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Jack Manifold never got the credit he deserved.
And he was tired of it.
He never got credit for L’Manberg, was never one of the “ogs”, and sure, maybe he wasn’t there at first, but he was there for the important stuff. He was there after the L’Manberg war, he was there for the election. He became the L’Manberg ambassador and voted POG, etc., etc.
He was one of the Triple T’s. Tubbo and Tommy and Thunder1408. Although nobody remembered Thunder. It was always Tommy this— how hard it was to make a new nation and how awful it was to be in exile— or Tubbo that— how terrible it was to be manipulated by Schlatt, how tragic it was to exile his best friend. But what about Thunder1408? What about the loneliness? The emptiness after his only two friends had gone?
The loneliness.
It was so bad that he had to just. Sleep.
When he awoke again, L’Manberg was gone. There was no one left, no one to talk to. Tommy was in exile, Tubbo was with the president.
So Jack made his own land. A place where he could rule the way he wanted, where he could choose what to be, who to follow. Manifold Land.
It was great. For a time. A motto of “Be Better” shining through the darkness.
But then the loneliness came back, and Jack found himself returning to his L’Manberg roots, to helping them when they’d done nothing in his favor.
And then, Wilbur killed him.
Wilbur killed him for no reason. Jack was on his side, he was fighting with L’Manberg, with the people who’d ignored him all this time.
He’d lost a canon life, all for Wilbur’s amusement.
So he kept to himself, staying in Manifold Land. He went by his days, alone. He missed his best friends, and missed the community he’d had at his beginning days of L’Manberg.
Although, he supposed those days were over.
He didn’t know much about what was going on in the main lands, the places far away from his nation. He knew there was tension, strife, more wars. But he hadn’t been there often. It was too… hard to see the other people.
But too soon he found the vines.
The sick, red vines that wormed their way into his town, into his home. He had to get rid of them, had to make them go away.
Ponk helped him cleanse. But when he went back, the vines were still there, still reaching to take impossibly more than had already been taken from him.
He was fine for a while, maybe a little spooked. They gave off an eerie aura, a sense of dread that Jack wanted to avoid at all costs. But then the things showed up in his inventory.
Vines were in his inventory. He felt possessed, vulnerable. Had he picked them up in his sleep? Had something put them there?
He felt like Connor was the one to blame. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t, but Jack had an itch for revenge that day. He wanted to get back at those who had discarded him, back at the ones who’d left without a second thought. So he cut the vines, finally, and planted them at Connor’s house, hoping they’d call out to him the same way they’d creeped him out.
The vines had killed Timothy too, his chicken. Someone else needed to pay for once.
But he couldn’t catch a break ever because Dream burned his house down. He burned it down because of Tommy, as if Jack and Tommy had spoken in the past few months.
The real kicker, however, was that Jack didn’t even know it was Dream that had done it. He only found out after Tubbo told him that he wouldn’t ally with Manifold Land due to the ‘complications.’
Complications, being Jack’s ‘relation’ to Tommy.
Who was Dream to ruin his land for no reason? It was like Wilbur, burning bridges for amusement, for power. Jack was tired of it. He wanted to get back at them.
But a small part of him still cared for Tommy. He wanted to know what had made things go so south that Dream resulted in destruction. He decided to ask Tommy himself, to visit him in exile.
It was a lot. They hadn’t spoken in forever, and Jack was practically a whole new person. More vengeful, lonelier. He assumed Tommy was too with all the isolation. He hoped that maybe Tommy missed him as well, that maybe they could rebuild their bond.
But Jack’s hopes were wrong.
He’d brought gifts: a full inventory in hope of appeasing Tommy somehow, of putting him in a good mood. He walked through the nether, fire waking with each step. The sound of the lava’s sizzle seemed to be tempting him, to be crying out to him to join the flame.
But he walked on.
When he reached the base, however, Tommy was in the nether as well. He was mining something and when Jack reached out to say something, anything, the blocks beneath him were broken and he fell into the pit.
The lava was hot, Jack decided.
