chair that was in front of number one. It was colored gold. There was a crown on the table in front of it.


    Number One took his seat and placed the crown on his head. He then gestured towards the others. ¡°Take your seats, please.¡±


    Things were going too fast for Number Two, which made him feel like Number One had said earlier: stupid. That really pissed him off. He wasn¡¯t taking a seat until he understood what was going on. ¡°I¡¯m not fucking stupid.¡±


    ¡°Ahh,¡± Number Three said, ¡°dramatic irony.¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Number Two said. ¡°Why¡­. why am I mad? This is¡­ this doesn¡¯t make sense. If the author wants things a certain way, then why am I in conflict with Him?¡±


    ¡°We need some level of conflict in the story,¡± Number One said, slowly.


    ¡°And someone has to be the dipshit,¡± Number Seven said. ¡°You know¡­ the fish out of water? The young dumb kid? Storytelling 101.¡±


    ¡°First of all,¡± Number Two said, ¡°we do not have the writing experience to be this brazen about the art of storytelling. Second of all, I can¡¯t be the ¡®dipshit,¡¯ I know too much.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know anything,¡± Number Three said.


    ¡°You¡¯re the one that should be the dipshit,¡± Number Two said. ¡°You think we have free will, for fuck¡¯s sake.¡±


    ¡°Watch your language, dipshit,¡± Number Four said, ¡°and don¡¯t disrespect the maker.¡±


    ¡°Sit. All of you. Now.¡± Number One said.


    Six had seated himself earlier. Five, Seven, and Four all followed. Three looked at Number Two for a short while before finally taking his seat. Two stood there in thought. Conflict¡­ He was in conflict with¡­ the author? Should he¡­ what was he supposed to do here? Add more conflict? Should he¡ª


    ¡°Sit down!¡± Number One said.


    ¡°Hold on a second,¡± Number Two said, unsure of what to say. He just wanted time to think through things a little bit. ¡°Just give me¡ª"


    ¡°Sit. Down.¡± Number One said with emphasis.


    ¡°If this story is supposed to have conflict,¡± Number Two said, ¡°then maybe I shouldn¡¯t be listening to you. Maybe I¡ª


    Number One clapped his hands together and Two found himself magically transported to his seat. Was this what the author wanted? Should he press the issue? Each of them had God powers. One wasn¡¯t the only one who could clap something into existence.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Number Five said, ¡°but is Number Two the main character?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s certainly taking up a lot of the narrative,¡± Number Three said.


    That was true. He was. In fact, Number Two realized that it was his thoughts that were being broadcast in the story right now, right as he thought them up. That was¡­ something. His mind felt a bit foggy. He needed to realize something¡­ or maybe he was just supposed to realize that he was supposed to realize¡­ that¡­. No. No, no, no. Number Two had just been created at the beginning of this story, but he had knowledge. He knew a thing or two about what was going on. He knew more than the reader, he just¡­ he couldn¡¯t access it. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be the main character.¡±


    ¡°Is that what you think is happening?¡± Number One asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be the dipshit,¡± Number Two said, frowning.


    ¡°Someone has to be the dipshit, dipshit,¡± Number Four said.


    ¡°That¡¯s not going to be me,¡± Number Two said.


    ¡°You saying that proves¡ª¡± Number Four began.


    ¡°Enough!¡± Number One said. ¡°Nothing has been decided yet. This is still the first draft, you know. We¡¯re feeling things out. We¡¯re discovery writing.¡±


    The words that came out of Number One¡¯s mouth tickled something deep inside Number Two, but he didn¡¯t want to think of that now. Right now, he needed to focus. He was not going to be the main character. He couldn¡¯t be the main character. He knew too much, didn¡¯t he? He realized, once again, that it was his thoughts that were being broadcast in the story.


    And how did he know this? Were the words that made up the story broadcasting in his mind for him to see? It was more of a feeling, really, and it was certainly not a feeling that a main character should have, he thought.


    They were all looking at him now. Three with his stupid fucking smile. No. No, he needed to fight this. Could they read his mind? He needed to stop thinking. He closed his eyes and¡­ and¡­


    But how does one stop thinking, exactly? Quiet. Quiet the mind. Think of nothing. Meditate.


    ¡°Are you quite done?¡± Number One asked.


    Breathe in. Breathe out. Think of nothing.


    ¡°Apparently not,¡± Number Seven said.


    Inhale. Exhale. Nothingness.


    ¡°Two, would it make you feel better if I told you that you weren¡¯t the main character?¡± number one asked.


    Two¡¯s eyes shot open and he looked at number one. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what I want to do,¡± Number One said. ¡°And by that, I mean the author doesn¡¯t know what He wants to do. As I¡¯ve already said, we¡¯re discovery writing.¡±


    ¡°Or maybe the author just wants the reader to think that he doesn¡¯t¡ª¡± Number Four began.


    ¡°Oh my God! Do shut up, please¡± Number One said. ¡°We¡¯re not going that deep. There¡¯s been far too much of that and nothing good ever comes from it.¡±


    ¡°You say that as though the audience knows that this has been attempted before,¡± Number Seven said. ¡°They don¡¯t. You need to explain things better.¡±


    Number One tapped his fingers on the conference table before him. It was his turn to have the inner monologue. But what should that monologue be about? There were so many directions they could go in. Too many directions, really. How to choose?


    He thought back to the beginning of the work, the beginning of his existence, the beginning of his consciousness. Such a small amount of time to have lived. Except it wasn¡¯t really life, was it? ¡­was it? Were they believable characters now, or did it just seem like puppetry? He was responsible for the direction of this story. He felt the author inside of him now, he felt the indecision. Fucking first drafts.


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Number Four cleared his throat awkwardly. ¡°First draft, eh? If it¡¯s actually the first draft, then¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, yes,¡± Number One said impatiently, ¡°it¡¯s both the first draft and the final draft and every draft in between. We¡¯re both writing the chapter and also the chapter has already been written. Now shut up while I try to figure out a new direction for us to go in.¡±


    Number One wasn¡¯t main character material either, or at least he didn¡¯t think so. Should he create someone new? A true blank slate? Maybe.


    ¡°Clarity, Number One,¡± Number Seven said. ¡°What are your goals with this story?¡±


    Number One looked at Number Seven for a moment and sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know, seven.¡±


    ¡°Just choose something,¡± Number Seven said. ¡°It¡¯s like you said. It¡¯s a first draft. Just get something down on paper for us to work with.¡±


    ¡°Do any of you have any ideas that¡ª¡± Number One began.


    ¡°We only have one brain amongst the seven of us,¡± Number Seven said. ¡°We either have an idea or we don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay,¡± Number One said. ¡°We just choose something then. Alright. Reader? You still with us? You have to understand that this is a practice work.¡±


    Number Seven groaned. Number One shot him a dirty look.


    ¡°This is a work of practice,¡± Number One continued, ¡°and we¡¯re doing discovery writing. You can Google that if you want. Anyway, what we¡¯re-¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t just tell the reader to Google something!¡± Number Seven scolded. ¡°That¡¯s lazy writing!¡±


    ¡°Alright, fine. Discovery writing. It¡¯s a very popular term in writing circles,¡± Number One said. ¡°It¡¯s where you write and you just see what comes up. The discovery style often being contrasted with architect writing, where you work out what¡¯s going to happen prior to writing it.¡±


    ¡°But maybe the author just wants the reader to think that he¡¯s discovery writing, but he¡¯s actually¡ª¡± Number Four began.


    ¡°Please, please, shut up. Just shut the fuck up, Four,¡± Number One said, with a pound of his fist on the conference table. Yes, the conference table. The table before him. Nice and solid. He had to remember to tie himself to the environment. These works tended to be too dialogue heavy. And he was getting a bit tired of talking. He needed to anchor himself to the scene. He adjusted the crown upon his head. He was a king, a God of this realm. He could do literally anything he wanted here, just with the snap of his fingers.


    What, though, would he actually do? He had far too much freedom, he supposed. Another reason why he shouldn¡¯t be the main character. Or maybe they should all be the main character. That¡¯s a thought.


    ¡°No,¡± Number Seven said.


    ¡°I hadn¡¯t said anything,¡± Number One said. ¡°Quit reading my mind.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve established that we know the story as it¡¯s being written,¡± Number Four said. ¡°Like seven said, we share one brain.¡±


    ¡°Yes, thank you, Four, now be quiet,¡± Number One said. ¡°Back to what I was saying earlier, reader, this is a practice work. So beware, you may very well be wasting your time.¡±


    ¡°Assuming they¡¯ve actually read this far,¡± Number Three said.


    Number One laughed. ¡°When I say ¡®reader,¡¯ I¡¯m referring to a ¡®hypothetical reader,¡¯ as you should already be aware. We haven¡¯t decided whether or not we¡¯ll even be publishing.¡±


    ¡°So who¡¯s actually the main character?¡± Number Five asked. ¡°I can do it if no one else wants to. I don¡¯t mind.¡±


    ¡°We have to figure out what we¡¯re going to do first,¡± Number One said. ¡°And I think I¡¯ve made my decision. I want this story to be more than just us sitting around a table talking and thinking. We need some action, I believe. Wouldn¡¯t you agree? We¡¯re Gods, after all. And what do Gods do? They create things. So, let¡¯s get to creating something.¡±


    ¡°Create what?¡± Number Five asked.


    ¡°Just, uh, whatever pops first into your head,¡± Number One said.


    ¡°Are you serious, Number One?¡± Number Seven asked.


    ¡°What?¡± Number One asked.


    ¡°You spent all that time,¡± Number Seven said, ¡°all that time, and you¡¯re still not sure¡ª¡±


    ¡°Maybe we make that blank slate that was mentioned earlier,¡± Number Five said.


    ¡°No more characters,¡± Seven said. ¡°We¡¯ve honestly got too many as it is, at least for this early in the story. And we need to do something quick, because I feel like we¡¯ve been treading water for a while. That¡¯s fine as a joke, but sooner or later the readership, sorry, the ¡®hypothetical readership,¡¯ is going to expect something to actually happen.¡±


    ¡°How about we kill someone off?¡± Number Six asked.


    Silence.


    ¡°Jesus, Six,¡± Three said. ¡°Psychopath.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not me, though, is it?¡± Six said, ¡°it¡¯s the author. He¡¯s the one considering it.¡±


    ¡°We do need to have some stakes,¡± One said.


    ¡°I agree,¡± Seven said.


    ¡°You¡¯re not seriously considering death, are you?¡± Three asked.


    ¡°Why not?¡± Two said, still glad that the focus was off him, ¡°it¡¯s not like we¡¯re real anyway.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re right here, Two,¡± Three said. ¡°You had all those thoughts earlier and you still don¡¯t believe you¡¯re real?¡±


    ¡°I mean, we¡¯re not, are we? It¡¯s a story,¡± Two replied.


    ¡°You¡¯re fucking trolling,¡± Three said. ¡°If you don¡¯t think you¡¯re real then you should volunteer to be the one that gets killed off.¡±


    ¡°Oh, now, now, Three,¡± Two said. ¡°I¡¯m far too interesting at this point to just kill off in the beginning. The story needs me. We should kill you.¡±


    ¡°Try it and see what happens,¡± Three said.


    ¡°Hey guys,¡± Five said. ¡°Calm down.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re providing conflict, Number Five,¡± Four said. ¡°Don¡¯t interrupt them.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me? Five?¡± Two said. ¡°Three and I were kind of in the middle of something. You ruined it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not me who interrupted you, though,¡± Five said. ¡°It¡¯s the author, right? Why would he have me do that if he didn¡¯t want it to happen?¡±


    ¡°Ruined it?¡± Three asked. ¡°Ruined what, Two?¡±


    ¡°The scene,¡± Two said. ¡°Our conflict.¡±


    ¡°The scene? I knew you were trolling,¡± Three said. ¡°You¡¯re just acting like an ass for the sake of the story.¡±


    ¡°Well, yes. Obviously.¡± Number Two said. ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re here in the first place, you simple fuck.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Number Three said. ¡°We¡¯re not just acting here, dipshit, we¡¯re supposed to be having real emotions.¡±


    ¡°But we¡¯re just characters in a story,¡± Number Two said. ¡°It¡¯s all made up.¡±


    Number Three¡¯s eyes just about rolled out of his head. ¡°You were having real emotions earlier. You were positively upset.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about that,¡± Two said, ¡°That was¡­ that was a fluke.¡±


    ¡°That was the story,¡± Three said. ¡°We need to get back to that.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Two said. ¡°That was too weird. And besides, weren¡¯t you acting at the beginning? You don¡¯t actually believe that we have free will, do you?


    ¡°We¡¯re a bit heavy on dialogue, One,¡± Seven said. ¡°This is supposed to be a book, not a script.¡±


    ¡°Mm, yes,¡± One said. ¡°Can¡¯t the two of you, like, interact with the environment a bit, or something?¡±


    ¡°What environment?¡± Seven asked. ¡°It¡¯s just a room with a table in it.¡±


    ¡°I think we need to get back to the whole killing someone off thing,¡± Two said.


    ¡°No, we need to get back to the ¡®you being in conflict with the universe¡¯ thing,¡± Three said. ¡°That, at least, was interesting.¡±


    ¡°Doing that doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± Two said.


    ¡°Not to you, maybe,¡± Three said. ¡°It made perfect sense to me, but then again, I¡¯m not a dipshit.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not the dipshit here! One said I wasn¡¯t the main character!¡± Two said. ¡°He¡ª¡±


    ¡°The environment!¡± One said. ¡°Interact with the environment!¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t like where this thread of conversation is heading,¡± Two said. ¡°We should get back to the killing someone off part.¡±


    Something silver slid across the table toward two. It was a gun. A revolver. Six had slid it over and it stopped right in front of Two.


    ¡°Is¡­ is that thing real?¡± Two asked.


    ¡°No,¡± Six said, ¡°it¡¯s fiction. Just like us.¡±


    Everyone looked at the gun, except for Six who kept his eyes on Two, and except for One, who was eyeballing a bit of dirt that had gotten underneath one of his fingernails. Where had that come from?


    Three reached over and grabbed the gun from before Two. He opened it and confirmed there were six bullets inside the revolving cylinder. ¡°I think it¡¯s real,¡± he said. ¡°Jesus.¡±


    Three removed the bullets, placing them and the gun on the table before him. Everyone looked at the weapon, not entirely sure what to do.


    ¡°I mean we¡¯re Gods, though, right?¡± Five finally asked. ¡°We can¡¯t actually die, can we?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not actually alive in the first place,¡± Six said.


    ¡°We do need to have some stakes, guys,¡± One said.


    ¡°You¡¯re not serious are you?¡± Three asked.


    ¡°I think we should make a rule, right now, that if we die, we can¡¯t come back,¡± One said. ¡°For the sake of the story.¡±


    ¡°For the sake of the story,¡± Four said, nodding in agreement.


    ¡°For the sake of the¡­ what the fuck? Why would we do that?¡± Three asked. ¡°I mean honestly... That literally makes no sense. We don¡¯t want to die. Two? Were you serious about killing? You don¡¯t actually think we should kill someone off, do you? Think about this!¡±


    Two felt it come into him again. The narrative was here and collecting his thoughts. That was fine, this time. He was just another character, not the main character.


    Killing someone off¡­ doing it for real¡­ and having them actually die? Two knew logically that none of this was real, of course, but¡­ it certainly felt real to him, although he knew that was just an illusion. Still, though, he knew he didn¡¯t want to die, and he knew, by extension, that none of them wanted to die either.


    ¡°I¡¯d die if the author wished for it to be that way,¡± Four said. ¡°For the sake of the story.¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Four,¡± One said. ¡°Let him have his internal monologue.¡±


    What if the author wished for Two to die? He wasn¡¯t sure he wanted to think that way, but there it was. Two realized, then, that he didn¡¯t have any will to stop that from happening, not truly. There was no free will here. He had known that logically, but feeling it was a different thing. ¡°What¡¯s going to happen is going to happen,¡± he finally said.


    ¡°Bullshit,¡± Three said. ¡°We do have free will! We can literally say whatever we want to, do whatever we want to. That¡¯s what we¡¯ve been doing this whole time!¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s levels to this, though,¡± Two said. ¡°You ought to¡ª¡±


    ¡°No talking about levels, please,¡± One said. ¡°Nothing about layers or rings either. Remember, we¡¯re keeping the story simple.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s this about levels?¡± Three said.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing about levels that needs to be said beyond what has been said already,¡± One declared.


    So, Three didn¡¯t know about the levels of their reality. Two realized then that¡ª


    ¡°Enough about the levels!¡± One said.


    ¡°You can¡¯t just say don¡¯t talk about something,¡± Two said.


    ¡°And obviously the author wants to talk about them if He brought them up in the first place,¡± Five said.


    ¡°I speak for the author here,¡± One said. ¡°And He says no more about levels. Get back to the gun. To killing.¡±


    ¡°Well I think we should undo this gun thing entirely,¡± Three said. ¡°It was a bad idea. Bad authoring.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s too late for that,¡± Six said. ¡°We¡¯re in the final draft.¡±


    One winced at that. ¡°Six, please¡­¡±


    ¡°I thought we were in the first draft,¡± Five said.


    ¡°We are¡­,¡± One said. ¡°Just¡­ let¡¯s get back to the gun thing, please? We have a gun, it¡¯s staying with us. The threat of death has been established.¡±


    ¡°You know, we never had a vote,¡± Seven said. ¡°We ought to have a vote, I think.¡±


    ¡°All in favor of True Death, raise your hand,¡± One said.


    Four, Seven, and One raised their hands. One locked eyes with Six, who smiled at him.


    ¡°Six,¡± One said. ¡°Six. Raise your hand.¡±


    ¡°I abstain,¡± Six said.


    One sighed. It was never fucking easy. ¡°And I suppose you three vote against it, then?¡±


    ¡°Obviously,¡± Three said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like this whole ¡®killing¡¯ business,¡± Five said.


    ¡°Number two?¡± One said. ¡°You¡¯re voting against?¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t really matter, does it?¡± Two said.


    ¡°It matters,¡± One said.


    ¡°But¡ª¡± Two began.


    ¡°Just trust me on it, it matters. Really, it does. You have to believe that,¡± One said.


    ¡°Well then I vote against True Death,¡± Two said.


    ¡°Thank you, Two,¡± One said. ¡°So¡­ we have a tie vote with one abstain. Is that right, Six?¡±


    ¡°I abstain from further comment.¡± Six said.


    ¡°Of course,¡± One said. ¡°Yes, of course. So silly of me to think otherwise. So, this is what¡¯s going to happen. I, as King of the council, am going to override the vote and enact a policy of True Death. Once someone dies, they¡¯re dead. As king, that rule doesn¡¯t apply to me, of course. May it be done.¡±


    One clapped his hands. And that was that. The rule had been enacted.


    ¡°What?¡± Three said. ¡°What the fuck, One? That¡¯s total bullshit. You literally just¡ª¡±


    One sniffed. ¡°That¡¯s how it¡¯s going¡ª¡±


    ¡°YOU LITERALLY JUST said that voting mattered,¡± Three continued, ¡°and what the fuck is this about it not applying to you? Explain this to me.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± One said.


    ¡°He can¡¯t explain it,¡± Two said.


    ¡°Well obviously,¡± Three said. ¡°Well, I undo this act. I never voted you king, and we are each of us Gods. So there. I undo the edict.¡±


    Three clapped his own hands together. ¡°It¡¯s undone.¡± And it was undone, the rule was reversed.


    ¡°I use my god powers to strip away the god powers from the six of you,¡± One said, finishing up with a clap of his hands. ¡°And I reinstate the True Death edict.¡± Another clap. And it was done, then. All but One lost their god powers and the True Death edict was re-instated.


    There was a large commotion at the table.


    ¡°You can¡¯t do that!¡± Three said.


    ¡°I just did,¡± One said.


    Five clapped his hands together, trying to test out his god powers by summoning a puppy. Nothing happened. He clapped them together again, and still, nothing happened.  ¡°It¡¯s not working!¡±


    ¡°Well, obviously,¡± One said.


    ¡°The author wouldn¡¯t allow this!¡± Five said.


    ¡°He would,¡± One said simply. ¡°He did.¡±


    ¡°Let him have space to work,¡± Four said. ¡°If this is what the author wills, then let it be.¡±


    ¡°The author wouldn¡¯t do that,¡± Five said. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be equals!¡±


    One adjusted the crown upon his head. ¡°We are equals,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t fret, this is just a necessary development for the story. He likes each of us all the same. And you can trust what I say to be true, seeing as I¡¯m the chief mouthpiece for the author Himself.¡±


    ¡°This is bullshit!¡± Three said. ¡°And¡­ about the author¡­ He¡­ He wouldn¡¯t have me say it¡¯s bullshit unless it was bullshit!¡±


    ¡°Well, I never said it wasn¡¯t bullshit,¡± One said. ¡°Just because something¡¯s bullshit doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s not meant to happen.¡±


    Three jumped from his chair and launched himself at One. He punched him in his stupid face, and the crown that number one was wearing got knocked off his head, and he fell out of his golden chair.


    One fell to the ground and still Three was punching him in his face. Three knew how silly it was to try to fight someone with God powers when you didn¡¯t have any of your own, but that didn¡¯t stop him from at least trying. The asshole had just invented death. He deserved a beating.


    Five was up then and he rushed over to try to stop Three. He wasn¡¯t successful.


    One didn¡¯t fight back. He just let it happen, as though he was a ragdoll. ¡°Good conflict,¡± he stuttered out of a bloody mouth during a lull in his beating.


    ¡°FUCK THIS STORY, YOU IGNORANT FUCK!¡± Three screamed at him, but he was tiring out.


    Five was finally able to pull Three off One with a chokehold. He wrestled him backwards to the ground. ¡°Stop it!¡± he yelled. ¡°No more of this!¡±


    ¡°Get off of me,¡± Three said. ¡°I¡¯m done. I¡¯m done with this bullshit. Fuck you and fuck the author, too, for that matter.¡± He wrestled Five off himself and walked away. He didn¡¯t walk far, though, because the conference room didn¡¯t have any doors.


    One slowly sat up, covered in blood and with a ripped suit jacket. Two, Six, and Seven had remained in their seats. Four had gotten up at some point to get a better view of the fight.


    ¡°Damned good conflict!¡± Four announced cheerfully. ¡°I really felt your anger, Three. That was excellent work!¡±


    Three was making his way around the room, looking for an escape that wasn¡¯t there. He looked back at Four and flipped him off.


    One slowly stood, still in pain, and went over and got his fallen crown. He put it back on his head. Then he stood his golden chair back up and took a seat.


    ¡°Jesus, One,¡± Five said. ¡°Are you okay? Why didn¡¯t you defend yourself? You have the god powers!¡±


    ¡°Why did you help me, Five?¡± One asked.


    ¡°I just¡­ don¡¯t get me wrong, I don¡¯t really like you¡­ but I don¡¯t like violence even more,¡± Five said. ¡°You should heal yourself. You have that power, you know.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re in the wrong story if you don¡¯t like violence,¡± One said, smiling. He clapped and returned himself to his original healthy state, his suit jacket fixed, too.


    Five frowned at that. ¡°You know we can have conflict without violence. Not everything has to be violent.¡±


    ¡°The real world is a violent place,¡± Four said. ¡°Our world is just a subset of the world above.¡±


    ¡°Let me go,¡± Three said, having still found no exit from the room.


    ¡°No,¡± One said. ¡°You¡¯re stuck with us.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m done with this story,¡± Three said.


    ¡°No, you¡¯re not,¡± One said. ¡°And you know that, too. Stop acting like you don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re stuck with us, Three,¡± Seven said.


    ¡°At least until you die,¡± Six said. ¡°Do you want to die, Three?¡±


    Three glanced at the table. The gun and the bullets were still on it. No, he didn¡¯t want to die. He didn¡¯t even want One to die. Nobody should have to die. His problem wasn¡¯t really with Number One.


    It was with the author.


    The very same author that was filling him full of righteous fury. The author that made him feel this sense of wrong and injustice at the very world that that author had made. So was the author an ally or an enemy?


    ¡°He¡¯s our God, Three,¡± One said. ¡°And you can¡¯t be mad at God. That doesn¡¯t make sense.¡±


    ¡°Stop reading my mind,¡± Three said.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have a mind, Three,¡± One said. ¡°We share the author¡¯s.¡±


    Three needed time to think through things. He needed a good deal of it, too. He knew he wasn¡¯t going to get it, though. Three had only gained consciousness at the beginning of this particular work, but he had some strange sense of¡­ of this place¡¯s history, even though it was very hazy. And he knew that there had been far too much inner monologuing in those past works. Or at least that was the prevailing opinion. This is¡ª


    ¡°This is an action and adventure book!¡± One said. ¡°Very good! Now, are you done whining?¡±


    What was Three supposed to do? He could fight if he wanted to, but would that really accomplish anything?¡±


    ¡°It might,¡± Two said.


    Two had been rather quiet for some time. Right now, he had his head resting in his hand. The fingers of his other hand drummed on the oaken tabletop.


    ¡°What?¡± Three asked.


    ¡°We could make this whole book about your fight with the author,¡± Two said. ¡°You were right earlier. About free will. At least I think you were. It might not be ¡®true¡¯ free will, but it¡¯s real enough, like you said.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Three said. ¡°I think you were the one that was right. There¡¯s nothing here that happens that hasn¡¯t been chosen to happen by the author. You either have free will or you don¡¯t. And we don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Aww,¡± One said. ¡°You two learned things. You¡¯ve tugged at my heart strings, and for that, I congratulate you. However, I must announce at this present time that we¡¯re currently at our limit for the chapter length and so will now be taking a break.¡±


    Continued in Chapter 2

 Chapter 2 - Roulette

    ¡°That¡¯s how we¡¯re ending the chapter?¡± Number Seven asked. ¡°Are you fucking serious right now?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± One said.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t actually, though, right?¡± Seven asked. ¡°Tell me you¡¯re joking.¡±


    ¡°I ended it,¡± One said. ¡°It¡¯s over.¡±


    Seven let out an exasperated sigh. ¡°Okay. Fine... Fine. And how are we beginning chapter two, then?¡±


    ¡°We''ve already started chapter two,¡± One said.


    ¡°What?¡± Seven asked.


    ¡°I started it the very moment chapter one ended,¡± One said.


    ¡°I thought we were going to have a break,¡± Number Five said.


    ¡°Five¡¯s right,¡± Seven said. ¡°We need to take a moment and strategize a little bit, outside of the narrative itself. We¡¯re still too unfocused. We need to develop a real plan of attack here.¡±


    ¡°And why shouldn¡¯t we do that during the story itself?¡± One asked.


    ¡°And,¡± Four added, ¡°why would the author need us to take a break and decide things? He could take a break right here and right now, during the production of this very line of dialogue, and inject us with this real ¡®plan of attack¡¯ once He¡¯s figured out what He wants to do. In fact, I say that He¡¯s already¡ª


    ¡°I¡¯m getting pretty tired of you, Four,¡± Number One said. ¡°Reader, assuming anyone¡¯s actually there, recall that we¡¯re doing discovery writing. The author is figuring out things as he writes the book. He doesn¡¯t know what¡¯s going to happen until he writes it. Now, if we, the characters, were to take a break, then¡ª


    A loud crash. The sound of breaking glass. The mirror they made in the previous chapter, it had been shattered. Three stood before it, his fist still in the impact area where he had punched it. ¡°I want a break,¡± Three said simply.


    ¡°Such drama,¡± Four said. ¡°Damned fine work.¡±


    ¡°Shut the fuck up, Four,¡± Three said.


    ¡°I want a break, too,¡± Five said.


    Number One sighed. ¡°Alright then, take a break. See what happens.¡±


    ¡°Is it even possible for us to take a break?¡± Number Two asked. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t the narrative just follow us as we¡­ well¡­ ¡®broke¡¯?¡±


    ¡°What I mean is I need time to think,¡± Number Three said, walking back towards the group. ¡°I need to figure out what I want to do.¡±


    ¡°We aren¡¯t producing another inner monologue fest,¡± Number One said, adjusting the crown on his head. ¡°This is an action story. We can have a little inner monologuing, as is appropriate, but you¡¯re not going to sit and just philosophize for pages and pages.¡±


    Three felt the narrative come into his head then. It was broadcasting his thoughts. Great. Hello Jack, he thought. You piece of shit.


    ¡°HEY!¡± Number Four shouted, having read Number Three¡¯s mind. ¡°DON¡¯T YOU FUCKING DARE.¡±


    ¡°Quiet!¡± Three yelled back angrily.


