Aww Staw Supah Fwuff - Part 7 (Author:Oculus, with art by Carpdime and Wetfluff) (END)

Summary

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Aww Staw Supah Fwuff

A story in seven parts

By Oculus

Adapted from “All-Star Superman” by Grant Morrison, and based off “Supe’ Fwuff" by KMEB

Cover art and illustrations by Carpdime, Final art by Wetfluff

~

Part 7: All-Star

~

continued from Part 6

Sensing a darkness clouding his vision, Clark opens his eyes. He has little idea as to how long he had been asleep, but it was definitely within the fluffspeak concept of a “forever”. He looks around. His last memory was of circling around the Sun, destroying the various space rocks that had been assembled by the Stellar Binder to create a Dyson Sphere, which it used to alter our sacred star’s makeup, and turn into a dying blue dwarf. He remembers that much.

But the buildings he sees do not match any he knows of Earth. They did not have East Asian, African or European architecture. He had been to the aliens worlds of Alpha Centauri, but even their architecture seemed unlike the ones here.

His eyes darting around, he sees fire falling from the sky. He wants to get up and fly, but he can’t. He sees animals like none that exist on Earth running in the distance. However, their shrieks give off a familiar fear and exasperation, unsure of what to do next.

“Quark!”

Supah Fwuff hears his name from a familiar voice. Realizing that he was lying on his back, he rolls back and forth, until he’s slowly on the right side. Picking himself up, he comes face to face with the source of that familiar voice.

“Mom?”

“Quark, my son,” says Clark’s mother, smiling. It was Oswald, but, she didn’t seem to be like the Oswald that Clark had known. She was wearing a costume of sorts, as well as a headdress, and looked a lot younger and cleaner.

“Mom, you look different,” says Clark. And then, he realizes that he is no longer speaking in fluffspeak.

“I sound different!”

Looking around, seeing the masses of fire rain upon the alien city and its natural habitats, Clark asks the important questions, “Where am I? What is this place?”

“It’s a long story my son, but, to keep it short – you’re dead.”

~

Deep under the Pentagon, President Werner Widmore was not happy. Just a few months ago, a reverse Earth had appeared in the Solar System and caused an invasion of mentally challenged humans to invade Earth out of nowhere. Now, he and his men were currently being briefed about the fact that the Sun had turned a shade of blue.

“Why the hell has the Sun gone blue?! And why the hell is there so many asteroids coming to Earth?!!”

“According to the operative known as Asteroid Cowboy, a device of extra-terrestrial origin had based itself around our Sun’s orbit, and was using the Asteroids to create a Dyson Sphere.”

‘A what?!”

“A Syson Sphere, sir. It’s basically a machine that’s able to fully harness the energy of a star, as well as potentially affect it.”

“How the hell did that even get here in the first place?!!”

“So many questions, such little time.”

The voice that said this got up, and with pistol in hand, aimed it at the military presenter. Before the shot could be fired, one of Widmore’s Secret Servicemen yells out, “Get down!” as the servicemen proceed to stand up, aiming their pistols at General Dozer. However, as this happened, three of Dozer’s men all bring out their weaponry. Outside the meeting room, the sound of gunfire could be heard.

“What is the meaning of this, John?!” demanded Widmore.

“The beginning of a new world.”

~

Mark Connors is hiding underneath a table.

Earlier, he had been giving a batch of interns a tour around the Planet’s Bugle. Nothing seemed unusual about the affair, until one of them started to grow in size, and speak in fluffspeak. He then proceeded to rush towards one of the rooms, and blew himself up. The other two, revealing hidden weaponry, were now holding the office hostage. They were threatening the lives of the people in the office, but, they were not interested in money, nor the freedom of speech.

“Where is Mark Connors? Emperor Aurelius demands his presence.”

Emperor Aurelius? Mark is bewildered by that statement. The sandworm has really gone off the deep end, he sarcastically thinks.

“This is taking too long,” says one of the terrorists, as he points out, “why don’t we just kill one of them? It’s not like they matter – the only one we’re supposed to bring back alive is Mark Connors.”

The other assailant, a much bigger man thinks, showing signs of hesitation. However, and with grim resolve, he nods.

“Sure.”

With a sadistic glee, the intern with a blue tie grabs a woman who had been kneeling on the floor, with her hands around her back. Mark recognized the woman as Linda, his co-worker for the past five years. She could be seen crying, as the man yells out, “Mark, if you don’t come out, I’m going to shoot this woman!”