It was so hot that it made him cold. He felt paralyzed, like he was dying. And, well, he was.
He tried to reach out but the lava was pulling him deeper, dragging him down to make him stay. He fought as much as he could, tried to claw his way out, tried to build.
But Tommy shot him, and his hearts dropped to zero. Tommy shot him and he died, with everything he owned on him.
His second canonical life, lost to lava. All his things, lost to the flames.
He didn’t understand it. Didn’t get how the person he’d been trying to talk to — been trying to be reasonable with — could kill him without the blink of an eye.
His old friend had murdered him without a second thought.
He went back almost immediately. He traveled the nether with nothing and screamed at Tommy.
Why would you kill me? Why? Why? Why?
But Tommy said nothing reasonable. He dismissed Jack, told him he knew he was messing with him, that Jack didn’t really care.
Bullshit, Jack thought, seething, You’re the one that left me.
So he went back to Manifold Land, and changed the motto. Be better was no more. He realized the very thing he’d been trying to get rid of — the crushing ruling, the suffering — couldn’t be fixed. It was a state of fact. So, if Jack couldn’t be the best, he’d have to be the worst.
And so, “Be worse” was the new motto, and Jack followed suit.
He made a lair, an underground place for planning out the havoc he would cause, the pain he’d inflict back upon those who’d harmed him before. He allied with the Badlands, a way to stay protected in case things elsewhere went south – if Dream came back for him, even though he probably knew what Tommy had done.
He probably knew, and still, there was no justice. There was never any justice for Jack Manifold.
He plotted and plotted and then Doomsday hit. Really, he didn’t want to fight, but the threat was looming over his own home, so he had to.
He didn’t want to side with the ones that had abandoned him in the first place. Wilbur, the one who’d killed him. Tommy, the same. And everyone else who’d left him without a word. Tubbo, especially, although Jack never could find it in himself to be mad at Tubbo.
But the other side was worse. Techno and Dream were monsters, and it wasn’t like they’d let Jack join them in the mayhem. He was nothing if not a side character to them, a tiny thorn in their side.
He found out Phil had helped Techno. Phil, the guy he’d learned to be all around good. He was shocked, and stunned that he could let this happen, that he was okay with an entire nation being destroyed.
Jack lashed out, challenged Techno, and died.
But he came back. Somehow. And when the war was done, he sat on the bench next to Tommy and Tubbo. With Quackity and now-Ghostbur. He sat down next to old friends, to a man that had murdered him. And somehow all he could feel was sympathy.
Why did he feel sympathy for Tommy?
He was supposed to be vengeful, supposed to lash out, and here he was sitting idly by, reminiscing about the death of a nation. They were old friends, maybe frenemies, and still, Jack couldn’t break the tie. He wanted to lash out, to punish Tommy for what he’d done— for killing Jack and watching him burn.
But he couldn’t.
They left, bound to separate homes, and Jack was still confused. Was he meant to be the villain in the story? And if he was, would he end up like Wilbur? Would he be a ghost, completely devoid of his own personality? Or was he meant to be a side character after all? Was he meant to sit idly by until he was needed? An NPC of sorts, an unneeded lead.
As he thought, his vision turned foggy. His gaze went in and out of focus, from black to color, from the void to real life. He stopped, breath shaky.
It was because of before, he knew. He’d died and nothing had happened. He’d lost his third life, his final straw, and he was supposed to be in the great beyond. He was supposed to be in the afterlife with Mexican Dream and Wilbur and…
He started falling.
The ground below him went slack and he fell through the Earth. He went in and out of focus, and heard screams and shouts and agony that could only be heard in the great down below.
He was on his way to hell. And he didn’t know how to stop the descent.
He was being punished for everything he’d done. For turning against the friends who’d… abandoned him. He would result in nothing unless he fought back.
So he fought.
With every bone in his body, with every nerve and muscle, he fought harder than he ever had before. He had a determination to get out, a need for revenge. He had to get back at the ones who’d wronged him. He couldn’t just stay in the afterlife forever, couldn’t be reduced to dust and ashes.
