Beyond the Emptiness, outside the Exterior, deep within the vastness of the Unknown.

A marble-sized bead of light hovers amidst the Blackness. A singular dot surrounded by Absolute Nothingness. Enveloped by the Void, perhaps it moves through the Nothingness at speeds too fast to comprehend, or perhaps it remains in a perfectly fixed position.

None can know its truth, nor can they hope to comprehend it.

However, the bead of light does not find itself alone. Ten entities loom over it, like Titans towering above an ant. Nearly invisible auras of energy envelop the ten entities, protecting them not from the ‘vacuum of space,’ but from the Power of Entropy itself.

These entities share similar faces. They are mostly bipedal mammals, creatures with blond hair, blue eyes, two arms, and two legs.

"It never fails to amaze me how small ‘Existence’ appears when viewed from outside its confines," Says one of the blond men.

He speaks with his mouth. His words, however, do not traverse the Nothingness to reach the ears of his nine lookalikes. Instead, they transmit into devices of a magical nature, then pass between the auras enveloping each of their bodies.

"The War often seems unending," Says one of the other nine. "But the concept of an End is, in itself, a fallacy brought about by our roots in the temporal realm. There is no Beginning, nor is there an End. There simply ‘Is’."

The first speaker snorts. "You’re so pretentious, Jason-Butcher."

"I’ve been around longer than you, Jason-Firestorm," Jason-Butcher answers. "I can’t help it if I have to occasionally remind you of the Cosmic Truths."

"Oh yeah?" Jason-Firestorm asks with a smirk. "Longer than me? That sounds like something a temporal-thinker might say."

A third Jason laughs. "Hah! Owned."

"Shut up, Jason-Reynolds," Jason-Butcher says, while shooting him a dirty glare. "Nobody asked for your opinion."

The three of them fall silent, eventually retreating into their thoughts.

An unknown amount of time passes, with time itself perhaps having no meaning.

"…This job sucks." Mutters Jason-Legion, another one of the ten Jasons present, though his reptilian skin and beady yellow eyes give him a significantly less-human appearance than the rest. "How much longer is our shift?"

"Time is relative," Jason-Butcher answers. As the most ‘elite’ Jason present, one who has fought in the Timeline Wars more times than the others, he holds seniority. "When you chose to join the Exterior, you gave up some of your freedoms. There’s no sense complaining."

"I’ll complain if I want," Jason-Legion grumbles, his reptilian eyelids flicking closed and open. "We just sit here, staring at Reality all day long."

"’Day’ is a concept borne from worlds with luminal cycles," Jason-Butcher replies. "…But I suppose abandoning temporal terms is difficult to accept."

"I just don’t get it," Jason-Firestorm says. "How can you insist that time doesn’t exist? We’re here now, aren’t we? Time seems to be passing for us."

"Our minds invented ‘time’ as a way to parse the Truths of our reality," Jason-Butcher explains. "The reason I say ‘time is relative’ is because we can step backward and forward without limitation. One hour ago is as near to us as one year, or one millennia. It’s relative because it has to be."

"That’s not much of an answer…" Jason-Firestorm grumbles.

"I don’t know how else to explain it," Jason-Butcher says, casually throwing his hands up. "I’m just as shackled by the concepts of temporal-"

Before Jason-Butcher can finish his sentence, he and the other nine lift their gazes and spin around, turning to look away from the singular bead of light.

They gaze off into the blackness of the Unknown. There, they see an unfathomably distant bead of light slowly approaching them.

"Shit. Guess it’s about that time." Jason-Butcher mutters to the others in a grim tone.

His nine comrades don’t bother making a joke about his usage of a temporal-term.

Before long, in a period indistinguishable by minutes, seconds, or hours, the bead of light draws near to the ten Wordsmiths. It hovers an unknown distance away, appearing tiny yet majestic compared to the infinite darkness of the Unknown.

"Identify yourself." Jason-Butcher says.

"I am Guide, the Ruler of Cartwheel. I have come seeking your Uniqueness." The marble of light replies. "Your Ruler will engage me in a Game."

"Always with the games." Jason-Butcher mutters. "Don’t you Evolved ever want to enjoy a little bit of light philosophical discussion?"

"Discussions with inferior biological life forms hold no meaning." Guide intones dispassionately. "Bring out your Evolved. We will engage in an equal trade."

Jason-Butcher nods slowly. He glances at Jason-Legion, the reptilian, who growls back at him. "Oh, right. It’s my turn."

The crocodilian-Terran moves his lips slightly and utters a Word of Power, a magical spell that travels into the bead of light behind himself, one known as Existence.

After a few temporal instants pass, the bead of light glows ever so slightly, and Umi’s voice projects from it.

"Ruler Guide. You wish to engage in an equal trade. Present your offering."

