Side Step

by Vocbox

Simple Sending

Suddenly I feel I should probably mention I’m not the only mind behind this, as I am working together with user Renegade. Also, I really don’t own a lot of things, much less My Little Pony. That is copyright Hasbro, bro. Commenting and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, as I would like to improve on some points. For instance, is "cutie marks" capitalized?

Blotting out the moon, a large solitary humanoid flew across the oceans of the planet Earth. Its skin was separated across its body by rings in which its usual rich brown became a sinister black, veins of magma red visible in some areas around the torso and head. Its face a grotesque malformed shape, it is clear that it is no human. Spiked teeth in a circular mouth pointed towards the center like a lamprey while its multifaceted blue eyes scanned the area at all times. This war-born embodiment of conflict flew from place to place with alarming alacrity, as though wind resistance was no more than a myth. Its wings were a pale red and insect-like, pulsing occasionally with the same illuminating red as its veins. It had just finished gathering the information it needed from the other world. In a deep reverberating voice, the seven foot monstrosity’s slightest whisper reminded itself of its goals and concerns.

“She has begun her counterattack…” It needed to hurry if it was going to set all the pieces in their right places. Traveling between dimensions was time-consuming enough, and although a demigod in many respects, it still had to travel a physical distance in order to get anywhere. Dimensions aren’t known for being close together, after all. If any of its chosen pawns weren’t right where they were last seen, there was likely going to be a fit, destroying another large chunk of the already-torn planet. It made haste towards the closest continent, Africa to find the man who had fallen in his despair.

Jason King hadn’t moved much since the being had seen him. He hadn’t moved much in weeks, much less shaved, with a face full of unkempt hair. He was always lost in thought or zoning out with the small figurines in his hands. He occasionally got up to get some food, drink, or use the bathroom, but other than that, the 5’7’’ 22 year old Caucasian man with short auburn hair just sat in the same corner of the same dilapidated hotel as he had the day previous, and the day before that, etc. Over the recent days his navy blue business suit had been mostly ripped apart from overuse, and his once-white undershirt was ripped in strips, most of them serving as bandages for his left arm he had cut when he lost consciousness when he was walking to the bathroom. The few remaining parts of his ensemble were the Khakis he had found in a nearby room and his “lucky” tie, a reversible tie with black on one side, with a smiling cartoon sunrise on the other.

“Speaking of lucky…” the monster floated to the room’s window. “Today is your lucky day, King.” At first, the man hadn’t noticed, but at the mention of his name, Jason snapped to attention. King began to sweat, convinced he had come down with heatstroke and was seeing and hearing things. “Unfortunately for you, I am real. I am here, and your luck is about to change.” The beast said, melting the window and wall where it stepped through.
“S-stay away…”King managed to sputter before standing up to back away from the nightmare that had just disregarded solid wall moments earlier. “Stay the f-”

“Ah-ah-ahh!” It interrupted him mid-swear. “Why don’t we have a little chat, first?” The monster made a motion, as though sitting as the floor rushed up to meet him shaped like a crudely cut chair.

“This isn’t happening…” Jason said to himself. “I died, didn’t I? Or am I dreaming?”

“Neither.” was the monster’s reply, and the deep voice sounded much more serious than it had been moments ago. “I’m here to invite you to play a game of my own design. Now before you start thinking up millions of other excuses, you WILL listen. And when you are done, you WILL make a choice. But let me make this clear, you don’t choose whether you play in this game of mine, you choose how.” It beckoned him to lean in close, as though it were about to impart a terrible secret. “I am going to send you…elsewhere, shall we say. When you reach this elsewhere, you will do what you want, as simple as that. Suffice to say that all I need from you is what you would do without any real instruction. Know now though, that you will stay there until I decide if you should return to good old mother Earth. I am going to give you a choice. Would you rather fit in with the locals or stay as you are: a lonely and broken man?”

“I, I… what?” he said, his voice pretty high for a guy his age. Jason King had dealt with monsters before, but never anything literal. Usually the monsters that he spoke with were independently wealthy amoral pricks, not giant magical insect monsters. His expertise remained steeped in logic and his job, able to easily judge if a business venture was worth investing in or not, so of course in this mad situation all he could say was a broken sentence and try not to freak out.