Mark feels a lump in his throat. Linda sees Mark in the distance, but closes her eyes, out of a desire to protect an innocent co-worker, as well not wanting to see death in the face.

“I’ll really do it! Her blood will be on your hands! Is that what you want?!”

“Nu huwties!”

The sound of loud fluffspeak caught the man off-guard, as he sees a white fluffy on the ground. As the white fluffy charges at him, the man then realizes who it was.

“Oh shit!”

With finger on trigger, he is about to fire a round, when his vision starts to see his own body falling to the ground. Within a second, he then realizes that he is now a disembodied spirit, freed from his body. This bizarre experience causes him to lose consciousness. The other man who was at his side throws away his gun, sensing the need for something to deal with this particular biotoy. Taking out a syringe, he proceeds to stab himself in the arm with the chemical. Fluff sprouts all over his body, and his speech slurs, slowly becoming fluffspeak.

“Gib huwties! Die, shitwat!!”

The hulking human-fluffy hybrid charges for Spiritsmith. However, before he could even reach him, the hybrid feels a strong bite clamping down on his arm. It’s followed by another bite on his leg, and a third on his face. Looking around, he sees a number of spirit foxes, harassing him.

“Gu foxies! Gib dummeh munstah biggest huwties!” yells out a small purple fluffy, the size of a ferret, who had been moving about under the desks.

As both men fell to the floor, the office workers at the Bugle quickly surround them and confiscate their weapons. Still crawling on the ground, fearful of another reprise, Mark meets with the two fluffy members of the Band.

“Prince and Mauve, thank God you’re here!!”

As he says this, a flash of lightning could be heard from a door nearby. And out of this door steps Samuel Adams, head of Hasbio, carrying Joseph in his arms. One of the staff, unaware of the secret identity of Joseph as the Porter, remarks, “Mr Adams! When did you get here?!”

“I took the service elevator.”

Going up to the still crawling Mark, Mr Adams offers his hand. Mark, accepting Sam’s offer, reaching out his arm as he gets back on his feet.

“Whats going on? Who are these men? And why did that guy turn into some weird fluffy human hybrid?!”

“We don’t have much time, Mark. You’re in danger.”

~

Outside of the White House in Washington D.C., a platform had been erected, along with a podium. On any other day, it would have been met with some jubilant fanfare, with the presidential occupant making some official speech or declaration. But the eyes of the White House staff that were focused on the podium shivered in fear. For the real president, Werner Widmore, was shackled to one of the pillars of the White House, and the creature on the podium was ex-senator Aurelius Sandworm, in all his glory. With the cameras trained on him, Aurelius begins his speech, his voice televised throughout the US, and the soon, the world.

“Greetings, mortals. This is your emperor, Aurelius, speaking.”

“Emperor?!” a flabbergasted President Widmore yells out.

One of Aurelius’s henchmen, now mutated to be a human fluffy brute, hits the president with the butt of his rifle, as he mutters, “Shaddup, dummeh!”

“I am here to announce the beginning of a new world. A world without Supah Fwuff. A world that will soon be free of the biotoy menance. And a world blessed by me, your new God Emperor.

But for this new Era to happen, the presence of Mark Connors, journalist for the Planet’s Bugle, will be needed!”

~

Aside from the Headquarters, the Band of Heroes operates more than one makeshift bunker in a time of crisis. Buried deep underground, the only way to enter one of these bunkers was through a form of teleportation. Sam and Mark had entered this bunker through a door that had been manipulated by the Porter to be a temporal portal to be this bunker. And there, he sees that Brunhildr, Gargoyle, and the Asteroid Cowboy were being bandaged up.

“I take it you fought Aurelius?”

A battered, bruised but resilient Brunhildr nodded. “Ja. Aurelius took Clark from us. We tried to restrain him, but he was too strong.”

Gargoyle, still in his specialized suit, noted, “I had to persuade the others to escape. Aurelius has gotten too strong – I think he would have actually killed us if we persisted.”

Mark looks around, and sees that only three of the major heroes of the Band were around, along with the three fluffies who were now coming into the bunker.

“Where’s the rest of the Band?”

Asteroid Cowboy, who had been silent, then speaks.

