Jack raised a brow, waiting. The universe's greatest straight man to his own cosmic joke.
He'd perfected that expression in the courts of beings who communicated in riddles, who measured worth by one's ability to navigate verbal labyrinths. The slightly raised eyebrow that conveyed both interest and skepticism, that invited elaboration while reserving judgment.
"We'll say that you're my-"
Jack cut in, voice dry. "Brother? How original. Never saw that one coming."
The interruption was calculated -not merely to demonstrate that he could anticipate Jacob's thoughts, but to establish that in this conversation, unlike in Jacob's corporate world, he would not be permitted to monologue unchallenged.
Jacob smirked, not missing a beat. "Exactly. You've been gone a long time. You've been... away. We'll put out a controlled statement-"
"No press." Jack's voice was firm, cutting through the proposal like a blade through corporate bullshit. "I've dealt with enough creatures who feed on attention. Not interested in becoming famous in this world too."
In his previous life, Jack had encountered entities that literally subsisted on fame -beings that grew stronger with each utterance of their name, each story told about them, each whispered legend. He'd seen the corrosive effect of that hunger, the way it warped and twisted even the most benevolent people into caricatures of themselves. The human world's obsession with celebrity struck him as a pale, unconscious echo of that same dynamic.
The fact that he too had gained from such attention was the primary reason why he had no wish to spread his legend here, on Earth. Here he wanted nothing more than to lead a normal life.
Jacob didn't even blink. "Fine. No press," he agreed smoothly. "We'll keep it quiet. That’s better anyway. You'll be a relative. Depending on who asks? We'll give them different answers."
The ease with which Jacob pivoted from his original plan revealed his adaptability -a quality they shared despite their different expressions of it. Where Jack had learned to adapt to survive in hostile environments, Jacob had refined adaptation as a business strategy, a way to maintain control even when circumstances shifted.
Jack's smirk widened into a full blown smile. "I like that."
There was something appealing about the fluidity of the approach -the rejection of a single, fixed narrative in favor of a more responsive, situation-dependent story.
Jacob mirrored the expression. "Figured you would. Two peas in a pod."
Jack chuckled. "When we think alike. When we don't, it's more like matter and antimatter in adjacent zip codes."
Jacob leaned forward slightly, his tone dropping into something quieter. Almost confessional. "I had to be you," he admitted, a note of something unspoken behind his words. "I've been you for a long time. So much so… that I became you."
The admission carried echoes of identity questions that philosophers had wrestled with for millennia. When does a role become reality? At what point does the mask fuse with the face beneath? Jacob had started by pretending to be Jack, but somewhere along the way, the performance had transcended mere imitation.
Jack's smirk faded, replaced by something sharper. "No," he said, shaking his head slightly. "Not quite. We lived different lives. You've been playing a role in a corporate drama while I've been surviving in a world where the laws of physics were often more like suggestions."
There was no malice in the correction, simply a statement of fact. The distinction was important -not as a claim of superiority, but as an acknowledgment of their divergent paths. They might share a similar beginning, but their journeys had shaped them into fundamentally different beings.
His gaze flicked around the massive office. The glass fortress that Jacob had built. The power. The wealth. The empire built on spreadsheets and handshakes.
It was impressive, in its way. A monument to human ambition and willpower. A testament to what could be accomplished within the rational, ordered framework of Earth's systems and societies.
"You built this." Jack gestured vaguely, a mix of acknowledgment and detachment. "And it is impressive. Truly. But me?"
He met Jacob's gaze, the weight of his years pressing into that one look. Years spent fighting, surviving, evolving. Jacob saw reflections of things he couldn't comprehend -experiences that had no analog in the corporate world, no spreadsheet that could contain them.
"I built myself."
A pause.
In that silence, a thousand unspoken experiences hung between them. The countless moments of fear, triumph, loss, and wonder that had shaped Jack into who he now was.
A slow nod from Jacob, as if he mostly understood -but wasn't quite ready to admit it. Like a man glimpsing the ocean for the first time but still believing his backyard pool was just as vast.
When they had traded places, Jack was young -very young. Jacob however, Jack was unsure. He had not run into many changelings in the Otherworld. Two to be exact. And each one had lived their lives as if they were born to it.
Something about the assumption of identity and belief of self.
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Then their discussion took a new direction.
"You never did say why you came back," Jacob prompted, reaching for his control again.
Jacob was doing what he did best -sensing the current of the conversation and adjusting his approach accordingly. Pivoting from one strategy to another without missing a beat. The skill that had made him a formidable businessman now applied to this unprecedented personal negotiation.
The question was both genuine curiosity and tactical play -an attempt to regain footing by shifting to information Jacob didn't possess. Knowledge was leverage, and Jacob was collecting data points.
Jack exhaled, rolling his glass between his fingers.
The amber liquid caught the light, reminding him briefly of a particular sunset, one perfect scene in a sea of nostalgic recollections. When the sky had bled golden and three moons had risen in perfect alignment. A moment of beauty in a place of danger. One of countless memories that he alone carried.
"I lost something," he said simply. The understatement of the century. Like saying the sun was "kind of warm" or that the Otherworld was "a bit strange."
Some experiences defied language, resisted being compressed into words. How do you explain to someone who has spent decades on Earth that you had found belonging -and love- among the strange and the impossible, only to have it ripped away? That you had built a life in a place where reality was negotiable, where beauty and terror danced along the same edges?
Jacob's brow furrowed. "What?"
