Intertoids Tale Eight: Dawn For One

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Interoids was a bizarre fanfiction project created by Natalie Neumann that helped launch her passion for passion for writing fiction. Natalie does not recommend that you try to read the original work due to its low quality, structural issues, and grammatical errors. Instead, she encourages you to read the summary included in Volume 05: Intertoids of The Saga of Vincent Dawn and Volume 01: Intertoids of Natalie Rambles About The Saga of Vincent Dawn to better understand the content of this novella.

It was early in the morning, about seven o’clock, with the Bricks readying themselves for combat, filling their bodies up with reprocessed calories from the few rations that remained before they fixed this world. No more forests, no more nature, just a sleek, cold, gray, rocky, metal-filled wasteland for them to work in, writing back what was once wrong with the world, and ready to do so with all others. However, something odd had happened last night. An alarm had been raised and an unfit man, still retaining hair after the chemicals should have cleansed him along with the rest of the planet. He claimed his name was J-O-N, some form of abbreviation that was not recorded in their appendix. He was in the bunker for several Bricks, base BF53, occupants: JUL.INF-JAY, DCE.PILL-ACE, and LIL.ORK-BHAAL to name a few. It was an elite bunker of sorts, none of the ragtag teams who would rush in, guns blazing, and never shoot anything before someone through fire at their stupid faces.

This was a measure of National Security, since this man’s life signs were not of this World, they were, relatively speaking, loosely related in terms of genetics. It was similar to a pre-Marsed Fem, but no, he still had his penis and lacked breasts, well, ones that were large enough to notice or do much of anything. We sent in the Fem expert, President Doctor Onion Joseph, our great leader who had lead us for the past ten years, leading into our glorious society.

The one known as Birdman, the hairy flabby creature, was tied up with his limbs stretched and his body standing upwards. Metal chains dug into his skin, preventing most of his blood from circulating, with an electric charge prepared to be sent through his spine. He was gagged as well, he screamed a lot beforehand, but was now no longer trying, he apparently accepted his fate.

President Doctor Onion Joseph entered the room with two elite level Bricks, each holding what looked like guns the size of bicycles, glowing with sparks and a blue light. One of the most glorious tools for showing defilers who is the true King. President Doctor Onion Joseph sat down on a chair in the same room, placed his hand on Birdman’s Shoulder and had one thing to say, “What are you doing in my universe?” His confidence was nothing short of breathtaking, he really did sound like he was some sort of god, with a minor hiccup like Birdman being an insult to him. Birdman answered by stating his own confusion. The divine leader replied with a small dagger that he shoved into Birdman’s side followed by a scream from Birdman, and an even louder scream of President Doctor Onion Joseph shouting, “Lies! All of it!” He leaned down and stared Birdman in the eye, all while twisting his knife through his guts, “I am the one in charge of this world! all the worlds must fall before me! He promised it! And I have more than enough power to do so!” Birdman only replied with a plea of mercy. Our leader had only one thing to say, “No.”

President Doctor Onion Joseph took up his dagger, ready to create another gushing hole in this imperfected creature, one with a body that insulted him so, only to have something stop him in mid swing. His dagger had vanished. It was just missing, it did not fall, nobody took it, his grip was like a snake’s, where could it- A figure appeared in the corner of his vision. It was one with long brown hair and a thin body, similar to one of those he sent to the testosterone pits during the first wave of Marsification, so how was he here now? Although, the questions seemed bunk when President Doctor Onion Joseph looked over and saw that the man was floating and holding some flat device, and scribbling on it with a stick. The leader looked back to order his guards, only to no longer see them, they were missing, not unlike his dagger, he assumed.

President Doctor Onion Joseph merely glanced at the man and said, “Have you come for this creature?” Seconds after he asked that, he felt a punch like sensation go through his gut, followed by the man saying, “No, I’ve come to save my friend.” The word was a bit confusing to President Doctor Onion Joseph, since he had not heard its use since he was in power, wait, when did he get into power- It didn’t matter! What mattered was that this man was a terrorist for going against the established empire, and President Doctor Onion Joseph could just shoot him, like he should have done with the fat one. He reached for his firearm, a retro styled micro-arm that packed a punch considering the side, even though reloading it was a pain. Yet, when he reached down, he felt nothing in the holster he had beneath his suit. The floating man must have taken it away.