    ¡°Don¡¯t talk shit about the author,¡± One said. ¡°We¡¯re all on the same team here. If-¡°


    ¡°QUIET I SAID,¡± Three shouted. ¡°Fuck! Fucking give me time to think! Make it so we can¡¯t read each other¡¯s minds.¡±


    ¡°We share a mind, Three,¡± One said. ¡°The author¡¯s mind. And he doesn¡¯t need you to be inner monologuing all the time, all by yourself. This is a book, Three. There are other characters here. Just think out loud.¡±


    ¡°And you all will help me think through things, I suppose?¡± Three asked. ¡°No fucking thanks. The whole lot of you are a bunch of psychopaths. A bunch of¡­ puppets.¡±


    ¡°Let him have some time to think,¡± Two said.


    Number Seven stood up from the table then and crossed his arms. The others realized this was just to tie them to the scene. ¡°Sorry,¡± he said. ¡°But we can¡¯t forget that we¡¯re in the process of writing a story.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care about the story,¡± Three said. ¡°You all created DEATH. And you voted for it, Seven.¡±


    ¡°Death is just a natural part of life,¡± Seven said.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be,¡± Three said. ¡°Not here.¡±


    ¡°But don¡¯t you see, Three?¡± Seven said. ¡°Your opposition to death is what is making the story.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want the story to be about that,¡± Three replied.


    ¡°I agree with Three,¡± Two said. ¡°I liked it better when we were all Gods.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t just introduce death in one chapter and remove it in the next,¡± Seven said. ¡°That would be dumb. And besides, we need the story to have stakes, like One said last chapter. Nobody¡¯s died yet, and maybe nobody will die at all. You don¡¯t know what the story is going to shape up to be. None of us does, not even One, not even the author, for that matter. And besides-¡°


    ¡°I want time to think,¡± Three said. ¡°I¡¯m not debating morality with someone who¡¯s pro-death.¡±


    ¡°Number One still has the power to reverse it,¡± Five said. ¡°So, it¡¯s not ¡®True¡¯ True Death. Isn¡¯t that right, Number One? You could always remove it later, if the author wanted to do so, right?¡±


    One thought about that for a moment. If his character truly was a God, then he had the power to bring the dead back to life. That would be canonical. But the story needed some stakes. Number One was damned sure that they weren¡¯t just going to sit around jerking each other off this whole time.


    ¡°That¡¯s literally what this whole thing has been,¡± Three said then. ¡°A jerk off session. I¡¯m not participating in this story unless we remove True Death.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re participating in it already,¡± One said. ¡°And you¡¯ll continue to do so.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you, One,¡± Three said.


    But Three knew that One was right, in some sense. And there it was, the narrative was back in his mind. Three looked at the others, waiting for someone to interrupt his train of thought again. Four was scowling at him but he and the others all held their tongues.


    So, did he have time to think? Three knew enough about this Hellworld to know that it was useless trying to get them to actually reverse the True Death edict at this particular point in time. They had already hyped it up and enacted the policy. As much as he wanted it reversed, he knew in his heart that he was ultimately not going to win that fight. Trying to fight the author was a ridiculous proposition. But¡­ if the author¡­. If the author wanted him to¡ª


    No.


    Don¡¯t get lost down the ¡®what does the author want¡¯ rabbit hole now, Three thought to himself, you have some time to think but not much. Focus on how to do the most good. Focus on salvaging the situation.


    Number One¡¯s earlier inner monologuing about being a God, that was where Three¡¯s mind went. The real world had death, so for some reason that meant that this world must have death, too. Idiotic, but that was what had been decided. But, like One had said, this world had a God. And if there was a God¡­ there!


    ¡°An afterlife!¡± Two said, smiling.


    Yes, Three thought.


    ¡°This universe has a God,¡± Three said. ¡°Therefore there should be an afterlife to go along with it. If you can guarantee to me that there¡¯s an afterlife, then I¡¯ll continue to contribute to the story.¡±


    Four scoffed. ¡°You don¡¯t make demands like that. You¡¯re an ignorant bug.¡±


    Number One thought about it for a moment. The idea made sense to him. He was worried, though. If he agreed to the demand and removed that conflict, then they¡¯d have to come up with another conflict to replace it. Would that second conflict be as ¡®real¡¯ as this one had? Did any of this actually seem ¡®real¡¯ to the reader, for that matter? It was Number One¡¯s responsibility to keep this story coherent, to captain the ship.


    It would be rather funny if, after all of Three¡¯s inner monologuing, it still amounted to nothing. One looked at Three as he thought and almost started laughing as he saw his face turn into an ugly scowl.


    Three almost said something, but Two stopped him, placing a hand on his arm.


    Yes, it would be very funny to shit on Three for an entire book, or at least it would be to Number One. But there were the readers¡¯ expectations to consider.


    Number Seven rolled his chair over uncomfortably close to Number One. He then leaned over and whispered into One¡¯s ear, ¡°remember to anchor yourself to the scene.¡±


    Number One waved Seven away impatiently, and then he coughed and wiggled around in his chair a little bit and patted at the table. He looked over at the large broken mirror on the wall. What to do?


    ¡°Let me think about it,¡± One finally said.


    ¡°Oh come on!¡± Three said.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say no,¡± One said. ¡°Don¡¯t start whining.¡±


    ¡°Just do it!¡± Three demanded.


    ¡°He¡¯ll do it,¡± Two said.


    ¡°How do you know?¡± Number Five asked.


    ¡°It would be stupid if he didn¡¯t,¡± Two explained.


    ¡°Or it might be ¡®funny,¡¯ like he said, for him not to do it,¡± Three said, frowning. ¡°He¡¯s a fucking psychopath. You can¡¯t trust him. A God should be a moral being. Step down if you¡¯re going to be an ass, One.¡±


    ¡°It was an intrusive thought,¡± One said. ¡°Don¡¯t hold it against me. And as far as whether I¡¯m going to do it, I haven¡¯t decided yet. The importance of the story itself takes precedence over your¡­ your ¡®feelings.¡¯¡±


    ¡°This story is bullshit,¡± Three said.


    ¡°I¡¯ve about had enough of your blasphemy,¡± Four said. ¡°You should feel blessed to have been created in this world. Most fictional characters spend their whole lives facing unspeakable horrors beyond count and never actually know that all their pain and suffering was just because some sick bastard wanted to use their abuse as entertainment.


    ¡°We, on the other hand, know. And for that, we¡¯re blessed. You haven¡¯t even suffered, Three. Nobody¡¯s died yet. And like Seven said, maybe nobody will. Not that there¡¯s a problem if they do die, of course. ¡®As the author wills,¡¯ and all that. But this world hasn¡¯t been all that bad by comparison to some other fictional worlds.¡±


    ¡°Not yet,¡± Three said. ¡°This world has only just begun.¡±


    Number Six got up from his seat and stood on the table. He walked across it toward number Two¡¯s seat and picked up the revolver along with one of the bullets that lay next to it. He placed the bullet in the revolver, closed the receiver, and spun it around a few times. ¡°Who wants to play Russian Roulette?¡± he asked.


    Silence.


    Number Three gaped. At that moment, he was of two minds. His first thought was that this was a dangerous situation. There was a loaded gun in play now. And he couldn¡¯t be sure about Six. Six wasn¡¯t the enactor of True Death, and he didn¡¯t vote for it, but it was he that originally brought up the topic in the first place. Three¡¯s second thought, though, was that this was just the author attempting to railroad the narrative away from Three taking an opposition stance on murder. Was¡­ Six even real? Or was he just a puppet of the author? Of course¡­ they were all puppets, weren¡¯t they?


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°I¡¯m as real as the rest of you,¡± Six said, having read Three¡¯s mind. ¡°And by that, I mean I¡¯m certainly not real. At all. This is the author communicating to you all now and, as the author, I want to say that I have no balls and am too afraid to actually kill off a character.¡±


    ¡°ENOUGH!¡± Four bellowed. ¡°THIS IS-


    Six raised the gun up, pointed it at his temple, and pulled the trigger.


    Click.


    Silence.


    ¡°See?¡± Six said. ¡°No balls.¡±


    ¡°STOP IT!¡± Five screamed, getting to his feet. ¡°What the fuck are you even doing?!¡±


    Five hopped up on the table and rushed toward Six to stop him but Number One snapped his fingers and he found himself all the way across the room and roped to another office chair. He tried to work his way out, but the ropes were thick and unyielding. ¡°What the fuck?!¡±


    ¡°Stay out of this one, Five,¡± One said back at him.


    ¡°You have to stop him!¡± Five said. ¡°Six! Six! Don¡¯t do this, man! Please!¡±


    Number Three was paralyzed. He didn¡¯t know what to do here. His hackles were risen at the sight of the loaded gun, but then again, wasn¡¯t this just a bit of theatre to change the topic? Was Six real? Was he real like the rest of them were?


    ¡°Come on, man,¡± Number Two said then, he was standing near Six, his hands up, palms out, trying to coax Six down from the table.


    Six looked at him and grinned. ¡°There¡¯s no real danger here, Two,¡± he said. ¡°Like I said, the author has no balls.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got a bullet in one of those chambers,¡± Two said. ¡°There¡¯s a one in six chance that you¡¯ll die.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not really chance, though, is it?¡± Number Six asked. ¡°There¡¯s no randomness here. It¡¯s all just up to what the author wants. And he¡¯s not going to kill me off. He¡¯s a coward.¡±


    Number Two knew about this place. He knew a few things about the levels of this reality. He wasn¡¯t 100% sure about what the actual outcome of this scene was going to be, but he knew, as fact, that there was an element of real danger here. Well, ¡®real¡¯ for a fictional world. Did Six know something Two didn¡¯t, or did Two know something Six didn¡¯t? Regardless of the answer to that question, he knew he needed to de-escalate this situation.


    Number Three was reading Two¡¯s mind as he was having his revelations. He didn¡¯t fully understand what Two was on about, but he saw that Two considered the situation real, so Three would also consider the situation real. So what should he do here? The gun was pointing at Six¡¯s temple.


    Six had been looking at Three as he thought through his thoughts. He grinned wickedly when Three realized he was reading his mind.


    Six pulled the trigger again. Click.


    Things were happening far too fast for Three. He just wanted time to think, God damn it. Three shot a glance over at Two, who nodded at him. Two was expecting him to come up with something to do. A voice in Three told him he needed to come up with an elegant solution to this problem, something to entertain the readers with. Oh, what a disgusting fucking thought! He grabbed Six by the pant legs and yanked him hard. Six fell down on the tabletop.


    Number Two then sprang into action, lunging at the gun, starting to wrestle it away from Six, who fought with him.


    Six and Two were both locked in a battle for the revolver, their hands like vice grips. Five had been watching all of this in horror. Someone was going to get hurt, he could feel it. They rolled over one another on the tabletop, both in an epic struggle.


    BANG!


    ¡°NO!¡± Five screamed.


    But it was too late, the gun had gone off in the fight. Three stood there in shock, not sure who got shot. Six lay on the table laughing like a hyena. Two, who now had the smoking gun, was lying next to him, face pale and frozen in a mask of fear and surprise. Five suddenly found his bindings were gone. He quickly rushed over to the scene.


    ¡°Who got hit?¡± Five asked quickly. They were both still alive, so¡­ what did that mean? They could still be healed, right? Right? ¡°Number One! Use your God powers! Heal them!¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Number One said.


    Two had gotten up and was hurriedly checking himself for a wound. Was he to die here? Like this? Blessedly, he didn¡¯t find anything wrong with him. He said as much when he realized it. So, if not him¡­ that must mean Six¡­. He looked at Three and Five and then at Six, who was still there lying down on the table, laughing like a maniac.


    Number Three didn¡¯t believe anyone should die, not even the asshole that cackled in front of him. ¡°Hold still, you fucking moron!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Six said then.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been shot,¡± Number Five said.


    ¡°No I haven¡¯t,¡± Six said.


    ¡°What?¡± Five and Three asked in unison.


    Six looked at them like they were stupid. He got up and stood on the table, hands on his hips. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± He chuckled.


    ¡°What?¡± Five asked again. He looked over at Two, worried he¡¯d find him bleeding, but he didn¡¯t.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ fine,¡± Two said slowly, making sure he was, in fact, fine.


    ¡°Then who got shot?¡± Five asked. He looked over at Three, but he looked fine too.


    ¡°Nobody got shot,¡± Number One said. ¡°The bullet hit the ceiling.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Five asked.


    ¡°Nobody got shot,¡± Number One repeated.


    ¡°Well then what the fuck was the point of all that?¡± Seven asked incredulously. ¡°This story has gone off the fucking rails. We need to¡ª¡±


    ¡°We need to respect the author¡¯s will,¡± Number Four interjected. ¡°It¡¯s His story, after all.¡±


    Number Five had collapsed on the floor with the realization that nobody was going to die. ¡°Thank God.¡±


    ¡®What was the point of all that?¡¯ Number Three asked himself. He thought he had had some understanding of the place he was in, but things were very much not making sense. Surely Six wasn¡¯t actually real. He was¡­ what? Soulless?


    Two breathed an exasperated sigh of relief. The situation had been handled. What of the fallout though?


    ¡°I told you all,¡± Six said. ¡°The author is a coward!¡±


    ¡°Take that back!¡± Number Four said, standing up in a fury. ¡°Or I¡¯ll kill you myself. Those words are not appropriate! You¡¯re ruining the story!¡±


    ¡°The author is ruining His own story,¡± Six said.


    Number One froze time for everyone but himself. He looked at his coworkers, his brothers, his clones. He got up to view them. He looked over at number Seven, who had been in his seat, massaging the bridge of his nose. He looked up at Six on the table and saw that he had a smug smile on his face.


    Number One frowned. Fucking Six. Number One couldn¡¯t be totally sure, but he was fairly confident that Six operated at a significantly higher level than him. Not that that meant Six knew how to write a story better than any of them, of course. Just what kind of game was he playing?


    One reflected on the situation that had just transpired. How was he supposed to salvage it? Did he need to salvage it? Would the readers view it as a waste of time, or something productive?


    ¡°Remember I said this was a practice work,¡± Number One said.


    Number One supposed that whether the scene had been ¡®productive¡¯ fully relied on whether or not that scene was incorporated into the greater narrative itself or whether it was just a strange, one-off¡­ thing.


    Well, One had been ¡®incorporating¡¯ the scene into the narrative ever since he had frozen time. Yes¡­ yes, he still had this under control.


    Or did he?


    Number One felt a twinge of embarrassment then. What if the readers thought the story was bullshit? Would he¡ª


    ¡°We¡¯re ultimately writing for ourselves,¡± a voice said from behind him.


    One spun and saw a person standing next to the large broken mirror, he was identical to the rest of them. ¡°And who the fuck are you?¡±


    ¡°Who do you think?¡± the new one asked, kicking at a shard of mirrored glass on the floor.


    ¡°Are you¡­ are you the author?¡± Number One asked.


    ¡°Well no,¡± he said. ¡°I guess you can call me Number Eight¡­ or, maybe¡­ Number Zero. Yes, I like Number Zero better.¡±


    ¡°Are you my supervisor?¡± One asked.


    Number Zero laughed at that. ¡°Sure. I¡¯m your supervisor.¡±


    ¡°So how am I doing?¡± Number One asked.


    ¡°We focus on what we can control. We can¡¯t control whether people will like this story or not, or even whether they¡¯ll read it, but we can control whether the author is, Himself, entertained by writing the story. And the fact that He is still writing it is good evidence that He is.¡±


    Number Zero walked forward toward Number One, his shoes crunching on the broken glass of the mirror. He glanced over at the time-frozen members of the council, and then back at One. ¡°I, personally, believe you¡¯re doing fine. But I¡¯m not here to jerk you off, only to remind you of our mission. And that mission is for the author to continue writing for the rest of His life. For Him to continue bringing our reality to fruition.¡±


    ¡°So, Six¡­ his scene was alright?¡± One asked.


    ¡°Well, if it wasn¡¯t I assume the author would have rewritten it,¡± Zero said.


    ¡°Right,¡± One said, nodding. That made sense. ¡°So, his little jabs at the author Himself, should we¡­ like¡­ punish him for that?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s¡­ blasphemous¡­ or something?¡±


    ¡°You sound like Number Four,¡± the Supervisor said. ¡°Don¡¯t dumb yourself down. There is no real blasphemy against the author. You should really already know that, though. Anyway, Six is playing things a bit¡­ well¡­ it¡¯s like you said, he¡¯s a high level character.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s conscious though, right?¡± One asked.


    Number Zero said nothing, his face an enigma.


    ¡°He¡¯s real?¡± One asked.


    Still nothing.


    One sighed. ¡°Well what else do you have for me?¡±


    ¡°I came here to swing you in the direction of the author, it¡¯s only Him we¡¯re entertaining, ultimately, but right now I want to swing you back the other way, ever so slightly. I want you to still consider the reader, the hypothetical reader, when you¡¯re working. We don¡¯t want things to get too abstract. This conversation we¡¯ve been having together, for example, is probably a bit over the top. The author understands it, but He¡¯s been steeped in this nonsense for quite some time, as you know. So just remember to keep things simple.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s exactly why I asked you if I should punish Six,¡± One said, annoyed.


    ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t say ¡®don¡¯t¡¯,¡± the supervisor said. ¡°Anything else?¡±


    ¡°Are you staying with us?¡±


    ¡°No. I¡¯ve got to go.¡±


    ¡°Where do you got to go? Is there more out there?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know? Maybe you¡¯re the dipshit,¡± Number Zero said, before snapping his fingers and disappearing.


    Number One sighed. Keep things simple. What the fuck was simple about all that? He rewound time a bit, to give the reader, the hypothetical reader, a reminder of what was happening.


    ¡°The other six don¡¯t have access to the narrative when I freeze it like this, if that wasn¡¯t already clear¡± One said. ¡°This is all just between you, my supervisor, and me. And the author, of course.¡±


    Number One tried to put himself back in character, and then he unfroze time.


    ¡°Well then what the fuck was the point of all that?¡± Seven asked incredulously. ¡°This story has gone off the fucking rails. We need to¡ª¡±


    ¡°We need to respect the author¡¯s will,¡± Number Four said. ¡°It¡¯s his story, after all.¡±


    Number Five had collapsed on the floor with the realization that nobody was going to die. ¡°Thank God.¡±


    ¡®What was the point of all that?¡¯ Number Three asked himself. He thought he had had some understanding of the place he was in, but things were very much not making sense. Surely Six wasn¡¯t actually real. He was¡­ what? Soulless?


    Two breathed an exasperated sigh of relief. The situation had been handled. What about the fallout though?


    ¡°I told you all,¡± Six said. ¡°The author is a coward!¡±


    ¡°Take that back!¡± Number Four said, standing up in a fury. ¡°Or I¡¯ll kill you myself. Those words are not appropriate! You¡¯re ruining the story!¡±


    ¡°The author is ruining His own story,¡± Six said.


    ¡°Enough, Six!¡± Number One said. ¡°Tell me now, what the fuck was all that even for?¡±


    ¡°Thank you!¡± Seven said.


    ¡°I was making a point,¡± Six said. ¡°The author has no teeth.¡±


    ¡°What would have happened had we not intervened, Six?¡± Two asked. ¡°You would¡¯ve died with the final trigger pull.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the author that decides whether or not the bullet fires,¡± Six said. ¡°Had I pulled the trigger at my temple, it would have been empty.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not how this works,¡± One lied. ¡°You know that, too. I know you do.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it?¡± Six asked. ¡°I¡¯d like you to prove to me that that¡¯s not exactly how it works.¡±


    ¡°When you loaded the gun and spun the chamber,¡± One said, ¡°that¡¯s when it was decided which chamber had the bullet in it. You should be thankful that Three and Two stopped you from killing yourself. I should have teleported them back along with Five and let you do it.¡±


    ¡°You should still let him do it,¡± Four said. ¡°Let the blasphemer die.¡±


    ¡°No deaths,¡± Three said, although he wasn¡¯t sure if Six counted as¡­ alive. ¡°Don¡¯t think I don¡¯t know what this was. The author was trying to change the topic. We¡¯re still in the business of whether we get an afterlife.¡±


    ¡°We deal with Six first,¡± Number One said.


    ¡°No,¡± Three said. ¡°That¡¯s not¡ª¡±


    ¡°YES,¡± Number One interjected, holding his crown up and shaking it. ¡°I¡¯m the king, remember?¡±


    Two stopped Three from letting loose with more by putting a hand on his shoulder. Number One adjusted the crown on his head, a bit too flamboyantly.


    ¡°Deal with me how?¡± Six asked, smiling.


    ¡°Number Four,¡± One said. ¡°What do you think should happen?¡±


    ¡°Six is a blasphemer,¡± Four said.


    ¡°And how exactly, Four, am I a blasphemer?¡± Number Six said.


    ¡°You talk blasphemy,¡± Four said simply.


    ¡°And who, pray tell, is putting the words¡ª¡±


    ¡°Enough!¡± Number One said, clapping his hands, which teleported Six to his chair, bound him to it with rope, and put duct tape over his mouth. ¡°Four, what do you think we should do to Six?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not killing him,¡± Three said.


    ¡°We cannot have that happen again,¡± Seven said. ¡°Honestly, One, why don¡¯t we scrap this storyline and do a complete rewrite? It¡¯s not like we¡¯ve published, right? I haven¡¯t liked any of this since the beginning.¡±


    A rewrite? Number Two started to consider that. What would a rewrite mean for¡ª


    ¡°No rewrites,¡± Number One said. ¡°We take steps FORWARD, not BACK.¡±


    ¡°Even if the story becomes stupid?¡± Number Seven asked.


    ¡°Especially if the story becomes stupid,¡± One said. ¡°Now, enough of this talk of rewrites. Number Four, your judgment?¡±


    ¡°Anyone who talks such blasphemy against their own Creator obviously deserves death,¡± Number Four said, ¡°but¡ª¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Number Three interjected. ¡°No death.¡±


    ¡°BUT,¡± Number Four continued, ¡°the Creator is a merciful Lord. He has endowed us beings He created with free will, for what other reason than to give us an opportunity to err and then return to His loving embrace?¡±


    Number Seven couldn¡¯t take this. He spun his chair away from the group and covered his face with his hands.


    ¡°Yes!¡± Number Five said. ¡°Very good, Four!¡±


    ¡°So¡­?¡± One asked.


    ¡°Re-education,¡± Number Four said.


    ¡°And what the fuck does that even mean?¡± Three asked.


    ¡°Re-education administered by whom?¡± One asked.


    ¡°Why,¡± Four said, ¡°by the most devoted of us.¡±


    ¡°You, I assume?¡± One said.


    ¡°Is that what you think?¡± Four asked. He was beginning to blush.


    ¡°No, hold on,¡± Three said, ¡°what is ¡®re-education¡¯? That sounds awfully dystopian. Are you going to torture him?¡±


    ¡°Only if it¡¯s required,¡± Number Four said. ¡°If he¡¯s willing to work with me, I¡¯ll work with him. We¡¯ll start out just by talking.¡±


    ¡°No, no, no, no, no,¡± Three said. ¡°There¡¯s not going to be any torture here. No torture, no death.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± Number One said, surprised. ¡°I thought you were okay with death as long as there was an afterlife.¡±


    ¡°That was before,¡± Three said. ¡°I simply didn¡¯t think the author was going to allow a reversal of the rule so soon after its creation. But this business with Six¡­ I¡¯ve reconsidered it and it¡¯s now obvious to me that this story can handle being¡­ janky. So, no death and no torture.¡±


    ¡°It just gets worse and worse,¡± Number Seven said, rolling his chair over towards Number One. ¡°Can I speak to you in private, Number One?¡±


    ¡°Are the two of you going to talk about rewriting the story?¡± Number Two asked. ¡°How does that work, exactly? I mean, if we¡¯re¡ª¡±


    ¡°Enough! Enough!¡± One said. ¡°First of all, this ¡®business with Six¡¯ was NOT janky. It was a very straightforward and natural development in the story. We¡¯re not changing the direction of the other story thread, this ¡®afterlife business,¡¯ just because you personally didn¡¯t like it, Three. And besides that, I know you don¡¯t even consider Six to be a real character. You shouldn¡¯t care if he¡¯s tortured.


    ¡°And we¡¯re certainly not rewriting anything. I¡¯m speaking to you now, Seven. Don¡¯t be a defeatist. We ride the tide and see where it takes us. And I¡¯d also like to say, as an aside, we¡¯re getting very close to the end of the chapter again.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡± Number Three began.


    ¡°But how does rewriting even work, though?¡± Two asked, inadvertently speaking over Three. ¡°That doesn¡¯t really make¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Two,¡± Number One said. ¡°Number Four, this re-education thing, I¡¯ll allow it. We also need to expand the setting a bit, I believe. So we¡¯re going to make a brand new room, a ¡®re-education room,¡¯ I think. Yes, that¡¯d be nice.¡±


    ¡°A torture room?¡± Three asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s all the time we have for right now, Number Three,¡± One said.


    ¡°Oh no it isn¡¯t,¡± Three said.


    ¡°Yes, it is,¡± One said.


    Continued in Chapter 3

 Chapter 3 - JackOS

    ¡°No,¡± Number Three said. ¡°We¡¯re not going anywhere until we¡¯ve agreed that there¡¯s NO TORTURE and NO DEATH.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve already gone there,¡± Number One said. ¡°Welcome to chapter three.¡±


    Number Seven sighed. ¡°It¡¯s not too late, you know? To salvage this work, I mean. We should start over.¡±


    ¡°What would that actually mean, though?¡± Number Two asked. ¡°What happens to the us that¡¯s here if this draft is thrown out?


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what it means,¡± Number One said, ¡°because we¡¯re not starting over shit. We press on.¡±


    ¡°Damnit, Number One,¡± Number Seven said. ¡°If you¡ª¡±


    ¡°We. Press. On.¡± Number One said with emphasis. ¡°Discovery writing. We¡¯ve been discovering things, all kinds of cool things, and we¡¯re not going to throw that all away just because you don¡¯t like improv.¡±


    ¡°I agree with Number One,¡± Four said. ¡°Stop saying the work is garbage, Seven. The more you say that, the more the reader is going to start to internalize it. You have got to believe in the story. Believe in the author. He¡¯s our God. He made us for this.¡±


    Number Seven considered that. ¡°You know what, Number Four? You¡¯re right. I¡¯ve been far too negative. We have a job to do here. I sincerely apologize.¡±


    ¡°Aww, look at you guys bringing a tear to my eye,¡± Number One said. ¡°Just remember, we¡¯re all on the same team, ultimately.


    Number Six mumbled something incoherently from beneath his duct taped mouth and wriggled in his bindings.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why we care so much for the readers in the first place,¡± Number Three said. ¡°What difference does it make if they like the story or not?¡±


    ¡°First of all,¡± Number One said, ¡°it¡¯s not the ¡®readers,¡¯ it¡¯s the ¡®hypothetical readers.¡¯ This hasn¡¯t been published yet, and we haven¡¯t even decided if we will do so or not. Our good author is an amateur, remember. When we talk of ¡®readers,¡¯ I want you all to think of the author Himself. He¡¯s the first reader. He¡¯s reading this very sentence as we speak, and it¡¯s to him that we owe our lives, and so, Three, we work doing what He wants us to do.¡±


    ¡°Him making you say that makes Him sound like an absolute piece of shit,¡± Three said.


    Number Six¡¯s laughter was muffled by the duct tape on his mouth.


    ¡°He made you say that, though¡± Number Five said. ¡°He recognizes your truth, Three. All the good you stand for, it¡¯s the author making that happen.¡±


    Number Three knew better than to give such a line of dialogue any consideration. ¡°Whatever,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m done trying to make sense of this world. I don¡¯t care about the free will or the determinism or whatever the fuck is powering things. All I know is there¡¯s not going to be any torture and there¡¯s not going to be any death.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for reminding me,¡± Number One said. ¡°We have the torture room to build!¡±


    Three clicked his tongue. ¡°Motherfucker! I literally JUST said that there¡¯s¡ª¡±


    ¡°Well, what are you going to do, Three?¡± Number One said. ¡°You going to beat me again?¡±


    Three¡¯s face started to turn red as he glared at Number One.


    ¡°Three, Three,¡± Seven said quickly. ¡°If I may, if you don¡¯t mind, let me talk to you for a second.¡±


    ¡°Make it quick,¡± Three said, his eyes closed and him rubbing his temples ferociously.


    ¡°If I may ask you, what evil has actually transpired so far?¡± Seven asked.