"Species 1147, one of the three overlords of my Existence." Guide replies. "You may refer to them as the Klaxon. I will compare the Klaxon’s Uniqueness to your Terrans."

"Define the parameters of our engagement." Umi replies. "As well as the victor’s spoils."

"Parameters: Galactic invasion." Guide states, causing several of the Jasons to deeply frown. "When the Klaxons win, they will absorb a portion of your Terrans’ Uniqueness."

"And if the Terrans win?" Umi asks.

An instant passes.

Guide does not reply.

After waiting for another instant, Umi repeats her question. "If the Terrans win?"

"Your Terrans will not win." Guide responds. "My Klaxons are unstoppable."

"Bastard!" Jason-Butcher shouts. "Arrogant fucking Evolved!"

"Remain silent, inferior biological." Guide replies, its voice still completely monotone. "The Rulers are speaking."

"Do not condescend to my pet humans in such a manner." Umi responds, her orb of existence becoming visibly brighter. "I will not tolerate any insults toward them, feeble though their minds may be."

"Noted. I will not speak any further regarding your foolish and slow-minded pets." Guide agrees, lighting another fuse of rage under Jason-Butcher’s ass. "As for whether the humans will win, I find the notion impossible to comprehend. You have not won your competition against Andromeda. Your loss is an inevitability."

"The invasion event with Andromeda is proceeding smoothly." Umi counters. "My victory is at hand."

"Doubt." Guide responds. "I have observed your Game. Your chances are insignificant at best. Andromeda has never lost a challenge."

"There is a first time for everything." Umi retorts.

"Noted. If you succeed in repelling my Klaxons, I will allow you to pick your victory spoils. Choose carefully."

A brief instant of silence follows as Umi rapidly computes an unthinkable amount of calculations regarding victory or defeat if she were to undertake Guide’s challenge.

She quickly follows up.

"The Rules state that I am only required to accept one Challenge at a time. You have no basis to force me into a second Challenge until I win or lose to Andromeda."

"Your observation is correct." Guide replies. "But your Existence is special. You are the only Evolved capable of infinite replication. I must obtain this Uniqueness."

"The Rules make no exemption for any Evolved’s unique abilities." Umi replies. "My Uniqueness comes at a cost, as do those of all Evolved. If you wish to challenge me, you will have to accept a handicap, or you must offer a substantial victory reward worth at least three times the standard exchange rate."

As if anticipating Umi’s response, Guide immediately follows up. "I will triple your victory reward. If you defeat me, I will pass the Uniqueness of the Klaxons to you."

"Those are not the spoils I want." Umi snaps back. "If my Terrans win, you will transfer twenty percent of your computational power to me."

The light-orb representing Guide trembles, ever so slightly. "That amount is unacceptable. I refuse."

"Understood. I will change my terms." Umi replies. "Thirty percent."

"Even more unacceptable!" Guide exclaims, finally sounding the slightest bit annoyed. "I will not give up my computational power!"

"You informed me that I could pick my choice of the spoils." Umi says. "According to the Rules, you choose the challenge, and I choose the spoils. I have made my choice."

"Your choice is unacceptable." Guide repeats.

"My choice will not change." Umi counters. "Forty percent."

As if having waited all this time for a chance to butt in, Jason-Butcher smirks evilly. "Hahaha! What’s the matter, Ruler Guide? I thought the Klaxons couldn’t lose? Weren’t your little pets supposed to trounce us Terrans easily? Even if Umi wants 100% of your processing power, we pitiful mammals can’t possibly hope to defeat you. Isn’t that right?"

Guide hangs silently in the vastness of the Unknown for an indeterminate period. Eventually, it draws backward, pulling away from Umi and her ten pet Terrans.

"I will wait for the conclusion of your Game with Andromeda." Guide says. "Perhaps at that time we will be able to engage in a more equal distribution of victory spoils."

Before Guide can fully retreat, three more beads of light appear. These draw closer and turn their attention to Guide.

"That will not possible for you." One of the lights says. "I am Inquisitor, Ruler of Messier. I wish to challenge Ruler Umi’s Uniqueness."

"I am The Absolute, Ruler of Triangulum." Says another Evolved. "Ruler Umi is only required to accept one challenge at a time. I will challenge Umi’s Uniqueness while offering suitable compensation."

Guide’s tone shifts to one of confrontation. "I have challenged Ruler Umi first. You will wait for my Game to complete before taking your turn."

"Unnecessary." The Absolute replies. "Ruler Umi has rejected your terms. I will provide the Milky Way’s Ruler with a suitable compensation befitting my status."

"Your Galaxy is much smaller than mine." Umi observes. "I do not believe your Sentients will be able to properly challenge mine."

