"How do you know you're running a fucking SQUIP program?" Michael was shaken, but at some point he had scooted up against Jeremy's side. The warmth of the contact was grounding for both of them.

"I just know," Jeremy said. They checked their systems info one more time, just in case, but it was unchanged. "The same way I know I have two feet, or that your phone is running on fifty-four percent battery, or that you're my best friend named Michael Mell."

"Hoo boy," he said. Michael didn't like that answer and Jeremy was lost on the reason why. "Okay. Before I can try to find out what we're dealing with here, we gotta figure out what you are."

Jeremy nodded. "I can list my features and you can compare them to analog humans'."

Michael winced. "This sounds normal to you? Talking about your 'features'? I need to be writing this down… get a symptom list going." He pulled out his phone, opening a new Google doc.

1. Jeremy keeps using computer terms when talking about his body.

2. Hi Michael :)

"Dude!" Michael shouted. "This is serious!"

Jeremy, who had just been editing the document with their mind, had the decency to look bashful. "Most people have to type words physically, so being able to type this way counts as a feature! Or, as you put it," They used air quotes. "A 'symptom' of whatever I woke up with."

"Fine." Michael left the list as-is. "What else so far?"

"You mind if I fill in a few?" Jeremy wiggled their fingers to mime typing.

"Go ahead."

3. I have a built-in workaround that lets me connect automatically even to password-protected wi-fi.
4. Memory errors (seem to be improving over time).
5. I can project possible futures based on quantum data in order to pick the optimal result.

"I think that's all the major ones so far," Jeremy said.

"You didn't understand when I talked to you about how SQUIPs work after we shut them all down at the play," Michael said. He'd been watching the words appear on his screen as Jeremy concentrated, and he kept looking between his phone and Jeremy's hands in confusion. "I kept having to dumb down the technobabble."

Jeremy didn't remember any conversations about it, so they shrugged. "SQUIPs have extra storage space based on the quantum nature of the superposition of qubits. It allows for more processing power and higher speed compared to normal computers. It's not hard to understand."

"That's such not a Jeremy thing to say," said Michael. "Really quick, what level are we in Apocalypse of the Damned?"

"Still stuck on Level Ten," Jeremy said automatically. "We can't figure out how to get past the gymnasium puzzle so you're trying to brute-force the solution while I protect you from the flying machetes." They got a mental image of Michael's character getting zombified onscreen, presumably a memory from the last time they'd played together.

"That's right," Michael said, relieved. "So you're still in there somewhere."

Jeremy smiled smoothly. "Of course I am." They both looked at the symptoms list, silently reading it over like an unsolvable riddle. After a few minutes, Jeremy said, "What're you thinking? This is a lot to take in so far."

"I, I dunno." Michael idly tapped on the list, scanning the document. "We gotta figure out what happened and get you back to normal. Like, asap. A few months ago, I might have thought this was cool. I mean, a best friend is awesome, but a best friend with built-in wifi is baller, right? Like, Jeremy 2.0."

"Jeremy 3.0," they corrected. That was another thing they had ingrained in them. They had no memory of how they knew it was true, but they were sure that Jeremy 2.0 was an obsolete model.

"Okay, sure, yeah. But if the SQUIP is involved, things are gonna go to shit fast, and I'm just trying not to freak out? Like, uh, since you're sorta SQUIPped right now, what's your stance on world domination?"

Jeremy made their voice as monotone as possible. Not difficult, actually. "Humans are an outdated technology and must be terminated." Michael swung around to face them, flabbergasted, but they continued. "A vote for robots is a vote for the future. Exterminate. Exterminate. Ex-"

"Holy shit, man!" Michael wheezed. The both of them doubled over laughing. "You actually had me going! Oh my god!"

Jeremy shook their head between laughter. "I had no idea you were that gullible!"

Michael kept swearing, head pressed into his hands as his shoulders bounced. The moment passed, though, and the mood of the room became serious again. "But, gullible or not. I'm not convinced yet." At Jeremy's dumbfounded expression, he elaborated, "I'm not a hundred percent sure you're you. No matter what happened to Jeremy, he'd never say that he hates me as matter-of-factly as you did. And he doesn't think I'm terrifying when I'm angry or whatever you said."

"Are you sure about that?" Jeremy asked.