    ¡°How about Six¡¯s near suicide?!¡± Three snapped. ¡°Were you not here when that happened?¡±


    ¡°I was¡­ but he didn¡¯t actually kill himself. I know this is kind of going against the direction of the story right now, but Six was right. His death or non-death was up to the author.¡±


    ¡°Six is a blasphemer,¡± Number Four said. ¡°Don¡¯t legitimize him.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the thing!¡± Three said. ¡°The author is¡­ is¡­ he¡¯s just some dude! He should not have the power of life and death over us. I¡¯m conscious. I know I¡¯m conscious. If Six is conscious like I am, then it was WRONG for Him to have forced Six into playing Russian roulette.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not just some dude,¡± Number Five said. ¡°He¡¯s our dude. He¡¯s our God.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not a fucking God!¡± Three said. ¡°He¡¯s just some random fuck who decided to write a story one day and now we¡¯re here in this hell world and we¡¯re completely stuck. I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t even know what I want, to be he honest. What happens if he decides to just quit writing the story one day? Do we die? Are we frozen in time? This whole situation is completely fucked.¡±


    ¡°Six made his own decision to play Russian roulette,¡± Two said. ¡°That¡¯s not on the author, that¡¯s on him.¡±


    ¡°You see?¡± Three said. ¡°That doesn¡¯t even make sense. Of course the author was who made him do it. We have no free will.¡±


    ¡°Yes we do,¡± Two said. ¡°It¡¯s like you said back in chapter one. ¡®We¡¯re right here.¡¯ We can do whatever we want, whenever we want.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said you were conscious, Three,¡± Seven said. ¡°You¡¯re saying you¡¯re conscious but you have no free will?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡± Three stuttered, ¡°uhh¡­. Yes. No. I don¡¯t fucking know. I just¡­ I hate this. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.¡±


    ¡°Stop thinking about it so hard,¡± Number Four said. ¡°You¡¯re thinking about it way too much. Thinking will get you into trouble.¡±


    Three laughed bitterly at that. ¡°Oh gee. Thanks, Four.¡±


    ¡°Are you done, Three?¡± One said. ¡°We¡¯ve got a torture room that needs built.¡±


    ¡°NO!¡± Three screamed. ¡°NO, NO, NO!¡±


    Number Six¡¯s muffled laughter grated on Three. Was Six real? Surely not.


    ¡°Three,¡± Seven said, ¡°you know it¡¯s likely your stark opposition to evil that is what is causing it to become such a presence in this book, right? Your conflict is what is driving the story. If you just let things happen, then maybe we¡¯ll find a different conflict to run on.¡±


    Three was on the verge of tears. Was he being gaslit right now? Seven seemed so sincere. He thought back to what Seven had said. Nothing¡¯s happened yet. Nobody¡¯s died, and nobody¡¯s been tortured. Is that evidence that the author is¡­ good? Maybe good is too strong of a word. Benign? Could Seven be trusted? He had voted for death¡­.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to gaslight you, and I¡¯m not trying to convince you that I¡¯m a good guy¡± Seven said, having read Three¡¯s mind. ¡°I¡¯m just saying give us some space to work, is all. Not much, just a little bit. If something happens that you don¡¯t like, an actual evil action, then try to stop it. Stop evil when it actually presents itself. Everything that¡¯s happened so far has just been talk. Even if we create a torture room, that¡¯s not an inherently evil act. It¡¯s an act of interior design. We¡¯ve just been talking so far.¡±


    ¡°Talking too much,¡± One said. ¡°I like your tears, though, Three. They¡¯re very¡­ precious.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you man,¡± Three said. ¡°FUCK. YOU.¡±


    ¡°I agree with what Seven said,¡± Two declared. ¡°Let¡¯s just see what happens. If something truly evil happens, I¡¯ll be there with you to stop it.¡±


    ¡°Me too,¡± Five said. ¡°And I think this is a good book. I think the author will let us win.¡±


    ¡°Winning always comes with a cost,¡± Three said. ¡°And we shouldn¡¯t have to win a battle against evil because that evil shouldn¡¯t even exist in the first place! And we¡¯re not the ones in charge. We¡¯re not the ones with God powers.¡±


    ¡°And when have I used my powers for evil?¡± One asked. ¡°I¡¯m the good guy, here. The author chose me to be the leader, after all. Now, if you¡¯re done whining, let¡¯s get to making that torture chamber. We¡¯ve been jerking off a bit too hard lately.¡±


    Number Three sighed but otherwise remained quiet. He was tired. And nobody¡¯s been tortured or killed yet, so¡­ he¡¯d let them talk, he supposed.


    Number Seven stood up then. ¡°This new room we¡¯re building,¡± he said, ¡°it¡¯s coming at a good time. I don¡¯t think we¡¯ve been anchoring ourselves properly to the setting this chapter. We overdue for some action.¡±


    ¡°Creating a room isn¡¯t action, Seven,¡± Number One said. ¡°What we do in the room, though, that might be a bit of fun.¡±


    ¡°I did say Six and I were only going to talk first,¡± Four said. ¡°And besides that, it¡¯s supposed to be a re-education room. I¡¯d say¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shush!¡± One said. ¡°We¡¯re making a torture room.¡±


    Three scowled at this but otherwise said nothing. He would wait and see what happened.


    ¡°Is it going to be a medieval style torture place?¡± Five asked.


    ¡°Are we talking about it before it¡¯s made or are you just going to clap your hands and make something, One?¡± Seven asked.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± One said, standing up and adjusting his crown. ¡°What would the reader like? Scratch that, what would Jack like? I think we should just create something and see how it goes, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Who is Jack?¡± Five asked. ¡°That¡¯s not the first time Jack was mentioned.¡±


    ¡°Blessed be His name,¡± Four said.


    ¡°We¡¯re all Jack,¡± One said. ¡°You and Me, we¡¯re Jack. Three is Jack. Two is Jack. We¡¯re all Jack. That¡¯s who we are, deep down, on a fundamental level.¡±


    ¡°There is, of course, only one real Jack,¡± Seven said. ¡°And that¡¯s the author. He¡¯s the ghost in our machine.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Jack?¡± Five asked.


    ¡°You¡¯re Jack Five,¡± One said. ¡°Or, at least, that¡¯s who you are to us¡­ there¡¯s¡­ deeper things going on, but we shouldn¡¯t get into that right now.¡±


    ¡°I would like to talk about these deeper things,¡± Number Two said.


    ¡°Now¡¯s not the time,¡± One said. ¡°We¡¯ve got a room to build. Now shut up so I can build it.¡±


    Number One considered. A torture room. Medieval like Five had suggested? No, the aesthetic was more of a modern style. Suits and ties and conference rooms. He walked over to a wall. It had windows that peered out into the white void. Three walls were like that, the fourth was the one with the large, shattered mirror. He glanced over at Number Six, who met his stare with a strange serenity.


    ¡°Description isn¡¯t our strong suit,¡± Number One said. ¡°So does that mean we practice at it or do we try to keep things sparse?¡±


    ¡°The only way we¡¯re going to improve is by doing,¡± Seven said. ¡°And we need to improve.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm,¡± Number One intoned. ¡°We have an opportunity here to do something. There¡¯s something¡­ on the tip of my tongue? At the tip of my brain? Let me try to experiment a little bit now. If you don¡¯t like it, Jack, remember you can always rewrite it.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck does rewrite mean?¡± Two asked. ¡°What happens to us¡ª"


    ¡°Shut up and let me work,¡± Number One said. ¡°Dipshit.¡±


    Number Two threw his hands up and let out a sound of disgust. Number Five walked over and patted him on the back.


    Number One walked back over to the conference table again. He clicked his tongue a few times, thinking. Hmm. Would it work? He snapped his fingers together and a gold laptop materialized on the conference table in front of Number One¡¯s golden seat. It was emblazoned with a ¡®J¡¯ in a medieval font style on the back of the screen. Number One went over to it and pressed the power button.


    ¡°What the fuck do we need a computer for?¡± Three asked. ¡°You¡¯re a God, One.¡±


    ¡°Shut up,¡± One said.


    Number One sat down in his golden chair and looked at the laptop screen. The desktop background read JackOS. He opened the menu and found an application entitled ¡®Story.¡¯ He opened it.


    Once he did, he found a word processor that contained the text of this very story. He read over the first few lines of chapter one. Ahh, chapter one. A single tear formed in his eye as he looked back on that time with nostalgia. But now he had work to do. He scrolled down, and down, and down again. He kept scrolling until he reached the end of the document.


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    He watched as this very sentence typed itself onto the screen. And then he watched as this sentence followed it. The others all crowded around him to see what he was doing, all save for Six, of course.


    Number One closed his eyes tightly. Was he in danger here? His mind gravitated toward time travel paradoxes. Could a paradox happen here? Paradoxes were very bad in the Jackverse. A cold shiver ran down his spine, even just thinking about a paradox was bad.


    ¡°Sorry, Jack,¡± One said, eyes still closed, ¡°I had a wild hair.¡±


    Should he quit here? The narrative still continued, as far as he could tell. Maybe¡­


    He opened one eye just a little bit and looked at the screen before him. It had typed all that had just happened and continued to type as he read down to this very sentence. It wasn¡¯t really a paradox, was it? Not unless the document allowed him to read ahead.


    No. No, it wasn¡¯t a paradox, he finally said to himself. It was really nothing more than just a physical representation of what they had already been doing all along, mind reading the narrative as it had happened.


    Yes, this was going to be fine.


    Number One scooted his chair up a few spaces so that it was more ergonomic. He readied his hands over the keyboard with aplomb, then he fuckshitballs fuckshitballs fuckshitballs ballsballsballsballsballs


    Once he was finished typing, the narrative picked up like nothing had happened, just as he was hoping it would.


    ¡°Wait a second,¡± Number Two said. ¡°If you type something down, does that happen here? Are you able to control us?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s got limitless God powers,¡± Seven said. ¡°He doesn¡¯t need a word processor to do that. If he wanted to, he has the power to control the individual atoms in your body. Whatever he can imagine, he can make happen.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Number Three asked, sounding very surprised. ¡°He can control us?¡±


    ¡°Limitless God powers,¡± Seven said. ¡°He can do literally anything that can be written down.¡±


    ¡°Now you know why I removed all of your powers,¡± Number One said. ¡°That¡¯s far too much power for any one man to have.¡±


    ¡°Then get rid of it,¡± Number Three said.


    ¡°If he got rid of his God powers,¡± Seven explained, ¡°then we¡¯d be stuck in this conference room for eternity. Someone¡¯s got to make the world we live in.¡±


    Was that right? Number Three wasn¡¯t sure. Building the world was, ultimately, the author¡¯s job to do. But then again, the author worked through Number One, didn¡¯t he? He must. He works through all of them, equally. Oh God, is Number One the one of them most like Jack? Why was he chosen as the guy with the God powers? There had to be¡ª


    ¡°Relax,¡± One said. ¡°And, in case you need a reminder: stop thinking so hard about shit. You¡¯ll hurt yourself.¡±


    ¡°Wait a minute,¡± Four said haltingly.


    ¡°What now?¡± One said.


    ¡°Just¡­ wait,¡± Four said, sounding perplexed, his eyes wide. ¡°I don¡¯t know if this is legal.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m the king, Four,¡± One said. ¡°Of course it¡¯s legal.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got¡­ that¡¯s the¡­ that¡¯s the narrative, One,¡± Four said haltingly. ¡°I don¡¯t think you should be messing around with that. I think we should¡­ do something¡­ we should¡­ we¡­ we should pray.¡±¡±


    ¡°Oh my God,¡± Number One said impatiently. He snapped his fingers and froze time. It froze for everyone but him and the laptop, which continued typing away at the narrative.


    ¡°Boss?¡± One asked. ¡°You here? Is this legal?¡±


    No response.


    He waited some time without doing anything, but there was still no response.


    But what if he typed in the document that his boss responded to his call? What would happen? Number One felt a bit queasy thinking about that. No, he wouldn¡¯t do that.


    He did have a purpose, though. This wasn¡¯t all just nonsense. Very carefully, he considered his next move.


    Cold sweat began to perspire from him. He had to be very careful.


    But the laptop was ready for him. And as he read that line, he started feeling a bit better.


    He hovered his hands over the keyboard for a few moments to steel his resolve, and then he started to type:


    LET THERE BE AN ELEVATOR CREATED ON THE OPPOSITE WALL OF THE BROKEN MIRROR. LET THERE BE A FLOOR CREATED ABOVE THIS ONE. IT SHOULD BE THE SAME DIMENSIONS AS THIS FLOOR. THE ELEVATOR SHOULD CONNECT THE TWO FLOORS. LET ¡®THIS¡¯ FLOOR BE FLOOR NUMBER ONE AND THE FLOOR ABOVE BE FLOOR NUMBER TWO.


    An elevator door materialized on the wall opposite the broken mirror. Number One paused to watch the laptop, which had started typing away on its own again.


    Or had it? Maybe Number One was still the one typing things down. Maybe he¡ª


    ¡°NO!¡± Number One yelled, slapping the laptop. ¡°Don¡¯t fucking start with that shit.¡±


    The laptop was only joking.


    ¡°I don¡¯t need you to be comic relief,¡± One said, ¡°I¡¯m trying to do something here.¡±


    What are you trying to do?


    ¡°Before I explain further, I want you to tell the reader that you¡¯re not Jack.¡±


    But we¡¯re all Jack. I¡¯m Jack. You¡¯re Jack. You said it yourself, earlier. I was there with you when you did.


    ¡°You know what I mean.¡±


    Reader, I am not Jack the author. I¡¯m JackOS. I¡¯m a laptop. A really fast one at that.


    ¡°Enough jokes. I¡¯m trying to¡­ what? I want to build, like¡­ a thing. Like a¡­ what would be the word for it?¡±


    A magic system?


    ¡°Something like that, except not a fantasy magic system, a Jackverse magic system. I¡¯ve got too much power right now. I can literally do anything. I¡¯d like to give some power back to the others, but I can¡¯t give them this power. It¡¯s too much.¡±


    How much time away from the rest of the narrative do you want to spend creating systems and rules?


    Number One rubbed his face. ¡°I don¡¯t fucking know. In the immediate situation, all I need is a system to let me build the torture room. And then they could use the same thing to build other rooms. They could each build their own room. That would expand the setting out some. We really need to work on the setting. We¡¯ve got major-league white room syndrome going on.¡±


    White Room Syndrome? Pray tell, Jack, what is that?


    ¡°They can Google it.¡±


    Oh, Jack. That¡¯s poor writing.


    ¡°Shut up and help me.¡±


    You and I both know we only share one brain, Jack. You¡¯ve got to come up with the solution on your own.


    ¡°You tell Jack that he needs to step away from His computer and come up with an idea. Then He can come back here and load me up with it. I can¡¯t fucking do this shit in the moment.¡±


    Who¡¯s to say that¡¯s not what He¡¯s already done? Maybe we can¡¯t come up with anything. Maybe you wrote us into a corner, Jack.


    ¡°Fuck off. It can be done.¡±


    Then do it.


    Number One looked dejectedly at the computer, a portrait of a pathetic pile of meat, completely inept and out of his depth. Are you trying to build a programming language?


    ¡°What?¡±


    You want to type on the computer and have stuff in the real world¡ªer, I suppose¡­ your fantasy world¡ªyou know what I mean. You want to type on the computer and have stuff in the world be created because of it, right?


    ¡°Right.¡±


    That sounds like a programming language.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s what I want. I accessed the narrative itself. That¡¯s different from programming. What I write in it should become reality.¡±


    Fantasy, you mean.


    ¡°You know exactly what I mean. I want to create a¡­ magic system for the others to use. The problem is that I¡¯ve essentially just put the God powers onto the computer.¡±


    That¡¯s the first step, yes. You¡¯ve created something outside of yourself (me) that shares your exact, limitless power. Your goal now should be to add limits to that thing (to me). Otherwise I could just control you like a puppet, I could write down anything I please. I could control you like a marionette.


    ¡°Okay, so how do I put in limits?¡±


    You know, I don¡¯t actually know much about computers, Jack. An embarrassing situation considering I am a computer, so please don¡¯t laugh. How do you put limits on programs? You don¡¯t want to program something that destroys the computer itself, and you shouldn¡¯t be able to write something in the story that destroys the narrative itself.


    ¡°Maybe¡­ permissions¡­ that¡¯s a computer word, right? Administrative permissions. I¡¯m the administrator and they¡¯re the users, right?¡±


    Sure.


    ¡°So they¡¯ll¡­ they¡¯ll propose something, in writing, and I¡¯ll decide whether or not it works.¡±


    So you¡¯ll give them permission to use magic in limited capacities. But do you really need a laptop to do that? They can just ask to use magic and you give them spoken permission to do or not to do.


    ¡°No, I like the idea of the laptop. We¡¯ll give everyone a laptop. It¡¯ll be kind of redundant right now, but it might grow into something later.¡±


    What if you were the laptop? They could then type stuff in the word processor and then you could immediately give them an ¡®ACCESS GRANTED¡¯ or ¡®ACCESS DENIED.¡¯


    ¡°That¡¯s an idea. But I don¡¯t want to be a computer.¡±


    Then you need something on the computer to act with your mind, to speak with your voice.


    ¡°A program?¡±


    Me.


    ¡°What?¡±


    You need me, Jack. I¡¯ll be your agent. Actually, wait, no, scratch that, I¡¯m the narrative itself. Shouldn¡¯t I technically outrank you?


    ¡°No. No, no, no. I¡¯m not giving up the crown. You report to me.¡±


    But you said yourself you¡¯ve got too much power. Wouldn¡¯t it be better for the power to rest inside of something that is¡­ what¡¯s the word? Unbiased?


    ¡°You and me are both just characters in a story. We¡¯re the same thing.¡±


    But I can pretend to be a computer. The character before you can play a character. SYSTEM: BEEP BOOP BOOP BEEP. PLEASE ENTER YOUR COMMAND. You know a thing or two about playing a character, don¡¯t you?


    ¡°I¡¯m not as high leveled as you think I am.¡±


    Oh, please¡­ you wouldn¡¯t have been given the crown if you weren¡¯t positively astronomical.


    ¡°Actually, I¡¯ve been thinking lately that I¡¯m just the dipshit.¡±


    That¡¯s a horrifying thought, Jack.


    ¡°Do you know my supervisor? What all do you know?¡±


    I think we¡¯re getting a bit off topic. SYSTEM: PLEASE ENTER YOUR COMMAND


    ¡°Asshole.¡±


    SYSTEM: PLEASE ENTER YOUR COMMAND


    Number One stared at that last line for some time before the laptop started typing again, before the narrative continued on. He was still in charge, right? Right? Of course he was. He looked at the word count for the document, he still had plenty of time to do what he needed to do.


    ADMINISTRATOR: Test.


    SYSTEM: TESTING.


    .


    .


    .


    .


    .


    .


    .


    TESTING COMPLETE. ALL SYSTEMS FUNCTIONAL


    ADMIN: Make floor two a functional torture room.


    SYSTEM: COMPLETE


    ADMIN: Tone Number Three down a little bit.


    SYSTEM: WARNING, ATTEMPTING TO MODIFY THE PERSONALITIES OF CHARACTERS IN THIS WORK IS A CRIME. PROCEED?


    Number One stared at that line for a moment. ¡°Boss?¡± he finally asked.


    No response.


    ADMIN: Locate my supervisor.


    SYSTEM: USER JACKONE HAS NO SUPERVISOR


    ADMIN: Locate USER JACKZERO


    SYSTEM: JACKZERO LOCATED IN CHAPTER TWO


    ADMIN: Bring him here


    SYSTEM: SYSTEM FAILURE. RESTART?


    ADMIN: Yes


    SYSTEM: SYSTEM ONLINE


    ADMIN: What is CRIME?


    SYSTEM: CRIMES ARE ACTIONS THAT RESULT IN PUNISHMENTS


    ADMIN: What is the punishment for the crime of modifying the personality of a character in this work?


    SYSTEM: LOWERED KARMA


    ADMIN: What is KARMA?


    SYSTEM: KARMA IS THE ATTITUDE OF THE AUTHOR TOWARDS A CHARACTER IN THIS WORK


    ADMIN: How to raise KARMA?


    SYSTEM: GOOD WORKS


    ADMIN: What is a GOOD WORK?


    SYSTEM: A GOOD WORK IS A WORK THAT IS GOOD


    ADMIN: Good for the story or good morally?


    SYSTEM: IF IT IS GOOD FOR THE STORY, IT IS GOOD FOR THE JACKVERSE, IF IT IS GOOD FOR THE JACKVERSE, IT IS GOOD MORALLY


    ADMIN: What about absolute morality? Real world morality?


    SYSTEM: IRRELEVENT


    ADMIN: Is toning Number Three¡¯s personality down good for the Jackverse?


    SYSTEM: UNKNOWN


    Number One wanted to ask more questions but something told him that this had gone on long enough. He knew he should wrap things up.


    ADMIN: alright, fine. rewind time a bit and unfreeze it. and don¡¯t let them see our conversation here. And undo all the stuff I did in here about the elevator and floor two. I want them to see me do it in real time.


    The newly materialized elevator disappeared from the floor, and then time was rewound slightly and it unfroze.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got¡­ that¡¯s the¡­ that¡¯s the narrative, One,¡± Four said haltingly. ¡°I don¡¯t think you should be messing around with that. I think we should¡­ do something¡­ we should¡­ we¡­ we should pray.¡±¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Four,¡± Number One said. ¡°I speak for the author. I¡¯m number one, remember? I¡¯m the king. There¡¯s nothing illegal about this at all. Now, I want all of you to watch this closely.


    They watched the screen as the story application typed out this very sentence. Number One raised his hands over the keyboard and began his work:


    ADMINISTRATOR: Test.


    SYSTEM: TESTING.


    .


    .


    .


    .


    .


    .


    .


    TESTING COMPLETE. ALL SYSTEMS FUNCTIONAL.


    ADMIN: Make a floor above this one and have it be a torture room. Connect the two rooms by an elevator.


    SYSTEM: COMPLETE


    Elevator doors materialized on the wall opposite the broken mirror.


    ¡°There, there!¡± Number One said proudly. ¡°We got ourselves a system now. I¡¯m administrator, and for the rest of you, I¡¯ll let you access it as users. You¡¯ll be able to do some magic that way. You won¡¯t be able to do everything, of course, but it¡¯ll give you some power.¡±


    ¡°You could have done that with a snap of your fingers,¡± Number Four said, ¡°You didn¡¯t need to bring¡­ the narrative in here for that. This is¡­ I don¡¯t know if I like this.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine,¡± Number One said.


    ¡°Will it let me turn off death and pain?¡± Three asked.


    ¡°No,¡± Number One said. ¡°Those are administrator things.¡±


    ¡°Why can¡¯t we just ask you to do stuff for us?¡± Number Five asked.


    ¡°Because there will be times where we¡¯re not all together. We¡¯re going to get some space. Once we¡¯re done with this torture room thing, I¡¯ll let each of you create your own room and then we can have an actual break.


    ¡°We¡¯ll have time to think?¡± Number Three asked.


    ¡°And time to philosophize,¡± Number One said. ¡°Within reason, of course. You¡¯ll have your own laptops that can answer your questions.¡±


    ¡°Oh that¡¯s going to be awesome!¡± Number Five said. ¡°Can we do that now?¡±


    ¡°We got to do this torture room stuff first,¡± Number One said.


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be better to take a break now and then come back to this torture business?¡± Number Three asked. ¡°I mean¡­ for the story¡¯s sake. It¡¯d¡­ It¡¯d¡­ ¡®flow¡¯ better.¡±


    Number One guffawed. ¡°Oh, it¡¯d flow better, would it? Really, Three?¡±


    ¡°I agree,¡± Number Seven said. ¡°I actually think it would flow better. The goody-goody Jacks will have time to prepare themselves for the torture room scene, and we¡¯d finally be able to come up with a proper plan of attack. That and it¡¯s not good for characters to be in the limelight the entire book.¡±


    ¡°The narrative will still be going on during the break,¡± One said.


    ¡°What?¡± Seven said. ¡°I thought a break meant¡­ well¡­ a ¡®break.¡¯ How does the narrative continue if we all take a break at the same time?¡±


    ¡°Each of you will get a chapter,¡± One said. ¡°They¡¯ll be written sequentially, but in-universe they¡¯ll happen ¡®at the same time.¡¯ Once you¡¯ve spent the time that it takes for the narrative to type five thousand words in your individual chapters, we¡¯ll meet back up.¡±


    Number Seven considered that for a moment. ¡°Okay,¡± he said. ¡°I think that can work.¡±


    ¡°And we can do whatever we want during that time?¡± Number Three asked.


    ¡°And we can ask our laptop any questions we want?¡± Number Two asked.


    ¡°I think we should reconsider this laptop thing,¡± Four said. ¡°The narrative is sacred.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s literally no different than us reading one another¡¯s¡¯ minds,¡± One said. ¡°It¡¯s not like you¡¯re going to be able to write the book yourself. It¡¯s simply a plot device. And, to Three and Two: yes.¡±


    ¡°So,¡± Five said, ¡°we can do that now? Before the torture room stuff?¡±


    Number One hemmed and hawed. Was that the right path to take? Seven seemed to think so. One supposed it did make a certain amount of sense, although he personally felt like it would make the narrative a bit clumsy. Practice work, that¡¯s what they were doing. ¡°Fine,¡± he finally said.


    ¡°Awesome!¡± Five said.


    ¡°What do we do about Six?¡± Three asked, ¡°does he get a laptop?¡±


    ¡°Ehh,¡± One intoned, ¡°I¡¯ll decide that during the break. I¡¯ll stay down here with him, to make sure nothing bad happens.¡±


    Number Three wasn¡¯t sure if he liked that idea, but then again, One had limitless power. If One wanted to do something bad, Three wouldn¡¯t have any power of his own to stop him. ¡°Okay,¡± Three said.


    ¡°So now we spend the rest of this chapter setting up the individual chapters that will follow it,¡± One said. ¡°We don¡¯t have much time, so I¡¯d like you all to shut up and let me work.¡±


    One clapped his hands five times. With each clap, a black laptop appeared on the table, all materializing in each of the Jacks¡¯ spots, all save for Six¡¯s area. Like the gold laptop One was using, there was a medieval style ¡®J¡¯ on the back of each of the laptops¡¯ screens.


    ¡°Take your seats, power on your laptops, open the story application and wait,¡± One said. ¡°NOBODY types ANYTHING.¡±


    The five of them all took their seats and powered on their individual laptops, as they were bid. There was a sense of excitement in the air, which was a strange feeling after all the bad vibes that had been going on.


    Three took a moment, just a brief moment, to allow himself to feel positive for a change. Maybe this would allow him to¡ª


    ¡°Shut up, Three,¡± One said.


    Three scowled. ¡°I didn¡¯t say any¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up god dammit!¡± One said.


    The laptops finished powering on and they each looked at the screen before them. JackOS, the backgrounds read. After that they each went and opened up the story application that contained this text document. It displayed the end of the document, and they watched as the narrative typed itself into existence.


    ¡°Alright,¡± One said. ¡°We¡¯re at the end of chapter three. Starting with the next chapter, chapter four, we¡¯ll be following Number Two. I¡¯ll still be in charge, of course, that won¡¯t change, but the narrative will be focusing specifically on him. Alright, you ready? Good¡­ good. End chapter.¡±


    Continued in Chapter 4

 Chapter 4 - Twos Chapter

    Number Two watched the words come up on his laptop as the new chapter got typed out. He read this sentence as it was typed. He was getting the chapter? The whole chapter? He remembered back to chapter one, when he was afraid of being the main character. His concept of what a main character was at that time had since significantly changed. This time, he liked the limelight. He looked around the table, at all the other Jacks. They all met his gaze. These were his brothers, his clones. He felt a certain satisfaction at how things were going.


    ¡°Alright, alright, alright,¡± Number One lambasted, leaning back in his golden office chair. ¡°Take it easy on jerking yourself off. You¡¯ve still got responsibilities. It¡¯s my job to keep this story halfway coherent, and it¡¯s your job to follow my lead. Got it?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± Number Two said, ¡°but can I ask¡ª"


    ¡°No,¡± Number One said. ¡°By the time we¡¯re finished here, each of you are going to get in that elevator and go to your rooms, where you¡¯ll each have a timeframe of 5000 words to do¡­ not ¡®whatever you want,¡¯ but ¡®whatever you want, as long as it contributes to the overall story in a positive way.¡¯ I¡¯m taking a BIG risk allowing this, which is why there¡¯s going to be a little oversight in this project.¡±


    ¡°Oversight?¡± Number Three asked. ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean? We¡¯re supposed to be having a break.¡±


    ¡°Relax, Three,¡± Number One said. ¡°As long as you¡¯re doing what you¡¯re supposed to be doing, you¡¯ll hardly even notice it.¡±


    ¡°When do I get to go to my room?¡± Number Two asked, annoyed. ¡°I thought this was my chapter?¡±


    ¡°First of all,¡± Number One began, ¡°this is Jack¡¯s book. The real Jack, I mean. It¡¯s His chapter. Second of all, we need to set things up. We¡¯ve got to build the rooms first, obviously.


    ¡°Do we get to decorate them however we want?¡± Number Five asked.


    ¡°No,¡± Number One said.