In the second President Doctor Onion Joseph had looked for his weapon, he noticed how the two men were now missing, but something else was left, something that he had been warned of since he was given the word of god that he would be king of his realm, the portal to another world. He pressed a button on his cufflets, and ordered a code White, the call for an all out attack of an unseen Earth.

Scenario Eight-Two:

Erin Kasindak was in a rush over these past few hours. He had been searching around all of these many Earths, looking for the few who maintained their forms in the attack. His mystical tablet enabled him to find them, and bring them out without needing to touch anything else. So far, he had created another Earth, one far from the point that would cause the universe’s implosion, and had filled it up with a few hundred million individuals thus far. It took a while, since he had to do this himself and not create clones, but he could slow down time, after all, he knew that he wouldn’t have a minute past Midnight to get everyone from his Earth out, and it was already Nine. He thought about redrawing the Earth, but he quickly realized that his knowledge was far more limited than the first time, and he would need to do this the hard way. Yes, he could recreate several landmarks, but this was more of a temporary holding place.

Now, he had just saved his friend, Birdman, and had to explain to him what exactly was going on. It went something like this: Mysterious tablet obtained, was possessing me and turning me into another person, took it out by erasing it, had to create a new Earth, turns out it went against the universe he made with the tablet. No clue where it came from, but the worlds are about to implode into one, and they were waging war over which one will win, and they are all against Earth, even those who are just passive. There are 257 Earths if you count ours, but only two are really fighting for dominance, Birdman was on one of them. And in the case of our Earth, we are getting ourselves spread into 256 variants, some on the same Earths, some on different ones, only one being our normal self, the rest being odd variants who were more often than not transformed. Well, not for long

So, all Seven Billion people are getting themselves destroyed and abandoned on one of these worlds, as ours is acting like a black hole for all of these, and the other Earths are being repopulated by several other Earths. All shifting over in their sleep, in order to get them in without shocking the entire world, with growing tired at an exceptional rate. With the time of their arrival being seemingly random, but often a day or two before the implosion. He had been fed false information regarding the numbers, but he does not think that even those two he met understood the true scope of things here. He would not be able to save everyone, but one man could, now he just had to find him. Erin set Birdman on the newest Earth, the 259th if you want to be technical, and went on searching for him once more.

Scenario: Eight-Three:

Onion Joseph was feeling groggy this morning, he did go to bed earlier than usual, but something about the air he was breathing felt a bit off. He got up, hoping to get some breakfast, when he noticed something odd, his clock was not working, he set an alarm, but there must have been a power outage, and he was not woken up. His entire house was like it was deserted, the electricity, the running water, and even his wife was gone. He quickly put on some clothes, along with a jacket, and went out of his apartment, only to see nobody. No car was active, no one was making a sound, and it appeared that even the animals had deserted the city. I suppose that would explain his cats not being in his apartment.

Onion looked around for hours, with the world acting like it does everyday, and the city being deserted. He wondered how this could happen, did he just sleep through the most uneventful rapture ever or something? Sure, there were crashed cars, but everything else was either just lying on the ground or where you would expect it to be. He did not stop calling for help, he just wanted to see someone again. After all, he was a social worker, he loved talking to people. Now, there was not a soul to hear his words, which, as selfish as it sounded, did make him feel a bit better than just saying them.

However, while wandering around the outskirts of the city, having walked in a circle and then getting his car, Onion drove until nightfall, never finding a soul. He was alone, stranded. He was the last man on Earth, and it sucked. That is, until he saw something out of the corner of his eye, a bright light shining through the sky. Onion drove at the light, hoping to find someone, and hoping his car’s nearly empty gas tank would run off fumes for just a little while before dying down. He was shouting at the light, hoping to grab its attention. Then, everything was white, with the only distinct feature being characters in front of him, it spelled out, “22:56”. A few hours ahead of the current time, as he figured out from a wristwatch he found in a shop he “borrowed” from.

Then, before he could even ask a question, he was being told the answer, and the answer to so many more questions he did not even know of. Onion was now informed, he knew what was going on, his destiny was set in stone, and it was up to him. He was Onion Joseph, every Earth’s final hope.

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