“Aurelius has been attacking various military installations as part of this coup. It seems like he planned this beforehand. He’s got those human fluffy hybrids, and their abilities tend to vary. Some become brutes, some become bombs, it’s hard to say.”

As he says this, a voice comes from a device on his wrist. Sam recognizes it as the voice of the heroine Emerald.

“Cowboy, we need help! Mercury has gone off trajectory!!”

“What?!”

“The Sun! Its losing gravity! If we don’t stop Mercury, it might collide into either Venus, or even Earth! Neptunian and I have been trying to move the planet, but we need the help of your ship!”

Asteroid Cowboy looks around. He wants to stay further, but he knows that, right now, the two space borne heroes need his help.

“Don’t worry about us, Cowboy. We’ll get Clark back.”

With a look resigned to his mission, Cowboy tips his hat. “Give that worm bastard hell.” Following this, his bodily form atomizes, as his body and soul is teleported far away from the bunker, and into the Needlefish III.

Mark Connors looks to the screen and sees Aurelius addressing the world, speaking of a new age where he would rule the Earth as its new emperor. On an altar of wood in front of him laid the body of Clark, the Supah Fwuff. His body was slowly starting to glow yellow, perhaps as a result of the excess solar radiation that his body was unable to handle. And as Aurelius keeps talking, he makes his formal declaration.

“I will eat this fluffy on live television. I will do it, to show how insignificant these damn things are.”

Mark, in visible frustration, asks “Why is he doing all this?”

Samuel Adams looks at the screen. As Aurelius boasts of his newfound powers, Samuel voices his thoughts.

“Clark’s DNA was unique. While he is still a fluffy pony, there was a residual presence of a much more complex DNA structure. It was one we could never understand fully, even though we were able to use it to create the Gifted serum.

I think, and this is just my conjecture, I think Aurelius is going to eat Clark, in the belief that he will permanently gain his powers once he does so. I fear, though, it may be end up being the case of killing the goose that lays the golden egg.”

A bewildered Gargoyle asks, “If that’s the case, why doesn’t he do it now?! Why is he toying with us?!!”

A realization hits Mark, as he remembers the interview he had with Aurelius in captivity, all those months ago.

”He said before that he wanted to eat Clark with me around. He wants to see me suffer.”

Grimly, Gargoyle grunts, “Mark, we’ll handle this. You don’t have to be there.”

“You say that, but, I have a feeling he’ll eat Clark anyway, even if I don’t turn up.”

The occupants of the bunker look at the screen. Aurelius could be seen taking a bottle of pepper, and lightly seasoning the body of Clark. As Mark ponders the complexity of their situation, only one question seemed to provide an answer.

“What would Clark do?”

~

“Quark, my son, what you are experiencing is a simulation.”

“A simulation?”

“All this you are seeing is final moments of the Hopeworld, as recreated by myself, Mar of the House of Tha.”

“House of Tha?”

Even without fluffspeak and a clarity of voice, this felt like too much information for Clark at this point.

“Yes. I am Mar-Tha, and you are my son, Quark-Tha. You, like I, and the rest of our kind, hail from this planet, the Hopeworld.”

Quark of Tha. That was the name the herd from another world had called him, as if he was one of them.

“But, I was born on Earth! And you were a breeding mare, a product of Hasbio!”

“There is more than one universe, in the infinite sea of possibility that is the Multiverse. We only managed to make contact and trade with a few parallel universes, but we had identified the existence of many others. It is true that you are Clark, the son of Oswald. But, in this timeline, in this recreation, you, my son, are Quark of the House of Tha.”

“I see.”

As Clark sees the raging fire raining down upon the alien world, he decides to look up, and see what was causing the blistering heat. Burning a bright and terrible, the star that was the sun of this planetary system was a raging red hot.

“What is happening at the moment?”

“You are currently witnessing the final moments of Skettiwand.”

“Skettiwand? I thought this was the Hopeworld.”

“In our language, the word Sketti means Hope, and wahnd means world, or planet. So yes, you can consider this “Hopeworld”, but we prefer the actual name of Skettiwand.”

“But still, Hopeworld. Why that name?”

The artificial intelligence reconstructed from the memory of Mar of Tha sighs. She waves her front right hoof, and the simulation of a dying Skettiwand disappears, replaced with a vision of Skettiwand in its prime. Below and above, its Sun shines a benevolent yellow. Clark could see various spaceships and fluffies, utilizing technology catered to their intelligence, living in peace and harmony.