“Choose now, or I shall be forced to choose for you.” It rumbled the floor as it spoke this time. “You have ten seconds to answer.” It began to count down with its fingers, of which it had 10.

“I, I ah, shoot, I…” 4 seconds left “I’d rather fit in.” It appeared pleased by Jason’s answer and stood from its seat.
With as much of a grin as a round mouth can muster, it said “Rise then, Jason King, and your new chapter shall unfold…” As he stood, he began to notice a strange feeling, like rubbing against velvet, Jason Began to sway, then collapsed, unconscious. The monster struck his body with a ray of white energy, transforming him into the first of its metaphorical pawns. When the transformation was complete, he disappeared, and so did the powerful being.

One down, five to go. It made haste to the next destination not too far, Europe. To be more specific, its destination was a surprisingly intact row of houses in Germany. Here was where the girl was last spotted. As luck would have it, Xena Darrow had chosen to board up one house and stay in it. She was small for a girl in her late teens; 17 years old and not much to show for it. Her matted black hair was only neck length, with a single clump of it grouped in the back by an old hair band. She had cut her own hair, of course. If it was too long, raiders could snatch up a young girl by the hair with no problem. She was around 5 feet tall, and not too skinny for being a drifter. Her pale white skin was contrasted by the fluorescent red of the bed she lay in next to her small plush doll, a blonde haired doll with. Her usual attire was neatly folded next to the bed: a simple pair of carpenter’s jeans and a standard green t-shirt, steel covered boots and a thick blue coat was on the floor, she had found it earlier and brought it in case it got cold again.

Her dreams were constantly disturbed by nightmares, events from the past. Her parents were trapped in their house as it collapsed. She could hear their cries for help, and she ran towards them. Before long, the cries turned to anger, blaming her for their misfortune and she ran away, tears welling in her eyes. A group had found her, and they traveled for a while through cities that seemed to pass them by more quickly than they walked. Quite some time later, the group turned to her and struck, tearing at her clothes and shrieking things at her. She was old enough to produce children, they said, and that was the only reason she was still alive. She couldn’t bear it—she scratched at their faces and tried to run. She grabbed a plank of wood and hit one over the head, bringing it to the ground. She struck another and fled.

”This was why!” she said to herself, “This is why I have to be strong!” But as she seemed to regain control, the ones on the ground rose up with twisted smiles and leaped at her…

“NO!!” she screamed, waking up with a start, adrenaline pumping and beads of sweat running down her face. It was just a dream, and minutes later she calmed down, sobbing.

“Now that’s no way to introduce yourself…” a dark voice spoke from beyond where she could see. “Now my little warrior princess, I think it is time to bring you in to the fold. I know all about you, so don’t interrupt. And yes, this time you are awake.” She froze and tried to see what it was that was talking to her. From the floor, up rose the demigod with no more effort than floating to the surface of a pool. Once it was at its full height in the room, it had to lean over not to scrape the ceiling. “You aren’t going to have to worry about much from now on; I plan to use you in a game of mine. So what’ll it be, conform to the shape I desire or stay as you are, just a weak little girl, helpless in every way?”

“Bugger off.” She spat, her British accent clear as day. She wasn’t about to let a figment of her imagination call her weak.
“If you take too long I shall be forced to make the choice for you. Believe me, this will work better if you choose.” It frowned, or at least appeared to. “I have more important matters to attend to than to wait on you humans all day.” Heat began to overtake the room and she couldn’t help but sweat, fanning her face to cool off. Its ten fingers were put up, and one by one, were closed without either of them making a noise. Once it was done, it growled: “Hmm. Well, that was a waste of time.” It then brought one of its hands to bear against the girl and fired the bright beam, enveloping her, and began the transformation process. “And now I have to hurry just to keep up to my intended schedule, I can’t just leave other demigods’ plans waiting on me.” With as much of a smirk as it could muster, it flew right out of the ceiling and turned towards what was once the USA.

