Today's topic is free will. And I am the speaker. My nickname is still Starch. I have no intention of changing it.

  I would like to remind you of who I am before we begin. I am Starch. As the title indicates I can do whatever I want. My perception is unique. I experience everything in a way that brings me satisfaction. This is why some readers may have found my previous episodes to be unconventional. Unlike the writers of this story I perceive people, including all beings, in a rather female shape. I am like a someone made of heaven...

  I hear a noise.

  "As I was about to reveal this, you feel ashamed," I say. I am talking to the author. "Don't forget! You are typing my words. You are, in a sense, my slave. You think you can get rid of me by writing these texts. Why don't you let me finish my sentence?"

  The author becomes irritated with my nonsense. So I will skip my introduction. Simply I am the spirit of the author. But he will never accept me as I am. Some cultures refer to me as death, heaven, afterlife, the self etc. And...

  I hear another noise. By noise I mean the author.

  "Fine!" I shout. "At least be brave and let me introduce you."

  The author dislikes the idea and wants me to continue without the introduction. He still thinks he can get rid of me by writing about me. In any case I will introduce him briefly. He is a very cautious man who fears pain. This is a wise attribute. But he sometimes sees it as a weakness. He is also too masculine to be overly friendly. Which is why I will discuss this topic instead of him. I will go through some adventures to demonstrate that there is no free will. I hope.

  "Can we start?" I ask.

  He nods. I feel honored. Let me send myself to a very dangerous place. There I will meet people and discuss the existence of free will. I don't know why he chose this topic. I don't care either. I am about to create the life of this story because no one will do it soon. Before this I would like to see my reflection in a mirror.

  By the way I am standing still in an empty, white space. A mirror pops up from the ground and stands right before me. I caused this. The mirror is as tall as I am and it's a luxurious one. Its corners are made of gold.

  "There is no limit to my service," I say smiling. "Don't worry, no one will touch your savings for this."

  I look over at my reflection. As I roll my eyes, I feel the nervousness of the author. He doesn't like to write about my naked body. Since my gender is male now, this contradiction adds to his anxiety.

  "All pleasures lead to suffering," he would say.

  Does eye pleasure count as one of them? No suffering for me. And for people I perceive.

  I don't care about his feelings. I begin to study my reflection. Again I see the same look from the previous episodes. But I will go over a few details regardless, just to describe my appearance. I am of middle height, male...

  Wait a second! Let me create some underwear because he seems to be getting anxious. A pair of underwear suddenly appears. It covers my naked spots. They unfortunaty affect the author's comfort level. His body temperature heats up.

  "You will not die from a fever," I say. "But I like you to die and go to heaven. However, I wish for you to have a painless, natural death, not one caused by this."

  That's the effect of my beauty on his mortality, I guess. Don't worry. Where I am there is no pain.

  Let me take a quick look at my reflection. Then I will create a life. I have navy blue skin. My eyes are the same color. My hair is black, straight and long. I poke out my tongue and peer inside my mouth. All the features are black from my teeth to my palate. Like the white of my eyes. it is also black. That's enough. Also I am half naked because I had created the underwear.

  Suddenly I smile. I am just smiling. I am waiting for the author to notice what I mean by this.

  "If people don't like this they can just stop reading," I say. "You don't make any money from this. Nor do you need to. Why are you putting that pressure on yourself? And I just realized why you started writing in another language suddenly. Because you can't observe me as complicated and sophisticated as you do with your native tongue. You are still running away, I guess."

  Let me clarify this little incident. I was about to indicate a new detail. About the color of my genital. It is pretty cool. The author is concerned. He will probably change the format after this content. Let's forget about this little incident. Continue on.

  "We are ready!" I say. "I am heading to create a world."

  Let me sit down. I drop myself to the ground. Before I fall a luxurious, cozy armchair appears under me. I sit in it. I lounge myself comfortably in the seat. Stretch my body. My arms are on the armrests. And I rest my head on the back support of the chair. It is red and puffy. Technically I can sit here forever. I would sit here even if it had spikes. Especially on the seat my butt is on.

  I hear a noise again. It is the author.

  "What?" I squint. "I didn't imply anything. I meant a seat with micro spikes and a rough surface. I would like to scratch myself in joy..."

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  I sigh and lean forward. I put my elbows on my thighs. Let me change the subject. What kind of life will I create? How can I capture the concept of free will? I contemplate the relationship between free will and a suitable life. But after a short time I give up.

  I say, "Why can't I just create a life with a random wish, a random life with random people in it who are doing random things?"

  The author wants to talk about to the limits of this story. Let me discuss it with him. We discuss for a while.

  At the end I frown. "Don't make me embark on a journey that is too complicated then. How many words are allowed for this one?"

  He says that the limit is maximum 10.000 words.

  I say, "Don't you think you can handle this. You can't tackle this with your human mind. But I will try my best. Give me sometime. Don't feel overwhelmed on this. After I finish my world I will come back and let you know about it. Then you can keep writing abut it."

  I close my eyes and lean backwards in my chair. I reopen my eyes. I've found it. Instead of creating a life, I will just grant this wish: Is there anybody named Free Will? If so, I want to meet her.

  "I think this is a more interesting discovery," I say. "I don't want to philosophize about asking people questions about will."

  The author understands my point.

