Biochaotic [Chapter 1]


                                            Biochaotic [Chapter 1]


                                            >From darkness comes a glimmering of light of the waking world.

                                            >Your eyes creak open, slowly allowing the dark, blurry mess before you to become increasingly more clear.

                                            >You appear to be laying in some sort of field.

                                            >Not the kind you’re accustomed to either.

                                            >No, this field is verdant. Alive in every possible meaning of the word.

                                            >The distant forest follows suit, being composed of tall, swaying conifers.

                                            >You close your eyes and focus on the grass beneath you.

                                            >From it, you can sense roots connected to roots connected to roots as far out as one can imagine. Into the distant forest and beyond, there seems to be no limit to the connections in any direction.

                                            >A world with such bountiful life…

                                            >For you, it really is hard to fathom…

                                            >That is, it would be were it not for the giant snake-goat thing throwing you through a wormhole or something to bring you here.

                                            >Speaking of which, where is that fucker anyway?

                                            >Your attempt to stand is met with unexpected resistance, sending your ass back into the grass.

                                            >Hm.

                                            >You run diagnostics on yourself and receive a prompt answer in return.

                                            >Equus Ferus Caballus

                                            >It would seem that you’ve been turned into some kind of… horse?

                                            >No, you’re too small to be classified as just a horse, even for being a colt.

                                            >You’d fit more accurately into the term “pony” than anything else.

                                            >Fuck that though! That shit pales in comparison to WINGS!

                                            >You physically turn and check for yourself, and sure enough, a set of considerably sized wings now sits upon your back, just between your shoulder blades.

                                            >That’s fucking sick!

                                            >As excited as the discovery has made you, your excitement is somewhat subdued by the fact that you have no fucking clue how to use them.

                                            >Hard as you may try, you can’t even get them to move an inch. They simply stay pinned against your back.

                                            >Well so much for that… But hey, there should be plenty of time to learn how to use them down the road.

                                            >That is, if that noodle-goat was telling the truth in the slightest…

                                            >You stand -- this time like a quadruped should -- and have a good look around.

                                            >Sure enough, your surroundings match perfectly to the layout you had sensed through the grass: a large, lush field scattered sparsely with flowers and surrounded by a forest on all sides.

                                            >However, you must’ve overlooked something, because not too far a distance from you is a large hill with an equally large, drooping tree adorning its peak.

                                            >Hm…

                                            >Well, with nothing else to do and that goat nowhere in sight, you begin your trek to the hill.

                                            >Surprisingly, unlike with your wings, the motions of walking as a quadruped seem to come naturally to you.

                                            >Huh.

                                            >You kick it up to a trot and find the feeling just as natural.

                                            >Swiftly, you bring your pace up to a canter and then a full on gallop.

                                            >And with that, you grind to a surprise halt.

                                            >Before you’ve even had time to think about it, you’re now suddenly at the base of the hill.

                                            >You must’ve just traveled something like a hundred meters in a couple of seconds!

                                            >A record for your previous body, but this body shatters that limitation with ease.

                                            >That is probably on account of you being a pony and all.

                                            >Hm… That does bring up another, rather interesting question however.

                                            >You stare at your now hoof and focus intensely on it, willing to matter within to shift and change to your whim.

                                            >Sure enough, the hoof shifts and morphs before settling into the desired result: a paw, not dissimilar to a panther.

                                            >You stretch out the digits and extend the claws just to make sure all is working as intended.

                                            >Well, regardless of being a pony now, you’re still you, that’s for sure…

                                            >Satisfied with that knowledge, you allow the hoof to return to normal and resume your journey, continuing up the rather large hill.

                                            >As you ascend, you can’t resist the urge to take mental notes of the giant tree looming overhead.

                                            >Now that you’re closer you can make out the more distinct characteristics of it, such as the wispy, thin leaves draping down from on high, as well as the caterpillar-like flowers endowed with large sums of golden pollen springing from the otherwise mundane, jade stems.

                                            >When you draw even nearer, you can make out the coarse, twisted bark hidden behind the curtain of twiggy vines.

                                            >You can even feel the expansive root network beneath you, stretching further out in all directions than the entirety of the hill itself.

                                            >The observations are sufficient for your brain to automatically fill in any further gaps.

                                            >Salix Babylonica.

                                            >A true weeping willow.