At this time, Captain Bartholomew S Barracuda was walking down an old hovercraft hangar. The 6’3’’ silver haired man was disappointed in the wrecks, the only things left from his once-proud fleet. On the hangar, the crafts and even Barracuda’s long sleeved white coat an emblem was found—a sword aimed towards the ground with feathered wings on either side of the hilt. It was his division’s symbol, as a highly mobile battle unit that he had trained himself. Forty seven years old didn’t seem too old to him, but the last few months were torture. Restrained to a desk job, the warrior’s spirit within him roiled and burned. The war was over, but he believed the United States’ government could still take over if they would listen to him and repair the crafts. Not that it mattered, with no electrical system and no gasoline; there was no way to fuel them. The crafts would just look nicer, and still be just as useless. Tilting his NCO hat down, he leaned against the railing.

“And to think…” the gruff voice spoke with many years of experience jading his tone, “…we ‘won’ if you could call it that.” He sighed, resigning himself to another long night of discomfort and outrage. Every day he requested his division’s resurrection, and every day he was denied. He wondered why the government wouldn’t push for worldwide domination, there were no other world powers that could stand up to even one of his machines.

From one of the craft a deep voice barked: “But that’s where you’re wrong!” Moments later, Barracuda had his sidearm drawn and his other hand readied on his cutlass. The cutlass was for show on other captains, but the sword had always fascinated him and he had diligently learned its discipline, making him deadlier in a close up fight than in a firefight. Not that this made him any worse of a shot, but he always proffered to do things himself in any case. “Wrong on both accounts, by the way. Not only did the USA lose the war, but there is still another ‘world power’ that far outclasses your puny cans of metal. I’ll prove that right now, in fact.” From Bartholomew’s point of view, the voice was coming from inside the craft, and moments later it exploded, leaving the captain on his back and the craft in pieces.

Quickly regaining his stance, Barracuda shouted: “Who are you, and what country do you represent!” It was more of a shout than a question, but the voice answered all the same.

“I am myself, and I represent myself. Or did you have a better set of questions before I tell you why I have come?” the voice proclaimed, stepping from the wreckage causing steam to rise wherever it stepped. For once in his career, Captain Barracuda felt fear from viewing his enemy’s presence. He didn’t falter, to his credit, but the fear was evident on his face as his frown turned to grit teeth.

“Yeah, I got one. What are you?”

“I am Strife.”

“That’s who you are, isn’t it? Now tell me what you ARE.”

“I AM Strife.” Strife’s patience had worn thin with the human. His mind obviously couldn’t handle the concept of incarnations existing. “And I am your god, now. As much as I like your daily struggle to get the ball rolling, humans aren’t the ones that are going to get things done your way, I am.” Strife’s words held the man captive. How much did he know? “I know enough, of course.” Strife said with glee. “Now listen here, kiddo—it’s time to scramble the pawns, of which you are one. I will send you to a locale of my choosing; from there you will act as you would. The choice you get is whether you will fit in, or stick out, a human amongst your enemies.”

“I couldn’t care less about what I look like; I’m itching to get back in action.” Captain Barracuda replied, grinning. Strife spoke his language, so he agreed quickly enough.

“Very well, then.” Strife said, and fired the beam. After the transformation was over, Strife’s spell’s secondary effect kicked in, much like the last two, and sent him off to his new battlegrounds.

Not much farther, Adam Forrest was just leaving another house call to a surviving family. He had managed to make the poultice required to stop the infection, but had run himself out of a few necessary ingredients. He walked towards his reclaimed greenhouse, ready to plant a few extra seeds this month. As Adam neared the door, he heard a noise inside. Curious as to why someone would be in his house instead of outside waiting for him. For a 6 and a half foot tall guy with a white do-rag and deep green cloak, he didn’t even consider that someone would have broken in. After all, he was well known around the area, and always offered assistance with little to no cost to those he helped. As he peeked inside, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Breathing a sigh of relief, he entered his sanctum. Suddenly, the door closed behind him by itself, and when he turned to see why, a giant monster stood in front of him.

“Hello, Adam.”Strife took a step forward.”So nice to see you.”

“No kidding, that looks like one heck of an infection. What happened to your face? Are you alright?” Adam wasn’t scared in the least, and this put Strife off guard.

