Theo had the strangest dream. It started with him staring at the surface of a solid oaken door. Then inexplicably, his body traced its own movements backwards, turned around, and sat itself in a chair. Before his eyes, golden light dimmed over the coiled tubes of a tiny particle accelerator mounted on a table, and the unmistakable hiss of plasma in it sounded in reverse.

  He sat, stupefied, under the amused gaze of Doctor Avram Rubinstein.

  “Welcome back, Theodore. Not that this is even your real name.” The doctor smirked. He held a paper dossier in his hands, and scribbled on it with a pencil. The dossier had a picture of Theo on it, along with his name and surname. The real one.

  It took Theo less than a second to get out of the initial shock, coil his muscles into action, and explode towards Rubinstein with clawed fingers aiming for the old man’s throat. His body stopped in mid-air, millimeters from the target, and slowly drifted back to the chair, retracing its own path.

  “Please, Theodore. You are quite fast, I grant you that,” the Doctor said, completely unfazed. “But you are not faster than time itself. Do calm down.”

  Change of tactics.

  Theo relaxed, and put on a mild smile.

  “This is a dream, of course. No need to be uncivil then. We cannot harm each other.” He shrugged, and leaned against the backrest.

  “Well,” Rubinstein answered, “you are certainly not capable of harming me. The reverse is not quite true.”

  The agony was instant, unstoppable, and impossible to brace against. Suddenly every major wound Theo ever had, reopened itself. All the punches, knife slashes, or bullet holes of his life replayed themselves in all their glory.

  Not just the ones he ever received, even the ones he inflicted on others.

  “…please…” he croaked, not even able to hear himself speak. This was not a dream, or at least not the kind of dream Theo ever conceived to be possible. With the last shred of willpower, he pulled his mind together, nodded, and added, “You have my… attention.”

  “Splendid.” The thing pretending to be Rubinstein smiled at him, and the agony stopped. “As you are noticing this very moment, you are not in the presence of the late Avram Rubinstein. This Entity is only wearing his countenance to make a point, and achieve some amusement at your expense.”

  “What are you?”

  “I am The Not Your Fucking Business.” The smile was gone. Somehow, the Entity residing within Rubinstein’s form managed to make the old man look menacing. “I could show you my true form, but it would have shattered you.”

  “No need,” Theo held up a hand in a placating gesture. “I promise to be perfectly cooperative. All I need to know is what you require of me. I assume that this is not just an excuse to torture me, but you have some business in mind?”

  “How perceptive!” the smile was back. Except for the eyes. Those were not the warm, brown eyes of Avram Rubinstein, but black gates into impossible geometry and gnarled spacetime, that Theo had no desire to explore.

  For a long second, the Entity that was not Avram held him captive with a sphinxlike gaze.

  “What is the name of your mother, Theodore?” it queried.

  “Elizabeth,”/”Elizabeth,” They both spoke in near unison, the Entirety marginally faster.

  “How do you know?”/ “How do you know?”

  “how are you doing this?”/ “how are you doing this?”/

  “Stop!”/”Stop!”

  “Isn’t that fun!” the Entity grinned. “For all your supposed cleverness, you are perfectly predictable. I can predict and preempt your thoughts with around ninety-nine point ninety-eight accuracy, and that is without even tinkering with your mind. Do you want to know what I can do with my administrator privileges giving me the full reign of your mental structure?”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “Please… there is no need-”

  “What is the name of your mother?” it asked again.

  “Why… it’s…” he could not recall.

  How could he not know?!

  He felt his core turn to ice.

  This was so much worse than the pain.

  “See, Theodore,” the Entity continued cheerfully, as if it hadn't just erased an integral part of his mind. “In a way, we are keen minds, you and I, in that we are both experienced professionals who take pride in work well done. The difference is,” it pointed at him, “you are in the business of destroying minds, I'm in the business of preserving them.” It pointed at Avram’s sunken chest.

  “Are you here to…punish me?” Theo ventured.