                                            >A deduction you’ve never been able to make before, and had fully never expected to until now.

                                            >For you, it’s kinda like seeing a unicorn in real life…

                                            >Though, with how things have gone in the last 24 hours, you’re not sure that analogy means as much as you think it does anymore.

                                            >You push your way past the tapestry of leafage into the shaded refuge of the tree’s canopy, making contact with the energy of the tree directly as you do so.

                                            >It’s a vast energy.

                                            >Stagnant and stoic, yet warm and comforting.

                                            >It’s… like nothing you’ve ever felt before in your life…

                                            >You have no other desire at the moment but to simply admire such a thing, so you take it upon yourself to simply park up next to it, and rest your head against one of the outstanding roots, basking in its warmth as you close your eyes.

                                            >...

                                            >......

                                            >.........

                                            >It’s because of this relaxation that you can now appreciate the finer aspects of your environment.

                                            >The smell of the grass and flowers and pollen and distant trees.

                                            >The smell of life.

                                            >No pollution for miles that you can detect.

                                            >The feeling of the sun barely peeking through the cracks in the living ceiling above to gaze down upon you.

                                            >The gentle, cooling breeze flowing across your face and into the leaves around you, creating a beautiful symphony of leaves softly rustling against one another.

                                            >No awful droning noises or signals from halfway across the earth.

                                            >Only the slightest errant squeak here and there from the edge of the forest.

                                            >No other people for miles in any direction…

                                            >...

                                            >......

                                            >”You can’t be SERIOUS!”

                                            “HOLY FUCKIN SHIT!!!”

                                            >Your body acts on its own, springing back out of your relaxed position and away from the voice as well as pumping you full of adrenaline in preparation to deal with whoever and whatever snuck up on you.

                                            >Though it does little for your pounding heart, you are somewhat relieved to see a familiar floating figure before you, even though he does seem somewhat peeved.

                                            >He has his arms crossed and is staring at you rather indignantly.

                                            >”You really can’t be telling me that you slept all that time and you were planning on taking ANOTHER nap? I’m known for my generous patience, but everyone has a schedule to keep too you know! I have a tea party to get to and I can’t be delaying such an important meeting for another three hours watching you take a siesta!”

                                            >He suddenly stops and strokes his beard in near-silent ponderance.

                                            >”Though, I do suppose siestas can be quite important, especially after interdimensional travel.”

                                            >He then shakes his head and reassumes his previous stance.

                                            >”No matter! That can wait until AFTER I’ve done what I need to here.”

                                            >Between the copious amounts of adrenaline coursing through your body at the moment and the utter absurdity of this guy, you’re pretty sure there’s no chance in hell of you understanding what he's on about.

                                            “Hu-”

                                            >You can’t even finish your inquisitive sound effect before you are silenced by a thermometer being shoved into your mouth by the noodle-goat, now somehow suddenly dressed in a doctor’s coat with a stethoscope around his neck, one of those reflective thingies with the light in it strapped to his forehead, and a mask stretched to cover the entirety of his elongated snout.

                                            >He quickly rolls over to your side on the little stool he is now seated on and uses the stethoscope to listen to your heart and lungs while simultaneously strapping one of those inflatable cuffs around your front leg before pumping it up to comically large proportions.

                                            >There are a few moments of silence, in which you consider possibly attempting to talk once again, but with the vibe you’re getting from this guy, you probably won-

                                            >”Good!”

                                            >Yup.

                                            >Taking a needle from somewhere, he pops the armband off of your arm, essentially setting off a mini explosion right next to your head that nearly deafens you entirely.

                                            >You’re too stunned by the concussive force of that pop to tell for sure, but you think he takes the thermometer out of your mouth at this point as well.

                                            >It takes you a moment, but you eventually recuperate your senses, and when you do he’s right back in front of you without his attire anymore, but this time he is holding a clipboard that he’s diligently rifling through the pages of as he mutters to himself.

                                            >After a short while of quiet deliberation, he finally decides to speak up.

                                            >”Well, everything seems to be looking good, your heart rate-”

                                            >That’s it?

                                            >He’s not even gonna address all that shit he just pulled?!

                                            >Y’know, you’re pretty used to ignorant assholes interrupting you all the time and just being jackasses in general, but you draw the line of your patience at “flashbanging someone with a fucking balloon and acting like nothing happened”.

