All of them stared at Mr. Michael in stunned silence—Jake included.
Carl and Carly broke the silence first, blurting out in perfect sync: "What in the flipy flop chip world sorcery is this?"
Jake and Jane blinked, doing a slow head turn toward them. "The flipy flipy what?" they also said in unison.
Jane raised an eyebrow. "No, seriously, what did you just say?"
Carl scratched his head. "I don't know. It just came out."
Carly shrugged. "It sounded right in the moment."
"Great minds think alike, don't they" Carl smiled.
"I'd like all of you to calm down," Mr. Michael said, voice deep and measured.
Jake scoffed. "Calm down? Dude, I mean, this is the you I know, yeah. But what the hell was that back there?"
"Remind me not to argue next time you tell me I'm losing it," Jane muttered, palming her face with a sigh.
"Noted," Jake replied, dry as ever.
Mr. Michael adjusted his collar, straightening up. "Relax. This is the world we're in now. Luckily for you, I can control mine."
"Can't say the same for the receptionist downstairs," he added.
"Wait, she's a he also?" Carl asked, confused but weirdly not surprised anymore.
"Anchors are both," Mr. Michael said with a light nod. "Unlike you Duals, who remember both timelines clearly. Not all Anchors retain memory—most aren't even aware of the gender switch they undergo from time to time."
"So… only those who remember can control it," Carly said slowly, trying to piece it together. "And even then, that's like... rare?"
"You're not wrong," Mr. Michael confirmed.
Jake leaned forward. "So, what's the concept behind Duals? Let me guess—we were too different to fuse like the others."
"Right on point."
"But doesn't that make Anchors the biggest anomaly?" she asked, pushing past the confusion. "Do you even have a clue why Anchors exist at all?"
Mr. Michael sighed, voice calm but a little worn. "Nothing solid. But I have a hypothesis."
He crossed his arms, gazing at them. "Anchors are different too—just not enough to stop the merge completely. So instead, the result is... unstable duality in one existence. I think you can understand the reasoning there."
"Makes sense," Carl said, nodding.
"Yeah," Jane muttered. "Unfortunately."
Jake rubbed his eyes. "So how do we fix it? Or get out of this mess?" His voice had dulled, returning to that quiet seriousness of his.
Just then…
A pulse ripped through the room. Everything wobbled unnaturally—the walls, the floor, buildings outside, everything.
A sharp screech followed. They all clutched their ears. Three whole minutes of that unbearable noise, and then a snap silence.
"It's worse than yesterday's," Jake whispered, eyes scanning the room.
"What is that?" Jane asked, turning to Ms. Michelle, who had swapped back from Mr. Michael without any real transition.
"That was fast," Carly muttered.
"It's called the Merge Pulse," Ms. Michelle said, tone almost somber. "Think of it like the world's immune system. It's trying to fix everything. Erase what doesn't belong. Rewrite what it can."
She looked down at her hands. "People with rewritten memories? They don't feel it. No matter the destruction. No matter how many times I switch from Michelle to Michael... they roll with it like that's just how it's always been."
"In short?" she looked up. "The world is trying to erase us."
Jake yawned like he was unimpressed. "Okay."
"It always reverts me to whichever form I was in last," Michelle added, glancing at the clock
Jane sighed. "So, what do we do now?"
"You kids should head home," Michelle said, already slipping on her coat. "They won't come for you in broad daylight. But tonight, you're staying here. I need you back by 4 p.m. sharp. I'm going somewhere, and I'm already late."
"We still have questions," Jane pressed.
"Yeah. A lot," Carly backed, arms crossed.
"You do. I don't. At this point, anything's possible," Jake muttered, "I mean, we saw a man glitch and disappear. We saw the world literally go wobbly. We just watched a 'she' become a 'he.' We're being chased for reasons we don't understand. And I'm supposed to be curious?" He shook his head. "Right now, I believe anything's possible."
"Can I fly?" Carl asked suddenly, perking up.
Carly shot him a deadpan look. "Tell you what. Go to the rooftop, dive off. If you fly, congrats, you can fly. If you die—then you were just an idiot with confidence."
Carl blinked. "...That's fair."
"Okay, outside now, all of you. I'm running late." Ms. Michelle clapped her hands twice. "We'll talk more tomorrow."
"What's wrong with today?" Jane frowned, her arms crossed.
"Because I won't be coming back early," Ms. Michelle replied without hesitation.
"Why?" Carly asked, sensing something a bit off.
"My life isn't a public news card." Her tone was sharp, "Please. I'd like to take my leave now."
With that, she ushered them toward the door, grabbed her handbag, and stepped into the elevator without another word.
"Your wish has been granted, I suppose," Jake muttered as they exited into the hall. "Now you can go home."
"Whatever," Jane sighed, already drained.
An hour later, they were back at their house. The walk home had been unusually quiet, everyone lost in their own thoughts. When they stepped inside, the silence continued as they inspected every room for signs of a break-in.
It was untouched. Not even a moved chair.
"Seems they came for just us and nothing else," Jane said, checking the living room window.
Carly strolled into the kitchen and opened the pizza box still sitting on the dinner table. "I hated yesterday more than any day in my life. I didn't eat well, nearly puked in a dumpster, and got to tolerate some knock off receptionist with attitude."
"Exactly," Carl said, jumping to agree. "Like, screw that place."
Jake and Jane had already started heading upstairs, clearly over the conversation. Carl and Carly watched them go up, then exchanged glances.
"Wanna watch a movie or something?" Carl asked, flopping onto the couch.
"Sure," Carly shrugged, plopping down beside him.
Minutes later...
Jake's voice rang out from upstairs. "Get your asses up here!" he called out.
"Why?" Carly shouted back.
Jake answered without looking back, voice still low. "Because I wanna push you off the stairs. Just come up already."
Jane stepped out from their room towel wrapped around her neck. "What now?"
Jane rolled her eyes but followed him into the room. Carl and Carly exchanged a quick look, sighed, and turned off the TV before heading up.
Inside the room, the closet door was wide open. Jake and Jane were already inside, facing the mirror. The air was still.
"What's going on?" Carl asked, his voice wary.
Jane turned to them and stepped aside. "Read."
"Read what?" Carly asked, confused. "My reflection?"
But Carl's eyes were already scanning the corner of the mirror, narrowing as he squinted. Then he leaned closer, spotting something etched faintly into the glass. He began to read aloud, voice uncertain at first.
"Do... not... trust... Anchors. N."
They all froze.
The letters had been scratched in hastily—jagged, desperate strokes. Whoever wrote it didn't want to be caught.
They looked at each other, expressions shifting from confusion to tension.
"Well..." Carl shrugged, "I don't know what to say to that."
"I hate this new world." Carly exhaled.