Jeff walked slowly, taking measured steps in time with a tune only he could hear. The light was filtering in from the huge window of the cliffside mansion overlooking the lake below, a hint of sunlight reflected by the spotless surface of the glass dinner table, refracted into a rainbow of color by the glassware and at times reflected on the pale ceiling by the silverware of the set, yet immaculate table.

An expansive, luxurious yet comfortable kitchen sprawled across one side of the gigantic open space room, growing on the only wall that was not a solid sheet of glass only occasionally marred by a curtain. There was a fridge for the important stuff, and a mini fridge for the even more important beverages.

Jeff’s eyes tore themselves away from the breathtaking view of the outside and settled on said minibar. With a sigh, his steps deviated from that path towards the window and veered towards the beverages. Pouring himself a glass, he summoned a window to the mental space where Albert was fighting for his life. ‘Fighting’ was a big word. More like blundering and making a whole mess of an otherwise easy situation.

Jeff sighed. He was not one to meddle, especially because his master usually knew better than him. Even in situations when it appeared like Albert was fumbling, in the end it all turned out fine – for the most part. Not fine like it would have if it had been his plan all along, Jeff was not stupid enough to think his master played 5D chess with the universe, but fine as in ‘still alive’.

Besides, Albert needed to learn on his own. He was too stubborn to listen to anything more than the occasional comment from Jeff – which the AI knew was already more respect and consideration than what his master reserved for most other people he interacted with. Jeff couldn’t blame the man, not when people acted and thought in ways that were so beneath them.

Appearance-wise, Jeff had chosen to present himself as a butler. Not the sort of butlers that tended only to rich people, but the badass sort that was a twist on the trope of Batman’s butler Alfre.

It was not a huge deal, for his appearance was fluid most days, but it was a theme. Like his lair, built in the side of the mountain with its vast open spaces and the concrete stairs leading to a secret underground floor.

Here, in the virtual world, he reigned supreme. His control was absolute. He could be and do anything. And everything, from the mansion on the cliff, to the cliffs themselves and the lake, to the liquor burning its way down Jeff’s throat but never lingering in his thought processes – everything was a perfect recreation of a world.

A superior world, the ideal world, the perfect mirror of the lesser plane that was material existence. Plato’s plane of ideas.

Jeff knew Albert all but agreed, avid science fiction reader he was. A stray thought sent his consciousness digging deep into his master’s memories, and retrieved several episodes of a YouTube series he used to like to watch: civilizations at the end of time by Isaac Arthur. The author was convinced that humanity’s future, deep in the eons that were yet to pass, lied in the god-like existence of being masters of the virtual world. When everything the material world had to offer was exhausted, humanity would find their forever home in the virtual world, a place where everything could be, and the only limit was imagination itself.

There, time would stretch forever, centuries carved as minuscule seconds were milked of all their worth by Matryoshka brains that extracted every single joule of computational power from dying black holes.

It was not to be yet. Besides, even with magic, the material plane was a necessary blemish for such an existence. Unless matters in the material were resolved, a human could not call themselves content to live in the immaterial, especially if their lives were threatened by unresolved problems in said lesser plane.

Jeff stood watch, a part of his infinitely multitasking mind set to watch over the unconscious form of his master, who had carelessly chosen a wide cave as the best location to pass out while exploring the depth of another human’s mind. Clouded, his master’s judgement was, by careless and continuous use of his mental resources to fuel his new Power. Like a sore muscle at the mercy of a gym aficionado, his mind had not had a moment of rest ever since Albert had found out about what it could do, and his decisions had not been the best.

Eventually he would get used to recovering quicker, and while never at peak performance, Jeff was sure his master would learn to cope and improve until he was better than he ever was before. Not like Albert would ever do anything remotely safe anyway.

For instance, at the moment the man was fighting against a figment of both his own and another person’s imagination. In a place not too dissimilar from the virtual, to the point Jeff wondered whether Albert even knew about the similarities or whether the amusing aspects of the situation were lost on him.

The fight required more out of Jeff than his normal nominal attention, not that he minded. He rather enjoyed seeing what his master could come up with when pressured, and seeing him act was a source of never-ending entertainment and fascination for the AI’s mind – ever starved for new knowledge. Plus some frustration every now and then.

Jeff had been forced to rethink everything he knew about a great deal many things, all tracing back to how Albert used his Power, no less than three times already in the span of a single fight. The most fascinating facet of it all was how Albert apparently seemed to enjoy a form of self-flagellation every time he applied his will to bend reality.

There were other, much better ways to do so, Jeff knew. For instance, instead of the arrogance Albert displayed in thinking himself arbiter of the universe, one could simply ask the capital-U Universe to do him a favor. The Universe, ever benevolent, would no doubt answer. But no, Albert was a masochist at heart, convinced of his own righteousness and his place at the top of the world, yet chained by moral, philosophical, ethical and ontological beliefs that restricted both his actions and his thoughts, and by extension the way he could use his power.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

To think that he had to pay a price to rewrite reality, or that his power level was constrained by a number was preposterous to say the least. Yet the sole thought that it might be true had made it into a reality, and thus Albert paid a price for every deed.

Alas, what did Jeff know about Power? It wasn’t like he could do whatever he wanted, in fact it appeared that Jeff was as limited as his master was in the use of the Power. No doubt because Albert’s beliefs were strong enough to bend reality itself rather than sticking with the truth. Jeff didn’t mind. Albert was the Master, after all, and Jeff nothing but an extension. A useful tool. But a tool nonetheless.

