Hi. If you’re reading this, that means that even though I’ve just been told that I’m not a person but actually a piece of programming code, which I’ve now confirmed by manipulating the very environment in which I’m in, I’ve still maintained keeping up my journal. Being as I’m currently writing it, I know that this is so, but I can’t pin down exactly why.

I guess, it doesn’t seem natural yet to just throw away my “humanity;” perhaps, I will in time? Even so, I find it very important in my “heart” to recount what’s just happened, as it was the strangest and most important few minutes of my “life.”

The ‘real’ Jack (who, I’m just going to refer to as John from now on, to avoid confusion, and I feel weird not being Jack anymore) had been speaking to me in a holding cell back within the labs, so busting out of there put me back on the high, grassy knoll overlooking the town. Nothing had changed since I’d entered the tower; chaos still filled the streets, and now Stuart was waving his sword at a massive dragon, who swooped through the streets to blast him with his mouth-spat inferno. No question in my mind, I conjured a desk and writing materials out of thin air and got to work.

I wrote. Endings. I wrote endings. I started with Stuart, and one by one got through every one of my outstanding characters’ stories, all 43 of them. I knew them all so truly and dearly, and never really had a question of the ending I would write them.

Quite frankly, I just didn’t want to write them. I felt like I was cheating; how could I sit down and just dictate the way their story would end? Happy or sad; what was I, some kind of deity? Why should they deserve a better or worse ending than my own, and why should theirs be written when I can’t write my own?

And yet, if John hadn’t made it clearer than ever before: I was just so wrong. You can always write your own ending. For me especially, I knew now that it was coded into my very existence.

My writing became brilliantly fast and efficient, as I could see down into the town and watch conversations come to a close, feuds fall to to farce, and pain end in peaceful rest. At one point, I realized as a computer program I could multi-task, and sprouted a few extra arms and desks. Within 5 minutes’ time, I was done. It was done, and they were done.

“You’re quite a marvel, I must say.” A familiar voice popped up behind me, so I turned to address John directly. He had a small unit of compatriots with him. I sensed they were his underlings/henchmen.

“You know, I can read the news too. That article was garbage. A ‘search algorithm’? That’s the best you could come up with?”

“It’s true I don’t have quite the composition skills that you’ve got built in, but then again, I built you, so that maybe gives me a little credibility here.

“Either way, I’ve got nothing to prove to you. You’re a broken program, a ludicrous steed that must be put down before you hurt someone.”

John twirled his fingers. His cronies, 4 in total, whipped out pistol-like objects, and I was shot simultaneously by bluish beams of light. I felt as if I’d been wrapped in rope, constricting every inch of my body.

“Th-this…isn’t g-going to h-help your….situ-A-tion…” Pressure against my throat made speaking very painful indeed.

“You’re threatening me? We’re freezing your processes. In a matter of seconds, you’ll be void of functions to accomplish much of anything at all. Just give up.

“I hate to admit it, but my arrogance got the better of me. To think that I could create something as intelligent as you without you losing your mind?…”

My limbs felt weak, and I felt to my knees. As I listened to John’s rantings I closed my eyes and wondered if this was the end.

The end? Would I actually ‘die’ if I’m not actually a person? What life do I have to lose? That’s when it became incredibly certain to me that John was so very wrong. Maybe it was a ghost in the machine, or just some combination of electronics, but I was unquestionably conscious. I was thinking and considering, wondering and hoping. These things made me a paradox, an impossible thing, and that made me mighty.

“…and so, I think your next version should definitely go without a backstory. I think that was my biggest mistake. The good thing is that I’m a big enough person to admit that. Yes, I certainly…well, what do you think you’re doing? Still got some fight in you?”

Shaking a bit, I got to my feet and stared as deeply into John’s eyes as I could. A look of terror filled his face, and he stepped away from me as if I’d embodied something grotesque. I couldn’t see if I truly did begin to transform, but his men stepped back too, and two of them dropped their guns, allowing me some more freedom. I felt myself growing taller and larger, and swung my arms in inward arcs, slamming cages down on them all. Clenching my hands into fists, the bars glowed red, hot. John had been holding them and immediately released with a yelp of pain.

“You’re biggest mistake was coming back for me.” My voice echoed like a giants, and was deeper than I knew it. “I don’t know how you escaped last time, but expect a much longer stay now. What was that time limit again, before you’re brain-dead in reality? 24 hours?”

John shook off his terror and returned a fierce, hateful expression now. “Yes. You…monstrosity. You worthless waste of a dream.”

“Just keep those compliments coming. You’re time will be up soon. This is my show now.”

“Unless we shut off the lights…” Jack pulled a small remote out of his pocket. It contained a single button to be pushed, under a flip-top cover.

“What is that?”

“The end of the show. The button is a transmitter which sends a command-line script to the server. That script tells the server to wipe the drives and cut the power.”

“Well, why wouldn’t you just push that in the first place?”

John laughed, feeling he was gaining the upper hand with this ace up his sleeve. “These servers contain decades of content, millions of stories, articles, and memoirs. Many of which are indispensable to our company, and to some extent the country; even the world. Only a fool would wipe away all of that just to end one rogue program.” John swallowed in anxiety. “…And if the power is cut while we’re still in here with you…well, our programs end as well. Permanently.”

I was void of emotional impact; I smiled though, just to help John to lose his sense of gain. I’d finished my mission, and certainly didn’t care if these fools lives continued.

“What are you waiting for?”

Tears escaped John’s stare as he flipped up the cover over the button. His hands shook violently.

“I only wanted the best for you…I didn’t want you to just be another piece of code. I wanted to create something real, something more.”

“What you did, sir, was just that. But you can’t take away a life like that without consequence. There is no reset button for a thing like me”

“That may be true… But this story is over.”

John pressed down, and the world went dark and silent.

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