He felt the ascent and fought harder. He forced every nerve of his brain into moving upward, to reaching the surface.
When his vision went black, he feared for the worst. He thought it was the end, thought he’d never see the light again. But when he opened his eyes once more he was in his bed. In the newly built house of Manifold Land he was sitting, three canon lives reborn.
He had beaten death.
And boy did it feel good.
Under certain inspection, Jack realized the problems in the server all came down to two people. Dream. And Tommy. They were the reason he kept losing. He’d lost his friends, lost his home, lost his belongings. They’d taken everything from him, and nothing had been done about it. Jack was nothing in their eyes. He was a rock in their path, a small pebble pushed aside easier than it was to step on.
He may have been dead moments before, but now he was more alive than ever. He was alive and dangerously focused on justice. On revenge.
When he met Niki again, he was so filled up with rage that even her presence couldn’t calm him down. She was another old friend of his, another to leave when Jack had stayed. But he couldn’t be mad at Niki. She was too kind, too nice to him.
Now, though, she was frustrated. Jack found out he wasn’t the only one undergoing the issue of injustice. They talked and talked and imagined up a plan to get back at those who’d wronged them, to make them pay for simply moving on. To show them the world didn’t simply revolve around them.
He began grinding for materials, trying to build up his land so he could fight against the wrongs.
An unexpected visitor came to his place. Tubbo, whom Jack hadn’t spoken to since the bench, visited and begged Jack to join Snowchester (which, unbeknownst to him, was a new nation Tubbo had created). Jack resisted at first, bound to fixing Manifold Land. But upon further realization, the new ‘home’ in Snowchester would get him closer to Tommy. He left Manifold Land preserved, and started a new nation with Tubbo.
A nation, however, with too many secrets in its back pocket.
Tubbo was working with Tommy once again to get rid of Dream. Tubbo asked Jack to join them. Jack agreed to kill off two birds with one stone: get rid of Dream, then betray Tommy.
However, although Jack was lying to Tubbo’s face, he considered him to be his best friend. He hadn’t had friends in a while, hadn’t been around people in so long. Tubbo was his closest mate now.
If he killed Tommy directly, Tubbo would never want to see him again. Jack knew Tommy was Tubbo’s best friend, knew Tubbo didn’t hold him to the same respect he held the other. But it was fine because once Tommy was gone, Tubbo would not only be left to deal with Jack as a friend, but he’d also be better off. He wouldn’t be a side character anymore, wouldn’t have to deal with what Jack had been going through all this time.
He knew what the pain of loneliness felt like, and he didn’t think Tubbo should ever have to feel that (again).
So he stayed with Tubbo, holding lies and secrets behind his head, and plotted with Niki on how to get rid of the big bad TommyInnit. He told Niki of Project Dreamcatcher– the nukes Tubbo had planned for Dream. They talked of an accidental murder. Of leading Tommy to his doom by bringing him to the testing grounds of the project, where Tubbo would see Tommy die right in front of him.
It was cruel, but in Jack’s eyes, Tommy deserved to die with his best friend watching, and deserved to see the pain he’d inflicted on everyone around him.
Sure, it was unfair to Tubbo. But life was unfair, unjust. And as Jack had learned, you just had to deal with it: to become better, or worse.
The plan, however, didn’t work. Tommy was late, the nukes went off early, and Jack and Niki were forced to come up with another plan.
Why did nothing in Jack’s life ever turn out for the best? He’d done everything he could, masterminded a plan so grand that only Tommy could fuck it up. He could never win, and the thought made him ten times angrier.
Even the party afterward went wrong for Jack. They’d celebrated a successful launch, a grand start to Project Dreamcatcher. Tommy had gotten sick from radiation, an effect of walking in late (although earlier would have earned him a clean cut death). Jack had the perfect opportunity to strike him down when weak, to inflict back the damage he’d ensued, but he couldn’t kill Tommy with Tubbo watching.
He was weak, an embarrassment.
He and Niki needed to revise the plan before they continued, needed to be better.