“In the past, we called our planet “Earth”, as any sentient species would refer to their own homeworlds. But as our intergalactic empire expanded, our civilization came to realize that we needed a new name, a name to distinguish ourselves from our earlier primitive existence. Though our civilization had different cultures and races, one thing that was eventually agreed upon was the value of Hope. We spread the beliefs of altruism, and the maintenance of Faith in the better tomorrow. The belief in Hope. Thus, we became known as the Hopeworld.”

This simulation then gives way to one of various spaceships, all manned by fluffies, travelling throughout the galaxy. Clark recognizes this as the Milky Way, from the many times Mark tried, but failed miserably, to explain to him.

“And so our Empire spread. We prided ourselves as intergalactic peacekeepers, brokering peace through various different worlds and empires. We never sought conquest, instead we fought to protect the weak and helped fledgling civilizations prosper, while developing uninhabited systems for our empire.”

As she says this, a number of fluffies in astronaut suits were programming a large metallic sphere. The sphere comes alive, and attracts a variety of asteroids to its presence, and uses them to surround a dying blue dwarf. However, the activation of this Dyson Sphere rejuvenates this star, and turns it into a youthful yellow dwarf. Clark realizes what he was looking at, as he exclaims, “That’s a Stellar Binder!”

“Yes. It was a device that we created, and became common throughout the Galactic council, as well as the other parallel worlds of Skettiwand. They were devices that we used to rejuvenate dying stars, a technology that we shared with our allies.”

Clark then sees a massive alien warship come into the simulation. Hovering above with Mar-Tha, Clark sees the various spaceships of Skettiwand and her allies fighting with these dreaded ships in a long and violent war. Mar-Tha’s voice starts to become sombre, as she narrates.

“But perhaps we got too confident. As we kept spreading the message of Peace, Love and Hope, we attracted the ire of various warmongers. As much as we tried to make peace, over time they got more powerful, as they maintained their language of slavery, oppression and supremacy. Our empire dwindled in size, as we lost our colonies, and our people fell victim to various genocides, even within the adjacent worlds.

And then, It came.”

Mar-Tha pronounces the pronoun with much dread, as Clark sees a giant, “thing”. That’s the only way he could describe it. Its eyes, if could be considered one, shone like terrible red stars, and its fingers, its body its shape, its everything, seemed like a giant galactic cloud, as it moved. Its hands crushed the various worlds of armadas, silencing the lives of the billions of fluffies within them. Its brings its gargantuan hand to a Stellar Binder and, with a touch of its “finger”, the Stellar Binder glows a malevolent red, and surrounds itself around a star, causing it to become a premature Red Giant.

“We do not have a name for it. We only know one thing – It reverse-engineered one of our Stellar Binders, and turned it into a bomb. What you are seeing now is our star turning into a supernova.

This is the final day of Skettiwand.”

~

“Aurelius, you’re insane! You’ll kill us all!”

President Widmore looks up at Aurelius

“Oh really? What makes you think that?”

“Turning the Sun blue, poisoning it, just to kill Supah Fwuff? Whose going to fix the sun?!”

“Ah Wernie. My dear, dear Wernie,” says Aurelius in mocking condescendence, “not only do I have Supah Fwuff’s strength, but I also now fully understand the technology behind his powers. The Sun will be an easy fix, once I eat Clark. And the moment I fix the Sun, Humanity will adore me even more as its saviour.”

“Saviour? You’re a monster! You’re the one who made the Sun that way!”

“Yes, and I will do it again if I have to. And repeat it, every time you people take my benevolence for granted.”

President Widmore does not know how else to answer Aurelius. Knowing that anything he could say could result in his death at the hands of this worm creature, he can only offer one question to the worm who once was in the same political party as he was.

“Is this what you really want, Aurie?”

The Sandworm, feeling impatient, starts to scream.

“Is this what I want, are you sure about this, do you think this is right, always this same inane voice, bothering me in my sleep, in my dreams. And I say to it, YES! This IS what I WANT!”

“You want me, here I am, Aurelius.”

Aurelius is taken aback. Looking across the White House and to its gate Mark Connors stands, alone.

“Mark Connors, how nice to see you.”