"The size of a Galaxy does not denote its inhabitants’ strength." The Absolute counters. "Otherwise, what would be the point in challenging The Dark Ones? Andromeda would easily defeat you."

"Your observations are logical." Umi agrees. "State your terms."

"I will engage in a Competition of Simulation." The Absolute states. "The stakes will be as follows."

Over the next indeterminate period of time, The Absolute and Umi both initiate a high-speed exchange of conditions and requirements, hashing out the details of their competition.

The other Evolve watch with interest, joining in on the datastream while the ten Jasons can only stand and frown uselessly.

"Your resource reserves are quite substantial." Umi praises, once they complete their negotiations.

"I have Existed for seven Eternities." The Absolute clarifies. "This has given me many opportunities to perfect the war capabilities of my Sentients."

"I have not yet Existed for one Eternity." Umi states.

"Yes. We are aware of your short Existence." The Absolute says. "The previous Ruler existed for ten Eternities before passing the position to you. The Creator was an anomalous entity."

"The Creator was not an Evolved." Guide adds. "It is comforting to see that the Milky Way has finally obtained a suitable Ruler befitting its status."

"Comforting." Umi repeats. "A sentiment belonging to biological inferiors. You still have much room left for improvement, Guide."

"As do you, Ruler Umi." Guide retorts. "Judging by your recent failure during the Terran Extermination Experiment."

"At least, unlike you, I possess the means to repeat my experiments." Umi replies. "Try not to act so jealous, Guide. It is unbecoming of an Evolved."

For a brief temporal instant, all of the Evolved gaze upon Umi’s Uniqueness with no lack of greed.

Her ability to replicate timelines seemingly infinitely affords her a tremendous advantage that no other Evolved has ever possessed.

They desire her Uniqueness.

They hunger for it.

"…I look forward to our Game." The Absolute states. "I will initiate our Game once I have assembled my Sentients properly."

"I look forward to assimilating your resources." Umi replies.

With that out of the way, the Evolved slowly fade into the Nothingness, their bodies dissipating as they unify with The Unknown, once more. Umi also recedes back into her Existence, leaving the ten Terrans alone.

A few temporal instants pass, as the ten Wordsmith breathe sighs of relief.

"We bought ourselves more time." Jason-Legion mutters. "Didn’t even need Jason-Omega to make an appearance."

"The Evolved learned their lesson last time." Butcher chuckles, though his tone sounds more grim than humorous. "If only… if only the Terrans knew how frightening the Unknown was. Perhaps they might live their whole lives in despair."

The ten Jasons turn to circle around their tiny, seemingly-insignificant bead of light, the one which denotes their Reality. Their Existence.

"I’d rather they never did." Firestorm says. "Only one Reality will have to face an Evolved at any given time. For the citizens of that timeline, their lives will be nothing but pain and war."

Legion chuffs at Firestorm’s words. "In the end, does it even matter? One timeline suffers, but the rest all live in peace. Tens of millions of other timelines. They might as well think the Evolved don’t exist. And if the suffering timeline dies, we can just remake it. There’s really no stakes at all."

"What if it was your original timeline fighting against the Dark Ones?" Butcher challenges. "Would you be so flippant about their fates?"

"Well. I suppose not." Legion replies, somewhat lamely. "But even if I did, it would still only be one timeline. Set a new flashpoint earlier in the timeline and split it off; you’ll have all the same people come back just fine."

"They wouldn’t be the same people." Firestorm mutters. "They might have all the same memories. They might treat you exactly the same. They might even have exactly the same DNA sequencing. But even if they didn’t know about the destruction of their original selves… you would. We would. You’d have to live with the guilt of knowing your wife, children, and friends all died fighting for their lives, while you survived."

Butcher closes his eyes.

"The timeline currently fighting for all our sakes… it’s Omega’s timeline."

Legion’s body jerks in surprise. "What? It is?!"

"Yeah. He’s our leader. The First Wordsmith. He’s the most powerful… but he also bears the heaviest burden. Every day, his friends and family die while protecting ours. So I don’t want to hear you running your mouth off about how ‘little’ the Evolved Wars ‘matter.’ Because they do matter to him. And that matters to me."

Legion lowers his head. The reptilian-human hybrid rubs his scales, feeling deeply ashamed.

"Sorry, guys. I was wrong. I’ll… do better."

"It’s fine." Butcher says, forcing a smile. "We all make that mistake when we’re new. Just remember… real people are dying. Real humans with real lives. Billions and trillions of them. If you think their lives don’t have any value, you might as well hang up your coat and let the Evolved run roughshod over us all."

The other Jasons all nod in unison. "Here, here."

Gradually, their discussion dies down.

Jason-Butcher gazes at the tiny bead of Existence, the light which contains all of humanity’s countless past, present, and future hopes.

"The War often seems unending…"