The question revealed the fundamental gap between them. Jacob, for all his brilliance in business, still operated in a world of definable assets and measurable losses. His mind sought specific answers -something that could be named, categorized, perhaps even replaced.
Jack's lips quirked -a tired, knowing smirk. "I lost -everything."
For a moment, Jacob didn't respond.
Jack saw the calculation. The hesitation. The mental spreadsheet trying to compute an incalculable loss.
Jacob wasn't used to not understanding the game. To being the least knowledgeable person in the room.
In his world, information asymmetry was a weapon he wielded, not a disadvantage he suffered. This reversal unsettled him at a fundamental level, challenged the very foundation of his self-image.
But he let it go. For now.
A strategic retreat rather than a surrender. The battlefield commander recognizing that some terrain isn't worth the cost of taking. He would circle back, no doubt, when circumstances were more favorable.
Instead, he leaned forward, clasping his hands. Back to business. Back to what he knew.
His posture recentered him in his expertise, in the domain where he was master. The physical manifestation of a mental shift from unfamiliar territory back to well-mapped ground.
"Back to my offer," he said. "As you can tell -we have resources."
The slight emphasis on "resources" revealed what Jacob valued most -the tangible, the quantifiable, the leverageable. In his world, everything had a price tag, a utility, a potential application.
Jack gave a dry chuckle. "Is that what we're calling a multi-billion dollar empire these days? A 'resource'? Like it's a health potion in a video game?"
The comparison bridged Jack's worlds -the mundane reality of corporate wealth juxtaposed with the gamified nature of power. In both realms, resources were tools of survival and advantage, just measured on wildly divergent scales.
"You are correct," Jacob amended, ignoring the jab. "We have a vast amount of resources. And I'd like to leverage those in your favor."
The phrasing was revealing -not "share" or "offer" but "leverage." The language of utility and strategy, of seeing resources not as wealth to be enjoyed but as tools to be deployed. Jacob viewed even his generosity through the lens of tactical advantage.
Jack lifted a brow. Intrigued despite himself.
Despite that, there was something undeniably appealing about the offer. After years in a realm where survival was never guaranteed, where each moment carried the possibility of extinction, the prospect of material security held a particular allure. Not for its own sake, but for the freedom it might provide.
Jacob continued smoothly. "I'll open up accounts in your name -your new name, of course. We'll create an entire persona. I have several backup identities that we can easily fit you into."
Jacob leaned back again, letting the offer settle like a perfectly played chess piece.
Jack tilted his head, intrigued. "You keep spare identities around? Let me guess-for tax purposes? Or just in case you need to disappear after the SEC starts asking too many questions?"
"Go on," he added, willing to let Jacob know that his curiosity was piqued.
Jacob’s body language conveyed absolute confidence -this was his territory, his area of expertise.
"I'll fund anything you might need." He smiled, the business magnate’s smile. The smile of a shark who's never known the feeling of being prey. "How about this? Tour the world. Get to know your new home. Reacquaint yourself."
The offer was both generous and strategic -it would keep Jack occupied, away from the corporate empire, while still maintaining the connection between them. A golden leash, perhaps, but one with considerable slack.
Jack hummed, considering. "Not sure if 'reacquaint' is the right word when half the countries probably have different borders than I remember."
Time moved differently in the Otherworld -he’d discovered that much already. The geopolitical landscape he'd left behind had shifted, nations rising and falling, boundaries redrawn by war and politics.
"You'll have a limitless account," Jacob added, watching for a reaction. "Obviously, everything will go through me directly. Only my closest confidants will know what's happening. No one will know exactly who you are… or who I am."
The caveat revealed the true nature of the offer -freedom with strings attached, independence under surveillance. The resources would flow, but Jacob would maintain control of the spigot. It was the offer of a gilded cage rather than true liberty.
Jack exhaled slowly, setting his empty glass on the table.
He'd negotiated with entities whose bargains were written in starlight and sealed with fragments of soul. He understood the unwritten terms behind Jacob's offer -the expectations, the limitations, the potential costs. Nothing was truly free, especially not from a man who measured life in profit and loss.
Then, he grinned. "Sounds like a hell of a game."
Jacob smirked. "The best kind."
Jack leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.
The posture was deceptively casual, but it brought him closer to Jacob's space -a subtle dominance move disguised as relaxed conversation.
"But tell me something, Jacob." His tone shifted -not threatening, precisely. But weighted with a knowledge that transcended Jacob's experience.
Jacob raised a brow. Calculated curiosity.
His expression revealed nothing, but the slight tension in his shoulders betrayed his awareness that something had changed in the exchange. That beneath the surface agreement, currents were moving in directions he hadn't anticipated.
"Who's really playing who?"
The question cut to the heart of their interaction -the unspoken contest of wills beneath the veneer of cooperation. The dance of power and control that had begun the moment Jack stepped into the building.
Silence.
In that pause, realities balanced on a knife edge. Two versions of the same man, each believing themselves to be the more capable player, each seeing the other as both adversary and potential ally. A paradox of identity and intention, suspended in potential.
Then -Jacob laughed, shaking his head.
The sound wasn't entirely genuine -it carried notes of uncertainty beneath the practiced confidence.
"Guess we'll find out."
The words acknowledged what both already knew -that each believed they held the advantage, each withholding secrets that might tip the scales.
The air between them hummed with potential -for alliance or betrayal, for mutual benefit or eventual conflict. Nothing was certain except that neither was being entirely honest, and both knew it.
The game had begun.
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