I let the light from the box flash across me in the dark room, my toothy grin shining bright to it’s only other occupant, my apparent voice on this plane.
Light is such an interesting thing, and one I support wholeheartedly. Wave, particle, miniaturized gnomes? Even in a place a thousand or more years ahead of Equestria in the exploration of science can’t say.
Such a wonderful display of discord, a scientist with a problem they can’t solve. A student with a book they can’t finish, a teacher with a student who will not cooperate, a principle with a teacher who cannot give him the numbers he wants, a board of directors who cut funding because the numbers don’t add up, a library forced to buy outdated books due to budget restraints, and the cycle of disharmony continues.
A common misconception I am forced to correct, usually by strategic application of confusion and pudding, is that I am the embodiment of Chaos.
Do they even watch the show? The pipsqueak trio guessed as much, and were corrected even then. I didn’t even have to correct them. It was that boring schoolteacher. I really dislike teachers. They force harmony through the standardization of even the thoughts of their children. Talk about twisted.
But I am not the embodiment of Chaos. I like Chaos, I sure as hay cause it, but I am much more than that. I am Discord.
Nice to meet you.
No, not you. The other one. It’s not nice to meet you at all.
I cause Discord by breaking of bonds between beings. The pink one would love that bit. Regardless, I do not like to kill, or maim, or even hurt people or ponies. That would be far too simple. Imagine I kill your friend. Do you suddenly dislike that friend? Is that friend no longer a friend? No, killing does nothing for me. Not to say I haven’t tried.
Killing thousands did not make me as happy as breaking the bonds of friendship between those six meddling mares. Then when I do finally try to kill somepony, they go and destroy the curious creation I had decided to use for the job. Not my best idea, that.
I suppose you are wondering why I have decided to explain this all to you. In truth, I have not decided to do anything. I simply understand the situation. I am a creature from a cartoon show that some silly woman made without realizing that I could be as dangerous to her as I am to her ponies. My thoughts, if interesting, may become part of the larger picture. Which would serve me just fine.
My gaze travels to another glowing box. This one is still looping the animation of Celestia being decapitated. I was able to use that little trick to force Celestia, or Lauren, into hiding. I have kept my eye on her, and I have to wonder why she has chosen to hide there. Maybe it is similar to Equestria in some way. It certainly is remote. With her out of the way, I can rule over this city, and this world, as I see fit.
The most powerful rulers never raised a finger to fight, but simply convinced those under them to do what they wanted. I could stride into that hospital and destroy the magic bearer myself, but that would accomplish nothing. If I must kill, if I must do something so base in order to gain my desire, then it must also break somepony.
Why would I kill her without any witnesses? No, I will wait until it would do the most damage, then she will be dealt with.
The voice coughs and rolls his head to the side in his sleep. He is an enigma, my counterpart I suppose. Dangerous. I like dangerous things. I have promised him a wish, a single wish, and I may interpret it however I want. I am sure he has thought that bit over. I wonder what he will wish for.
In my brief time here, I have done quite a bit of looking around. These channels of shows, among which I have appeared apparently, have given me some excellent ideas for distractions and inconveniences to send out into the world. Ancient folklore, modern shows, even a few of my fellow cartoons.
I have asked John for help, to get him into the spirit of the thing, but he seems reluctant to leave things to chance, only suggesting things that would be almost harmless. Though I may take him up on the Tribbles.
The shows that are on bore me, and I wave a claw to turn it off, before making my way to the balcony. This world is beautiful. Skyscrapers pierce the sky like jagged teeth amidst a cacophony of noise and light. The stars themselves are drowned out by the residual light flung into the sky, how Luna would rage.
Looking down on the city, I can see the vehicles they value so much, grinding from one place to another. A population a hundred times the size of Equestria, smashed into a single city, and not a one of them looking to better the lives of others, only their own. This could truly be my home.
But I am not stupid, nor am I naive. I have been the villain for a very long time, and after finding out I was created by the minds of these primates, I now have an insight into my own nature. I am doomed to failure. I am the “bad guy” so I am doomed to fail. Perfect.
The one thing that used to bother me, during my thousand years or more of sleep, was what I would do if I won. It is absurdly easy to break the bond between two friends, but what if there was never one there to break? Would I be content with a land full of chaos and nothing else? Now I don’t have to worry about that. I don’t need to hold back. After all, I don’t have to deal with the future.
That is their problem.