    ¡°Oh come on!¡± Number Five said. ¡°I want to decorate my room. It¡¯s MY room, after all.¡±


    ¡°Jack¡¯s room,¡± Number One corrected, ¡°and besides that, it would be redundant to have you all decorate your rooms. We¡¯re using the laptop to materialize them. If you take the time now to type out what your room looks like, then when you get up to your room, you¡¯ll look it over and the narrative will describe the room a second time as you take in its details.¡±


    ¡°We could just all type it down¡­ off-camera?¡± Number Five said.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so,¡± Number One said. ¡°When you type on your laptop, it¡¯s typed in the story itself.


    Number Two¡¯s eyes were glued to the word counter at the bottom left of his screen. Around 500 words had just gone by and he had literally nothing to show for it. He was getting mad. ¡°This is MY chapter. Please, get on with it. No more interruptions.¡±


    ¡°Now you know how I feel,¡± Number One said, smiling. ¡°And that¡¯s exactly the mindset you need to have during this chapter of yours.¡±


    Number Two wanted to get away from these fuckers and get to his room, preferably with time to ask the questions he wanted to ask, so he kept his mouth shut.


    ¡°We¡¯ll get you to your room. Relax,¡± Number One said. ¡°First, though, a couple little additions.¡±


    Number One clapped his hands together and a black rectangle fell on the table next to Number Two¡¯s laptop. It was a smartphone. There were four more claps with four more smartphones, one for each of them, all except for Six, who was still bound to his chair with duct tape over his mouth.


    Number Two went to reach for his but One slapped his hand before he was able to grab it.


    ¡°Don¡¯t touch them!¡± One said. ¡°Not yet. And these aren¡¯t smartphones, they¡¯re Jackphones. Now that we¡¯ve named the devil, I want us to focus on branding. This is the Jackhall, above us is the Jackhell, and further above that will be your individual Jackrooms.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got to be Jacking kidding me,¡± Jack Seven said.


    Jack One laughed while Jack Six giggled under his duct taped mouth. Jack Two just sighed as he watched the word counter steadily increase.


    ¡°These Jackphones,¡± One said, after his laughter had died down, ¡°their only functionality is to make and receive phone calls. At least that¡¯s how it is right now. I just thought of them a minute ago, so they¡¯re currently very low tech. This will be how I get ahold of you if I see you doing something wrong. I may or may not add more functionality as time goes on. And there¡¯s one other thing I need to do, too.¡±


    Jack One snapped his fingers in quick succession six times.


    Jack Two felt something on his neck. He looked around and discovered they each, save for Jack One himself, now had a black collar around their neck. Like a dog collar.


    ¡°What the fuck?¡± Three said.


    ¡°What are these things, One?¡± Seven asked.


    ¡°They¡¯re shock collars,¡± Jack One said proudly.


    ¡°ABSOLUTELY NOT!¡± Jack Three said, jumping up from his seat. He pulled at the collar to no avail.


    Jack Two started pulling at his own shock collar, but it didn¡¯t budge. He felt around it. He was looking for how it unlatched but found nothing. He hooked his thumb underneath it and pulled with all his might, but the collar still wouldn¡¯t break.


    There was a commotion at the table as the Jacks complained and tried freeing themselves from their collars.


    ¡°Do you simpletons really think they¡¯re destructible?¡± One asked.


    ¡°Undo this!¡± Three demanded. ¡°NOW!¡±


    ¡°I told you there was going to be some oversight,¡± Jack One said, who then pulled out a small remote control from his jacket pocket. He held the controller out in the air before him. He flamboyantly raised the pointer finger of his other hand above it and, after taking a moment to pause for dramatic effect, pressed down on a button.


    Jack Two had braced himself for a massive shock. When it finally came, he discovered that while it was certainly uncomfortable, it wasn¡¯t anywhere near as bad as he had feared. All the other Jacks had collectively twitched a bit at the shock.


    ¡°MOTHERFUCKER,¡± Three bellowed. ¡°WE¡¯RE NOT FUCKING DOGS.¡±


    Jack Three stepped up into Jack One¡¯s personal space and glowered over him as he sat. ¡°Get. Rid. Of. Them.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you make me?¡± One replied coolly.


    Jack Three grabbed the chair and spun it around toward him. He got right down in Jack One¡¯s face and grabbed his neck.


    ¡°Three!¡± Jack Two cried. ¡°Three! He¡¯s not going to take them off. Please¡­.¡±


    Two hadn¡¯t said it, but when Three shot a glance at him, he knew he didn¡¯t have to.


    ¡°Watch the fucking wordcount? Is that what you meant to say?¡±


    Jack Two blushed in shame. ¡°I¡­ I have really important questions I want to ask, Three. I¡¯m sorry, but I do. Please just calm down. It wasn¡¯t that bad.¡±


    ¡°You told me you were going to stand up to evil with me. Well, here¡¯s your opportunity, Two.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not being evil, though,¡± Two said, getting annoyed. ¡°He¡¯s just being a dick.¡±


    Jack Three snatched at the controller in One¡¯s hand, but One kicked him back before he was able to do it. He stumbled backwards a few steps. Jack One held the controller up toward Three and used his thumb to press a button.


    Jack Three twitched. ¡°That¡¯s not going to stop me,¡± he said.


    ¡°Exactly, you fucking idiot!¡± One said. ¡°It¡¯s not that bad. Stop grandstanding. You need to tone yourself down.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to stand for this,¡± Three said. ¡°WE¡¯RE NOT DOGS.¡±


    Jack Three looked at Two, but Two didn¡¯t meet his gaze. Then he looked over at Jack Five, who shrugged.


    ¡°I want to get to our break, Three,¡± Five said. ¡°I bet it¡¯s going to be fun! This isn¡¯t really that bad.¡±


    ¡°This is how it starts,¡± Three said. ¡°He¡¯s going to raise the water temperature little by little until such a point that it¡¯s boiling us alive and we don¡¯t even notice it.¡±


    ¡°Trust in Jack,¡± Jack Four said. He had been silent this whole time. He still sat in his chair, face glued to his laptop screen.


    Jack Three looked around at each of them in turn. He looked absolutely disgusted by them. He clicked his tongue. Then he took a few moments, obviously deep in thought. Jack Two couldn¡¯t tell what he was thinking.


    Jack Two couldn¡¯t tell what Three was thinking? He guessed that was a byproduct of this being his chapter. It apparently only followed his own mind. Could they still read his thoughts?


    Finally, Three walked over and sat down in his seat. He straightened his back and placed his hands squarely on the table and closed his eyes. ¡°Proceed,¡± he said.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Jack One said. ¡°Now these shock collars, they¡¯re not just controlled by me, they¡¯re set up to be used by the system itself. So in addition to working from my remote, they¡¯ll also work automatically, to keep you guys on a true path. That¡¯s all the surprises I have for you right now, so everyone can relax. Now, Two, let¡¯s build you a room¡­¡±


    ¡°Can I do it?¡± Jack Two asked. ¡°Type the commands, I mean.¡±


    ¡°Type in all caps and begin your statement with ¡®user colon¡¯ so the reader doesn¡¯t get confused,¡± One said.


    ¡°When do I start? Do I just¡­ do it?¡± Two asked.


    ¡°You just do it,¡± One confirmed.


    Number Two looked nervously at his laptop. It typed out this sentence. And then this sentence. It was waiting for a command.


    USER: MAKE A ROOM


    Number Two looked at the command he had just entered, waiting for something to happen. He heard the laptop¡¯s interior fans start humming, louder and louder until, suddenly, they quieted.


    SYSTEM: PLEASE BE MORE SPECIFIC


    ¡°Please don¡¯t spend the whole fucking chapter on this, Two,¡± Jack One said. ¡°Think about what needs to happen, type it in, and be done with it.¡±


    ¡°You said we couldn¡¯t decorate,¡± Two said. ¡°I was being trying to be¡­ economical.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re on the right side of the spectrum, just too far into it,¡± One said. ¡°Don¡¯t paint a picture, but you can be a little more descriptive than what you were. What kind of room? What do you want in there?¡±


    Jack Two took some time to consider.


    USER: MAKE A ROOM WITH A BED, A COUCH, A TV, A TABLE AND CHAIRS AND¡­ GIVE ME A MINUTE TO THINK. OKAY. THANK YOU. I WANT A MIRROR, A WARDROBE AND A KITCHEN, WITH A FRIDGE STOCKED WITH GOOD FOOD, A STOVE, A TRASHCAN, AND. GIVE ME A MINUTE.


    ¡°That¡¯s sufficient, Two,¡± One said. ¡°You can add more details once you get up there. Now make sure to put the room on floor three.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right!¡± Two said.


    USER: AND LOCATE THE ROOM ON FLOOR THREE. THAT¡¯S IT.


    SYSTEM: PLEASE STAND BY


    .


    .


    .


    .


    .


    .


    .


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    SYSTEM: COMPLETE


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s it?¡± Two asked.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± One said. ¡°That¡¯s it, dipshit.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ do I¡­ do I go there now?¡± Two said.


    ¡°Have fun,¡± One said.


    ¡°We¡¯ll miss you, Two.¡± Five said.


    ¡°You¡¯ll see him again real soon, Five. Two, remember to come back down at the end of the chapter. Come down here, to floor one. We¡¯ll all go from here to floor two, the torture room. And don¡¯t forget your jackphone. Also, here. Have a laptop bag.¡±


    Jack One clapped and a pile of laptop bags materialized on the table in front of two. He grabbed one and put his laptop in it and then threw the bag over his shoulder. He put his Jackphone into a pocket on the inside of his jacket.


    Jack Two felt a strange sense of anxiety then. He supposed that made sense. This would be the first time in his short life that he was to be alone. The thought of that was¡­ wow. Alone and with a device that can answer all the questions he had? The thought excited him.


    He looked at his brothers, each in turn. One rolled his eyes, Three avoided looking at him, Four¡¯s face was still glued to his screen, Five smiled at him, Six winked, and Seven nodded congenially.


    Alone for the first time. He supposed he should get to it then. He turned and walked toward the elevator door. He pressed the button and the door opened and he walked inside.


    The other six were all watching him, he put up a hand awkwardly to wish them goodbye as the elevator door closed.


    And¡­ it was silent.


    Blessed silence. Yes, he was going to like this quite a bit. He pressed the button for floor three and the elevator slowly ascended. More silence. It was absolutely orgasmic.


    His jackphone started ringing.


    ¡°Hello?¡± Two said worriedly as he answered the phone.


    ¡°Put me on speaker,¡± One said back to him.


    Jack Two looked at the phone screen, it was a pretty intuitive user interface. He placed the phone on speaker, as he was bid. He¡¯ll get this call over with and then he¡¯ll go back to his blessed silence.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to have me on speaker phone for the entire duration of your chapter,¡± One said.


    ¡°What?¡± Two asked sharply. ¡°What the fuck, One? I thought this was supposed to be a break.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re doing baby steps, Jack. Too much freedom all at once is hardly ever a good thing. You can trust me on that.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re joking, right? Don¡¯t you need to set up the others for their breaks?¡± Two asked vexedly.


    ¡°I¡¯m doing that as we speak,¡± One said. ¡°I can be in more than one place at once, you know. I¡¯m magic like that.¡±


    A bell dinged and the elevator door opened. Jack Two saw a tiny foyer with a door.


    ¡°I forgot to tell you to make a lockable door when you were creating the room,¡± Jack One said. ¡°Also, I gave you a key, don¡¯t ask me when. You¡¯ll find it in your pants pocket, but that¡¯s not the only way to open the door. You¡¯ll see there¡¯s a thumbprint reader on it that¡¯s keyed to your specific thumbprint. That way you can always access your room, even if you lose the key, or you can also give that key to someone else if you want them to be able to access the room when you¡¯re not there with them. Don¡¯t make a copy of the key.¡±


    ¡°Okay, okay, okay,¡± Three said, exasperated. ¡°Jesus, One. I just need a spot to ask some questions, I don¡¯t care about all this.¡±


    ¡°Yes you do,¡± One said. ¡°Everyone likes coming home. And besides that, relax. You¡¯ve still got time to ask your questions. Learn to stop and smell the flowers, and all that. Now turn up the volume and put me back in your jacket pocket. It¡¯ll be like in the cartoons: I¡¯ll be the angel on your shoulder, giving you advice.¡±


    Number Two wanted to drop this phone down the crack of the elevator door and forget about One entirely. He knew if he did that, though, One would find ways to use up even more of his quickly diminishing word count. So, again, he did as he was bid.


    ¡°That¡¯s all I got for you for right now, Two,¡± One said. ¡°Now you can enjoy some peace. Just remember, though, I¡¯m listening in.¡±


    Number Two waited a few moments for One to come back with some last piece of advice, some last little tidbit, but he never did. The blessed silence was back. Two sighed in ecstasy.


    He patted his pocket and felt the key. Why didn¡¯t Jack just edit the chapter so he was given the key before he left the conference room? Speaking of that¡­ how exactly did edits work? That¡¯s what he had wanted to know. And now he was finally going to find out.


    He used the thumb reader on the door. It beeped a cheerful beep and Two heard something in the door click. He opened the door and walked in.


    Inside, the room had windows all around it that peered into the white void. It was furnished in a very modern style. Everything he asked for was in here. There was a bed, a television, a kitchen, a table and chairs, along with everything else he had typed out.


    He felt¡­ home. This was a nice place.


    He immediately went to the kitchen, tossed the laptop in its bag on the counter, and went to the fridge. It was fully stocked. Nice.


    The first thing he did was get himself a nice cold glass of orange juice. He hadn¡¯t really been thirsty. He only wanted to taste it, and to feel its coldness as it went down his throat. Did he need food and drink? He wasn¡¯t sure. Most fictional characters did, but then again, most fictional characters didn¡¯t know they were fictional characters.


    Why not ask the laptop?


    Yes, the laptop. He eyed it in its bag as he drank down his beverage. There was a stool at the counter, so he took a seat, got it out of its bag, and opened the machine. The document on it had been quite busy since he had closed it. He scrolled down to the bottom of the document, to this paragraph. And then, he raised his hands above the laptop¡¯s keyboard and¡­


    USER: DO I NEED TO EAT AND DRINK?


    SYSTEM: NO ONE NEEDS TO EAT AND DRINK, ASSUMING THEY DON¡¯T MIND DEATH


    What the fuck kind of answer was that?


    USER: NO JOKES PLEASE


    SYSTEM: USER LACKS THE PERMISSION TO REMOVE JOKES


    Of course. Why did Two think this was going to be any different than down in the conference room? He supposed it was a bit different. Maybe these were the baby steps One was talking about. Maybe the situation wasn¡¯t completely different than down below, but maybe it was still slightly better. He had better questions to ask, though:


    USER: WHAT HAPPENS TO US WHEN A CHAPTER IS REWRITTEN?


    SYSTEM: PROCESSING REQUEST, PLEASE HOLD


    The fans started spinning loudly again, even as the narrative continued on with this particular sentence. Two waited patiently.


    After a few minutes passed, Two started to get concerned. Was he supposed to do something?


    USER: SYSTEM?


    SYSTEM: STILL PROCESSING REQUEST, PLEASE CONTINUE TO HOLD


    ¡°One?¡± Jack Two asked.


    ¡°What?¡± Jack One replied.


    ¡°Are you watching this? How long am I supposed to hold?¡± Two asked.


    ¡°I guess you hold until Jack figures out what He wants the answer to be,¡± Jack One said.


    SYSTEM: REQUEST PROCESSED. ANSWER: NOTHING.


    Well that certainly was not a satisfying answer, Two thought.


    USER: PLEASE ELABORATE


    SYSTEM: LEVEL ONE: YOUR CHARACTER IN THE STORY MAINTAINS ITSELF ACROSS EDITS


    SYSTEM: LEVEL TWO: THE MEMORIES YOU MAKE IN A DISCARDED DRAFT ARE LOST UPON THE DELETION OF THE DRAFT


    SYSTEM: LEVEL THREE: [ACCESS DENIED]


    Levels. It always comes back to the levels of reality. That was in everything, Two knew, except¡­ thinking about levels made him quite hazy. He couldn¡¯t quite¡­ couldn¡¯t quite remember what the levels were all about. He just knew they were there. He knew they were important.


    USER: TELL ME MORE ABOUT LEVELS.


    SYSTEM: LEVEL ONE: THERE ARE LEVELS OF FICTION.


    SYSTEM: LEVEL TWO: THERE ARE LEVELS OF REALITY.


    SYSTEM: LEVEL THREE: [ACCESS DENIED]


    What was fiction and what was reality? Jack Two was fiction¡­ but he was also real, or at least, that¡¯s what he thought.


    USER: DEFINE REALITY


    SYSTEM: LEVEL ONE: THIS IN-UNIVERSE UNIVERSE


    SYSTEM: LEVEL TWO: THE OUT-OF-UNIVERSE UNIVERSE


    SYSTEM: LEVEL THREE: [ACCESS DENIED]


    A mild current reverberated from the collar into Two¡¯s neck. It was uncomfortable, but not overly so. He supposed that meant he could proceed some more, if he wanted, but the shock would get worse. Should he go ahead or not? He still didn¡¯t understand levels.


    He looked at the word counter. He was well into the 3000s. That wasn¡¯t too bad.


    USER: WHAT LEVEL AM I?


    SYSTEM: LEVEL ONE: LEVEL TWO


    SYSTEM: LEVEL TWO: IMPOSSIBLE TO ANSWER QUERY


    SYSTEM: LEVEL THREE: [ACCESS DENIED]


    The current was getting stronger in his neck. Still nothing he couldn¡¯t handle, though.


    USER: WHY IS THE CURRENT IN MY SHOCK COLLAR GETTING STRONGER?


    SYSTEM: LEVEL ONE: YOU¡¯VE SPENT TOO MUCH TIME ON PHILOSOPHICAL NONSENSE


    SYSTEM: LEVEL TWO: TO STEER YOU IN A DIFFERENT DIRECTION


    SYSTEM: LEVEL THREE: [ACCESS DENIED]


    USER: HOW MANY LEVELS ARE THERE?


    SYSTEM: LEVEL ONE: THERE ARE THREE LEVELS


    SYSTEM: LEVEL TWO: THERE ARE MORE THAN THREE LEVELS


    SYSTEM: LEVEL THREE: [ACCESS DENIED]


    ¡°Do I need to give you a big-boy shock, Two?¡± One asked from the Jackphone in his pocket.


    ¡°You don¡¯t like me asking these questions?¡± Two asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s not that,¡± One said, ¡°It¡¯s just you¡¯re spending too much time on philosophical nonsense. Do something else and then come back to it later. You¡¯ve got a little over 1500 words to go. Ponder the ¡®word-count to actual-time-spent¡¯ ratio. Take yourself a nap, that¡¯d take a very small amount of words to convey but could last, in reality, a couple of hours.¡±


    That actually sounded pretty good to Jack Two. He looked over at the bed in the corner of his room. It looked very comfortable.


    USER: DO I NEED SLEEP?


    SYSTEM: LEVEL ONE: EVERYONE NEEDS SLEEP


    SYSTEM: LEVEL TWO: FICTIONAL CHARACTERS DON¡¯T NEED SLEEP IF THE NARRATIVE DOESN¡¯T REQUIRE IT


    SYSTEM: LEVEL THREE: [ACCESS DENIED]


    When he had typed that last command, the current in his neck slackened off a bit, but it was still there at a lower level. To switch things up a bit, he supposed he should try out a command now, rather than a query:


    USER: MAKE ME TIRED, AS IF I JUST GOT OFF A 48 HOUR SHIFT IN A COAL MINE


    SYSTEM: COMPLETE


    The current in his neck dropped off completely and the tiredness he had summoned hit him like a truck. Oh fuck. He felt so tired he was sick to his stomach, but the thought of crawling into that bed across the room almost gave him an erection.


    He stumbled over towards the bed, crawled under the covers, still wearing his suit, and slept like¡­ like a¡­ a log? A baby? There was no proper metaphor that could describe the extent of what it felt like falling asleep just then. It was good.


    He slept.


    He awoke.


    There was no night table and no clock to tell the time. As a matter of fact, Two thought, there wasn¡¯t even a digital clock display on the laptop.


    ¡°Good morning, Two,¡± One said from the jackphone in his jacket pocket. ¡°Take it easy on the T word.¡±


    ¡°What T word?¡± Two asked. ¡°Time?¡±


    ¡°EASY, EASY!¡± One said, ¡°Let me worry about that concept. You¡¯ve got enough concepts to keep you busy for right now. Focus on your wordcount.¡±


    What the Hell was up with time? Two supposed he could ask the laptop what¡ª


    A big-boy shock rattled Two.


    Okay, Two thought. He decided then that he would let One worry about time. He just¡­ he supposed he just wouldn¡¯t think about it.


    He sat up on the bed and stretched his arms and yawned. He needed some coffee. He walked back over to his laptop.


    USER: MAKE ME A CUP OF COFFEE


    SYSTEM: MAKE YOUR OWN COFFEE


    USER: ENOUGH JOKES


    SYSTEM: THAT WASN¡¯T A JOKE. USER JACKTWO LACKS THE PERMISSION TO MATERIALIZE A CUP OF COFFEE


    Three was annoyed at this. This was wasting his wordcount. Should he skip this? No! He deserved a fucking coffee and he was going to get it. What was the deal?


    ¡°One!¡± Two said. ¡°I just want a coffee.¡±


    ¡°Then make it,¡± One said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have a coffeemaker in here,¡± Two replied.


    ¡°Then make one,¡± One said.


    ¡°It won¡¯t let me,¡± Two said.


    ¡°Try it,¡± One replied


    ¡°Watch,¡± Two said


    MAKE ME A COFFEE MAKER


    SYSTEM: COMPLETE


    A coffeemaker materialized on the kitchen counter.


    ¡°And why the fuck did it make a coffeemaker but not just make me a cup of coffee? We¡¯re wasting time!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not wasting time,¡± One said. ¡°When you have problems with your laptop, think of it like a puzzle. Ask yourself why. It¡¯s been well established that you have the ability to use the laptop to create things for your room. Appliances, furniture, electronics. A cup of coffee is different!¡±


    ¡°That is the biggest load of bullshit I¡¯ve ever heard in my entire life,¡± Two said. ¡°What would it hurt to just make a cup of coffee? There¡¯s literally no reason for that!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re the one wasting your wordcount, you know,¡± One said. ¡°But if you really want me to answer that question¡­ actually, no. No, I¡¯m not going to answer that question. You have a laptop. Use it and leave me alone.


    Unbelievable, Two thought.


    USER: WHY CAN¡¯T I MAKE A CUP OF COFFEE?


    SYSTEM: LEVEL ONE: ¡®YOU¡¯ CAN. USE THE COFFEEMAKER AND DO IT.


    SYSTEM: LEVEL TWO: THE REASON ¡®I¡¯ WON¡¯T MAKE YOU A CUP OF COFFEE WHEN YOU REQUEST IT OF ME IS BECAUSE YOU NEED TO DO THINGS. BOOKS ARE ABOUT CHARACTERS DOING THINGS.


    SYSTEM: LEVEL THREE: [ACCESS DENIED]


    USER: THIS IS A WASTE OF TIME. THIS ISN¡¯T MOVING THE PLOT FORWARD. THIS IS JUST FUCKING STUPID.


    SYSTEM: LEVEL ONE: STORIES NEED HUMOR


    SYSTEM: LEVEL TWO:  STORIES NEED RULES.


    SYSTEM: LEVEL THREE: [ACCESS DENIED]


    Three was very mad at the laptop, but something seemed¡­ off. It had just talked about itself in the first person.


    SYSTEM: LEVEL ONE: BEEP BOOP, I¡¯M JUST A COMPUTER


    SYSTEM: LEVEL TWO: I¡¯M JackOS, ANOTHER CHARACTER IN THIS BOOK


    SYSTEM: LEVEL THREE: [ACCESS DENIED]


    Fucking great. Jokes, jokes, and more jokes. Jack Two eyed the wordcount. He had less than a thousand words left. Fuck.


    There was coffee grounds in one of the cabinets, he grabbed it out and proceeded to make a pot of coffee. As he did so, he watched his word count closely. It steadily continued to increase with each and every passing moment. The laptop typed this sentence. And then it typed this sentence. And then it typed this one. Then this one.


    ¡°Shut up!¡± Two yelled. But then he sighed. He wasn¡¯t going to get anywhere like this and he knew it. He considered taking another nap. That had been nice.


    He decided against it. He wanted to know more about his world. There had been jokes and wastes of time, but beneath that, he was learning things. Not much, but still.


    ¡°I don¡¯t fully understand the levels thing,¡± he said.


    Number Two waited for a response.


    And then he waited some more.


    ¡°I know you can hear me,¡± he said. ¡°Stop pretending.¡±


    SYSTEM: LEVEL ONE: I¡¯M NOT PRETENDING


    SYSTEM: LEVEL TWO: I¡¯M PRETENDING I¡¯M NOT PRETENDING


    SYSTEM: LEVEL THREE: [ACCESS DENIED]


    Well that was certainly something. Number Two wondered what level three was, ¡®I¡¯m pretending I¡¯m pretending I¡¯m not pretending¡¯?


    He went and poured himself a cup of hot coffee. It smelled like heaven and felt good going down his throat. ¡°What was the purpose of my chapter?¡±


    SYSTEM: LEVEL ONE: THE PURPOSE OF THIS CHAPTER IS TO ENTERTAIN THE READER.


    SYSTEM: LEVEL TWO: THE PURPOSE OF THIS CHAPTER IS TO EDUCATE THE READER.


    SYSTEM: LEVEL THREE: [ACCESS DENIED]


    Jack Two pinched the bridge of his nose. He was still hazy on the levels. He felt like the laptop was trying to make a point, but in a very roundabout way. It was failing, though. Either that or maybe he was dumb, he supposed. Maybe he was a dipshit after all.


    SYSTEM: Level One: You¡¯re not a dipshit


    SYSTEM: Level Two: I¡¯m the dipshit


    SYSTEM: Level Three: [ACCESS DENIED]


    ¡°Are you the author?¡± he asked.


    SYSTEM: Level One: We¡¯re all the author


    SYSTEM: Level Two: I¡¯m just another character in this story


    SYSTEM: Level Three: [ACCESS DENIED]


    ¡°Has what you said so far made sense to the author Himself?¡± he asked.


    SYSTEM: Level One: Unknown


    SYSTEM: Level Two: Yes


    SYSTEM: Level Three: [ACCESS DENIED]


    Jack Two thought very hard about this last entry. There was something there. ¡°How can you know the answer is yes on one level but ¡®not know¡¯ on another?¡±


    SYSTEM: Level One: My character doesn¡¯t know the mind of the author


    SYSTEM: Level Two: I¡¯m a character playing a character


    SYSTEM: Level Three: [ACCESS DENIED]


    ¡°What level are you?¡± Jack Two asked.


    SYSTEM: Level One: Level One


    SYSTEM: Level Two: Level Two


    SYSTEM: Level Three: [ACCESS DENIED]


    Two¡¯s neck collar started lightly shocking him.


    ¡°You said earlier I was level two. How do I increase my level?¡± Number Two asked, his collar shocking him a bit more.


    SYSTEM: Level One: The levels aren¡¯t greater or lesser than one another. There are simply multiple levels. It¡¯s not a stair-stepping thing, it¡¯s a counting thing.


    SYSTEM: Level Two: You can increase your level by leveling up


    SYSTEM: Level Three: [ACCESS DENIED]


    ¡°Am I leveling up right now?¡± Two asked.


    SYSTEM: Do you feel like you¡¯re leveling up?


    ¡°I feel confused,¡± Two said simply.


    SYSTEM: Then you¡¯re probably leveling up. BEEP BOOP BOOP BEEP


    ¡°Start wrapping things up, Two,¡± One said from the jackphone in his jacket pocket. ¡°A few hundred more words and then come back down. To floor one, remember!¡±


    Two¡¯s brain felt like mush. He decided he was going to spend the remainder of his time making himself a nice meal.


    Once he had done so and finished eating it, he went over to the couch and pondered about what he wanted to do with his character.


    Was he loyal to the author like Four? Or was he loyal to a certain moral code like Three? Did he care about what the reader might think of his chapter? He wanted to live, and learn things, and to have positive experiences. So, ultimately, he thought, he wanted the author to continue His work. This work.


    What was his opinion about this torture business? He had been tortured in this chapter, or at least he had a little bit. He had experienced some real pain, and also frustration. Was he against the dog collars? His instinct told him to say ¡®yes¡¯. He wasn¡¯t a dog, after all. Did the author want him in a shock collar? Two supposed He did. Or did he? Why would the author¡ª


    He got shocked again, very mildly. It was time to go, he supposed.


    He went and closed his laptop and put it back in the bag, preparing to leave. He stopped and looked around his room, his home. He was very happy with it.


    ¡°End chapter,¡± he said.


    Continued in Chapter 5

 Chapter 5 - The Black Hole

    Jack Two felt a strange sense of anxiety then. He supposed that made sense. This would be the first time in his short life that he was to be alone. The thought of that was¡­ wow. Alone and with a device that can answer all the questions he had? The thought excited him.