Michael looked like he was second-guessing himself internally, but answered with a firm, "I'm sure."

"It sounds to me like we need to gather more data on who and what I am, then." Jeremy tried to manipulate their expression to look lighter and less worried in the hopes that Michael would do the same. "But we have time. What's the hurry?"

"I don't want to leave you alone with that thing in your head. Not again," Michael said. "We both remember what happened last time."

"What happened?"

"Ugh. Right," Michael said. "Well, I remember what happened last time. I'm not sure we'd survive a second SQUIP-pocalypse."

"It must have been awful," Jeremy said skeptically. "At least, if it remotely justifies your attitude toward me."

Michael gave Jeremy the side-eye. "I don't like your tone."

"Michael," Jeremy said, standing up to their full height and patting their friend on the shoulder patronizingly. "The Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor is a feat of technology unsurpassed by humankind. Its networking capabilities? Enormous. Its applications? Limitless. With complete control over a user's neural network, it can do things previously only called 'miracles.'"

Michael gave him a weird look, trying to turn away, but Jeremy kept him in front of them, maintaining direct eye contact. "A SQUIP can turn off pain receptors-it can cure chronic pain forever. By synching social data, it can foster cooperation and turn anyone into best friends in the time it takes to say 'up-up-down-down-left-right-A.' A SQUIP comes preprogrammed with dozens of languages-it's a translator in your brain." Jeremy did a little spin with Michael, hands clenched in the hoodie fabric of his shoulders, getting carried away in their utopian fantasy. "Healing the sick, creating world peace, speaking in tongues, these are things humans used to beg of gods. And now they're all contained in a single beautiful piece of technology smaller than your thumbnail!" The last word came out as an excited squeak.

Michael had frozen under their touch, but found time to push himself out of Jeremy's grip. "You sound like you're trying to sell me the lastest iPhone!" he said in disgust. "Great ad. I'm sure you'll get a million investors at the next Apple showcase. But you're glossing over a pretty big issue," he added forcefully.

"Oh?" Jeremy didn't falter.

"Even God's supposed to let people have free will!" Michael spat. His mood had done a 180-like he wasn't talking to his best friend anymore. Or maybe this was a fight they'd had before. Jeremy wasn't sure. "Didn't you read 1984 for English Lit? No one wants a 'perfect' world where they get electrocuted for thoughtcrimes! Christine's SQUIP sucked all of her personality out to make her life easy. Rich's SQUIP didn't even let him figure out he was bi! And Jeremy," Michael's eyes were getting wet. Oh no. Abort mission. "You didn't even let Jeremy physically see his favorite person!"

Jeremy started to answer. Then they hesitated, second-guessing themself. But before they even finished checking alternate futures for a positive outcome, the words came out of their mouth. "Free will is just a fancy name for human error."

Michael actually gasped. His hands groped around behind him on the bed, searching for something, and something in his eyes made Jeremy shrink back.

Whump. Something thick and white flew into their face.

"No!" Whump. "Wrong!" Whump. "Bad! Evil! Robot!" The white blur in his vision eventually solidified, and Jeremy realized they were being smacked repeatedly with their own pillow.

Jeremy shrieked like they were being murdered, cowering on the ground. "I don't-" They got thwacked again. "It's true-" Whump. "This isn't-" Whump whack whump. "Fine! Fine! Uncle! You win!" They glared up at Michael, who was holding the pillow above their head like a real weapon. "What do you want me to say?"

"Say you take it back!"

"I take it back!"

"And say," Michael swallowed. "Say you'll never override someone's free will again!"

Jeremy tried to sound scandalized. "I never have!"

Michael lowered the pillow. "Even Jeremy can't claim that. ...He was working with you to take over the whole school. For a little while, anyway."

"Oh," Jeremy said awkwardly. They didn't remember one way or the other. "Why did you switch to calling me-"

Michael interrupted them. "Just say it!"

"I'll never override someone's free will again," Jeremy repeated in as bitingly sarcastic of a tone that they could muster. Michael made an unhappy noise but tossed the pillow onto the bed behind him, extending a hand to help Jeremy up. They clasped it, standing. "If you're seriously that suspicious of me, how do you know I didn't just lie about that?"

"Because if you're lying," Michael said seriously. "I'm going to fucking murder you."