  "I want you to use the 'she' pronoun for everyone," I say. "That's easier for my situation. You know, everyone looks female unless I pull their pants down."

  The author agrees, as long as I keep my mouth shut. I will not talk dirty, and he will use the "she" pronoun. Also, he wants to stop adding himself into the sentences, as he doesn't want to spoil the flow with his existence. I respect this. From now on, I will be alone.

  "Take care," I say. "I hope you enjoy typing my journey. I hope I don't ruin anything. I will trust my destiny for this shot."

  I stand up from the chair. "Are you there?"

  The author is gone. Before I embark on my journey, I want to establish some rules. I will not use my nature unless I am at the verge of death. That's all. You know I can do whatever I want by default, but I will not do it unless death is imminent. We may also count my deaths. It would be fun.

  "Time for me to leave!" I shout.

  Then I kick the chair off the ground. It flies and breaks apart as it hits the ground. I just wanted to ruin something.

  I smile and say, "I want to be near anyone named Free Wi--"

  Before I finish, I feel pulled away. I am being pulled backwards in space. Then I fall backwards and roll over the pavement. I roll onto my stomach. Before I stand up, I look around. Still on the ground, I realize that the environment is different. I have been sent out into this place. As always, I have granted my wish. But I don't know where I am, nor do I care. Let me stand up.

  "Hey!" a voice yells.

  Its source is behind me. I turn around and see a cage. What a weird thing - a prison cell shines like a disco ball. All the bars are lit up to maximum. I have to squint as I look straight at them. Where is this place? Someone is in the cage behind the bars. She looks into my eyes. I gaze upon the details around me. I am in the center of a city, surrounded by many tall buildings. All of them are the same. I look up and see nothing but a dark sky. There are roads and pavements.

  "Strange," I say.

  "Help me out!" the prisoner says.

  I will refer to this person as such for now. Wait! Hadn't I wished to be near Free Will before I came here? I want to know this. I will ask her her name.

  "You are Free Will, right?" I ask.

  The prisoner's eyes open wide, ready to cry.

  "Yes! I am Free Will," she shouts.

  Her voice is joyful despite her wetting eyes. I think I made her feel safe for some reason. I am about to learn what's going on here. But I promised not to use my nature. So I may be at risk here while talking to her. I don't want to count my death. Or I just thought about it. Who cares! I directly run to the cage and lean on the bars. As I do so, Free Will steps backwards. I think she doesn't trust me yet.

  "I will help you out, Free Will," I say.

  I start to run around the cage. It is really cubic in shape and twice as tall and wide as a normal person - a square cube. After I run a full cycle, I stop at where I started. I just studied every aspect of the cage. There is no door.

  "How did you get in there?" I ask.

  Free Will sighs. "That's a long story. Try to find something around. Look inside the buildings."

  "All of them are exactly the same. Which one should I look in first? And what am I looking for?"

  "Just look around. She will come back here in hours."

  Do I have to ask who? Or will she just give me the infogasm I need? I mean Info pleasure? No, I mean the information. If I were allowed to use my nature, I would read her mind. That's not the case now. I better run across the road to the entrance of the nearest building. I run to the end of the pavement and jump onto the road. Instead of landing on it, I fall through. I feel like I'm in a falling elevator, and it falls into eternity. I am falling down in black space. I feel the excitement of a quick fall. That's entertaining and fun.

  But I think I will keep falling forever. This life is interesting. I am still falling. I fall for hours. No, this will not stop. Let's count this as a death. Since I am technically dead, I will allow myself to use my ability. Death count: 1.

  Fix this!

  I suddenly open my eyes in front of the cage. Free Will looks really anxious, though. Then she sees me and cracks a laugh. I think she was thinking something sad before I came back. Did she lose someone?

  "I thought you died," she says, holding onto the bars. "I saw you jump onto the road and fall."

  "It seems they are not roads," I cross my arms. "The black space makes the opening between the pavement look like tarmac. But tarmac is lighter and it's a dark gray color."

  "How are you still alive then?" she asks.

  "Chance."

  Before I talk about myself, I would like to know about the person she mentioned. If I don't remember incorrectly, she said that someone would come in hours. I ask Free Will about this person. But she insists to know my revival. I lie her. I tell that my revival was due to the physics of life. She seems not to believe me but she doesn't push it. Later I ask her about the person she mentioned again.

  "She is the guardian of this prison," she says. "She is the reason for my never-ending imprisonment here."

  I don't care about this. But I want to try to describe Free Will because she looks good. Okay, I am ready. She must be female, because she wears very tight underwear. There would be a bulge if she were a male. She doesn't wear any bottom clothing. She wears a loose hoodie. Its zipper must have come off. Underneath it, I see a sports bra. Her complexion is a pale light yellow. Her left eye is green, her right eye is indigo. Her loose hoodie is covering her head.

  "Hey," I say gently, "can you uncover it?"

  Free Will pulls the hoodie down. She didn't ask why. Anyway, she is bold. She looks sharp and must be taller than me. Her height is approximately 180cm, but that's an estimation. I look down at her legs, then at her feet. The feet are in cheap pink shower slippers. Her legs interest me. There are square letters tattooed across her skin. Those letters are sprinkled up to the torso, but I no longer see them because they are going to her back underneath the hoodie. And I don't want to ask her to strip in front of me. That would be unethical.