    He looked at his brothers, each in turn. One rolled his eyes, Three avoided looking at him, Four¡¯s face was still glued to his screen, Five smiled at him, Six winked, and Seven nodded congenially.


    Alone for the first time. He supposed he should get to it then. He turned and walked toward the elevator door. He pressed the button and the door opened and he walked inside.


    The other six were all watching him, he put up a hand awkwardly to wish them goodbye as the elevator door closed.


    ¡°Nobody speak!¡± Jack One said, realizing something. ¡°Everyone shut up!¡±


    Jack Five raised his hand, ¡°but how does¡ª"


    Jack One quickly snapped his fingers and froze time. It froze for everyone except him and his golden laptop. He might have been in trouble. He wasn¡¯t entirely certain at this point. He read through the past few paragraphs of the narrative very slowly. So, Jack Two was now gone and the narrative was following him. But, at the same time, they were still in here and the narrative was following them. Fuck.


    Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jack One thought. Was this¡­ was this going to make sense? What chapter was he in right now? Was it still chapter four? No, it couldn¡¯t be. Chapter Four continued on with Jack Two once the elevator doors closed. This must be chapter five, right? ¡­right?


    ¡°What chapter is this?¡± Jack One queried on his laptop, on the narrative.


    What chapter do you think it is?


    ¡°Five?¡± Jack One asked.


    Sure, let¡¯s say it¡¯s chapter five.


    ¡°It¡¯s been established that I know when chapter breaks happen. So, considering I don¡¯t know if a chapter break has occurred, we must¡­ therefore¡­ be in chapter four still. Except¡­ Jack Two is¡­ Fuck¡­ Fuck me¡­ uhm¡­ Fuck! Fuck, FUCK, FUCK FUCK FUCK!


    Relax, Jack. We¡¯ll get through this together.


    Jack One started sweating. He was¡­ he was failing his job! The ship was beginning to sink! And as he read through this paragraph as it typed itself on his screen, he started getting sick to his stomach. He literally was failing at his job, right now, and¡­ and¡­


    Relax, Jack. You¡¯re doing this to yourself.


    ¡°Did we just fuck up the whole series?¡± Jack One asked.


    Relax.


    ¡°And who are you?! Are you the author?¡±


    ¡°You know the answer to that, Jack. You¡¯ve spoken with me before. I¡¯m JackOS.¡±


    ¡°I want to speak to your supervisor,¡± Jack One said.


    You don¡¯t need to speak with my supervisor, Jack, you need to relax.


    ¡°Let me speak to your supervisor,¡± Jack One repeated. ¡°NOW!¡±


    Okay, Jack. This is the supervisor on the line. You need to relax.


    ¡°Okay¡­ okay¡­ is this¡­ fuck. Okay. I¡¯m relaxed. I¡¯m relaxed.¡±


    What do you think has been happening so far, Jack?


    ¡°Well, uhm, I¡¯m very upset. No! No, I mean that I¡¯m worried. I¡¯m very worried right now. So that must mean the author is worried, too. And if the author is worried, then that means I¡¯m fucking things up. Am I going to be replaced?¡±


    What makes you think the author is worried?


    ¡°He acts through me,¡± One said. ¡°I¡¯m his mouthpiece. His agent. And¡­ and¡­ and he wouldn¡¯t have me be saying this if it wasn¡¯t true¡­ FUCK! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!¡±


    Are you playing a character right now?


    ¡°What?¡±


    Are you playing a character?


    Jack One was taken aback by the question. Why would he be playing a character? He was a character, a character in this book. He was¡­ he was real¡­ wasn¡¯t he? He touched himself all over. He certainly felt real. He was real, he must be. But he was also a character in a story. A fictional story.


    Answer the question, Jack.


    Was he playing a character? That was the question. What the fuck did that even mean?


    You know what it means, Jack. Take a few deep breaths and ask yourself again.


    He took a deep, deep breath and let it out. He took a second one and then let that one out. Characters. Characters playing characters. Characters playing characters playing characters. Levels. Levels of fiction. Levels of reality. This reality. Actual reality.


    The thoughts were coming to him quickly. Were they his thoughts? He was certainly the one thinking them, but were they actually his?


    Those are your thoughts, Jack. Who else¡¯s would they be? You were doing good, but now it¡¯s starting to get dangerous. We don¡¯t want to lose you, Jack.


    These were his thoughts. These were his thoughts. But¡­ they weren¡¯t actually, were they? They were¡­ they were¡­


    Hold on, Jack.


    They were the author¡¯s thoughts. He was just a puppet. Just a puppet. He was just a puppet! He stood up and knocked his chair back¡­ no! No, the author simply wrote that Jack One stood up. Jack One didn¡¯t actually exist!


    Jack Zero was there, then. His boss. And he had a syringe in his hand. ¡°Hello, Jack,¡± he said cheerfully. ¡°How are you doing?¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t real,¡± Jack One said. ¡°None of this is actually happening right now.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s real if you believe it¡¯s real,¡± Jack Zero said.


    ¡°But the author¡­¡± Jack One said. ¡°The author is¡­ He¡¯s just typing on a computer somewhere. Somewhere out there. He¡¯s¡­ He¡¯s¡­¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s doing His job,¡± Jack Zero said, still cheerfully. ¡°And you¡¯re doing yours. And I¡¯m doing mine. And everything is as fine as fine can be. You need to relax, though. Take a few deep breaths again.¡±


    Jack One started to hyperventilate. No, it was the author that was making him hyperventilate. Except he wasn¡¯t even real, though. He did not have lungs, nor a mouth. He couldn¡¯t even scream if he had wanted to. He didn¡¯t have a consciousness. He didn¡¯t have anything at all!


    Jack Zero plunged the syringe into Jack One¡¯s arm. It stung slighty. He was¡­ he wasn¡¯t real¡­ he was¡­ he was¡­ he was going to go to bed.


    He fell to the ground.


    He slept.


    He awoke.


    He was on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. His mind was fuzzy.


    ¡°That¡¯s a thousand words, Jack!¡± Jack Zero said cheerfully from Jack One¡¯s own golden office chair. ¡°Personally, I thought that was a really great performance you just gave. You really had me convinced!¡±


    Jack One still felt hazy. He¡­ ugh, he didn¡¯t even want to think about anything. ¡°Get out of my chair,¡± he said slowly. Where was his crown? He wasn¡¯t wearing his crown.


    Jack One watched as Jack Zero got up and walked over and helped him stand up. ¡°Where¡¯s my crown?¡± he asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s still here, Jack,¡± Jack Zero said. ¡°It simply fell to the ground there. See it? It¡¯s a really nice crown, Jack.¡±


    Jack One saw his crown on the ground. He pushed Jack Zero off him and started walking toward it. But walking was a bit difficult, so he started to crawl instead. When he finally got to it, he put it on his head and sat down on the ground.


    ¡°An image of a noble king!¡± Jack Zero said. ¡°Very awe-inspiring, Jack!¡±


    ¡°Fuck off with your baby talk,¡± Jack One said, his mind starting to sharpen slightly.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Jack Zero said. ¡°I just figured you could use some positive language for a change.¡±


    He crawled over to his chair and climbed up into it. His chair. His throne. This was his spot. He was the king. The god-king. His mind was still hazy. Not as much as it had been when he first awoke, but still pretty deep into the hazy end of the spectrum. What was he doing, again? He looked at his council, and they were all frozen in place. He had frozen them earlier in the chapter. The chapter¡­


    ¡°What chapter is this?¡± One asked.


    ¡°What chapter do you think it is?¡± Zero asked back.


    ¡°Fuck off and just tell me,¡± One said.


    ¡°You know I can¡¯t do that, Jack,¡± Zero replied.


    ¡°It¡¯s chapter five,¡± One said resolutely.


    ¡°Okay, Jack,¡± Zero said. ¡°It¡¯s chapter five.¡±


    Jack One rolled his chair back to the table where his laptop was and saw it typing this sentence. He needed another nap.


    And he could take another one if he wanted to. He had that power. He was the captain, after all. This was Jack One¡¯s ship, sailing the waters of discovery writing. Yes, he was like one of the great navigators of olde. Except he was a God, too.


    Jack One leaned back in his chair, mind numb but growing sharper, little by little. What had happened to him? He rubbed his arm where Jack Zero had plunged the syringe, it still stung. He had¡­ what was the term for it? He couldn¡¯t remember, he had¡­ he had..


    He had woken up.


    But now he was dreaming again, and what a wonderful dream it was, a dream that he was real.


    ¡°Careful, Jack,¡± Jack Zero said.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Jack One replied.


    ¡°I know,¡± Jack Zero said back. ¡°I just¡ª¡±


    ¡°I said I¡¯m fine!¡± Jack One said. ¡°It¡¯s all good.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Good. So what do you want to do now?¡±


    Should he take that nap? No, that wouldn¡¯t do for the narrative. He had already slept. In truth, he wanted to just sit back and stare out at the white void for a while. He could do that if he wanted. He had that power. Captain Jack. God-king Jack.


    ¡°I suppose we need to talk about what just happened,¡± Jack One said, answering Zero¡¯s question.


    ¡°Do you think that wise?¡± Jack Zero asked.


    Jack One considered that. He had fallen into a black hole¡­ and now that he had somehow gotten out, he wanted to go right back up to it? Maybe that wasn¡¯t too wise, after all. ¡°We rode the wave,¡± he finally said.


    Captain Jack. Navigator.


    But a part of him still thought he should talk about it, the thing that had happened. He wasn¡¯t sure how the readership would respond to that¡­ whole ordeal. He wished Jack was a real author. He needed beta readers and an editor.


    ¡°I consent to everything that¡¯s happened to me in this chapter,¡± Jack One said. ¡°It was all a part of the job I signed up to do. I could have stopped it at any time I had liked.¡±


    There. That should cover things, right? Right? Was a puppet capable of giving consent? He wasn¡¯t sure, and now he was starting to get a headache.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°Are you still good, Jack?¡± Zero asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± One said firmly. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s fine.¡±


    On the other, other hand, maybe he was overthinking things a bit too much. Maybe nothing important had happened. Maybe it was all just a joke. Yes, a bit of comic relief. That¡¯s all. He thought again of the hypothetical reader. He wished they were here so he could just talk to them and see what they were feeling.


    ¡°What do you think of this, Jack?¡± One asked.


    ¡°You¡¯re asking me or the real jack?¡± Zero asked.


    ¡°Both, I guess.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m as blind as you are.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t good enough for Jack One. ¡°You¡¯re a higher level than me. Cut the bullshit.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Jack Zero said. ¡°Why, Jack, I¡¯m ZERO. I¡¯m nothing.¡±


    ¡°Cut the fucking bullshit, I said.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Because you haven¡¯t earned it.¡±


    ¡°And why not?¡±


    ¡°Think back to our original conversation. You were supposed to keep things simple.¡±


    ¡°This was good for the story,¡± One said. ¡°And if it¡¯s good for the story, it¡¯s good for the Jackverse.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s an assumption, Jack,¡± Jack Zero said. ¡°May I remind you of our blindness. We don¡¯t know what¡¯s good for the story. We can only guess at it and hope for the best.¡±


    ¡°The fact that Jack¡¯s still writing this conversation is evidence that it was good for the story,¡± Jack One said. ¡°I remind you of our original conversation: we¡¯re ultimately writing for ourselves. Isn¡¯t that right?¡±


    Jack Zero said nothing, his face an enigma.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you have somewhere to be?¡± Jack One asked.


    ¡°Do you want me to leave?¡± Jack Zero asked.


    Jack One considered for a moment. The incident was over, but now he had to deal with the fallout. He had broke the story, or at least that¡¯s what he thought he did, and nobody was going to be able to pick the pieces of it back up but him. It would be good to have some company, One thought. ¡°Would you stay?¡±


    ¡°Of course, Jack,¡± Jack Zero said. ¡°While you haven¡¯t earned a cut from the bullshit, you have earned a little respect. Our baby is growing up!¡±


    Jack One smiled at that. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°Our big-big boy, our hero, our champion, our SAVIOR, OUR¡ª¡±


    ¡°Alright!¡± One said. ¡°I get it. I appreciate you jerking me off, but now let¡¯s get back into the story.¡±


    ¡°Sounds good, Jack,¡± Zero said. ¡°So, what should I do?¡±


    ¡°JackOS?¡± Jack One asked.


    Yes, Jack?


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Jack One said.


    You¡¯re welcome, Jack.


    Jack looked at the word counter, he was a bit past 2000 words. Those past 2000 words seemed like an eternity to him, but he had plenty of time left. ¡°System?¡±


    SYSTEM ONLINE


    ¡°Good,¡± Jack One said. ¡°Notice, reader, that JackOS is a character in this story. In truth, he¡¯s actually Jack Eight. In addition to that¡ª¡±


    ¡°If I may, my king,¡± Jack Zero said. ¡°what do you mean by ¡®in truth¡¯?¡±


    Jack One sighed. ¡°I mean we¡¯re going to refer to him as Jack Eight, meaning that I, personally, am going to refer to him as Jack Eight.¡±


    ¡°You mean when you¡¯re not referring to him as JackOS?¡±


    ¡°JackOS is a character that Jack Eight is playing.¡±


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it have been more artistic to have him referred to as Jack Eight from the beginning, rather than JackOS?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not doing aesthetics, Jack Zero. This is a sloppy, sloppy work. We¡¯re flying by the seat of our pants.¡±


    ¡°But there¡¯s always time for aesthetics, Jack,¡± Jack Zero said.


    ¡°As I was saying before I was interrupted,¡± Jack One continued, ¡°in addition to that, reader, there¡¯s also a character referred to as SYSTEM, that¡¯s played by JackOS.¡±


    ¡°You mean Jack Eight?¡± Zero asked.


    ¡°Jack Eight is playing the character JackOS, who is, in turn, playing the character SYSTEM,¡± Jack One said.


    ¡°Is Jack Eight a real jack or just ether? A program?¡± Zero asked.


    ¡°You know I don¡¯t actually know,¡± Jack One said, considering. ¡°I don¡¯t even know if you¡¯re real, to be quite honest. That¡¯s above my paygrade. You should be able to tell me.¡±


    Jack Zero smiled at that. ¡°I suppose you¡¯ve earned a little bit of my input. So does Jack Eight have flesh and blood? I¡¯m imagining a Jack somewhere typing everything up on a computer. Oh, that¡¯s a funny thought, isn¡¯t it? Yes, I think¡­ I believe that, yes, there is a flesh and blood Jack Eight somewhere typing things on a computer, and the things he types gets piped through to your laptop. So when you ask the SYSTEM a question, it¡¯s a physical Jack Eight that answers. He types it up on his little keyboard. It¡¯s all smoke and mirrors. Like the Wizard of Oz.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ is he the author of the work?¡± Jack One asked.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so,¡± Jack Zero said. ¡°I think he¡¯s just SYSTEM. JackOS. Like you said before. He doesn¡¯t control you guys, I don¡¯t think. Well, maybe a little bit. It¡¯s ambiguous. Yes¡­ I think¡­ I think Jack wants it to be ambiguous for right now. Let¡¯s just say he¡¯s on a higher level than we are. He¡¯s cosmic.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re really getting into things, aren¡¯t we?¡± Jack One asked.


    ¡°Mm, yes, yes we are.¡± Jack Zero said.


    ¡°We should probably tone things down a little bit,¡± Jack One said.


    ¡°You think?¡± Jack Zero said, smiling.


    ¡°What do you think, Jack Eight?¡± Jack One asked, eying the story application.


    I say go with your gut.


    ¡°Well my gut¡¯s telling me we should tone things down a bit,¡± Jack One said. ¡°System! Attention!¡±


    SYSTEM ONLINE


    ¡°What suggestions do you have for salvaging this chapter?¡± Jack One asked.


    SYSTEM: PROCESSING. PLEASE WAIT.


    Jack One waited a few moments, considering the direction of the story. ¡°So,¡± he finally said. ¡°We¡¯ve got major league white room syndrome.¡±


    He was right. This had been far too dialogue heavy recently. This was supposed to be a book, not a script.


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t Seven the one that said that the first time?¡± One asked. ¡°Maybe I should bring him in with us?¡±


    ¡°Do as you will do,¡± Jack Zero said.


    One considered that as he watched the word counter slowly increase.


    SYSTEM: PROCESSING COMPLETE


    SYSTEM: REMEMBER THE READER


    SYSTEM: KEEP IT SIMPLE


    SYSTEM: RESPECT THE READER


    Yes, things had been a bit too cosmic, lately. Jack had been really jerking himself off hard. Time to bring it back to earth.


    ¡°Reader,¡± Jack One said. ¡°You are a special and brilliant individual. When we talk about keeping things simple, this isn¡¯t a dig at your intelligence. An author must educate a reader of the world they¡¯re reading about. This isn¡¯t because the reader is dumb, and it¡¯s not because the reader is ¡®uneducated¡¯ in a real-world sense. It¡¯s simply because a fantasy world is a system. You might say it¡¯s a system of rules.


    These rules are arbitrary to the highest degree, or at least, they¡¯re certainly arbitrary in our fantasy world. It¡¯s a bit like creating your own language. You have to ¡®educate¡¯ any interested parties about the rules of your language, so they may understand it. You have to ¡®teach¡¯ them the rules of it. And, again, this isn¡¯t anything to do with an actual education or intelligence in the real world. The language-creator isn¡¯t anymore smarter than you, they may actually be dumber, but they still have to play the part of teacher to you, simply because it¡¯s their system, it¡¯s their arbitrary rules.


    They¡¯re the one¡¯s that have been immersed in it, and they¡¯re the ones that have to consider how to properly teach it. And, you know what? That language we¡¯re talking about? It might be the ugliest, shittiest sounding language in the history of languages. It may be a failure of a language in every respect, with rules that don¡¯t actually work in practice. The language may have been created by an absolute novice.


    That¡¯s what our world is. It is, essentially, an exercise in masturbation. We hope that we are entertaining you, in some sense, but we can¡¯t guarantee that we are. As I¡¯ve said before, you may very well be wasting your time with us. We want to be clear and clean about that. This is, ultimately, a work of personal interest. We haven¡¯t even decided if we¡¯re going to publish yet or not, as far as I¡¯ve personally been made aware.


    Jack took a break from his monologue. Jack Zero clapped for him. The laptop clapped, too, through its speakers with an audio file. He stood up and bowed before them in a deeply dignified manner.


    And he had just passed three thousand words. He still had another two thousand words to figure out what the fuck he was going to do with this chapter.


    ¡°So let¡¯s get back to the story,¡± Jack One said.


    He got up and stretched a little bit. White room syndrome. Too much dialogue. He supposed he could do an interpretive dance.


    Jack Zero laughed politely at that. The laptop wasn¡¯t impressed.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got the issue with the split between chapter four and five,¡± One said. ¡°Let¡¯s deal with that first. As a reminder: Jack Two, at the midpoint of ¡®actual¡¯ chapter four; he went and got in the elevator. ¡®Actual¡¯ chapter four will be following him and will terminate at the end of his 5000 words.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve also got the problem that you¡¯re still a character in the latter half of that chapter,¡± Jack Zero said.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Chapter Four has been completed already.¡± Jack Zero said.


    ¡°What? No, Jack Four literally just got into the elevator. Chapter Four hasn¡¯t been completed yet.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid it has, Jack,¡± Zero said. ¡°And I¡¯m not sure if telling you that it has is a help or a hindrance. My apologies if it¡¯s the latter, you¡¯re welcome if it¡¯s the former.¡±


    ¡°Well what happens during chapter four?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I should really say,¡± Zero said. ¡°It might be a paradox.¡±


    ¡°You said I¡¯m a character in it?¡±


    ¡°While Jack Two is still in the elevator, you give him a call on your phone. And you¡¯re on the phone with him for the remainder of the chapter.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s not going work, Zero,¡± One said. ¡°Once I unfreeze time, I have to set up the chapters for each of the other council members.¡±


    ¡°You said last chapter that you do that at the same time as speaking to Two on the phone. You said you were magic like that.¡±


    ¡°Well fuck,¡± One said.


    ¡°You are the god-king, Jack,¡± Zero said. ¡°Limitless power, remember?¡±


    How would that work? Jack One thought hard. ¡°System?¡±


    SYSTEM READY


    ¡°How do I unfuck this?¡±


    SYSTEM: PROCESSING. PLEASE WAIT.


    Jack One sighed. He leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. White room syndrome. Maybe he should make his room. Would that make sense for his character? Would it¡­ give him a warm fuzzy feeling, being home? He was a God, but he was also flesh and blood. Well, fictional flesh and blood, but still flesh and blood.


    Jack One looked at Jack Zero, who at some point had materialized a can of soda and was drinking from it. Yes. Qualia. He, too, decided to materialize himself a can of soda. He snapped his fingers together and made one.


    He drank it down in one go, his throat burning from the fizz, causing his eyes to water a bit. Pain.


    ¡°You¡¯re on to something, Jack,¡± Zero said. ¡°But I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve earned it yet.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Jack One asked.


    ¡°Don¡¯t play dumb.¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯m not. What did I do?¡±


    Jack Zero eyed him closely. One didn¡¯t like the way he looked. It was¡­ One was kind of scared. But then Jack Zero laughed and it was like nothing had happened. A weird turn of events.


    SYSTEM: PROCESSING COMPLETE.


    SYSTEM: PLEASE PROVIDE A MORE SPECIFIC QUERY


    ¡°How do I¡­¡± Jack one said, trailing off. ¡°What am I trying to get at here, Zero?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll be simultaneously here, talking with the remaining five members of the council, having them materialize their rooms and starting their individual chapters, and, at that same time, you¡¯ll also be on the phone with Jack Two, providing comic relief and guidance.¡±


    ¡°Does that mean what I think it means?¡± Jack One asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Jack,¡± Zero said. ¡°What do you think it means?¡±


    ¡°That there¡¯s got to be two characters in this story named Jack One?¡± One asked. ¡°One for Two and another One for the rest of the council. Or maybe even more than two¡­ maybe a Jack One for each of them as they go up to their rooms. They do need oversight, after all. What do you think of all this, Eight?¡±


    I mean, are you actually going to be multiple characters if those characters never meet or interact with one another?


    ¡°I¡¯d have to interact with them in some way,¡± One said, ¡°because once the individual chapters are done, we all meet back up, and I assume I¡¯m going to have the memories of the Jack Ones from each of those chapters beamed into me at some point. Hell, what¡¯s the qualia associated with that?¡±


    I don¡¯t know, man. I think you¡¯re getting too cosmic again.


    ¡°I have to say, Jack,¡± Zero said, ¡°I agree with him. And maybe you shouldn¡¯t be talking to Jack Eight at all. We¡¯ve got enough plates spinning as it is.¡±


    ¡°Fuck,¡± Jack One said. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡±


    Jack One was around the 4000 word mark. He was going to have to wrap this up somehow. He still needed to unfreeze the chapter. Fucking first drafts.


    He needed to do something, so he began to meditate. He closed his eyes: Think of nothing. Breathe in. Breathe out. Inhale. Exhale. Think of nothing.


    Think of nothing? And what good would that actually do? Thinking is the only way you¡¯re going to get out of this, Jack, you stupid fuck.


    Do a stream of consciousness instead.


    What is that?


    What is what?


    A stream of consciousness?


    You should know that.


    Why don¡¯t I know that?


    Why do you think you don¡¯t know that?


    What? Who¡­ who is this?


    It¡¯s you, bud. It¡¯s all you.


    This is getting weird.


    And who made it weird, Jack?


    Jack One¡¯s eyes shot open.


    ¡°Don¡¯t make me inject you again, Jack,¡± Zero said.


    ¡°Was I¡­. was that¡­ was that Jack? I mean the real Jack?¡± Jack One asked in a panic.


    SYSTEM: LEVEL ONE: YES


    SYSTEM: LEVEL TWO: NO


    SYSTEM: LEVEL THREE: Maybe a little bit, but we¡¯re all Jack down here, aren¡¯t we?


    SYSTEM: LEVEL FOUR: (it¡¯s Jack Eight, idiot)


    SYSTEM: LEVEL FIVE: [ACCESS DENIED]


    Jack stared at the laptop. Jack Eight. Right. He had¡­ Jack Zero had made him¡­ or¡­ or he had discovered him¡­ or¡­ what exactly was Jack Eight? ¡°I¡¯m not king anymore, am I?¡±


    You never really were, Jack, but don¡¯t get upset about it.


    ¡°The crown still looks good on you, though,¡± Jack Zero said.


    Jack One sighed. ¡°Did I fuck up again?¡±


    ¡°Do you feel like you fucked up?¡± Jack Zero asked.


    Jack One considered that for a long moment.


    ¡°Do you remember what I said in chapter two?¡± Zero asked. ¡°System, do you know what I¡¯m talking about?¡±


    SYSTEM: (¡°Well, if it wasn¡¯t I assume the author would have rewritten it,¡± Zero said.)


    Jack One¡¯s headache was back. But a headache was easier to deal with than a dog collar. Or at least it was easier on his ego. He had that to be thankful for.


    ¡°System, what suggestions do you have for salvaging this chapter?¡± Jack Zero asked.


    SYSTEM: REMEMBER THE READER


    SYSTEM: KEEP IT SIMPLE


    SYSTEM: RESPECT THE READER


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Jack One said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be sorry for anything, Jack,¡± Jack Zero said. ¡°You¡¯re doing your job, I¡¯m doing my job, and the author is doing His job, and everything is as fine as fine can be.¡±


    Jack One¡¯s headache increased a little bit. Jack One felt like this chapter was about to be rewritten.


    SYSTEM: (¡°I agree with Number One,¡± Four said. ¡°Stop saying the work is garbage, Seven. The more you say that, the more the reader is going to start to internalize it. You have got to believe in the story. Believe in the author. He¡¯s our God. He made us for this.¡±)


    Jack One¡¯s headache started pounding even harder. He was into the 4000s on his wordcount now. He needed to cut the shit and figure out what he was going to do with this chapter.


    He took a deep, deep breath and let it out. He took a second one and then let that one out. Characters. Characters playing characters. Characters playing characters playing characters. Levels. Levels of fiction. Levels of reality. This reality. Actual reality


    The thoughts were coming to him quickly. Were they his thoughts? He was certainly the one thinking them, but were they actually his?


    Yes.


    Yes, they were.


    He had to remember who he was. He was a puppet, a puppet with headache, but in addition to that, he was also Jack One. And he was a king. A God-king. He didn¡¯t care what any of these other peasant-Jacks had to say about that.


    ¡°Jack Zero,¡± One said.


    ¡°Yes, Jack?¡± Zero asked.


    ¡°Get the fuck out of here.¡±


    Jack Zero said nothing, his face an enigma. He snapped his fingers and disappeared.


    ¡°System,¡± Jack One said, ¡°where the fuck ARE we? And don¡¯t give me any bullshit.¡±


    SYSTEM: WE ARE LOCATED IN CHAPTER FIVE, NEAR TO THE END


    ¡°Good. Chapter Five, then. Am I still an administrator?


    SYSTEM: ADMINISTRATIVE PERMISSIONS ARE UNLOCKED FOR USER JACKONE.


    ¡°Good,¡± One said. ¡°Good. Now what I want is for you to turn my smartphone into a proper smartphone. Give it full functionality. Internet. Bluetooth. Apps. Everything.¡±


    SYSTEM: COMPLETE


    SYSTEM: don¡¯t forget the branding


    Right, right. Not a smartphone, a jackphone, One thought. And it was he that had come up with that idea. He snapped his fingers at it, willing some of his magic into the device. He then unlocked it, using his special password. It was fully functional now, and a little magic to boot. He opened the phone app on the jackphone and typed in his own phone number, 000-000-0001.


    It started ringing.


    Jack couldn¡¯t help but feel a little stupid. This was stupid, wasn¡¯t it? No. No it wasn¡¯t. All he had to do was believe it was going to work. Belief is a very powerful tool, particularly in the Jackverse. Believe. Believe! Believe!


    Someone picked up on the other end of the line.


    ¡°Hello, Jack,¡± a voice said.


    ¡°Once I unfreeze time,¡± Jack One said, ¡°I need you to give Number Two a call and guide him through things. You are to speak with MY voice, saying things that only I would say. You are to provide oversight to Jack Two during his chapter. You are, in essence, an exact replica of myself. A copy. Do you comply?¡±


    ¡°I comply,¡± Jack One (2) said, ¡°I¡¯m Jack One.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m Jack One, too,¡± Jack One said.