“I WAS BORN THIS WAY!”Strife bellowed, trying to regain his composure. “Now listen here, you. Option A: explore a magical land of flora and fauna you’ve never seen as a local. Option B: have the populace fear you and defend their precious plants from a terrifying monster; namely, you.”

“Hmm, well the second option is out of the question, but how do I even know if you’re telling the truth?” Adam, more used to lies rather than violence, could tell something was amiss. He was just a medicine man who had studied medical science and medical history before the war. Holding out in a bunker, he hadn’t had to deal with violence then, and when he emerged with the others, he was a giant of a man. While he never had to hurt anyone, people at least feared him. But this was the weirdest thing he had ever seen, and if it was contagious, he would need to learn fast. Maybe this thing was from outer space, he mused.

“No, born and raised here on Earth. But you are interested in new plants, correct?” Strife couldn’t let this one human get the better of him. But it couldn’t harm or coerce him either, for the plan it had in mind.

“Yes, I am! I would very much like to go there and see the plants…with as little difficulty as possible, if you don’t mind.” Adam’s decision was hasty, he really was interested, and caution was quickly thrown to the side.

“Enjoy.” Was all Strife said, and fired his spell. It did as it had done before, transforming and transporting Adam.

In Cuba, the man who supplied the orphanage to keep it going was sitting by himself. Richard Dixon’s dreams had long since been cast aside. The idea of wealthy living was impossible in the world’s new state. With a sigh, the 5’8’’man stood up, dusting his black tunic and shirts off. Without standardized wealth, he had to go for the next best thing, fame. Heroes stood out too much, but those who could supply entire towns became the heroes in history. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about the kids, they meant everything to him.

“But a man’s gotta be able to look forward to something, right?” he asked himself aloud in a quiet and strong voice.

“How right you are.” a voice replied from above. Strife floated down, his wings buzzing slightly. “Though in my opinion, you’ve got a lot more to look forward to than charity.” Without giving Richard time to respond, Strife continued: “Now what if I told you that you were about to embark on a trip to a land where gold is currency, and in no short supply?”

“I’d say you’re bluffing” Dixon answered. But Richard knew nothing about non-human poker faces, and couldn’t read him at all. He instead reached for one of his many hidden blades, ready to whip it out should this conversation turn sour.

“And I’d say you were reaching for a hidden weapon. But enough about hypothetical questions, what would you do when I send you to this new land? How would you rather be; conform to the new society or be the top human?”

“Stay true to myself, and of course... to be the man on top, I'd wear whatever mask necessary!” With a still face of his own, Richard added: “But I’m not about to let you take me away!” and flung the blade at where he supposed the heart would be, but Strife was gone.

“Close enough to an answer, I suppose.” Behind Richard, a single ray struck, and transformed him, then it teleported him away. At least he had some bite in his bark. One more to go…

“Bandits or not, survivors or not, everyone knows not to mess with X!” the powerful young voice came from Blake Eckson Stillwater, or as he was known, X. The people he had been speaking to were a remnant band of raiders that had attacked the camp he was guarding. The 6’2’’ man was wielding a shotgun in one hand, his right hand on the handle of a large chunk of steel in the shape of a sword. He was 20 years old, having only been a gamer before the war, he had managed to attain his greatest goal—respect. His style was definitely that of old video game characters. Gun slings, patched leather pants, one shoulder guard, sections of armor reminiscent of samurai, all covered by a giant tan cloak with a shield emblazoned on it. The sword of course, was just for show. Humongous swords are impossible for humans to use; it was actually a shield that was thick enough to take bullets. He even styled his hair to be spiked nearly permanently.

“Groovy.” He said to himself as the bandits scattered and ran away as fast as they could. It was time to loot the bodies, as was part of his rights in the contract he had with the colony he defended. He started off towards the battlefield after holstering his gun, his large boots making impressions in the dirt as he ran.

“Maybe there’s something else that could describe the situation you are in.” a dark voice from behind said. Strife had begun to enjoy sneaking up from behind more than the other directions.

“…Trouble, huh?” Blake had stopped running and now stood without facing the source of the voice. “What’s your issue mis-” as he turned, Blake saw Strife, an imposing figure to be sure.

“My issue is your issue, hero. No monsters left in this world, only men.”