So he decided to make friends with Tommy. He would gain Tommy’s trust just to destroy it in the end.
When he got there, however, Tommy was quick to mock. He treated Jack as a joke, and Jack was not a joke. They ended up fighting, a fight that Jack was winning. Just as he was about to inflict the final blow, to take away Tommy’s life as he’d done to him, Sam intervened.
Sam, the powerful prison guard, intervened and killed Jack.
It was an outrage. It was unfair, unjust. It was everything Jack had been adamant against. He just wanted people to get what was coming to them. And now, Tommy was saved and Jack lost another life.
Tommy stole all his items and made fun of him and god, did it make Jack angry. He hated Tommy, more than he ever had before.
His plan needed to work, he needed to get back at Tommy once and for all. There was no way it could fail another time, not after he’d lost so much.
He got a job at the Big Innit hotel. He got a job and kissed Tommy’s ass and even though it was the worst thing in the world, it was all leading up to something bigger. Jack was fine as long as his plan ended up working in the end.
The problem was that Tommy was the biggest nuisance Jack had ever met. He looked down on him, persuaded him into free labor, and was just annoying. Jack only put up with it — only suffered — so that Tommy would eventually be in his place, would eventually take hold of Jack’s own burden.
When Tommy got imprisoned, Jack claimed the hotel for himself. Screw The Big Innit Hotel, it was The Big Jack Manifold Hotel now. He scammed people into making more money, and corrupted the system Tommy had built. He took what he felt he deserved, took something Tommy had worked so hard on just to make it his own.
He wanted Tommy to know how it felt to lose something he cared about. All that the blond seemed to have lost so far was the stupid discs, meaningless pieces of music that he’d gone to war in order to get back. A hotel was much bigger, much more difficult to keep a hold of. Jack knew he’d never let the building under Tommy’s rule again; it was now his to claim.
While ruling the hotel, Jack managed to weasel into Tubbo’s life as well. They became closer, and as a result, Jack shunned Niki. He betrayed the one person who had helped him get so far in his efforts, been unfair to her, went against his morals. And all for money, for power.
Niki stopped talking to him, and although Jack felt sad at the notion, he was more excited about his plan. He was getting bank, becoming the littlest bit more powerful on the server, building his empire. Friends were worthless when you had money.
But then Tommy died.
Jack’s plan to actually cause the blond’s death had fallen through once more. It was a good thing, probably. A good thing that Tommy had finally gotten what was coming to him. His whole ploy that he had for the longest time was now worthless. The blond had conquered death without Jack’s influence. It was… sad.
Jack was sad. He missed Tommy. After everything, he missed him. He missed their banter and their ‘playful’ fights. Tommy’s death had been a good thing for the server, a moment of justice for those he’d forgotten about, those he’d pushed aside. But after it all, Jack realized that he had never really wanted to kill Tommy in the first place. It was futile, lame.
He’d spent all his time planning to kill someone he hadn’t actually wanted to kill.
He felt stupid.
So he burnt down Manifold Land, got rid of everything he’d built for himself, rid of everything he stood for. He felt like nothing, so therefore, he should have nothing. The flames took over his whole creation and Jack was still thinking about Tommy.
Tommy was probably his only friend.
Ever since Tubbo started hanging out with Ranboo more and more, Jack became lonelier. His only escape was planning out how to torture Tommy or just talking to the guy, having a little toss up with him every now and then.
It was sick, the way he felt. He felt psychotic. But he missed the way things were between them, missed the way things were even before they were like that, missed the good old days in L’Manberg. He missed when things were easier, when there was one nation together fighting against a bigger one for independence, a classic war story. Now, there were so many places with different backgrounds and stories and Jack could hardly keep up. He was a simple man. A man for honesty, justice, and having a good time.
The times of wishing for the Triple T’s back came to an end when Tommy came back. He was revived and showed up at the hotel, demanding that Jack give it back to him, that it was his to control. He said Jack should listen to him because he came back from the dead, but so had Jack.
Jack had come back from the dead too, and nobody around ever seemed to notice.