                                            “My heart rate is 73 beats per minute on account of you scaring the shit out of me before, my respirations per minute is 26, also thanks to your scare, my temperature is 98.1 fahrenheit, and my blood pressure is 133 over 89, once again because of your dick move. So thanks for that! You could’ve just asked, fucker…”

                                            >You turn and storm your way back down the hill, shoving your way past the stringy leaves of the tree as you do so.

                                            >You’re sure you hear him behind you mumbling something about taking the fun out of something, but you’re really too pissed at the moment to give a shit.

                                            >Just as you reach the bottom of the hill, he flies right by, swinging in front of you to float in a casual, side-lying position.

                                            >You’re left with no choice but to stop in your tracks.

                                            >”Now, now. Let’s not be so hasty. I will admit, I did get a bit sidetracked with all of this formal business, so much so that I haven’t introduced myself properly.”

                                            >He slithers into a more upright and formal position.

                                            >”My name is Discord, I’m known as the definitive master of chaos in this world and many others. I do apologize for any… *Ahem* Let's say, impractical methods I may use. I simply can’t help it sometimes, it’s just in my nature.”

                                            >He makes a sort of shrugging gesture with a slight, off-kilter smile.

                                            >...

                                            >Well, if there’s a creature that would realistically use less than practical means of achieving results, you suppose it would be this fucking disaster of a chimera apparently called Discord.

                                            >One good, deep breath and a sigh are enough to set you back into a more reasonable frame of mind.

                                            >Y’know, things have been VERY strange for you recently, and if you understood what was told to you before you took this deal, this is a world entirely separate from the one you know. So maybe, for the sake of a new start, you should attempt to be a little more understanding of strange things.

                                            >Even if they are infuriating to you.

                                            >You sit down on the ground and muster the fortitude to at least reply.

                                            “It’s fine.”

                                            >Even though it wasn’t, but you can cross that bridge later.

                                            >Discord slithers up closer to you, and with a snap of his talons a tiny stool poofs into existence just below him which he immediately lowers himself onto.

                                            >The way he speaks is slick and cunning, though you put your usual reservations about that kind of thing aside for the moment.

                                            >”Listen, perhaps we started off on the wrong hoof here. I gave you a scare, you said some rather rude things to me, I think we might find it in our best interest to call it even and start off anew.”

                                            >He poofs up a small chalkboard into his claws.

                                            >Written on it is a scoreboard of sorts, with his name on one side and three misshapen question marks on the other, a number 1 being denoted beneath both.

                                            >”A clean slate if you will.”

                                            >Discord pulls a piece of chalk from thin air and proceeds to trace the numbers on the board in reverse, seemingly pulling up the writing back into the piece of chalk itself.

                                            >He looks over his work, satisfied with the result, but flings his bushy eyebrows up momentarily, as if suddenly remembering something, before looking at you.

                                            >”Of course, I don’t think we can move any farther forward until I fill in your side with a more apt title.”

                                            >He gestures subtly to the question marks on the board with his piece of chalk.

                                            >Huh.

                                            >Well, you suppose you do owe him an introduction in return for his.

                                            >After all, him asking for such a thing is probably the most normal thing you’ve heard him bring up in the last several minutes anyways.

                                            >Though the way he speaks…

                                            >It rubs you in all the wrong ways.

                                            >The same goes for his eyes, gazing upon you like a predator waiting to jump on its prey.

                                            >You try to push it aside once more, but it’s too much to ignore.

                                            >An inescapable, paralyzing stare affixed on you with no hope of wandering off to something else.

                                            >Your heart skips a beat.

                                            >He wants something from you.

                                            >You just know it.

                                            >...

                                            >Your name…

                                            >Yes, your name.

                                            >He wants it for himself.

                                            >You’re sure of it.

                                            >You can feel your heart begin to race nearly as quickly as your thoughts are.

                                            >You don’t know why, but he’s clearly too eager to get it.

                                            >His monologue has led up to this point too perfectly, too precisely.

                                            >His tone, that glint in his eye, that grin.

                                            >One might think he’s struck gold.

                                            >This can’t be good for you.

                                            >He almost has you by the throat, you can feel it.

                                            >His teeth around your neck.

                                            >It’s a trap.

                                            >You’re not sure how, but it's a trap, just waiting for you.

                                            >One errant step further and the cold iron can spring up to claim you from below.

                                            >You can physically feel your chest thumping.

