Jack sat in his recording chair and stared at the bright computer screen amid a darkened room. It displayed his channel's dashboard, referencing recent posted videos, comments, view statistics, and a count of subscribers.
He didn't like the idea going through his head. It made his chest ache.
15 million subscribers – he just reached the milestone. And they would all be gone if he just clicked a few buttons. He figured if he gave away everything he had built up, it would render Anti's quest for power and fame pointless.
He shook his head. It was a terrible idea. Anti would surely be so infuriated that he'd destroy him anyway and start over again – like it was all a mistake. Jack wished he could do the same to that monster. Fire burned in his stomach any time he saw a video on the channel he didn't post. At this point, it was a common occurrence.
Not only were there mysterious "ego" videos and small glitches, but also "normal" play-through videos as well. Videos where nothing was perceivably wrong... except it wasn't him. Anti had mastered the role of the "let's player" without even tipping off the online community. Some of the videos he added in were among the most popular of the last three months.
Inside, Jack burned with anger. Everything he had built was on the brink of being destroyed or taken away from him.
He smacked the mouse, closing the browser window. Crossing his arms, Jack racked his brain for ways to take Anti down.
He was willing to do anything, he thought. He didn't care what it would take.
He stopped.
Jack's expression changed to one of guilt, then understanding. He could see his thoughts align with what Anti had said before... it terrified him. Indeed, they were one and the same. He was capable of the same rage and insanity Anti displayed – the only thing that separated him from it was a decision.
Jack felt... empathy.
And that's when he understood his only chance at surviving. Robin had alluded to it, but he wasn't ready to accept the truth until now.
Jack stood up and faced the wall behind his recording chair. The knife, buried into the foam panel, still stood from the night before. He pulled it out and set it by the keyboard on his desk.
He took a deep breath, unsure if he was ready to face fate. After a moment, he gathered up enough courage to leave the room – knowing what would be waiting for him when he returned.
---------------
Jack walked back to the recording room, sipping on a glass of water. His fist clinched tighter with every step he took. He faced the door and hesitated to enter.
As the door creaked open, an eerie grin welcomed him, as expected. Anti leaned back in his chair with his feet up on the desk – an air of smug confidence etched in his expression.
Jack entered the room without a word.
"You know, I doubt they'll even realize you're gone," Anti suggested to him. "I've studied you for years now. Your mannerisms, your jokes... the lilt in your voice. I can predict what you would say or do in every situation."
"Oh really? For years?" Jack replied unimpressed.
"Time is broken, Jack. I've been planning this moment for far too long. In fact, at this point, I imagine I'll be an even better JackSepticEye. The fans already love me, the egos, and my rendition of you."
"Well it makes sense. You were only learning from two of us."
Anti leaned his head back on the chair, peering down his nose at Jack. "I see Robin finally folded," he said.
"He filled in some gaps, but I imagine there's still more to be told," Jack replied.
"He told you about Schneeplestein, I assume. I have to say, that one was quite clever. He knew something beyond the known realm was toying with his mind. He couldn't quite finish researching it before I had other matters for him to address."
"And the other JackSepticEye?"
"His body was weak. He didn't have the same wit and determination you have."
"I think that's the first time you've complemented me."
"And also the last," Anti squinted at his rival. "The other one was an easy target – never had a clue until it was all over."
"That's why he made a deal with you."
"Robin really did tell you everything."
"Not quite, finish the story," Jack guided him back to the subject at-hand.
"He couldn't quite handle the thought of losing everything – the views, the fans, and success," Anti continued. "After pleading over and over again, like a coward, I let him remain in control of his body and continue recording videos... under one condition."
Jack's eyes widened with discovery, "Jameson... you cut his voice box out."
"After I was done recording my little 'ego' game and practicing my new role, I couldn't risk him acting up. If he wanted to be a part of my show, he needed to be a puppet. My puppet – straight out of 1920s silent film."
Jack glared at him in contempt.
Anti leaned forward, his sharp eyes fixed on his counterpart, "Everything I set out to do – everything I planned has fallen perfectly into place. The other realities have been destroyed. I have a kill switch, a puppet... I found my medium to make this game of mine come to life. And now all that's left is you standing in the way of my reward."
"What is that reward exactly?" Jack questioned. "Fame? Attention?"
The turbulent rival rolled his eyes. "Uggh, we keep going around and around on this. Stupid f̵u̵c̴k̶in̸g̵ ̵c̴ir̶c̷l̶e̶s̷!" he shrieked. "Have you stopped paying attention? I'm gaining back everything I lost – everything I ̷c̴o̴ul̴d̶ h̴a̴v̸e̷ b̴e̶e̸n̷!
"And you think that's going to solve all your problems?"
"Let's find out then," Anti stood up and grabbed the knife by the keyboard. "You left a little gift for me, I see. Anxious to get this over with as well?"
"Perhaps."
"You seem quite calm for someone who has his life in the balance," he prodded, approaching Jack.
"I'm not going to fight you."
"Then what exactly are you going to do? Give up like the others?"
"No..." Jack replied, before refocusing on Anti's hand. "Wait – how can you hold that knife?"
Anti's distorted laugh reverberated around the room. "You don't even understand," he shook his head with a grin. "Half the battle is already won!"
"What do you mean?"
"I̶'v̴e ̷b̶e̶e̴n̵ ̶in̴ ̴c̵o̴nt̵ro̸l t̵h̴i̶s̵ ̸e̴n̵t̷ir̵e t̴i̵m̴e̵!"
Jack's vision blurred with glitch-like distortions appearing in his peripheral sight. All went black for a moment. His vision blinked until it revealed a new perspective – Anti's perspective. He was standing where the spirit was before, now alone in the room, grasping the sharp blade.
His body burned from the inside, making him collapse to the floor. An aura stirred inside of him like a parasite, clashing against his own will. The knife quivered in his hand as he fought the direction it swayed. Jack persisted – Anti grew frustrated.
"Y̷o̴u̵'̵r̶e̵ w̵e̸a̴k̷...̵ ̶J̵u̷s̴t̵ ̵g̸i̴v̴e̴ u̴p̵.̴"
After a minute of struggling, Jack's vision began to fade out again.
If Anti couldn't defeat him on the outside, then he figured victory would be found in an internal dimension. A place where the battlefield was truly even.
============
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this section, please hit the star button and feel free to leave a comment or suggestion before reading the next installment.
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The Threads That Bind Us: An AntiSepticEye Origin Story
Fanfiction*COMPLETED* Jack recognized him immediately, "Son of a bitch..." his perturbed voice echoed through the large room. The man remained silent, never breaking his focused gaze. "Now I have to deal with you? 'Jameson', right?" Jack continued, approachin...