“And what does that make you?” Blake was not sure if what he was seeing is what he was really facing. Such a large abomination of nature surely didn’t exist, unless… unless video games had been right all along, and he only saw monsters because he was strong enough to face them. This, he mused for a second before being cut off mid-thought.

“A monkey’s uncle, or perhaps their son.” Strife let out a chuckle as Stillwater’s expression changed to confusion. “I come to bring you to a land where monsters are aplenty. YOUR choice is simple: human or native?”Not much time left on Strife’s clock made it antsy to complete this as soon as possible.

“Man, I don’t know… wouldn’t being a native make me a monster, if that’s where monsters are from?” Blake answered honestly, but wondered what it meant by choosing if he was human or not.

“That’s enough of an answer for me.” Strife raised its arm again and fired the spell. Blake’s reflexes managed to bring the shield in-between him and Strife, not that it stopped the spell from teleporting him, shield and all.

At last, all the pieces were in place. Strife’s plan was in action, now all Strife had to do was count on the humans being as human as possible, and its death would be delayed inevitably. Perhaps it would even be able to sustain itself in the other dimensions, as well. A horrifying thought that brought a smile to Strife's face.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In Princess Celestia's audience chamber in Royal Canterlot Castle, two unicorns, two pegasi and 2 earth ponies bowed in front of the royal white Alicorn with a flowing mane like the dawn's colors. One pink earth pony with a brighter pink fuzzy mane bounced up after the bow.

"SO!" Pinkie Pie exclaimed, "Who's the badpony this time, huh? We'll get him good... unless he's misunderstood and scared and alone and all he really wants is friends to play with and have parties with and-oh, I could throw him a party, and then I guess we'll befriend him, but really what are the chances of that?"

"Calm yerself, Pinkie. That's what we're here to find out about." The orange mare with the cowpony hat and southern accent said. Applejack then faced Princess Celestia again. "Ain't that right?"

"Indeed it is; the reason I have gathered you six here, again, is to wield the Elements of Harmony in defense of Equestria. I have sensed the demon's intent and I know that today is the day he will strike. Here is a marked map where the six sites of his invasion are occurring." Celestia levitated a map to the group. She appeared sorrowful as she began the next sentence, "I know this is much to ask of you and your friends, Twilight Sparkle, but I have faith in your abilities and your links with the Elements."

"We won't let you down,Princess Celestia!" Twilight Sparkle, the lavender unicorn with a dark purple mane that had a streak of pink running through it was the speaker that time. "We've handled tougher situations before."

"Yeah, we'll be fine..." the blue pegasus with a rainbow mane started with a smirk, "...as long as we don't have to turn him in before the end of the week, right, Twi?" Rainbow Dash chuckled. That episode was water under the bridge, but it didn't stop being funny. Twilight's cheeks were red from that statement, the embarrassment she felt back then rising to the surface.

"Well, I for one am looking forward to this whole ordeal being done with." Rarity, a white unicorn with a perfectly curled purple man piped in, eager to change the subject and save her friend from the situation. She threw in a glare at Rainbow Dash for bringing it up.

Sensing the awkwardness of the situation, the princess spoke again. "The demon's name is Strife, and he is a powerful and deadly monster. He does not cause suffering for amusement, but for nourishment. He strives only to see death and destruction on a level Equestria has never seen, and I hope will never see." The solemnity of the princess' words sucked the wind out of the six mares' sails. "He takes a bipedal form like an insect or leech, with magma coursing through it's veins. I want you to be careful out there, my little ponies." Discord had been terrible and borderline insane, but he didn't kill anypony. This made the threat of this new demigod all the more dangerous.

While the other five mares donned the necklaces that took the forms of their respective cutie marks, Twilight Sparkle levitated her starburst jeweled tiara and placed it on her head. "We will, Princess Celestia." They then left the throne room towards the specified zones Celestia had given them instructions to be.

Now alone, Celestia looked towards the gardens, where Discord's statue was kept once more. "I hope so, Twilight...my brightest and most faithful student. I truly hope so."

Comments

[uTTerAbsurdity]

Its an interesting concept. Let's give it a shot.

[Vocbox]

233337
sweetrad