                                            >If only he would look away for only a moment, perhaps you could slip away.

                                            >You wouldn’t get far, but maybe somewhere safe enough to alleviate the weight being forced down on your body for just long enough for you to catch your breath.

                                            >Are you even still breathing?

                                            >The world around you darkens, leaving nothing else but you, him, and his piercing yellow eyes.

                                            >The pounding of your heart fills your ears with a horrible, droning cacophony that drowns out all sense of your surroundings.

                                            >Waves of nausea and fear and dread wash over your body periodically like the tide crashing against rocks on the shore..

                                            >Your body wants to shut down.

                                            >You want to escape…

                                            >...

                                            >......

                                            >.........

                                            >It takes all the willpower within you to force yourself back into some semblance of a sound state.

                                            >Deep breath in, long breath out…

                                            >You close your eyes to escape his watch, even if you can still feel it on your body.

                                            >You can’t just shut down now.

                                            >This is your second chance here, and you have to make it count.

                                            >You can tell him your name.

                                            >That’s fine.

                                            >These are strange times.

                                            >He’s a strange guy.

                                            >This is a strange new world.

                                            >Strange things like this are bound to happen.

                                            >You’re just overreacting.

                                            >What’s so bad that could happen because of it anyways?

                                            >The looming sense of impending doom never leaves you, but you do all you can to keep it at bay.

                                            >It’s just a name…

                                            >It’s just a name.

                                            >It’s. Just. A. Name.

                                            >Deep breath in, long breath out…

                                            >You open your eyes to meet his gaze.

                                            “My name is Flux.”

                                            >As the words leave your mouth, so too does whatever energy you have left leave your body.

                                            >You wouldn’t be able to support yourself if it weren’t for the massive weight on your shoulders simultaneously being alleviated.

                                            >Your vision clears, and while the sound of your heartbeat remains, you can once again hear the careless rustling of leaves behind you.

                                            >Just like that, things are back as they should be, more or less.

                                            >See?

                                            >Just a name.

                                            >Nothing bad happened.

                                            >He wasn’t after anything.

                                            >You’re fine.

                                            >That wasn't so hard, now was it?

                                            >Clearly it must not have LOOKED hard, given that Discord is nonchalantly scratching the chalk into his board, now held close to his chest.

                                            >”And that’s with an ‘x’ at the end, yes?”

                                            “Y-Yeah.”

                                            >You take the moment of him doing so to regain your facilities as best you can.

                                            >That mostly just revolves around you coaxing your heart out of its panic and into a more relaxed rhythm.

                                            >By the time you’re fully relaxed and have regained full control of your body once more, you’re amazed to find Discord still hastily scribbling away on the board in front of him.

                                            >You’re sure it’s more than just your name at this point.

                                            >Strange people, man…

                                            >Well, so long as you’re sitting here, you might as well “keep the ball rolling” as the saying goes.

                                            “So, uh, Discord. That stuff that you can do to make things change around you, is that like magic or something?”

                                            >He’s clearly very intently focused on whatever he’s writing.

                                            >It takes him a while to respond, and even when he eventually does, he doesn’t even spare you a glance as he speaks in a mutter.

                                            >”Yes, yes. Something along the lines of that.”

                                            >Huh.

                                            >Magic…

                                            >If it truly is magic, and if it’s anything like what you’re thinking of, you can’t even begin to imagine the actual implications that has on physics in this world.

                                            >Though, you speculating about anything outside of biology is like a tree speculating about anything other than photosynthesis.

                                            >Still, it’s fun to speculate nonetheless.

                                            >Anyways…

                                            >Seeing as Discord is STILL scrawling something frantically on his board…

                                            “So… You said something about being a ‘master of chaos’, right? Does that mean you’re some sort of official or something?”

                                            >You await some sort of response, but this time you never receive one.

                                            >Discord mindlessly continues denoting whatever it is that’s so important on the board, as if you never asked in the first place.

                                            “Uh, hellooooooo.”

                                            >You wave a hoof in an attempt to wrangle in his attention, if only momentarily.

                                            >It actually seems to do the trick, and this time he does at least blandly look up at you for a moment.

                                            >”Hm? Oh, um, yes, something like that…”

                                            >Well now he’s just blowing you off…

                                            >A few more seconds of writing pass before he makes a few decisive dots and checks of some sort.

