Jeremy Blake The Fourth

Clutching his head, a searing headache, a migraine of migraines.
“Jeremy Blake the Fourth.”
Jeremy repeated that in the darkness.
Shadows, then lights, shapes came together to form a white room.
One moment, he had been in the scanning center.
A flash of light, and then darkness, and the massive pain in his head.
He looked at his hands, flexed his fingers, and clutched his head to squeeze out the pain.
“This one’s corrupt, too,” said a voice. “We’ll scan again.”
Jeremy’s pain vanished, along with Jeremy, and another Jeremy appeared in his place.
“Jeremy Blake the Fourth,” he said.

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