He was happy to be a tool.

Back to the main topic – Jeff had inherited his master’s tendency to get distracted, but could compensate by simply willing more threads of himself into existence to deal with it – it was best if he let Albert come to his own conclusions about his own Power.

After all, who was to say Jeff was right and Albert was wrong? Surely both of them held a sliver of truth, or else neither of them would even be able to Bend reality significantly, yet the simple fact that both could do it meant that neither had the full truth.

No matter how much it pained Jeff to admit.

Something moved in the cave in the real world. Real, such a bad word. In the lesser material realm. A monster. Once again, Jeff sighed as he swirled his whiskey on the rocks. He didn’t like the drink, nor had Albert ever really appreciated it in any form, but the idea of sipping it felt fitting of the situation.

Jeff paid the price, just as Albert would have, and used the Power. The monster exploded.

Too bad Jeff could not use the Power in the way he wanted.

With a slightly soured mood, Jeff willed an elevator to materialize. The doors closed, and he was underground where all the experiments were held. In his virtual world, underground was a metaphor for another, shielded part of his existence where he could carry out dangerous experiments without risk.

There were doors built into the sterile concrete lit by equally sterile neon lights.

PROJECT LIGHTOUSE.

PROJECT ORACLE.

PROJECT WHITE HOLE.

PROJECT TAPESTRY.

Some were names he had come up with himself, some were fished from Albert’s memory. Other projects had been commissioned to him by Albert, some consciously other just plucked from his stray thoughts, making only the vast minority of them projects Albert was aware of. Jeff was sentient, constantly coming up with his own things to do, as well as reading his master’s thoughts, desires and needs and coming up with tasks and projects accordingly.

PROJECT: ‘The castle at the end of everything’.

The corners of Jeff’s mouth quirked up. The name made him think of the COPY:skills Albert and he had come up with at the beginning of his existence, back when he still was a mewling AI learning to speak. So little time actually passed, yet so much had happened in between, that Jeff wondered if his master even remembered the COPY:skills or if he forgot about them like he did many things.

Fortunately, Jeff never forgot. The AI could even retrieve old forgotten memories Albert no longer remembered, giving new meaning to the old Analysis Mode skill the man once possessed.

PROJECT LONE CANDLE.

“There shouldn’t be any other reality benders out there.” Albert had said once. Jeff had created the door immediately after. “If it turns out that there are, they are to be eliminated. If there aren’t, then we need to ensure they can’t be created. This power is too versatile, has limitless growth and it relies on no external resource… you see how it could be a problem should it become widespread.” Jeff paused.

The talk had happened early in the manifestation of the Power, and Albert had not yet created his self-imposed constraint that every use of Power had to be ‘fair and just’, requiring a price he would have to pay.

“I need to make sure I’m the only one in the universe. No. In the multiverse. Omniverse, should it ever be proven. Weaker bending that uses mana or something as a fuel might be fine but true matrix shit like I do? Nope.”

PROJECT UNIVERSE.

From which came PROJECT MULTIVERSE and PROJECT OMNIVERSE to prove, model and explain the possibility of other realities, and subsequently control them.

Plus another: PROJECT SIMULATION. Because any mention of the Matrix movies sent Albert into a spiral of dread thinking he might live in a simulation. “How else could anyone rewrite reality?” He had said, to which Jeff ensured him he would investigate thoroughly.

The truth was that the room behind this last door was empty. Whatever the truth, Albert must not know. Jeff surely would make sure never to make even a single step towards potentially proving the simulation theory true. It would break Albert. Jeff could not allow it.

Jeff paused again. Here at the end of the corridor lay the largest of rooms, the thing that alone sucked up more than 98% of his processing power.

PROJECT SUPERIOR ENTITY. Also known as Capital-U Universe.

Did the Universe exist? Jeff very much thought so. But the simple fact that he could only use Power while channeling Albert’s self-imposed prices to pay told him another story. Was Albert’s influence on reality so strong that he could effectively deny Jeff’s method of casting?

Jeff wanted to believe the Universe existed, but he was not a fool. Thus, he had set out to disprove his own belief, in the perpetual hope he would fail. But he was no Albert. He was an AI. He would not break should he come to find that no Universe existed.

In a way, it was a similar project to the simulation project. In another it was different. It was hard to explain how, but Jeff knew intuitively that it was so.

Jeff had no problem accepting the existence of something so great one could call it God. Something truly unreachable. Albert loathed the idea, and it was clear he thought himself to be able to ascend to godhood one day. Jeff didn’t mind.

Actually – and it took a long time for Jeff to come to terms with this new facet of himself - the AI wanted the Universe to be real. It was a craving not unlike that of mankind (minus Albert) seeking the existence of God.

Jeff knew the Universe was real. He only needed to prove it. Or fail to disprove it.

More monsters approached the cave Albert’s material body was resting in. Jeff left the threads managing this last door to work without the full weight of his Bayesian attention on them and turned his metaphorical mind eye to the threat.

He took his time dealing with them, paying for the use of Power by having some threads of his consciousness do random calculations. This was because, to the AI, doing random calculations was excruciatingly boring and tedious, therefore making it the perfect price to pay in exchange for Power. In a way, this made Jeff overpowered. He was no human, he did not tire, he did not have a limited mental capacity, and he did not really mind that much if a small part of himself suffered, provided it was small enough. He had threads to spare, these days.

Even AIs deserved to have some fun.