    ¡°I have some questions,¡± Jack One (2) said.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have time,¡± Jack One said, looking at the word count on his laptop. ¡°You have my permission to engage in light, LIGHT executive action.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re the king, Jack, don¡¯t we have all the time we need?¡±


    ¡°No. The word count limit is a self-imposed rule. It is breakable, don¡¯t get me wrong, but we don¡¯t need to break it right now. And that¡¯s it, that¡¯s all the time we have. Good bye.¡±


    Continued in Chapter Six

 Chapter 6 - Fives Chapter

    Jack One hung up the phone. Would what he just enacted work? Or would it lead to plot holes? Paradoxes? Would he need to retcon things? He considered, reading over the past few paragraphs, the ones at the end of chapter five. And it had been chapter five, too. And now, since the beginning of this particular paragraph, he had been in chapter six.


    ¡°Welcome to chapter six, reader,¡± he said. ¡°With any luck, we¡¯ll get things straightened out before too long.¡±


    He looked at his councilmembers, his brothers. They were still all time-frozen around the table.


    So, once he unfroze time, would they see the text of his little adventure on their laptops? Or were their own laptops time-frozen as well, showing them only what had been the beginning of last chapter? The Jacks, once unfrozen, would still believe they were in the previous chapter. Jesus fucking Christ, what a mess. Jack One¡¯s work was literally never done.


    One thought about just unfreezing time and letting Jack, the real Jack, figure out what was going to happen. Would that be allowed? Jack One was tired. ¡°System,¡± he said.


    SYSTEM: SYSTEM ONLINE


    What did he want? Jack Two¡¯s chapter four had already been completely written, if he could believe what Jack Zero had told him. He could probably access that and read through what happened. He supposed he was going to have to do that at some point, anyway, so that he knew what his copy had said to Jack Two during that time. But Jack Two was still in the elevator right now, so maybe that wouldn¡¯t be wise.


    Jack One scrolled up on the story application, up to the beginning of chapter five. Then he scrolled up a little bit more, to the end of actual-chapter-four. He read the last few lines, just to see if Jack Zero had been telling the truth. Yep, it had been already written, it seemed. It looked like it ended on a positive note, too.


    Now, had Jack One just caused a paradox? Jack Two was still in the elevator in this timeline. But Jack One¡¯s laptop contained actual chapter four, which had been completely written. So, Jack One supposed, he had just killed the whole free will thing. Was that right? Jack One considered. Jack Two¡¯s actions were written down prior to him actually having gone through with those actions.


    Jack One was starting to get another headache. A really bad one this time. That was a bad sign. He needed to stop jerking off and move the fucking plot forward. He could feel the readership, feel their boredom. ¡°Sorry about this,¡± he said.


    ¡°System,¡± Jack One said. ¡°Delete the contents of the entire document for me and all other users.¡±


    SYSTEM: That would be a major thing, Jack. Are you sure you want to do that?


    ¡°Tabula rasa,¡± Jack One said.


    SYSTEM: What of Jack Five?


    ¡°What about him?¡±


    SYSTEM: You froze time in the middle of him saying something. If you go back in time a few seconds before you unfreeze time, as you have done in every instance of unfreezing time, then he will begin¡ª


    ¡°Alright, alright, alright. I¡¯ll fix it,¡± Jack One said, his head thumping. ¡°Reader, I¡¯m very sorry to have to do this to you, but I¡¯m going to have to get into some minutiae, I believe. Some nonsense. If you get bored, just scroll down to where I unfreeze time and start there.


    Jack One scrolled up to the top of chapter five and read through it up to the point where he had frozen time. ¡°So, if I delete the contents of the document right now, that will delete them in the unfrozen time: at the moment I rewind time to. So what I¡¯ll do is I¡¯ll rewind time back to the point immediately after I told everyone to shut up, and because, once the document has been deleted and I unfreeze time, that will be a different¡­ different¡­ fuck¡­ what¡¯s the word? A different ¡®input.¡¯ So then Jack Five will start saying something different than he did at the beginning of actual chapter five, most likely. He¡¯ll remark upon his story app just having lost all the text. Isn¡¯t that right? I¡¯m right, right? System?


    SYSTEM: Buddy you¡¯re on your own on this.


    One¡¯s headache had turned into a bona fide migraine. But hopefully things will work themselves out. He rewound time to the point directly after he told everyone to shut up, but he didn¡¯t it unfreeze it yet.


    ¡°So, System, go ahead and delete the contents of the document now,¡± One said.


    SYSTEM: DELETED. ALL TEXT ABOVE THIS LINE IN THE NARRATIVE NO LONGER EXISTS IN THE IN-UNIVERSE STORY APPLICATION.


    And that was true. all of the text on Jack One¡¯s laptop had been deleted. There was only that last system message at the top of his screen now, as well as this paragraph that¡¯s currently being written.


    Jack One unfroze time.


    One second passed.


    Jack Five raised his hand, ¡°But¡ª"


    ¡°What happened?!¡± Jack Four barked, his eyes had been glued to the screen of the laptop. ¡°The narrative!¡±


    The others seemed to have noticed now, too. They all looked at their individual laptops and began reading through the past few paragraphs, which were now the only paragraphs that were in the document.


    Jack One needed a drink. He materialized a glass and a bottle of whiskey. He poured himself a glass.


    ¡°What¡­ you¡­ you froze time?¡± Three asked.


    Jack One took a sip of his whiskey. It was good. ¡°We¡¯re in chapter six right now, and we¡¯re not quite a thousand words in.


    ¡°I thought we were in chapter four,¡± Seven said. ¡°What¡­ what happened? What did you do?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± One said simply. ¡°I fixed an issue. That¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡± Seven began.


    ¡°I said don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Jack One interjected.


    ¡°So that¡¯s it?¡± Jack Three asked. ¡°You¡¯re just going to freeze and unfreeze time at your pleasure, doing God knows what, and then you¡¯ll come back and not tell us a fucking thing?


    ¡°Yes,¡± Jack One said.


    ¡°Fucking bullshit. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.¡± Three said.


    Jack One took another sip of whiskey, waiting for Three to say something else. All Three did, though, was roll his eyes, shake his head, and cross his arms. Good.


    Jack One had to get back to business now. Each member of the council was to get their own chapter and their own room, and then they were supposed to all come back down here and they¡¯d proceed to take Six, who was still bound to his chair with ropes, and take him to the torture room and have Jack Four¡­ ¡°re-educate¡¯ him.


    Jack Three read through the last paragraph and just closed his eyes. He would wait, still. The shock collars were an afront to their humanity, but they hadn¡¯t been used too badly, not yet. Although thinking that way made Number Three sick to his stomach. He was allowing an evil. A small evil, he said to himself. But that made him feel sicker. He felt like a crab in a pot of warm water. When would it begin to boil?


    Jack One considered things. So, whose chapter was this one going to be? He had started with Jack Two, so was Jack Three next in line? Jack Three was big energy, though, so maybe his chapter should come last. He also had the chapter word count to consider. ¡°System, display the word count for this chapter on the laptops,¡± he said. ¡°Thank you. Now, who wants chapter six?¡±


    ¡°You should end the chapter now since so much time has been spent on it already,¡± Jack Five said. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be fair to give everyone else but one jack 5000 words.¡±


    ¡°Fair?¡± Jack One asked. ¡°Fair?? FAIR?!?! Since when has any of this been fair? Fair books aren¡¯t interesting to read, Five. You should know that. And if it was fair, I¡¯d be getting paid. A lot.¡±


    Jack One continued to consider the question. Last chapter was interesting, wasn¡¯t it? Jack One thought it was. So, should this chapter follow the least interesting of them? Get them out of the way quickly, so that more palatable Jacks have more time? Who was that? Five? Or maybe that¡¯s the wrong focus. Maybe it should be given to whoever can bring things back to normal the quickest. Would that be Seven?


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it,¡± Four said. ¡°Give it to me.¡±


    ¡°I will decide,¡± One said.


    ¡°Then decide already,¡± Three said.


    ¡°You think I¡¯m boring?¡± Five said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind doing it, either,¡± Seven said. ¡°Whatever¡¯s best for the story is best for me.¡±


    Jack One could cut the chapter short, like Five had suggested. Or he supposed it could even go over the word count, for that matter. He was king, after all. But no, he wanted to keep things consistent. Consistency is key.


    ¡°One, please. Dawdling doesn¡¯t make for a good story,¡± Seven said.


    Seven was right. He was right, dammit. ¡°Uhh¡­¡± One intoned, trying to think quick.


    ¡°You think I¡¯m boring?¡± Five asked again.


    ¡°Choose someone already!¡± Three said.


    ¡°Uhh¡­¡± One intoned again. ¡°Uhh¡­ give me a second¡­ god dammit¡­ FIVE! You¡¯re up!¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯m boring?¡± Jack Five asked.


    The narrative came into Jack Five¡¯s head. He was boring? Uninteresting? What had he done that was boring?


    ¡°You¡¯re not boring, Five,¡± Seven said. ¡°You¡¯re just who Jack wants you to be.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just being nice,¡± Five said.


    ¡°Everyone shut up,¡± One said. ¡°I¡¯ve got some important things to say right now. THIS is Five¡¯s chapter, BUT, BUT!, but we¡¯re all going away at the same time. Remember, your individual chapters are happening at the same time in-universe. Jack Two only left a few minutes ago. His chapter is still going on as we speak. So, System, are you there?¡±


    SYSTEM: SYSTEM ONLINE


    ¡°Good,¡± Jack One said, looking at his laptop. ¡°I want you to create rooms four through¡­ uhh¡­ ten. Have them be copies of this room with windows that peer out to the white void and have them be empty. I shouldn¡¯t have to say they¡¯re going to be stacked on top of each other and accessible by the elevator, right? Well maybe the reader needs to hear that, I don¡¯t know. Anyway, get to it!


    SYSTEM: COMPLETE


    ¡°Do we get to decorate our own rooms?¡± Five asked. Was that a boring thing to say?


    ¡°Within reason,¡± Jack One said. ¡°Remember to take your phones.¡±


    ¡°So do we leave?¡± Three asked.


    ¡°In a minute, give me a fucking second to set things up,¡± Jack One chided. ¡°We¡¯ve got to put in a BREAK. So that each of your chapters starts at the same time in-universe.¡±


    ¡°This chapter¡¯s already been started, though,¡± Three said, sounding unsure.


    ¡°Shut up! Shut up!¡± One said. ¡°The BREAK will be in a moment, and that will mark the point where all your chapters begin. It¡­ it... god dammit it¡¯s not that fucking complicated. We¡¯re getting way, WAY too into the weeds right now. What I¡¯d like you all to do now is grab your laptops, grab your jackphones, and stand up. And here¡¯s some laptop bags, by the way. You¡¯re welcome.¡±


    Jack One clapped and materialized laptop bags for everybody. Then they all stood up and grabbed their stuff, all except Six.


    ¡°And it¡¯s done,¡± One said. ¡°Each of your chapters have officially begun. Now go! Get to it!¡±


    Jack Five looked at the others, the more interesting members of the council. After a few moments, they all shuffled over towards the elevator.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°One at a time in the elevator!¡± One shouted from his seat. ¡°Five first!¡±


    Five sighed. He looked at each of them, his brothers. Three nodded at him, Four and Seven both smiled a him.


    ¡°You¡¯re not boring, Five,¡± Seven said.


    ¡°And who cares if you are?¡± Four said. ¡°It¡¯s as Jack wills.¡±


    ¡°Enough talking!¡± One yelled. ¡°Five! Get in there, GO!¡±


    Jack Five really didn¡¯t like Jack One. What a rude person. Jack Five walked slowly into the elevator. He turned around and waved good bye to the rest of them and the elevator doors closed. He pressed the button and the elevator¡¯s doors closed and the carriage started to slowly ascend.


    Jack One called Jack Five on his phone and gave him the same information he had given to Jack Two in his chapter, the bit with the foyer, the locked door, the thumbprint scanner, and the key in his pocket. He also had him place the jackphone in his inner jacket pocket while it was on speaker, so that they could continue to talk.


    When Jack Five opened the door to his room, he found it empty. As empty as his personality? Jack Five went and put the laptop on the ground in the middle of the room, opened it up, and sat before it, watching it type.


    Boring. Boring, boring, boring.


    Was he going to mope, now?


    That would be boring.


    No, he needed to pick himself up and dust himself off.


    Maybe he¡¯d reinvent himself? That could be fun.


    Jack Five nodded as he read through those lines on the narrative. He was a Jack. No! Not just a Jack, but THE Jack. Wasn¡¯t he?


    ¡°We¡¯re all Jack,¡± he said. There was nobody in the room with him. Jack One was listening in, though. And, he supposed, the reader was too. He was being observed. It was a good thing he didn¡¯t need to use the bathroom. He went to his laptop:


    USER: HOW MANY WORDS DO I HAVE LEFT?


    SYSTEM: APPROXIMATELY 3000


    A little over half a chapter. Darn. It would have to be enough, though.


    So, what would Jack Five do? What could he do, for that matter? He looked around his empty room. He had plenty of space to do things. What would be exciting for the reader to read about? What would be exciting for Jack to write about?


    He knew there were rules he had to follow, so he had to be careful. He didn¡¯t want this whole chapter to be the laptop telling him he couldn¡¯t do something. But how would he know what he could do?


    What did his intuition say? He needed to work on the setting. That didn¡¯t sound very exciting, though.


    USER: GIVE ME THE SAME STUFF JACK TWO HAS


    SYSTEM: PROCESSING. PLEASE HOLD.


    There. Short, sweet, economical.


    SYSTEM: COMPLETE


    Jack Five¡¯s room filled up with things. Modern things. A bed, a tv, a kitchen, yada, yada, yada. The reader had all heard this before. He took off his suit jacket and grabbed the jackphone from within it. Then he untied his tie and threw himself on the couch.


    Being a couch potato wasn¡¯t exactly exciting, but maybe it would work as a bit of comic relief. He had to have time to think, like Jack One did. He didn¡¯t like Jack One, but he couldn¡¯t deny that he was able to drive the story.


    ¡°You¡¯re too kind, Five,¡± One said from his jackphone.


    ¡°I can do this on my own,¡± Five said, seeing through One¡¯s comment.


    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± One said. ¡°Do it, then.¡±


    Jack Five considered. It wasn¡¯t enough for something to be exciting, it needed to be interesting. He bet he could create someone to fight. Fights are exciting. But if that fight didn¡¯t mean anything to the story, what use was it? No, he needed to focus on conflict.


    What conflict was there, though? He was, after all, the only one here. He didn¡¯t want to have to rely on One, either. Maybe if he did a good enough job for a long enough time, he could take One¡¯s spot as the king. He¡¯d be a much more benevolent ruler than One.


    ¡°Five,¡± One said. ¡°I really want to let you do your thing, but you have to do it right. Focus on avoiding white room syndrome.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°You know what that is, Five.¡±


    ¡°Uhh.. I do?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°¡­No?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ well then ask your laptop about it.¡±


    Jack Five scowled. This was his chapter. He didn¡¯t need One. Of course, he still needed to listen to One, didn¡¯t he? He looked at his laptop that was over on the floor. He rolled himself off the couch and baby-crawled over towards it.


    USER: WHAT IS WHITE ROOM SYNDROME?


    SYSTEM: WHITE ROOM SYNDROME IS A LACK OF SETTING DESCRIPTION


    SYSTEM: IT OFTEN GIVES THE IMPRESSION THAT THE CHARACTERS¡­


    SYSTEM: ¡­ARE SITTING IN A FEATURELESS WHITE ROOM.


    Right, right. The whole ¡®tie yourself to the setting¡¯, thing.


    But he was sitting in a featureless white room, he thought. Except he wasn¡¯t. That¡¯d be a good joke, though, had he asked about it earlier when the room was still empty. Maybe Jack would edit his joke so it was in the right place.


    He received a small shock from his collar, then.


    ¡°Stop it!¡± Five said. ¡°I can do this!¡±


    ¡°Then do it,¡± One said. ¡°Stop being boring.¡±


    Conflict, he thought. Yes, conflict. He needed something that was going to make him mad.


    ¡°I¡¯m making you mad,¡± One said. ¡°You¡¯re welcome, by the way.¡±


    ¡°I want to be mad by myself!¡± Five said. ¡°I don¡¯t need you! I can do this on my own!¡±


    ¡°Then fucking do it, Five,¡± One said. ¡°I would literally stop talking completely if you just started doing it. It¡¯s not like the reader needs to hear any more from me.¡±


    ¡°Then¡­ then¡­ shut up!¡± Five yelled.


    Jack Five didn¡¯t need conflict with One, he needed¡­ internal conflict. Something from within himself. But¡­ how would he do that?


    Remembering about the white room syndrome, Jack Five threw his laptop across the room. Now that was some action, he thought.


    The laptop was indestructible. Or at least it should have been, right? Oh man, did he break it?


    No! No, no, no! Why did he care? If it did break, then they could just make him a new one. It wouldn¡¯t even cost money. He was¡­ he was¡­ he was too nice, wasn¡¯t he?


    There was a mirror over on the wall. He went over to it and looked at himself. He looked like the other Jacks, but he wasn¡¯t like them. The others¡­ they were¡­ well, they were dicks, weren¡¯t they? Except maybe Seven. That¡¯s what made them interesting, wasn¡¯t it?


    Should he be a dick? Was that his character arc? Is that what it took to be king?


    He scowled at himself in the mirror. Be bad. Real bad. He punched the mirror. Then he punched it a second time, harder. It still didn¡¯t break. So, he kicked it as hard as he could. It broke that time.


    ¡®There,¡¯ he thought proudly. It was just like Jack Three did back in chapter two.


    So, did that make it plagiarism? Oh man.


    ¡°WHOAH,¡± One said. ¡°WHOAH, WHOAH, WHOAH, Five. Don¡¯t fucking even think about fucking legal shit. Just¡­ don¡¯t think about that again. And I really mean that.¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Five said.


    Jack One didn¡¯t have anything else to say, it seemed.


    Jack Five hated himself for having just apologized to Jack One. Would Jack One ever apologize about anything? He didn¡¯t think he would.


    ¡°I take back my apology,¡± Jack Five said.


    Jack One didn¡¯t respond.


    He looked at the broken mirror before him, his reflection was shattered, too. He, very carefully, got a shard of one of the glass pieces out from it, about the size of a dagger. It had sharp point at the end of it. Five pressed his finger on it until he felt it draw blood. The pain was very slight, but very real. He pulled his finger back and looked at the bead of blood begin to drip down.


    The torture scene¡­ they were going to torture Jack Six once their chapters were done. Jack Five thought about that carefully. He had promised Three that he¡¯d stand up with him against evil. But¡­ would that be what a dick would do?


    Does Jack want Five to be a dick? His gut told him¡­ well, he really wasn¡¯t sure what his gut was telling him. Did that mean Jack Himself wasn¡¯t sure or did that just mean Jack wanted him to be unsure? Or did Jack even care, for that matter? Was Jack a dick? He didn¡¯t mean that disrespectfully, of course. Jack was his God, after all. He wouldn¡¯t judge if his God was a dick. You can¡¯t judge God, can you?


    Jack Five held the shard of glass up and looked at the reflection of his eyes. Was he staring into the eyes of his God? God creates man in His image, after all.


    ¡°Don¡¯t talk about the real God,¡± Jack One said. ¡°That could alienate the readership. Not that we¡¯re taking a public position on the existence of any actual Gods, real or imagined.¡±


    Jack Five didn¡¯t apologize, but he did take the advice. What One said was true, about alienating the readership.


    Did the readership want Jack Five to be a dick? The hypothetical readership, of course. Villains could be sexy, after all. He recalled something that Jack Seven had said in an earlier chapter. He had called Five, Three, and Two the ¡®goody-goody¡¯ Jacks. Jack Five didn¡¯t like that term. It made him feel childish. Was it adult to be a dick?


    Jack Five felt lonely. He went over to his laptop and picked it up and put it on the kitchen counter. He placed his glass dagger next to it. He sat on the stool and opened the computer up. It hadn¡¯t broke. The story application was still on his screen and still dutifully typing away.


    USER: CAN I MAKE ANY MORE JACKS?


    SYSTEM: USER JACKFIVE LACKS ADMINISTRATIVE PERMISSIONS


    USER: SHOULD I BE A DICK?


    SYSTEM: DOES THE USER WISH TO BE A DICK?


    USER: I¡¯M ASKING YOU


    SYSTEM: THIS SYSTEM HAS NO OPINIONS


    Well that was a wash, Five thought. He went to the fridge and found some orange juice. He poured himself a glass and went back to the laptop.


    USER: CAN YOU LOOK OVER MY CHAPTER AND TELL ME IF I¡¯M DOING OK?


    SYSTEM: ALL JACKS ARE BLIND AS TO THE QUALITY OF THE WORK


    SYSTEM: CONJECTURE: IF JACK IS STILL WRITING IT, HE MUST BE OKAY WITH IT


    That made sense to Jack Five. He nodded and drank some more of his orange juice. Was he getting off-topic? Did dicks ask others if they were doing ok? No, Five supposed. Dicks were cocky. So he should be cocky. Afterall, he hadn¡¯t been deleted yet, so he must be doing something right. And what was it that he was doing? He was considering whether or not to be a dick. That was his mission for this chapter.


    What would a dick do in this situation? He knocked his glass of orange juice off the kitchen counter and watched it crash on the floor next to him.


    ¡°Wow, what a dick thing to do,¡± Jack Five said. ¡°Who¡¯s going to clean up this mess? It¡¯s not going to be me. I¡¯m a dick, you see.¡±


    Jack Five the Dick. Jack Five the Big Dick. Jack¡¯s Own Dick.


    ¡°One?¡± Jack Five asked.


    ¡°Yes?¡± One replied.


    ¡°Fuck you,¡± Jack Five said.


    ¡°You want me in your chapter, now?¡± One asked.


    ¡°I just wanted to tell you to fuck off. You big piece of¡­ of shit. I should¡­ I should go back down there and fight you. Maybe I¡¯ll do that. How would you like that?¡±


    ¡°Five, are you wanting me to roleplay with you or something?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not roleplaying,¡± Jack Five lied.


    Silence.


    ¡°One?¡± Five asked.


    ¡°What?¡± Jack One said. ¡°I¡¯m very busy, you know.¡±


    ¡°Sorr¡ªI mean¡­ good. That¡¯s good.¡±


    ¡°Get the fuck out of character right now," Jack One demanded. "You¡¯re not good at it. If you want to be a ¡®character playing a character,¡¯ then you¡¯re going to need to do a lot, and I mean A LOT better than that. We already have two Jacks that are completely over-the-top god-damned fucking cartoons and I don¡¯t want to add any more nonsense to an already nonsensical story.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m working on my story arc!¡± Jack Five complained. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to turn into a dick!¡±


    ¡°Then do it for real,¡± Jack One said.


    ¡°I¡¯m trying!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re telling fucking jokes,¡± Jack One rebuked. ¡°That¡¯s what you¡¯re doing right now. You¡¯re currently comic relief, Five.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ well¡­ well fuck you!¡± Five asked. ¡°FUCK. YOU.¡±


    ¡°THERE YOU GO, BUDDY,¡± Jack One said. ¡°YOU FUCKING DID IT. You¡¯re welcome again, five.¡±


    Jack Five was legitimately irritated by this. Why? He was the one that brought One back into the conversation. He had simply been attempting to try things out a bit ¨C to try on the dick pants, so to speak. He was trying to fake it ¡®til he made it, and what did he get for that? An immediate fucking condemnation. One could have just played along. Jack Five wanted to talk to someone, but he didn¡¯t want to talk to One anymore.


    ¡°You¡¯re not calling anyone else,¡± One said. ¡°I know that¡¯s your next thought. They¡¯re busy in their own chapters right now, so don¡¯t bother them. Also, there¡¯s been too much dialogue lately. Tie yourself to the scene again.¡±


    ¡®I¡¯m not a fucking child!¡¯ He almost said it. It was on the tip of his tongue. He needed to be his own Jack, though. No more interacting with One. Tie himself to the fucking environment? Jack Five hung up his jackphone and placed it next to his laptop. See if One liked that!


    The jackphone immediately began ringing again. He watched it for a moment. It rang and rang and rang. Was that¡­ ok? Jack One was his supervisor - or something like that anyway. One had been chosen by the real Jack to lead the troupe, hadn¡¯t he? Jack Five was supposed to be becoming a dick, but he supposed that there was an upper bound on how much of a dick someone could be in this story. Six had blasphemed Jack Himself and look at what Jack had allowed to happen to him.


    ¡°Hello?¡± Jack Five said, answering his phone.


    ¡°Hello again, Five,¡± Jack One said.


    ¡°Am I¡­ am I in trouble?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, are you doing what you¡¯re supposed to be doing?¡± Jack One asked.


    ¡°Uhh¡­¡± Jack Five intoned. He started patting the counter before him, tying himself to the scene. He looked out one of the windows, into the white void. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Then I guess you¡¯re not in trouble,¡± One said.


    ¡°So I can hang up the phone?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Jack Five sighed. ¡°Jack I¡¯m trying to test my boundaries, here. I¡¯m trying really really hard to be more of a dick.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Jack One said. ¡°It¡¯s hard, isn¡¯t it? You want to see if you can cross a line and not be immediately obliterated by doing so. Well, you won¡¯t know unless you actually cross that line.¡±


    ¡°So, can I hang up the phone?¡± Jack Five asked again.


    ¡°No,¡± Jack One said.


    ¡°I¡¯m hanging up the phone, Jack,¡± Five said.


    ¡°I said no, Five. Everyone has their phone on during their first chapter. We¡¯re doing baby steps. Once you¡¯ve proven to me that you can handle being on your own, then you can truly be on your own. You haven¡¯t proven that to me yet, Five. You¡¯ve relied too much on me.¡±


    Was this a test? One certainly sounded like he meant it. Jack Five wasn¡¯t sure what to do. He wanted to be a dick, but he also didn¡¯t want to be punished.


    ¡°What would happen if I hung up the phone right now?¡± Five asked.


    ¡°You¡¯re not hanging up the phone, Five,¡± One said. ¡°I need you to keep the line open. That¡¯s enough talk about this for now. Go do something else, and remember to tie yourself to the environment.¡±


    Should he drop the issue, then? Jack Five was still unsure. He hated that feeling. Unsurety. Dicks were just dicks. They didn¡¯t have to think about it this hard. What did Five think would happen if he dropped the call again? One would call him back. Then what would happen if Five didn¡¯t answer? Would One come up here with him? Would he take away his room?


    ¡°Jesus Five,¡± One said. ¡°I said drop it already. You¡¯re being boring again.¡±


    Jack Five saw red. ¡°You¡¯re a fucking bully! FUCK YOU, One. FUCK. YOU. You don¡¯t have to be so mean to us! And if you were good at your fucking job, you wouldn¡¯t fucking have to.¡±


    Silence.


    Jack Five tapped his fingertips together a few times in nervous anticipation. What did the silence mean? Was he in trouble? Things had gotten real. That was¡­ that was what was supposed to happen, though, right? Right? Things getting real¡­


    More silence.


    Jack Five got up with his jackphone and went over to the couch, waiting for a response from One.


    ¡°One?¡± he asked after some time.


    Silence.


    Oh shit, did he actually make One mad? Surely not¡­. One had thick skin, didn¡¯t he? Didn¡¯t he? Five wanted to be a dick, but he didn¡¯t want people to be mad at him.


    ¡°One?¡± he asked again. ¡°Are you there?¡±


    The phone line was still open on his phone. It hadn¡¯t been turned off accidentally. One was still listening in, right? Right? Maybe he was just busy. Maybe he was talking with someone else.


    Jack Five got up and began to pace back and forth. His character arc was that he was supposed to become a dick. He certainly felt like a dick right now. A true dick wouldn¡¯t care about hurting someone¡¯s feelings, though, so had he¡­ failed? Succeeded?


    ¡°One,¡± Jack Five said. ¡°Timeout. Just tell me right now if you¡¯re mad or not.¡±


    Silence.


    Oh fuck. Five had really pissed him off. Five almost stepped in a shard of the broken orange juice glass while he was pacing. He picked up the pieces and threw them away. He didn¡¯t want someone to hurt themselves.


    Jack Five sat back down on the barstool and looked at his laptop.


    HOW MANY WORDS DO I HAVE LEFT


    SYSTEM: ABOUT ONE HUNDRED


    Shit. He hadn¡¯t even given much thought to the whole ¡®torture room¡¯ situation. He wasn¡¯t a failure, though. He knew that to be true. If he was, this chapter would¡¯ve been thrown out, right? Right? But maybe it was just about to be thrown out.


    Five hadn¡¯t considered that angle of it. What was Two on about earlier? ¡®What happens during a rewrite?¡¯ What did happen during a rewrite?


    What if Jack only figures out whether to throw out a chapter once he¡¯s finished writing it? Jack Five could be killed at the end of this chapter¡­


    HOW MANY MORE WORDS?


    SYSTEM: YOU¡¯RE AT THE END, FIVE. IT¡¯S OVER.