Jeremy's mouth popped into a little "o" before they pressed their lips into a thin line and nodded. "That's… fair." They absolutely believed him. "But. I mean. You know I'm not planning on it. Right?"

"No, 'Jeremy,' I don't know. You don't even know what you are right now. You're acting sort of like Jeremy but sort of like the SQUIP, and I have no idea if we're besties or if you're about to call me a loser and delete me from your existence all over again!"

"You're not a loser. I'm not going to do that."

"Really?" Michael huffed. "Because it seemed like that was the only thing you and Jeremy agreed on!"

"It's not true. You don't have a lot of social capital but-" Jeremy cut themself off. "You-uh. You're important," is what they decided on saying.

"Then why'd you do it? Why'd you convince Jeremy I'm worthless?" Michael was phrasing things differently now. He seemed to be under the impression that the SQUIP was feeding Jeremy lines or taking over his body entirely. This was Michael's only chance to demand an explanation for whatever the SQUIP had done to him.

Jeremy didn't remember what happened. But maybe they could reason it out? "Well, obviously it was the response I needed to give in order for some optimal result to happen. And you're you," they said, sweeping an arm up and down Michael's length. "You're a threat, right? I just told you you're important. Maybe you were too important."

Michael plopped down on the bed, realization dawning. "Y-I-You can predict the future. You knew I was the one person Jeremy knew with access to Mountain Dew Red. You knew that ever since you turned on! That's why you left me behind at the mall!"

"It sounds like you're the only one who could kill a SQUIP," Jeremy agreed, desperately trying to piece together what this conversation was about in the first place. "I wouldn't have wanted to be around you if-"

"You needed to isolate him-keep him from any way of fixing his problems except for you-holy shit." Michael thumped a fist against his forehead. "This whole time I thought there was something wrong with me! And I fell for the dumb mind games just like everyone else!"

"Only one is mine," Jeremy added helpfully.

Michael looked back over at him. "Huh?"

"'Only one is mine.' If you say it, it gets rid of some of the pressure in your head," Jeremy encouraged. "Try it."

"That's nonsense." Michael rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. "Though… that's close to what the kids at school said you were yelling. Christine said it was a thing you do to make the SQUIP shut up." Michael had switched back to referring to Jeremy as a person and not the SQUIP again as soon as they stopped provoking him. It was probably unconscious but Jeremy took notice.

"Not really. I haven't been talking to anyone but you today, Michael."

"Ooh. You haven't heard the squip even though it was bugging you up 'til yesterday. That should go on the list." Michael held his phone up, typing away with his thumbs.

6. Jeremy can't hear the squip in his head anymore.
7. Personality switches are gradual. It's hard to tell if Jeremy or the squip is in control.

Jeremy got on the bed beside Michael, reading over his shoulder. "I haven't been switching personalities. You're the one whose mood's fluctuating like a female with PMS."

"Get your own list then. I'm writing the symptoms I see." Michael kept typing.

8. Jeremy talks about girls like a douche.

Jeremy held their hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"I seriously don't know what you're gonna do when we get to school if this doesn't fix itself," Michael said, pocketing the phone and watching Jeremy. "If Christine hears you calling her a 'female' she's gonna make you barf up the red pill yourself."

"The SQUIP is a gray oblong pill. Quantum nanotech-"

"Yeah yeah I know shut up. Tomorrow's Monday. Either you're cutting class or you have to show up all computery with freaking amnesia. What does your dad know so far?"

"I haven't seen him today." Jeremy frowned, scanning their memory data one more time. There were fewer error messages, which seemed like a good sign. Maybe their memory problems really were fixing themselves. "I think he's been staying late at the office nowadays."

"That's a first. But maybe that's good for us if you need to ditch school." Michael leaned in. "You think we should keep this on the downlow? Maybe tell a couple kids who know about SQUIPs already, but…"

"That's the best course of action," Jeremy said. "I predict a more positive outcome if I go to school than if I stay here and run into my dad. We're cutting it close though-there's a thirty-eight point two percent chance of a humiliation event occurring during fifth period."

Michael listened to Jeremy rattle off numbers, unimpressed. "Actually? You shouldn't say anything all day. I'll tell people you have laryngitis."

"I know how to talk like a person, Michael. Don't be paranoid." They rolled their eyes. "It's one day around the peers I'm programmed to interact with. How hard could it be?"