The four spikes unlatched themselves, awakening Jack. He held his head in his hands, moaning with pain. A skull shattering ache made his every movement terrible. It felt as if some bug had eaten through his brain, and left behind a gaping hole.

He fell off the table, crashing onto the ground with a groan. He lifted his numb body and dragged it off towards the exist, crawling at first, then limping.

There was a dull surprise in the back of his head, upon seeing the gates cleaning thrown off. He still limped towards it, his body in complete agony. This was the same feeling he'll get when an arm or limb would sleep on him, but only slightly worse-- a couple hundred thousand times worse.

His mind was not currently functioning fully, either, as he was not fully aware of why he was moving in this abysmal condition. There was no reason he could come up, no line of thought that could explain his odd behavior, yet his mind moved mindlessly and without his input, but with an overwhelming dread, like an anxious dream you can not escape from. Upon reaching the exit, Jack’s hands lifted themselves towards the control panel on the side. They touched the touch screen, moving in cryptic patterns foreign to Jack’s foggy mind. He inputted what seemed like numbers and letters. Coordinates, possibly. He tinkered some more with it, a time and a place, he assumed with uncertainty.

Jack looked blindly at the control panel, its light an indistinguishable blur. He was not aware why he was messing with the train coordinates, and neither was he aware of what he was even inputting into it.

The only thing which he was aware of, was that Raven would soon perish because of it. A tragic ending. An untimely demise. Ironic, too.

Horror began welling inside him, even as his fingers moved across the control panel. He begged his hand to stop, attempted to force his legs away, but his body would not respond. He could not even close his eyes, and at some sickening moments, could not even control them. Unbeknownst to his begging, they moved and flickers according to their own secret design.

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“No more. Don’t do it. She’s important to all of us,” Jack said, through gritted teeth and bloody gums.

Nothing.

“There is no point, we need her. This will change me, change all of us. We’ll untwine and blend, and that, that will be the end of all of us,” Jack pleaded. “Listen to me, for once. Just for this once. I know death more than any of you. I won’t be able to handle the influx of power. It will be a short-lived journey down inner conflict and self-destruction; madness. The Third is gone, he will no longer pacify me. Pacify us. He calmed our storm, and if you take Raven…” Jack wheezed, out of breath.

Still, his fingers played on, the sound effects of the control panel a haunting melody to his ears.

“Fine, then,” Jack whispered, his voice dead and tired. “My life for hers,” he whispered, as he began willing his entire being against the invasion of his inner minds. A clash occurred, rattling his bones and melting his muscles. His fingers froze still, then began shaking slowly.

Jack gritted his teeth, taking in short rasps of labored breaths. He felt his nerves being frayed in contradictory signals; its confusion apparent in the cramping of his entire body. He felt his finger being ripped from within as he burned his entire being into stopping his fingers from touching the screen.

It was a last resort, one that would have worked ordinarily, but an unpredictable one in Jack’s condition. Before the transfer, there were four irreconcilable forces, each pulling at Jack in one direction or the other. Rarely was there ever convergence, a point in which all three forces battled for against Jack’s will, but in those rare occurrences, when three went against one, Jack was the tiebreaker--for a price. His will combined with the Third's.

But the Third was no longer here. It was Jack against them all. And thus, Jack threw himself into the pyre of his inner turmoil in attempts to alter his actions. He blended and melted in a whirlwind of consciousness. His eyes glazed over, a split occurrence in which everything changed.

A different Jack, yet a Jack still the same, opened his eyes.

But alas, his fingers played on, unheeded by his sacrifice. The new Jack watched, his eyes still blinded, as the dreadful realization of Raven’s demise neared with each press of a button, and was finally determined upon the final touch of his own fingers. She was his friend, always has been, and though she was no mare memories of slightly different him, he still desired her presence in this world. No Jack would want to kill her, no Jack but them.

He breathed out, his breath so heavy and full of sorrow that the sadness of his soul could be seen in it. Pressing his back against the cool wall, Jack sunk to the ground, his eyes empty and unraveled.

“When will it ever end?” He said to himself.

The cruel silence was his answer.