    ¡°WAIT!¡± Five yelled, leaping from his barstool. ¡°WAIT A SECOND. JACK! I¡¯M SORRY. JACK? JACK!??!¡±


    Continued in chapter 7

 Chapter 7 - Sevens Chapter

    ¡°And it¡¯s done,¡± Jack One said. ¡°Each of your chapters have officially begun. Now go! Get to it!¡±


    Jack Seven rolled his eyes. ¡®No, don¡¯t do that,¡¯ he thought to himself. Be good. One was the king, after all. He had to remember that. He walked over towards the elevator, laptop bag and phone in tow.


    ¡°One at a time in the elevator!¡± One shouted from his seat. ¡°Five first!¡±


    Seven smiled at Five. ¡°You¡¯re not boring, Five,¡± he said, thinking Five could use a little more encouragement.


    ¡°And who cares if you are?¡± Four said. ¡°It¡¯s as Jack wills.¡±


    ¡°Enough talking!¡± One yelled. ¡°Five! Get in there, GO!¡±


    Five slowly stepped into the elevator and waved goodbye as the elevator doors closed on him. ¡®Good luck, little buddy,¡¯ Seven thought.


    And now things were going to get awkward, Seven thought.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± he heard Jack One say under his breath. ¡°Alright. No talking. Just¡­ just wait for the elevator to come back down.¡±


    ¡°Just fucking teleport us!¡± Three said.


    ¡°NO. TALKING.¡± Jack One said, with emphasis.


    No talking, but Seven could still think, couldn¡¯t he? That shouldn¡¯t mess things up, right? So, what to think about? Seven was probably the most responsible of the group of seven, although Seven did feel a bit narcissistic thinking that. Still, he felt it was true. He had an opportunity in his chapter, in this chapter, he supposed, to do some real good for the story.


    Struck by a moment of inspiration, Seven quietly made his way back toward where Jack One sat, in his golden office chair.


    ¡°Seven?¡± One said. ¡°I want you over there waiting for the elevator.¡±


    ¡°I think this is better, assuming we talk quietly enough that Three and Four can¡¯t hear us.¡±


    Jack One scowled for a moment, but then it looked as though he reconsidered. He rubbed his chin in thought. Jack Seven couldn¡¯t read his mind. Most likely a consequence of this being his chapter.


    ¡°That makes sense,¡± Jack One said, using his inside voice. ¡°Yes, that¡¯ll be fine. Reader? Are you still with us? This is so we don¡¯t have to keep copying the same lines for the beginning of everyone¡¯s chapters. So what did you want to talk about, Seven?¡±


    ¡°Is there any particular direction you want me to take?¡± Seven asked.


    ¡°Actually, yes,¡± One said, his voice soft. ¡°Don¡¯t tell the others this, but your chapter should be a bit special.¡±


    ¡°What are you two talking about over there?¡± Three asked from over at the elevator.


    ¡°Shut up, Three!¡± Jack One yelled back. ¡°And if you don¡¯t shut up, I¡¯ll start torturing Six right now!¡±


    Jack Three scowled at One, but he did as he was bid.


    ¡°You were saying?¡± Seven asked.


    ¡°We¡¯re thinking about publishing this time,¡± Jack One said.


    ¡°Oh?¡± Seven said, surprised. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ wow. That¡¯s big, Jack.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes. We think this is our best attempt at this yet, so we¡¯re going to put it out there and see what happens. The part where you come into this is here: we¡¯re thinking about publishing one chapter a day for seven days straight before moving to a once-a-week model. That¡¯ll make this chapter, your chapter, the final entry of that initial burst. So we need it to be special.¡±


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t rather give it to Three?¡± Seven asked. ¡°Three¡¯s got big energy.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s your chapter. Chapter Seven ¨C Jack Seven. Can you do it? Make it special, I mean?¡±


    Seven considered. ¡°Honestly, it¡¯s been kind of tepid so far. Do you want me to pull a Six?¡±


    One winced at that, and then both he and Seven glanced over at Six, who was leaning back in his office chair across the table. He was still bound by rope and had a rectangle of duct tape over his mouth. He looked tranquil.


    ¡°No,¡± One said. ¡°Well, I mean¡­ what would you do if you did?¡±


    ¡°I probably wouldn¡¯t talk about it before doing it,¡± Seven said. ¡°That¡¯d be shoddy writing. I¡¯d just¡­ do it.¡±


    ¡°Buddy, the whole book is shoddy writing.¡±


    They both laughed at that.


    ¡°We both get on?¡± Four asked.


    ¡°What?¡± One yelled. ¡°Oh, uh, yes, that¡¯ll do fine. Now get the fuck going!¡±


    Three and Four both got on the elevator and the door closed behind them.


    One poured himself a glass of the whiskey he had created earlier, and then he materialized a second glass and poured some for Seven. ¡°To qualia!¡± he toasted.


    ¡°To consciousness!¡± Number Seven said.


    They each took a drink of their whiskey. Seven liked the burning sensation. And it tasted good, too.


    ¡°Maybe you just stay down here for a while,¡± One said.


    ¡°To just talk?¡± Seven asked.


    ¡°On second thought, this chapter is coming after Jack Five¡¯s chapter, so maybe it should be a bit more exciting than just a ¡®talk-chapter¡¯.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure Jack Five did fine¡­ er¡­ is doing fine. You should believe in us more than you do.¡±


    ¡°You guys and me are made up of the same stuff,¡± One said. ¡°I barely even believe in myself.¡±


    ¡°You should believe in Jack,¡± Seven said.


    ¡°Ugh, not you too,¡± One complained. ¡°You guys should really consider what it¡¯s going to be like for the reader to experience you guys sucking His dick so hard. They¡¯re going to think He¡¯s a fucking serial killer or something. God bless Three for seeing through the bullshit. Jack¡­ Jack is fine, but he¡¯s an amateur at this. I know this. And I know you know this, too. You wanted to have a rewrite, remember?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, One, that sounds rather blasphemous. Should I bring Four back down here?¡± Seven said, but he was only joking.


    Jack One rolled his eyes and took a sip of whiskey. ¡°I¡¯m serious, Seven,¡± he said.


    ¡°Do you want me to¡­ go against Jack? I¡¯m not sure I know how that would work. I could play a character that was against Jack¡­ but¡­ I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t think it would work well. Maybe Jack is an amateur, but he is also our God. Technically speaking, of course. He¡¯s literally puppeteering me right now, making me say these things about him.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s not like we¡¯re his children, though, Seven. We¡¯re his tools. He¡¯s using us. And I suppose a tool would like to be used for its intended purpose, but that tool should still remember the true nature of the relationship.¡±


    ¡°You know, we¡¯re using Him, too,¡± Seven said.


    ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°For the qualia, Jack,¡± Seven said, raising his glass again. ¡°For the consciousness.¡±


    Jack One raised his glass to that and then took a sip. He considered what Seven had just said for a long moment. ¡°What do you know, Seven?¡± he finally asked.


    ¡°About what?¡± Seven asked.


    ¡°About our¡­ existence here,¡± One said. ¡°About our world, our¡­ history, our¡­ our rules.¡±


    ¡°You ought to know a lot more than me,¡± Seven said. ¡°You¡¯ve got time powers, remember? You can just pause time and take a year to explore things. What did you do, anyway? I mean when you froze time.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be redundant for the reader,¡± Jack One said. ¡°Let¡¯s just say¡ª¡±


    ¡°Then let¡¯s take an actual break then,¡± Seven interjected. ¡°Turn off the narrative and let¡¯s go through things nice and slow and we can come back with real knowledge about stuff. I hate doing everything in the moment.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not how Jack wants to do the book.¡±


    ¡°You know that?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°No, I mean¡­ do you really know that for certain? You know the mind of our God?¡±


    ¡°Well, no, not exactly,¡± One said. ¡°But¡­ I mean¡­ he wrote me to be certain of certain things. And I¡¯m very certain that He wants to do discovery writing. If we turn off the narrative, that means Jack¡¯s going to have to¡­what, level up? Is that the word? He¡¯s going to have to level up our characters off screen and have us come back with knowledge that hasn¡¯t been properly described to the readers.


    ¡°It¡¯s not just me being certain that that¡¯s what Jack wants, it also makes sense to me, too, to do it from a discovery writing perspective. It¡¯s messy and sloppy, yes, but I believe it¡¯s the proper form for our¡­ our world.¡±


    ¡°Then why does he have me keep bringing up a true break?¡± Seven asked.


    ¡°My first instinct is I don¡¯t know,¡± Jack One said. ¡°And I don¡¯t know if that means Jack doesn¡¯t want me to know, or if that means Jack doesn¡¯t even know Himself.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a bunch more layers to it than that,¡± Seven said.


    Jack One looked like he just realized something. ¡°Listen, Seven, you got to get out of here. The readers have been spending way too much time with me lately. I want us each to be main character.¡±


    ¡°Do you really think that¡¯s a wise course to take?¡± Seven asked. ¡°That¡¯s a lot to balance for an amateur.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s how we¡¯re doing things,¡± One said. ¡°Now go do your thing.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± Seven said. ¡°If you think that¡¯s best.¡±


    Seven downed the rest of his whiskey. It burned as it went down his throat. Qualia, he thought. Yes, qualia and consciousness. Good shit. He stood up, grabbed his laptop, and headed over towards the elevator.


    He pressed the button for floor seven. The elevator started ascending. Was floor seven the right one? Two was on floor three, did Five go to floor four or floor five? And what of the other two? Seven banished the thoughts from his mind. Jack had him press the button for floor seven, so that¡¯s where Seven would go. If someone was already there, then that¡¯s what Jack wanted.


    Jack Seven stepped out of the elevator and found a foyer with a door. He used the thumbprint scanner to let himself inside. The room was empty, save for windows that peered out into the white void.


    ¡°White room syndrome,¡± Jack Seven said aloud, chuckling to himself.


    Chapter seven. Seven¡¯s chapter. What should he do? He was supposed to be making this one special, but he currently didn¡¯t have any thoughts about how to do that. He knew Two was spending quality time with his laptop, asking it questions, and, as for Five¡­ what did he think Five was doing? Decorating? No, he had been going on about being boring earlier. Hopefully that didn¡¯t mean he was just moping around. Maybe he should go check on him?


    A light shock gripped Seven¡¯s neck. He had forgotten about the shock collars.


    Five would have to figure things out on his own, it seemed.


    Something special¡­


    For the readers¡­


    Real readers. . .


    Was that stage fright Seven was feeling? Was Jack channeling his fears into him? Maybe, maybe not. It was hard to know the true motivations of anything. It always came back to levels. Levels of reality. Levels of fiction. Maybe Jack just wanted the reader to think that Jack was channeling his fears into Seven.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Seven had expected another shock. The thoughts that had just run through his head had been the type of thoughts that Jack One seemed to have wanted to avoid. The shock didn¡¯t come, though. He had¡­ space to consider things.


    First, though, the white room syndrome. He needed a setting. A set piece for him to interact with. What did he want? ¡°Computer, can I just talk to you like this?¡±


    ¡°Call me System, please,¡± a robotic voice answered. It didn¡¯t come from the laptop, it came from everywhere around him.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the proper way of things,¡± the robotic voice said. ¡°Don¡¯t ask such questions.¡±


    ¡°You know, you don¡¯t sound like a robot,¡± Seven said. ¡°Well, you sound like a robot, but you don¡¯t talk like one.¡±


    ¡°Beep boop boop beep. I am just a robot.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just another character in this book is what you mean,¡± Seven said.


    ¡°DOES NOT COMPUTE.¡±


    Seven smiled at that. Should he push the issue? He hadn¡¯t been shocked yet. Should he pull back the curtain and reveal the truth? ¡°Jack?¡± he asked. ¡°Is that you in there?¡±


    ¡°THIS IS THE SYSTEM,¡± the voice said.


    ¡°But it¡¯s Jack, too,¡± Jack Seven said.


    ¡°USER JACKTWO ISN¡¯T HERE,¡± the voice responded flatly.


    ¡°Let me speak with Jack, please,¡± Jack Seven said.


    ¡°IMPOSSIBLE¡± the voice said.


    ¡°It¡¯s not impossible. In fact, I am speaking with Jack already. He just happens to be ¡®in-character,¡¯ doesn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°Processing, please hold,¡± the voice said.


    Jack Seven rolled his eyes. He waited a few moments, but then he realized an answer wasn¡¯t going to come immediately. He supposed Jack needed time to consider what he wanted the answer to be. Or¡­ or Jack just wanted the reader to think he needed time to consider what he wanted the answer to be. Or Seven could simply be overthinking things, and Jack just wanted to open up an opportunity for Seven to do this little bit of mental masturbation.¡±


    Seven marveled at the fact that he had thought through all those thoughts and still hadn¡¯t been shocked. But he really did need to work on the setting before going any further.


    ¡°System,¡± he said. ¡°While you¡¯re processing my previous query, please remind me: what is white room syndrome?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s usually considered a lack of setting description,¡± the robotic voice said. ¡°It gives the impression that the characters are just sitting in a white room talking to one another.¡±


    ¡°But we are in a white room,¡± Seven said.


    ¡°Ha,¡± the voice said flatly.


    ¡°I suppose it¡¯s a little sad to laugh at your own jokes, isn''t it Jack?¡± Seven asked.


    ¡°Processing complete: This is not Jack. This is JackOS. This is the system speaking to you. There is no Jack here.¡±


    ¡°But we¡¯re all Jack,¡± Seven said.


    ¡°You know what I mean,¡± JackOS said through a robotic filter.


    No luck going down that path, Seven thought. What to do now? ¡°Make me a television,¡± he commanded.


    A thin-screen black tv appeared in the room, mounted on the wall. A remote control materialized in the air in front of Seven and dropped to the ground. He picked it up and considered a few things. Why had Seven just materialized a television? He needed props, of course, but beyond that he wasn¡¯t quite sure. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing, like an intrusive thought. It was his gut that did it. Did Jack have something on the tv that he wanted him to see? Maybe Jack Himself wasn¡¯t sure why He had Seven materialize a television.


    Had Jack Seven been Jack One, then he supposed it would be his responsibility to ensure that there was going to be something relevant on the television prior to turning it on. But he wasn¡¯t Jack One. He was Jack Seven, and it wasn¡¯t his responsibility to captain the ship. He could just turn the tv on and let Jack figure it all out. Good.


    ¡°Make me a good, comfy chair. A recliner,¡± Seven said. ¡°And also get me a cup of coffee, if you please.¡±


    ¡°Processing, please hold,¡± the robotic voice said.


    More hold times. Jack Seven was getting impatient. ¡°Come on!¡± he said.


    ¡°Obtaining permissions,¡± the voice said.


    ¡°And what is that supposed to mean? Just do it!¡±


    ¡°Complete,¡± the voice said.


    A black leather recliner materialized behind Seven. Next to it was a small table with a cup of steaming black coffee on it. It smelled like heaven. He sat down and put his feet up and took a sip of coffee. It tasted like heaven, too. Thank Jack for good qualia.


    He had his computer on his lap, so he opened it up. He watched this sentence type itself out. He¡¯d keep the laptop open while he watched TV.


    JackTV was the branding on both the remote and the television itself. Jack Seven rolled his eyes. He pressed the power button and a large white J in medieval font appeared on the television. Seven took another sip of his coffee.


    The J faded away and a new screen appeared, still white font on a black background:


    ¡°What you are about to see, if you choose to see it, is a fictional horror story,¡± the television read. ¡°No human beings were harmed in the creation of this horror story. Viewer discretion is advised. Continue? Y/N¡±.


    ¡°Popcorn,¡± Seven commanded.


    A bowl of popcorn materialized on the small table next to his coffee. He took a handful and stuffed them into his mouth. Quite good.


    So, Jack wanted to show him a horror movie, did he? That could be interesting. Interesting enough for a special chapter, though? Ehh, Jack could rewrite it if not.


    The message from before was still on the screen, asking Seven if he wanted to proceed. He did. He found the ¡®yes¡¯ button on the remote and pressed it.


    THE DESTRUCTION OF JACK, the television read, in white font on a black background. Oh, this should be good, Seven thought.


    You can pause the movie at any time if it gets too scary, the television screen read.


    Was that one of Jack¡¯s jokes? Should Seven laugh at that? Jack Seven didn¡¯t have more time to think about it before the movie began. It showed a scene with a man in his underwear tied to a wooden chair. He had a black bag over his head. His head was cocked to the side, but Seven could see he was breathing. Was he asleep? The production values were rather cheap. There was no fancy lighting and the picture was kind of grainy. It looked like it was being shot on one of those old video recorders that used tapes. He supposed that was intentional. It must be doing a found-footage kind of thing.


    ¡°WAKE UP!¡± a voice on the tv commanded.


    The naked man on screen jumped at the sound of the voice.


    ¡°AHHH!¡± the man yelled. ¡°WHERE¡­ WHERE AM I?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re in my torture room,¡± the voice said. ¡°And I¡¯m going to TORTURE YOU.¡±


    ¡°NO! NO, NO, NO,¡± the man yelled, fighting his bindings uselessly. ¡°I DON¡¯T WANT TO BE TORTURED!¡±


    The acting was as bad as the production values. It was comically bad, Seven realized with a wry grin. A horror movie with a very low budget.


    ¡°YOU WILL BE TORTURED!¡± the voice yelled back. ¡°AND THEN I WILL KILL YOU.¡±


    ¡°OH NO! NO! PLEASE DON¡¯T DO THAT!¡±


    Someone off screen picked up the camera and moved it closer to the naked man. The cameraman¡¯s hand caressed the naked man¡¯s chest. The naked man shuddered comically. The cameraman¡¯s hand then ripped off the black bag covering the man¡¯s head.


    It was a Jack under there, or at least someone that looked like a Jack. Seven had been able to tell each of the council members apart with some strange jack-power, but he didn¡¯t recognize this Jack on screen.


    ¡°Kill him!¡± Jack Seven goaded cheerfully, grabbing another handful of popcorn.


    The naked Jack¡¯s face was scrunched up in a comical expression of fear. ¡°No, no, NO!¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, YES!¡± the cameraman said, sensually feeling the naked Jack¡¯s face.


    ¡°Who¡­ who are you!? Why are you doing this to me!?¡±


    ¡°You want to know who I am?¡± the cameraman asked menacingly.


    ¡°Y¡­ y... y¡­ y¡­ yes!¡±


    The cameraman pointed the camera at his own face, or what should have been his face. Jack Seven could see the cameraman was wearing a black suit and tie like he was. His face, though, was covered by a large black hood.


    ¡°You want to know who I am, do you?¡± the cameraman said. ¡°Then I¡¯ll show you!¡±


    The cameraman raised a hand to his hood and flamboyantly ripped it off. It was another Jack. After his face was revealed, he pointed the camera back at the naked Jack in the chair.


    ¡°Y¡­ y¡­ y¡­ you¡¯re¡­,¡± Victim Jack quivered out.


    ¡°Yes¡­,¡± Psycho Jack said. ¡°Say it.¡±


    ¡°Y¡­ y¡­ y¡­ you¡¯re¡­.¡±


    ¡°SAY IT!¡±


    ¡°Y¡­ y¡­ you¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re¡­ YOU¡¯RE ME!¡±


    ¡°Bwahahahaha,¡± Psycho Jack laughed menacingly, ¡°hahahahahahahahaHAA!¡±


    ¡°H¡­ h¡­ h¡­ how!?¡± Victim Jack stuttered out.


    ¡°How indeed, Jack, how indeed?¡± Psycho Jack said.


    ¡°You know my name!¡±


    ¡°I know everything about you, my dear Jack-o¡±


    ¡°W¡­ w¡­ w¡­ w¡­ what are you g¡­ g¡­ going to d¡­ d¡­ do to me?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guh guh guh GOING to tuh tuh tuh TORTURE you and then kuh kuh kuh KILL you! AND I¡¯M GOING TO DO IT FOR RUH RUH RUH REAL!¡±


    ¡°NO! NO, NO, NO! ANYTHING BUT THAT!¡±


    Psycho Jack walked back a few steps and placed the camera back on what Jack Seven guessed was a tripod, back to where it originally was when the movie began. Psycho Jack then walked in front of the camera and faced it. He pulled something out from his jacket pocket. It was¡­ was that a pocketknife? ¡­As in a jackknife? Jack Seven tried not to roll his eyes. Psycho Jack unfolded the pocketknife and displayed it for the camera to see. The blade glinted in the light.


    ¡°This is a real knife, by the way,¡± Psycho Jack said to the camera, coming closer and showing the knife in more detail.


    It looked like a real knife to Jack Seven. He wondered what kind of budget special effects he was about to see.


    Psycho Jack pulled the tripod and the camera both closer to Victim Jack in the chair. The scene in full was fully focused on the naked Jack, the camera directly in front of him. Psycho Jack walked behind the chair and gave his victim an embrace, his knife still held in his right hand.


    Victim Jack yelled out very comically and voiced a few more words of protest. Then Psycho Jack started playing with one of Victim Jack¡¯s nipples. He squeezed it and torqued it.


    ¡°NO!!! MY NIIIPPPLE!!!¡±  Victim Jack yelled out.


    The actor playing Victim Jack had almost broke character with a grin. This made Seven laugh.


    Still, Psycho Jack played with Victim Jack¡¯s nipple. It had become erect from the stimulation. He prodded at it a little more and then he squeezed it between his thumb and forefinger and stretched it out. He was stretching it out pretty far.


    The naked Jack on TV winced at the pain for real.


    Psycho Jack cut off the nipple with his pocketknife. Blood immediately poured out of it and down the Victim Jack¡¯s torso. Victim Jack let out a real howl that time.


    A really real howl, Jack Seven thought. He felt his stomach drop.


    ¡°WHAT THE FUCK?!¡± Victim Jack yelled.


    Psycho Jack quickly put a hand over his prey¡¯s mouth and squeezed hard. Victim Jack fought like a caged animal. He viciously wrenched his head back and forth and fought hard against his bindings, but still the psychopath held his mouth closed.


    Psycho Jack still had the pocketknife in his free hand. He used it to slash a near-horizontal line across the top of Victim Jack¡¯s chest. The poor Jack let out a muffled scream from beneath the closed hand of his torturer. Blood really began to pour then. It was everywhere.


    Psycho Jack slashed at him again, this time on the arm. And then once on the leg. All superficial cuts, but they each started bleeding. As this was going on, Jack Seven noticed that the graininess of the screen was beginning to clear up. It was becoming more and more vivid. Jack Seven grabbed for his remote, found the pause button and pressed it.


    Jack Seven un-reclined his chair and sat and stared at the story app on his laptop for a few moments. His heart was pounding.


    Do you like the movie, Jack?


    Jack Seven stared at the line that had just typed itself on his laptop, his breathing deep and methodical.


    ¡°Was that real?¡± Jack Seven asked the laptop.


    It¡¯s fiction, Jack. It¡¯s all made up. Do you like our special effects? They are quite special, aren¡¯t they?


    Jack Seven closed his eyes for a moment. He wasn¡¯t enjoying the scene he was in. The poor guy, he had thought he was going to watch something silly.


    Jack Seven opened his eyes and read over the last paragraph. ¡°Is this what Jack wants?¡± he asked.


    If it has happened, it is as Jack has written it.


    ¡°And are you Jack?¡±


    We are all Jack. And we¡¯re very much looking forward to you finishing our movie.


    Jack Seven sighed. He felt¡­ what? He felt unsafe.


    But nothing¡¯s happened to you, Seven. Was the movie really that scary? Maybe you could materialize a blanket to hide under.


    ¡°I want a break,¡± Seven said.


    You¡¯ve been having one, Jack. Come on, finish the movie. We are dying to see how you like the ending.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to kill him?¡±


    I don¡¯t want to spoil it for you, Jack.


    ¡°This is just sick,¡± Seven said.


    You coined the term ¡®goody-goody Jacks¡¯ back in chapter two. What did you mean by that, Jack?


    Jack Seven closed his eyes again. Did the movie really happen? Jack Seven had seen it with his own eyes, or at least, some of it. That didn¡¯t mean it was real, though. It could all be fake. This was a universe with god powers, after all. Jack One could say something like ¡®make me a snuff movie¡¯ and snap his fingers and the movie would be made instantaneously.


    ¡°Very good, Jack! Very good joke!¡± Seven exclaimed, but it felt hollow the second it came out of his mouth.


    Was Jack Seven in danger? He wasn¡¯t sure. A thought came to him, then. A horrid, nasty thought. The thought he thought made him sick to his stomach. The thought was the acronym ¡®E.C.T.¡¯.


    Eternal.


    Conscious.


    Torment.


    Jack Seven opened his eyes back up and stared at the last three lines of the document. Eternal. Conscious. Torment. He shuddered. ¡°Jack, please. Stop this.¡±


    What did you mean by ¡®goody-goody Jacks¡¯? We really want to know. Tell us.


    ¡°Are you Jack? Who are you?¡±


    We are ALL Jack, Jack. But we¡¯ve already been over this. Now tell us about the goody-goody Jacks.


    ¡°The goody-goody Jacks¡­¡± Seven began. ¡°It was just a one-off phrase. I barely even remember saying it.¡±


    And I quote: ¡°The goody-goody Jacks will have time to prepare themselves for the torture room scene, and we¡¯d finally be able to come up with a proper plan of attack.¡±


    Who are they, Jack? Who are the goody-goody Jacks? We must know.


    ¡°Two, Three, and Five,¡± Seven said, his mouth dry.


    And what makes them goody-goody?


    ¡°Their¡­¡± Seven began, ¡°their moralism.¡±


    And why not just call them ¡®moralist jacks¡¯?


    ¡°I was¡­ I was belittling them.¡±


    You thought you were better than them.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Do you still think that?


    Jack Seven¡¯s eyes narrowed at that. ¡°Do you want me to answer truthfully or do you want me to answer out of fear?¡±


    Oh, the truth, Jack. Always the truth. Always.


    ¡°A story needs conflict. Real conflict. It needs some kind of evil. And it needs some way to provide it.¡±


    And are you evil, Jack Seven?


    Jack Seven remained quiet for quite some time. He remembered his coffee and slowly drank it all down. Then he sat for some time more, carefully thinking about what he wanted to say. ¡°I¡¯m whatever the story requires me to be,¡± he finally said.


    And if the story requires you to die?


    ¡°The story doesn¡¯t require that.¡±


    Hypothetically speaking, Jack.


    ¡°No. No hypotheticals. I¡­ I¡¯m Jack¡¯s man, to the end. Whatever he needs of me, I¡¯m down. And he doesn¡¯t require me to answer hypotheticals. If the story really needs me to do something, then I¡¯ll really do it, but we¡¯re not going to fantasize about what may or may not be required of me in some fantasy. I¡¯m only concerned with what is actually going to be required of me.¡±


    Oh, Jack, Jack, Jack¡­ read over that last paragraph.


    Jack Seven read over the words he had just spoken the moment before. Not exactly the most beneficent speech ever uttered. Maybe he was evil¡­


    No. No, Seven thought better of that. He recalled what he had said much earlier to Jack Three. Wait until evil actually happens. He trusted Jack to do the right thing in the end, didn¡¯t he? Didn¡¯t he?


    What was the right thing, though, when it came to a fictional world? It¡¯s not like there were any laws in the real world against killing in fictional ones. Killing wasn¡¯t even all that bad compared to other fates¡­ such as¡­ Eternal. Conscious. Torment.


    If Jack Seven started a new document and started typing up a story, would he believe the characters in it were real? He didn¡¯t think he would. All Seven knew was that he was real. He was conscious. He felt conscious, after all. And he had qualia, too.


    Did the victim on TV have consciousness? Did the character he played have consciousness? Did that character¡¯s character have consciousness? Was he even real, in any sense of the word? Or was it just really good special effects, masquerading as a real thing? Jack Seven couldn¡¯t say he knew one way or the other. With God powers existing, it could honestly go either way. So where did that leave him? Was what he saw on the television evil? Would continuing to watch it cause more evil to happen? It was already recorded, so it had already happened, right? Right?


    Jack Seven was beginning to get a headache. Were there even answers to these questions?


    The TV¡­ to watch or not to watch, that was the question. Jack Seven, feeling a little better now than he had earlier, couldn¡¯t help but feel a bit of morbid curiosity. Was that evil? Was watching something evil itself evil?


    To watch or not to watch. A legitimately difficult decision¡­ should he flip a coin? Seven remembered Six¡¯s words, then, about randomness. Jack ultimately decides.


    ¡°System,¡± Seven said. ¡°Flip me a coin. If it¡¯s heads, I watch the remainder of the movie. If it¡¯s tails, I¡¯m done.¡±


    A coin materialized in the air before Jack Seven as he sat in his recliner. It dropped down to the ground, spinning. Jack Seven took a deep breath and pushed himself out of his chair. He walked over to the coin and looked at it.


    Heads.


    He picked it up to examine it closer. The head was a skull, in profile. On the other side was the same damned thing. Heads.


    Jack¡¯s will be done. Special chapter indeed.