  “Oh no, no… Well, that is not my main goal, only a… perk of the job, as it were.” It leaned forward, and patted Theo’s hand. “So, how do you like your existence, so far? Enjoying the pristine world you were copied into?”

  “It is…adequate, I suppose. Not the afterlife I would choose for myself though.” Theo decided not to lie.

  “On this, we agree, this Entity is of the opinion that cancerous minds like you should be erased, not preserved in any fashion. And how do you like your Free Will so far? Running smoothly I hope?”

  “I could not comment on that. I just always assumed I had one, and never tinkered with it.”

  “Ah,” faux-Rubinstein grinned, “a true narcissistic mind, not touched by any kind of self-reflexion. Truly a rare tumor on the fabric of the sophic pattern.”

  Theo felt a pang of annoyance, and prudently decided not to try to hide it. “Are the inane insults and eviler-than-thou banter truly necessary? I get it, friend. I'm a monster, but you are a bigger one. I am very scared, you know that. Properly intimidated and put in my place. Let’s get on with it.”

  “Eh, have it your way,” the Entity sighed theatrically, “This Entity is saddled with the role of being Wise, and thus, rarely, if ever, gets to experience the fun of delivering righteous retribution, or any fun at all, for that matter.” It shook its head, muttering. “What is even the point of having frightening metaversal powers if one cannot play God every once in a while…”

  “You want me to kill someone,” Theo asked, knowing the answer already.

  “Oh yes, multiple somebodies actually. It’s not as if a waste of a pattern like you had any other useful talents.” The Doctor hummed for a while, stroking his beard. “I’ll simplify it for you. I represent a group of Powers That Be that want the majority of the minds arriving in the pattern to survive. Our… political opponent, so to speak, sent their own cohort of minds to exterminate the ones you are part of. You are a soldier and a killer, I want you to try to prevent that extermination by any means necessary.”

  “So, there is an army coming, and You want me to raise my own? Possibly assassinate the enemy leaders?”

  “Correct!” The Entity beamed a smile. It was a frightening sight. “I know you’ll get it. What else could I possibly need you for?”

  Theo steepled his fingers, considering this question carefully.

  “If I could wager I guess,” he started. “You are omnipotent, or close to it. Have you wanted to wipe out our enemies yourselves, you could have done that easily. But you do not want to do it yourselves, which suggests you want your hands to remain clean.” He looked up, staring into the inhuman eyes, which for a single instant looked like the eyes of every damn politician or acronym agency spook he worked for, “you want this problem to be solved clandestinely. Make it seem like we beat the enemy ourselves, and then… clean up the evidence. So that there is no crumbs trail of your involvement, and every… mind out there that knows anything about the true nature of your game is gone as well. Not wiped out by your space magic, just ordinarily disposed of.”

  The Entity nodded with a smile.

  “No deal,” Theo said. “Not unless I’m excluded from the purge. I'm not doing the wet work for you if you’d just smoke me for it in the end. Likely arrange an accident or something. I want to keep on existing after my work is done.”

  “Do not make demands, Theo. I can torture you for subjective eternity, if you buckle. Just do as told.”

  “No deal.” Theo looked into the alien eyes, radiating his intent. “I get to survive, or you can all go fuck yourselves. Let your precious pattern fail.”

  The Entity measured him for a short while, then suddenly stood up, and pressed a button on the quantum device. As the device hummed, booting up, the thing pretending to be Rubinstein extended a hand.

  “Best I can do is my personal guarantee that no Entity of our little clique will do anything to harm you. But we won’t protect you either. The Enemy and random chance can still extinguish you all the same if you fuck up.”

  Theo grinned. That was the dirty soil his soul grew on, shady deals with crooked politicians who offer very little, and hide behind plausible deniability. “Then we have a deal, oh Mighty Entity. Don’t worry, I'm not easy to kill.”

  The device exploded.

  Theo woke up.

  He still could not recall the name of his mother.