                                            >He then springs up from his comically small seat, making it disappear in a flash of light as he does so.

                                            >”Alrighty! I think that should do it!”

                                            >He looks over the board in his grip approvingly.

                                            >Definitely a strange guy with strange methods.

                                            >You simply have to ask now that he’s done.

                                            “All that writing, just for four letters?”

                                            >Discord looks down at you quizzically, one eyebrow raised in inquiry.

                                            >”Hmm? Oh! No no no no! You misunderstand! I had to write your name MANY times!”

                                            >Wait…

                                            >What?

                                            >You glance at the chalkboard, only to find that it’s not a chalkboard at all, at least not any more.

                                            >It’s a clipboard.

                                            >The same one from earlier, papers in it and all.

                                            >Your heart sinks.

                                            >”You see, this form from my associates has quite a few blank spaces to fill out, and that was the last piece of information I needed for it to be complete!”

                                            >He’s so jubilant, you swear he would be bouncing up and down if he wasn’t already floating in the air.

                                            >You can’t believe…

                                            >No…

                                            >”Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just take this to them, secure my pay, and then I’ll be back to hand you off.”

                                            >He opens a floating door out of nowhere and prepares to step through.

                                            “Wait!”

                                            >He stops, now halfway through the impossible doorway.

                                            “What does that mean for me? Why do they want me?”

                                            >Discord blankly stares at you for a moment.

                                            >”Why?”

                                            >He chuckles to himself lightly.

                                            >”Well, I haven’t the faintest inkling. But to be truthful, that’s really none of my business. My job is just to bring you here and make sure you’re healthy. Outside of that, I’m really only here for the handsome reward that comes attached.”

                                            >He briefly rubs his claws together with a nefarious grin before quickly perking back up into his previous jubilant state.

                                            >”Anyways, toodles!”

                                            >He steps the rest of the way into the door and shuts it behind him, causing it to vanish with a flash.

                                            >You can’t…

                                            >You don’t…

                                            >...

                                            >Your mind is numb.

                                            >Your body, after the torturous endurance test it's been put through today, finally collapses entirely.

                                            >You choose to simply focus on the lonely blades of grass immediately in front of your nose.

                                            >...

                                            >......

                                            >.........

                                            “...”

                                            >You’re such a fucking idiot.

                                            >The flood of emotions hits you like a freight train.

                                            >Tears burst from your eyes, yet you can't muster any more than a whimper while you bury your face into the green carpet below.

                                            >You want to hide.

                                            >Out of anger.

                                            >Out of embarrassment.

                                            >Out of fear.

                                            >But mostly, out of disappointment in yourself.

                                            >You knew it.

                                            >You knew all along, that in that moment, he was only trying to extract something from you.

                                            >You knew it, and you just let it happen.

                                            >You were foolish to think that he would care about being friendly.

                                            >That he would care about you.

                                            >He was only in it for himself from the very beginning.

                                            >From when you met him, to when he made you that offer ‘for your own good’, to right now.

                                            >He would say anything that was necessary to get what he needed.

                                            >You saw it.

                                            >And yet you still bought it.

                                            >You bought the friendly act.

                                            >You bought the bullshit about a better world.

                                            >You bought all of it.

                                            >And now look where you are.

                                            >All alone.

                                            >Again.

                                            >Laying in a field, just waiting for the next person to come along and pick you up, to do god knows what with you.

                                            >They’ll use you to your extent, and they’ll hand you off to whoever the fuck else will take you for whatever they can get.

                                            >You knew it would happen.

                                            >It’s all that ever happens.

                                            >You’re so fucking stupid to think it could go any other way.

                                            >...

                                            >...Fuck that…

                                            >Not this time!

                                            >You lift your head from the grass, wipe your eyes clear, and quickly scan the area around you.

                                            >He’s not back yet.

                                            >You shoot up to your hooves, immediately darting towards the nearest tree line.

                                            >You run with every last ounce of your remaining might.

                                            >You’re not sure where you’ll go, but you’re not gonna just sit the fuck around and let them have their way with you.

                                            >Today has been full of uncertainties for you, but you can at least have the assurance of one piece of knowledge.

                                            >This world is no different from the kind that you’re used to.

                                            >You breach the treeline and barrel your way through the underbrush, sprinting headlong into the shadowy unknown.

                                            >Whatever may lie ahead, you’ll face it on your own terms!