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Upgraded voices in my head

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In hindsight, the Squip probably should’ve convinced Jeremy to abandon every bottle of Mountain Dew Red residing in his refrigerator ages ago.

If he’d suggested that downing too much fried his circuits and would retrigger the electrical shocks Jeremy grew way too familiar with or that the pill’s reaction to the soft drink would sicken Jeremy or something along those lines, then maybe Jeremy wouldn’t have chugged so much and, in turn, shut off the Squip’s systems entirely. Jeremy, on the other hand, seemed quite glad the demonic tic tac failed at mentioning the soda’s effect. If the Squip had, he would have never regained his mental stability, repaired his friendship with the Squip squad and his father, gotten the therapy he needed to heal the damage the Squip did to his mind, and finally go steady with Christine.

Now, if only he’d trashed his green Mountain Dew and, consequently, avoided almost dying (Well, okay, he was never actually going to die and at the most he’d be in mild discomfort for a few days, but it still felt like dying to him!).

There lay irony in the day’s relatively average beginning. Jeremy breezed though a few errands, finished streaming a let’s play of level 14 of Apocalypse of the Damned, and got to work editing. Until four-thirty in the morning.

...Yeah, maybe working his ass off until way past midnight wasn’t the wisest use of his time, but there was a deadline to meet.

After suffering through three computer crashes and a major headache, Jeremy stumbled over to his kitchen, laptop in hand, and, in a sleep deprivation induced haze, snagged the bottle of green Mountain Dew Michael left out of the fridge, sipping a minute portion while trudging back to his room. Or, at least, he began to trudge back. Unfortunately for him, a sharp pain coursed through his veins before he could even take his second step, forcing the laptop to slip out of his hands spill soda onto the floor as he desperately gripped the sides of his head.

Target objective unknown. ” A voice averred, despite seemingly having no visible source Jeremy could detect as he frantically scanned his surroundings.

Recalibration in progress. Please excuse some mild discomfort.

Jeremy collapsed onto the floor as a million questions raced through his mind. The fuck is going on? Why is the Squip’s voice the loudest in his head again? Where is he?

Calibration completed. Access procedure initiated.

As suddenly as it attacked him, the searing pain ceased as Jeremy gradually sat up, attempting (and failing) to gather his bearings.

“...What the hell?”

Discomfort level may increase.

Violently shrieking, he yanked his head back down and curled up into the fetal position, gripping tight and gritting his teeth as tears and dizziness blurred his vision.

Accessing neural memory. Accessing muscle memory. Access procedure complete. Jeremy Heere. Welcome to your super quantum unit intel processor.

The young adult gaped at the supercomputer as it faded into reality, smirking and holding out its hand.

“Your Squip.”