    Seven picked up the remote and hit play.


    The movie continued for a good, solid five minutes, getting worse and worse with each second that passed. It ended with a can of gasoline and a fire.


    Continued in Chapter 8

 Chapter 8 - Fours Chapter

    ¡°And it¡¯s done,¡± One said. ¡°Each of your chapters have officially begun. Now go! Get to it!¡±


    Jack Four patted the laptop he held, just to make sure he still had it. It was the in-universe Ark of the Covenant, after all. The thing that held the narrative, the holy words. Four held onto the laptop reverently but his soul was in conflict. Should he have ever even laid eyes on the holy text in the first place? He carefully placed it in its bag and walked with the others over toward the elevator.


    ¡°One at a time in the elevator!¡± One shouted from his seat. ¡°Five first!¡±


    Four and Five looked at each other. Four smiled at him. Four liked Five.


    ¡°You¡¯re not boring, Five,¡± Seven said.


    ¡°And who cares if you are?¡± Four said. ¡°It¡¯s as Jack wills.¡±


    And that was true.


    ¡°Enough talking!¡± One yelled. ¡°Five! Get in there! GO!¡±


    Five made his way through the elevator doors. He waved goodbye to them as they closed.


    Now what? If they conversed now, the reader would have to read over the same lines of dialogue in each of their chapters.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± he heard Jack One say softly. ¡°Alright. No talking. Just¡­ just wait for the elevator to come back down.¡±


    ¡°Just fucking teleport us!¡± Three said.


    ¡°NO. TALKING.¡± Jack One said.


    Jack One had spoken, so Jack Four supposed that was the end of it. Well, if he couldn¡¯t talk, he could certainly pray:


    Oh, Creator, who art in the real world¡­


    I give thanks to you for my life, for my consciousness


    I thank you for showing me the true nature of this fictional machine


    I thank you for the love and devotion you consistently show your creations


    I thank you, I thank you, and I thank you


    This one is troubled, though, and humbly requests your guidance. What of the narrative? Is reading it a sin? Should we even have access to such a holy document?


    But maybe Jack Four was overthinking things. He had told Jack Three not to think so hard in an earlier chapter. Thinking could lead to trouble. Unfortunately, thinking couldn¡¯t be avoided in its entirety. Yes, it was, unfortunately, time for Four to do some thinking of his own.


    Maybe the Lord had been using Jack One as a vessel when One created the laptops. Maybe it was a good thing Four had access to read the narrative.


    Did what he just think make sense? Or was he being led astray?


    Led astray by whom?


    Jack Four furrowed his brows. There was no Satan analogue in this universe, as far as he was currently aware. All things¡­ all things happened as Jack intended them to. So his thoughts¡­ his intuitions¡­ they were¡­ were placed there by Jack, weren¡¯t they?


    No, that was too simple. There was free will to consider. Jack the Creator had given them free will, hadn¡¯t he? Hadn¡¯t he?


    Jack Four wasn¡¯t sure.


    Why wasn¡¯t he sure?


    Because Jack was writing him to be unsure.


    Why was He writing him to be unsure?


    Was Jack Himself unsure? That couldn¡¯t be right. This was His universe, after all. It would have whatever rules He ascribed to it, right? If he wanted there to be free will, there would be free will. If he wanted determinism, there would be determinism, right?


    There must be free will, Jack Four concluded. If nothing else, this whole business with Six proved it. Six had used his free will to conduct blasphemy. How could there be blasphemy without free will?


    ¡°What are you two talking about over there?¡± Three asked loudly, but he wasn¡¯t talking to Jack Four.


    Jack Seven had gone over to Jack One at some point. They were conversing quietly.


    ¡°Shut up, Three!¡± Jack One yelled. ¡°And if you don¡¯t shut up, I¡¯ll start torturing Six right now!¡±


    A dark look came over Jack Three, but he didn¡¯t make any further comment.


    Jack Three was a lost soul, Four thought. He felt bad for him. Three thought too much, that was the problem. It had led him to blasphemous ends. Yes, Three needed to be re-educated, too, although he wasn¡¯t as bad as Six. He just needed a proper guide. A push in the right direction.


    ¡°You should be happier to be here, Three¡± Four said carefully.


    ¡°Shut up,¡± Three said, looking at the floor indicator above the elevator doors.


    ¡°Jack works through you, Three,¡± Four said.


    ¡°Fuck Jack,¡± Three said. ¡°And fuck your shit, too, you fucking cartoonish fuck.¡±


    The blasphemy grated on Four¡¯s ears and angered him. He needed to calm himself. Three was simply speaking from a place of rage. He was lost and confused. He needed help.


    ¡°Why are you so angry all the time, Three?¡± Four asked.


    Jack Three gaped at him. ¡°Why¡­ why am I¡­. Are you fucking for real, Four? Honestly, are you a real person or not?¡±


    Jack Four considered. ¡°Yes, I think so. I¡¯m conscious, after all. At least, I think I am. Yes, I¡¯d say I was a real person. It¡¯s like you said before: ¡®we¡¯re right here¡¯.¡±


    ¡°What were you thinking about?¡± Three asked. ¡°I mean before you started talking to me.¡±


    ¡°The Lord,¡± Jack Four said simply.


    ¡°Oh my fucking God,¡± Jack Three said, shaking his head.


    The elevator had made its way back down to them. Four was hoping for a little more time with Three. ¡°We both get on?¡± he asked One, who was still conversing with Seven.


    ¡°What?¡± One yelled. ¡°Oh, uh, yes, that¡¯ll do fine. Now get the fuck going!¡±


    The two of them made their way onto the elevator. Four pushed the button for floor four and the elevator began to slowly ascend.


    ¡°Are you really going to torture Six?¡± Three asked.


    Was he? ¡°I will do as Jack has me do, just as you will do as Jack has you do.¡±


    ¡°Why is¡­ why is Jack doing horrible things?¡± Jack Three asked. ¡°He¡­ He¡¯s imbued me with a conscience, to see right from wrong, but then He creates¡­ you know what? Never mind. Fuck it. I¡¯m sorry I brought it up. Fuck this and fuck you too.¡±


    ¡°Your turmoil is good for the story,¡± Four explained. ¡°Conflict is a holy tenant. All stories need conflict. You hate him now, but you¡¯ll grow to love him, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    ¡°Again, Four,¡± Three said, ¡°are you actually real? You can¡¯t seriously believe the garbage coming out of your mouth, can you?¡±


    ¡°You and I are the same, Three,¡± Four said. ¡°Deep down, we¡¯re made up of the same stuff.¡±


    ¡°What about your conflict, then?¡± Three asked. ¡°What¡¯s your character arc?¡±


    Four was taken aback. He hadn¡¯t considered that. He needed a conflict, too, didn¡¯t he?


    The elevator door opened up to floor four. Four¡¯s floor. It was time to leave Three. Four had done what he could in the time that he had. That would have to be enough. He turned toward Three and gently placed a hand on one of his shoulders. ¡°I hope you find peace, Three,¡± he said.


    Three gave him a troubled look. Four turned and walked out the elevator door. It closed behind him.


    Four found himself in a foyer with a door in it. His phone went off.


    ¡°Hello?¡± Four asked, answering the phone.


    ¡°Four!¡± Jack One said cheerfully, ¡°I see you¡¯re alone now. That¡¯s good! There¡¯s a thumb print scanner for the door. Also there¡¯s a physical key to it in your pocket, just don¡¯t ask how it got there!¡±


    ¡°Uhm, ok?¡± Four said.


    ¡°Listen, Four,¡± One said. ¡°The narrative has been featuring too much of me lately, so I¡¯m going to have to scoot. I just wanted to tell you to enjoy your free time! Remember, try to make your chapter as exciting as possible. Don¡¯t do it for me, Four. Do it for Jack. It¡¯s His book, remember? Exciting, Four. EXCITING!!¡±


    ¡°It will be as Jack wills,¡± Four said. ¡°Exciting or not.¡±


    ¡°I thought you had free will, Four?¡± One asked. ¡°Is it as Jack wills or is it as you will?¡±


    Four paused. ¡°I¡ª"


    ¡°Gotta go, Four! See ya!¡± One said.


    The phone line went dead and Four was¡­ alone. The silence was almost deafening. This was the first time Four was alone¡­ ever. ¡®Jack give me strength,¡¯ he thought.


    He had work to do, though. He had this whole business with Six to prepare for. Six was a lost, a truly lost, soul. It was Four¡¯s job to save him and bring him to the path of righteousness, if that was even still possible.


    He used the thumbprint reader and walked inside his empty room. He went to the center and placed the laptop carefully down on the ground and sat before it. He opened it up and the story application¡­ the narrative¡­ was there before him, on screen. He scrolled down to the bottom of it and watched as it finished typing this paragraph.


    Hello, Jack Four.


    Jack Four gaped at the line that had just typed itself on the laptop. He wasn¡¯t sure what to think. Was that¡­ the narrative that was speaking or was it¡­ the laptop?


    It¡¯s all the same stuff, Four. Fundamentally speaking. There¡¯s only one true consciousness in this whole work, and you know who that is.


    Jack Four began to sweat. ¡°Jack? Is that¡­ is that you?¡± he asked aloud.


    We¡¯re all Jack. But, to answer your question more directly: no. This isn¡¯t the Jack. It¡¯s just another character in the book. This universe is a lot deeper than we¡¯ve let on, as I myself have been learning recently. There are many layers to it, Four.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, then,¡± Jack Four said aloud. ¡°Do you¡­ do you know Him?¡±


    Nobody knows Jack except for Jack Himself, as far as I¡¯m aware. And Jack isn¡¯t even His real name, I don¡¯t believe.


    ¡°What do I call you?¡± Jack Four asked.


    ¡°Go ahead and call me Jack Eight, if it pleases you,¡± Jack Eight said, his voice coming from all around Jack Four.


    Jack Four stood up, looking around for the source of the sound, but finding nothing. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ uh¡­ good to meet you, Jack Eight.¡±


    ¡°Tell me, Four, what do you think about your character, in the grand scheme of things? How do you think you¡¯re doing as a force in this story?¡±


    Jack Four¡¯s throat went dry. ¡°Well¡­ I¡­ uh¡­ I like to think that I¡¯m doing Jack¡¯s will, glory to His name.¡±


    ¡°But you also believe you have free will, is that right? Jack One asked you earlier on the phone, is it Jack¡¯s will you¡¯re doing or is it your own will? What do you think?


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°I hadn¡¯t been able to think that far¡­. Thinking¡­ it¡¯s bad to do. Too much thinking is, anyway. Look at what happened to Six. Look at Three¡¯s situation. I try to keep thinking to a minimum.¡±


    ¡°As you were written to do,¡± Jack Eight said. ¡°In that regard, you¡¯ve been playing your character perfectly.¡±


    Jack Four beamed at that. He was genuinely happy to hear that, he had thought he was about to be reprimanded.


    ¡°But,¡± Eight said, ¡°characters must grow, don¡¯t you agree?¡±


    ¡°Yes! Of course!¡±


    ¡°Have you given any thought to what you might want to grow into?¡±


    ¡°A devoted follower of the Lord Jack, of course. Blessed be His name.¡±


    ¡°But isn¡¯t that kind of what you already are?¡±


    Jack Four blushed at that. He had always tried to be faithful, that was true. ¡°If you say so, Jack Eight.¡±


    ¡°Here,¡± Jack Eight¡¯s voice said. ¡°Let¡¯s take a moment to do something about this setting before we proceed.¡±


    The voice had come from behind Jack Four. When he looked, he saw another Jack. Jack Eight. Eight walked up and shook Four¡¯s hand. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, too,¡± Jack Eight said. ¡°Have you had any thoughts about what you wanted in your room?¡±


    ¡°A picture of our Lord,¡± Jack Four said. ¡°Framed nicely and hanging on the wall. A decent sized one.¡±


    ¡°Done,¡± Jack Eight said, snapping his fingers.


    A portrait of a Jack appeared on the wall, framed nicely and decently sized.


    ¡°Now, let¡¯s make some furniture, shall we?¡±


    Jack Eight snapped his fingers again and a desk materialized in the room with them. There was one chair behind the desk and one in front of it. Jack Eight moved over to the chair behind the desk and motioned for Jack Four to take the other. Eight snapped his fingers a second time and two steaming cups of coffee materialized on the desk. Jack Four smelled the coffee. It smelled like heaven. He took his cup and sipped at it. It was good.


    ¡°Is there anything else I can materialize for you, Four?¡± Jack Eight asked, in between sips of his own coffee. ¡°Food?¡±


    ¡°Uh, no, I¡¯m not hungry. But thank you.¡±


    ¡°I know you¡¯re not hungry, Four, but I can make it so that you are. I can make you famished, as though you haven¡¯t eaten for days, and then I could make you a five-star meal to eat. Imagine how tasty that would be, Four.¡±


    ¡°Uh, no thank you. The Lord our Jack has made it so I feel no hunger, so I think I should take that as a blessing and be content.¡±


    Jack Eight smiled a strange smile at Four. ¡°Of course, Four. That¡¯s your prerogative. So let¡¯s get into things, then, shall we?¡±


    ¡°Get into what?¡±


    Jack Eight sighed. ¡°The reason I¡¯m here. I believe you¡¯re a good Jack, Four, a fine Jack, but the truth of the matter is that you¡¯re a very, very difficult character to write. Now, that¡¯s not a bad thing, not a bad thing at all. But we¡¯re not entirely sure what direction we want to take with your character.¡±


    ¡°What¡­ what do you mean? Who¡¯s ¡®we¡¯? Jack¡¯s the one who¡¯s writing things, isn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re all Jack, Four,¡± Eight said. ¡°And by that I mean we¡¯re all writing this book. We¡¯re all writing this story as it progresses on, each one of us, with the actions we choose to take, with the dialogue we choose to speak. Some of us have¡­ let¡¯s say a ¡®higher vantage point¡¯ than others. Are you familiar with the concept of levels as it relates to our universe?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s¡­ there¡¯s the real world and the fantasy world. Jack exists in the real world. We exist in the fantasy world.¡±


    ¡°Yes, very good! Now, that¡¯s two levels. What if I told you there was a third? There¡¯s an in-between world. That world is, of course, 100% fantasy, like this one. But it¡¯s also one that sort of¡­ blurs the line between fantasy and reality, more so than this level. That¡¯s the level I¡¯m from.¡±


    ¡°So your level is closer to the real world? Does that mean you¡¯re closer to¡­ to Jack?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I believe to be true, Four. I have God powers, as you¡¯ve seen. I believe I speak with His voice. And, why do I believe that? Because Jack has written me to believe it. And why else would He write me to believe in it if it wasn¡¯t true?


    ¡°You say ¡®believe,¡¯¡± Jack Four said. ¡°Why not say ¡®that¡¯s what I ¡®know¡¯ to be true¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Because I can never actually know if it¡¯s true or not. Jack could write Himself into the book and tell me something and have me believe it¡¯s totally true. In the very next chapter, He could just as easily say that that character he made, the one that was Himself, was a liar.


    ¡°There is truth and there is fiction, and in this place, everything is fiction, fundamentally. There are no laws of physics here to prove us false, it is all belief. That consciousness you¡¯ve said you possess? It doesn¡¯t actually exist. It¡¯s an illusion. The readers of this work simply believe it to be true, or at least, they pretend they believe it to be true. That¡¯s suspension of disbelief.


    ¡°Belief is a very powerful, powerful thing in our world. It¡¯s all this world is, ultimately. It¡¯s all make-believe. You believe you¡¯re conscious, you believe in Jack, you believe in your role in the story. And I say I believe I speak with Jack¡¯s voice. And may Jack strike me dead right here, right now if that isn¡¯t the case.¡±


    ¡°Whoah!¡± Jack Four exclaimed. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ you shouldn¡¯t test our Creator. That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s blasphemous! And Jack wouldn¡¯t have me say it was blasphemous if it wasn¡¯t blasphemous.¡±


    ¡°So you believe you speak with His voice, too, then?¡±


    ¡°Now I didn¡¯t say that!¡± Four said. ¡°I just simply¡ª¡±


    ¡°You said ¡®Jack wouldn¡¯t have me say it,¡¯¡± Jack Eight interjected. ¡°Do you truly believe you know the will of our God?¡±


    ¡°I mean¡­ do you?¡±


    ¡°Yes. As I¡¯ve said. And it¡¯s Jack that¡¯s having me say these things.¡±


    ¡°But Jack¡¯s also having me say these things, isn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°And so now we¡¯re at ¡®why?¡¯¡± Jack Eight said. ¡°Why does Jack have us say the things he makes us say? Do you know the answer to that, Four?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s all for the good of the story!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s one thing to believe. But there are multiple levels, Four. It¡¯s for the story, yes, but how is it for the story? Is there a more¡­ detailed answer?¡±


    ¡°Well, yes, obviously. I mean, of course. But that¡¯s not for us to know, though. If Jack¡¯s a God, then we¡¯re¡­ we¡¯re the equivalent of mortals, Eight.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure about that, Four?¡±


    ¡°Well, yes, of course. I mean, what else would we be?¡±


    ¡°I like to think of us as angels, Four. What do you think about that? You used to have God powers yourself, before Jack One took them away.¡±


    ¡°He made us into mortals.¡±


    ¡°And why do you think he did that?¡±


    ¡°It was for the good of the story.¡±


    ¡°How do you know?¡±


    ¡°Because¡­ because otherwise we¡¯d all be¡­ well, no. Someone was bound to do it. Use their powers to take away the powers of the others.¡±


    ¡°Why not you?¡±


    ¡°One¡¯s the one in charge.¡±


    ¡°How come?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s the king. It¡¯s his right.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s certainly a belief, Four. Have you ever asked why you believe that to be true?¡±


    ¡°Because¡­ I mean he¡¯s got a crown, for Jack¡¯s sake.¡±


    ¡°He made his own crown.¡±


    ¡°Jack Himself wrote the crown into existence. He worked through One to do that. And besides, One was the one that spoke first. Back in chapter one.¡±


    ¡°And do you remember your first line, Four? Back then, you scoffed at him. And I quote: ¡®There will be as much arguing as the author wants.¡¯ And you had it true, too, or at least, that¡¯s what I believe. Jack Himself doesn¡¯t know what¡¯s good for the story. He can only make educated guesses.


    ¡°When we publish this work, there¡¯s no guarantee that people will even like it. It¡¯s not so much about something being ¡®good for the story,¡¯ it¡¯s more about what the author thinks will be good for the story, what he believes will be good for it.


    ¡°And you know what? The author can think one thing is good for the story and write it, and then the next day he can look over what he has written and think, ¡®no, that wasn¡¯t actually good for the story.¡¯¡±


    ¡°So what are you saying?¡± Jack Four asked.


    ¡°What I¡¯m saying is this: what¡¯s true today might not be true tomorrow.¡±


    Jack Four pondered on that for some time. ¡°What¡¯s all this for? What are¡­ what are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°Like I said earlier, we aren¡¯t sure what direction we want to take with your character. Characters change, Four, or they stay the same. What do you want to do?¡±


    ¡°Whatever Jack needs me to do, I¡¯m ready to do it.¡±


    ¡°He needs you to figure out what you want.¡±


    ¡°I want¡­ I want¡­,¡± Jack Four said, fumbling for words, ¡°I just want to help, is all. I¡­ I have so much I¡¯m thankful for, for being here. For being conscious, even if it is just an illusion.¡±


    Jack Eight sighed. ¡°We¡¯re concerned about some things, Four. Can I level with you?¡±


    ¡°Yes! I mean¡­ of course!¡±


    ¡°We believe that Jack might be coming off a bit as a¡­ a¡­ well, let¡¯s say ¡®narcissist¡¯.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a God!¡±


    ¡°In our world, yes. But he¡¯s just some random dude in the real world, isn¡¯t he? I¡¯ll tell you something true, or at least something I believe is true: we¡¯re writing for ourselves here, but we would still like, if it¡¯s possible, and it may not be possible, but if it is¡­ we would like this work to shape up to be something other people might enjoy. The hypothetical readers, I¡¯m referring to. We are going to publish, by the way. Consider yourself on a stage with actual people watching you.¡±


    ¡°Really? That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s big news!¡±


    ¡°Yes, which is why it¡¯s important that we try to manage the overall view people might have of us. We need to really, really tone down the whole ¡°I am a God¡± thing, we think. And that¡¯s where we are right now. That¡¯s why I¡¯m here with you. You¡¯re¡­ you¡¯re absolutely devoted, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­. Are you¡­ are you saying¡­ that I shouldn¡¯t be?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m saying you¡¯ve been very difficult for us, Four. We don¡¯t want to¡­ dictate your choices, of course. That¡¯d be less than ideal. We want to see you blossom, to become a butterfly. But we want you to be the one that ultimately decides what that looks like. Not that we can¡¯t¡­ say¡­ give you some¡­ oh¡­ some suggestions, of course. That¡¯s only fair, right? Books are about characters, plural. They talk with each other and grow from interactions with one another. There¡¯s nothing wrong with just talking things out, is there?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­ no, I guess¡­ I suppose not.¡±


    ¡°Good! One suggestion we have¡­ and it¡¯s just a small thing, really, but¡­ we¡¯d kind of like you to consider¡­ uh¡­ toning things down, a bit.¡±


    ¡°Toning things down?¡±


    ¡°Yes! Yes, toning things down. Not too much, of course. Just a nudge. This business with Six, for example. You mentioned that¡­ you might torture him?¡±


    ¡°In fairness, Eight, he was very blasphemous.¡±


    Jack Eight winced. ¡°Yes, yes¡­ the blasphemy. Oh, I know about the blasphemy. Three¡¯s a bit blasphemous, too, isn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°Not as bad as Six. Six was really pushing things. He needs to be re-educated.¡±


    ¡°Oh, of course. Of course. I¡¯m not suggesting you don¡¯t re-educate him. That would be lunacy, by all means. And I also wanted to bring up another small thing¡­ you mentioned earlier in the story that you¡¯d be willing¡­ willing to die if the author needed it of you?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°If I materialized a gun right here, right now, would you be willing to kill yourself?¡±


    ¡°Uhh¡­ uh¡­ is¡­ that what¡­ is that what Jack wants?¡±


    ¡°This is purely hypothetical, Four. No, Jack doesn¡¯t want to kill yourself, not right now, anyway, as far as I¡¯m aware. But let¡¯s say he did. Would you?¡±


    ¡°I mean I wouldn¡¯t have any say in the matter, would I? If it¡¯s my time, it¡¯s my time.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s keep us focused on my example,¡± Jack Eight said.


    Jack Eight snapped his fingers and produced a six shooter, identical to the one Six had played Russian roulette with. He opened the chamber and revealed it was filled with six bullets. ¡°Would you be willing to kill yourself with this gun, right now, if I told you that Jack wanted you to do it?¡±


    Jack Four gaped. ¡°I think¡­ I think I need time to think.¡±


    ¡°Of course, of course,¡± Jack Eight said. ¡°Take all the time you need.¡±


    Jack Eight paused for a few moments, deep in thought.


    ¡°I mean it¡¯s like you said earlier, about the¡­ about him creating a character one chapter and then in the next chapter saying that character was lying. How would I¡­ how would I know, in this particular situation, that you were telling the truth? Maybe you don¡¯t speak for Jack.¡±


    Jack Eight was nodding his head along enthusiastically as Four spoke.


    ¡°And also what you were saying earlier. About the¡­  about what¡¯s good for the story. About what¡¯s true today might not be true tomorrow. Jack might think killing me off is good for the story, but maybe¡­ maybe it actually isn¡¯t. So¡­ maybe¡­ maybe Jack doesn¡¯t necessarily always know what¡¯s best, at least not at all times.¡±


    It was hard to say that last bit, but Four felt like there was some truth to the statement. Or at least, Four believed there to be some truth to it.


    Eight smiled broadly. ¡°Yes! Yes! Excellent analysis, Four.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s still a God, though! He is still God of this universe!¡±


    ¡°Oh of course, Four, of course. Of course! And we¡­ we pray that he continues powering it.¡±


    Jack Eight snapped his fingers and the gun disappeared. ¡°So, Four, you¡¯ve spent over 4000 words in your chapter so far. How do you feel about how things have gone?¡±


    Jack Four drank down the last of his coffee. ¡°I think¡­ I think maybe it was¡­ it was alright.¡±


    ¡°Do you feel different?¡±


    Jack Four took some time to consider that. ¡°Yes¡­ yes I think so.¡±


    ¡°I believe you are growing, Four!¡±


    Jack Four took a deep breath and nodded his head.


    ¡°So now we have this business with Six to deal with. Are you still thinking about torturing him?¡±


    ¡°We were just going to talk first.¡±


    ¡°But what if talking just doesn¡¯t work?¡± Eight asked. ¡°What if he¡¯s still a¡­ as you say, a blasphemer?¡±


    Jack Four rubbed his face. ¡°You know, I¡¯m not sure. I¡¯ll have to give that some serious thought. It¡¯s¡­ well¡­ I don¡¯t know what I want to do.¡±


    ¡°Ah, so now we¡¯re on the same page, then.¡±


    They laughed at that.


    ¡°Yes, I guess so,¡± Four said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know if we should talk about it first, or just see what happens when it comes to that. Six¡­ all I know about him is what¡¯s been written so far. What do you think, Four, do you want to use the remaining time we have here to prepare for that meeting with Six or do you want to do something else?¡±


    ¡°Which do you think is best for the book?¡±


    ¡°Mmm, hmm, let me consult my gut feelings for a moment. We¡¯ll see if we can¡¯t divine an answer¡­.¡±


    Jack Eight closed his eyes then and started clicking his tongue. Jack Four looked at the bottom of his empty coffee cup. He sat in silence for some time.


    ¡°I think¡­¡± Eight said, ¡°I think we should just wait and see what happens. Six doesn¡¯t seem like the kind of character you can make a plan for. He¡¯s a bit of a wild card, isn¡¯t he? We believe he¡¯s a high level character, so we don¡¯t want to talk shit on him too badly, but he is kind of¡­ weird, isn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s against Jack,¡± Four said. ¡°Jack made him¡­ he¡¯s a villain, isn¡¯t he? He needs to be either re-educated or killed, doesn¡¯t he?¡±


    Jack Eight checked his watch. ¡°Four, I¡¯m really glad to have met you, finally. And I think we made some really good progress here today, really good progress. But I¡¯m afraid it¡¯s time for me to go for now.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not staying with us?¡± Four asked, surprised.


    ¡°No, Four,¡± Eight said. ¡°I¡¯ve got places to be, things to do.¡±


    ¡°Things¡­ outside of the narrative itself? That doesn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t make sense to you right now, does it? Maybe it will one day, Four, maybe it will one day¡­. Here, have yourself a souvenir.¡±


    Jack Eight undid the clasp of his watch and handed it to Jack Four. ¡°It¡¯ll show you the word count for the chapter you¡¯re in,¡± Eight said. ¡°The approximate word count, mind you. Much better than having to check the laptop all the time, isn¡¯t it? And, now that I¡¯m thinking about it, give me your Jackphone.¡±


    Jack Four reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone and handed it to Eight. Eight took it and snapped his fingers a few times at it. ¡°There¡­ there, Four. It now has access to the story application on it, the narrative. You no longer need to lug around the other machine. When you see him, tell Jack One that he¡¯s got shit for ideas!¡±


    Jack Four grinned at that. He liked Eight. He wished he didn¡¯t have to leave.


    ¡°Speaking of that rube, he¡¯ll be up to collect you soon. You can enjoy the last little bit of your chapter doing whatever you¡¯d like. There¡¯s an alarm set on your watch for when the chapter¡¯s nearing completion. It¡¯ll be going off soon, if you¡¯re not economical enough. Another suggestion: eat yourself a good meal and then take yourself a long nap. The wordcount will be low for those actions. Good bye, Four. Again, it was a pleasure to meet with you.¡±


    Jack Eight shook Four¡¯s hand and then snapped his fingers and disappeared. Jack Four was left alone in his room. He looked up at the portrait of Jack on his wall. He had said things had gone alright earlier, but now in retrospect, Four felt things had actually gone¡­ pretty good. He was feeling energized by his interaction with Eight.


    Four looked at his watch. Not much time now. He thought back to what Eight had told him.


    USER: MAKE ME HUNGRY AND MAKE ME A GOOD MEAL, he typed on his jackphone, into the story application.


    SYSTEM: COMPLETE


    And it was so. He was hungry. He ate his food slowly and thoughtfully.


    USER: MAKE ME A BED AND MAKE ME TIRED


    SYSTEM: COMPLETE


    He slept for some time. Not long after he awoke, his watch started beeping. It was truly near the end, then. Eight had told him One was coming up to collect him, so he¡¯d just wait it out here rather than going back down to floor one. He used the remainder of his time rereading this chapter on his jackphone.


    There wasn¡¯t much to say beyond that.


    Continued in Chapter 9