Chapter Three

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The sharpest minds band together to find a solution. VSauce and Kursgesagt team up trying to figure out the science behind the situation. Vloggers, though very few, stay together and just keep screaming. The animators seem to be the majority, so they made a clan. Some musicians made a little group. The overall emotion: panic.

After what seemed like an hour, the doors of the school slammed open, revealing an angry old man with a suit on. He took a few steps forwards, his feet almost dragging behind him. His posture was weak and his stride was bland. He had no distinct features except for a single cut on his lip. His hair was a dark gray, fading near the back. His expression could only be described as "grr" and everyone stood still. His white suit overpowered his appearance, and didn't make him seem like a threat. He strolled down the stairs and stopped at the bottom. He pointed at the crowd, revealing a black rubber glove. He seemed like a character from a really bad movie set in the 80's. The crowd slipped away besides a single person, a white boy with short dirty blonde hair, he was wearing his own merch. "You. Jake Paul." Exclaimed the old man. Jake pointed at himself. The man nodded in response. "How did you get here?" He gave a stern look. Jake stuttered, "I uh got the same message as you guys??" He was breathing hard and fast. The man stopped pointing and gave out a long sigh. He looked up, once again, at Jake. "You don't belong here. We don't accept people like you in his world. Jake was mortified. The old man snapped and almost instantly Jake began to disintegrate into pixels. He screamed as his body was ripped from the world. Although it was a horrible sight, most people sighed in relief. 

The old man stuffed his hand in his jacket and pulled out a note card. He cleared his throat and began to read. "You've probably gotten an introduction from the all-seeing Fidelmed, so this will be brief. I am your principal, Scott Whitmorre, You can call me Whitmorre. I have the same power as Fidelmed. I can banish you from this world with the snap of my fingers, but be warned, banishment means your channel will be wiped from existence.. From now on your task is to live the life of a highschooler, and go home like any highschooler. If you fail any of your pre-assigned classes you will be banished from here, and lose all memory of this place. The same goes for behavioral issues. You will recieve your schedules once my speech is finished, and at the sound of the siren, you will have 10 minutes to go to your first period. If you have any further questions, contact me in my office to the left of the band room." 

He concluded his speech and immediately papers showing what classes each person would have appeared in their pockets. People, trying to fit in, compared classes like any other highschooler. After about a minute of talking the siren rang. YouTubers began rampaging throughout the halls, trying not to be late. Jacksfilms was almost crushed by JonTron, Bobby Duke almost stepped on Alpharad, and James was nearly trampled by the animation squad. When the chaos was over, only Gingerpale was left in the hallway, late. Whitmorre put his hand on his shoulder. "Sorry lad, but it seems your YouTube jouney has ended here. "Don't worry, if you manage to gain popularity on another channel, you could still be successful." Whitmorre stated. Gingerpale broke down in tears on the floor. "Everything I've worked for, gone? I-I can't, I just can't. My career will be over, I won't be able to pay bills!" Replied Gingerpale. Whitmorre spoke once again. "Your finances will be handled eventually, we only want to encourage you to stay here. You won't have any memories anyway. This isn't the end!" Gingerpale wiped a tear. "Really?" "Really." And with that, Gingerpale ceased to exist, all of his subscribers suddenly gone, and his channel deleted. Whitmorre shook his head and made his way to his office. He sat at his desk, a frown forming on his face. "Why must we lie to them?" Cried Whitmorre. Fidelmed stepped out of the shadows. "We must make sure they don't lose hope. I love these channels, but if they don't follow my orders, or rebel against my perfect world, they must be punished." Replied Fidelmed. Whitmorre sighed. "As long as it's for a good cause."

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