Why should he listen to Tommy, of all people? He thought he’d missed him, but their relationship was more complicated than he thought. Seeing the blond now made him want to pound Tommy in the head with a mallet. Did he perhaps not miss Tommy but the idea of hating him instead?
Everything he'd done had been out of his hatred. He’d gotten closer to Niki and Tubbo because of it, expanding his land with it, grown more and more exhausted every day with it. The only things he’d ever accomplished were because of the blond he loathed.
Jack tried to explain his anger, tried to talk about the fire incident once more, but again, Tommy only discredited him and mocked him and told him he was wrong. He was enraged.
He visited Niki to propose a new plan, only to find out she was done with the plans of killing Tommy and had moved on to join other people. People who she wouldn’t elaborate on. Jack was angry. How could Niki abandon him? How could she leave him to fend for himself. What he failed to realize, however, was that he had done the same to her.
Jack yelled and demanded her to tell him why, but she only remained calm as she politely asked him to leave, saying he was welcome there any time. He apologized, shocked he’d been so unfair to his friend. He didn’t understand how he’d gotten like this, how he’d become the opposite of everything he believed in.
He sought to become better. And a new job offer was just the way to gain more discipline.
Pandora’s Box was hiring. Jack Manifold saw himself as the perfect candidate. He applied for the job, did countless things to get on Sam’s good side, and went as far as trying to solve a mystery.
Though, the guard job would only work if Jack could trap Tommy there once more. He missed the visit because of Tubbo, and the plan, although crafted brilliantly, fell through.
Back at Snowchester, one of their two main nukes had been taken. Jack knew from common sense that Ranboo, Tubbo’s newest ‘friend’ had been acting weird lately. He theorized to Tubbo that Ranboo had stolen it, and was only dismissed by his friend. He wouldn’t do that, Tubbo had said.
Jack didn’t quite understand why Tubbo trusted a half-enderman scary guy more than he trusted him. Jack had been there since the beginning, being next to Tubbo’s side for most of the SMP.
And yet, he was pushed to the side, yet again.
While at the hotel one day, Jack was approached by Wilbur. He’d been revived and had dropped by for a ‘chat’. He apologized for abandoning and forgetting Jack, for not allowing him to create his own nation. Jack’s heart soared at the words. Someone had apologized to him, someone had made things right.
He hoped the rest would follow suit.
In the end, Jack made up with Niki. He felt like she was the only one who understood him. They had a strand of peace, of mutual need and trust, and pity.
But the days went on and nothing changed. He was still the same pushed-aside person he’d always been. Tommy had Wilbur. Tubbo had Ranboo. Jack supposed he had Niki, but she was faraway. He was faraway.
His hardships had all been caused by the people he’d trusted most. He didn’t quite know if he could trust anyone again.
He felt alone, more alone than the day he found out everyone had left. He felt like the only man on Earth, a distant beacon, far away from all the rest.
His rage was still there, still fiery, but it was also numb. He didn’t know what to do with it; every plan he’d made had failed. He didn’t know if he should ever make another plan again.
And so, Jack Manifold– upstander of justice– realized he could fight no longer. He laid down in New Manifold Land, destined to stay forever. His anger boiled as he stayed and stayed, far from his ‘friends’, far from humanity.
He thought of the early days, and wished that things stayed that way forever. Wished that there was no election, no exile. He wished the good times never ended. Maybe then, he would still be one of the Triple T’s. But now he was Jack Manifold. The name suited the situation, the distance, the loss.
Jack closed his eyes tight, wishing to wake up back in time, but as he did he felt his body lurch. He was falling falling falling. Through the bed, through the earth. He was nothing and everything at the same time. He was descending to the depths of the Earth, like the time at the bridge on Doomsday.
Death was finally catching up to him, but Jack couldn’t find it in himself to care. He breathed a sigh, relaxed his muscles, and accepted the abyss.
Jack Manifold was nothing if not a believer of truth, an upholder of fairness. He realized then, that this was his karma. This was his payback. This was his justice.