Two of the hybrids grab Mark, and escort him towards the podium. Forcing their strength upon him, Mark kneels down. He knows that, at any moment, Aurelius was going to eat Clark. Right now, the Band were waiting for the right moment to attack Aurelius, hoping that Mark would somehow distract him.

“How does it feel to know that your fluffy is going to be eaten by me?”

Mark tries his best to remain emotionless as Aurelius licks the unmoving corpse of Clark. Slobbering his saliva all over the lifeless body, Mark wants to gag, but he tries his best to remain stoic.

“Mmm,” grins Aurelius, as he notes, “I can taste the flesh. It’s been thoroughly cooked by the radiation of the sun.”

“You seem chicken, Aurelius,” says Mark, as he eggs him on with a, “Why don’t you just do it?”

Aurelius is taken aback by this indignation. But then he smiles.

“Sure.”

And with one quick motion, Aurelius opens his mouth, and tosses Clark whole into his gullet. Without munching, chewing, he practically takes the entire fluffy downs his throat. Rubbing his belly in mockery, he licks his lips as he says, “Delicious.”

Mark looks to the ground. He bears a brave face, but deep down, he knows that he cannot show fear or sadness to the enemy. And yet, having seen the foal that he had raised for over a decade, he feels a sadness overcome him, knowing that, whatever he could do, he could not prevent this one moment from happening.

Aurelius cackles, his laughter reverberating deep throughout the environment. He knows he has won. But what shall he do now? Kill Widmore on live television? Eat Mark next? Proclaim a crusade against the fluffy pony menace? So many options, but he has all the time-

A fist, composed of a super tensile solid, pushes against the folds of Aurelius’s cheek, shaking him out of the train of his wild imagination. Aurelius looks, and sees a massive version of Robot-man’s armour standing next to him, fists ready.

“Robert,” snarls Aurelius, grabbing his bruised cheek.

“Hello, ‘Emperor’. You should have killed me when you had the chance.”

Aurelius sniffs the air, as he realizes the reasons for Robert’s sudden entrance. “Tachyons.”

“Yes. I used up the remaining supply I had, but if it meant being undetected by your super-senses, it was worth the effort.”

And with a bloodcurdling scream, Aurelius charges at Robot-Man’s new hulking form. The Wormslayer Armour adopts a defensive stance, as it is ready to catch hands with the worm. Sensing that this was the right moment, Joseph opens up a portal, and riding on her steed Grani, Brunhilde wields her spear and flies straight towards Aurelius.

“FOR CLARK!” she yells, as she throws the spear Gungnir at Aurelius. Aurelius catches the spear, but then receives a blow from Robot-Man. Suddenly, Aurelius feels the bit of a giant fox on the end of his worm body, as a swarm of other foxes surround him. He looks around, trying to find the fluffy Foxmaster. As much as Aurelius knows that the fluffies are much weaker than their human counter parts, the combination of Brunhilde, Robot-Man and Foxmaster’s foxes together were keeping him way too busy. But then, Aurelius feels his spirit leave his body. Utilizing his strong will, he forces his consciousness back into his body, only to receive another blow from Robot-Man upon opening his eyes. Prince’s attack, while simple, was enough to weaken him.

As the fight raged on, Aurelius’s guards were being been taken out stealthily by Gargoyle. Wielding his gargoyle suit, and with both Foxmaster and Prince by his side, Gargoyle was able to knock out the still-human members of Aurelis’s private guard. The larger hybrids were either subdued by one of Foxmaster’s foxes, or had their consciousness “pushed out” by Spiritsmith, incapacitating them. After a few minutes, he is able to reach the most important target.

“Gargoyle!”

“President Widmore, please,” says Gargoyle in his trademark low voice, as he cuts the shackles binding the President. “We don’t have much time.”

Aurelius, sensing one of his prey is set loose, rushes towards Aurelius, as he screams, “Gargoyle?!!”

Gargoyle grabs a gun from his utility belt and, pressing a specific button fires a waft of powder at the charging sandworm.

Aurelius recoils, as he yells out, “Oh God!” Even though it was a minimal amount of krypton diflouride, it was enough to make Aurelius wince. As this happened, the palatine doors of the White House flashed with lightning, as the interior of one of the bunkers of the Band could be seen. Gargoyle, grabbing the President, jumps through the door, and slams it shut. Aurelius, recovering from the powder, charges after the slammed door, only to realize that he had now destroyed the front door to the White House in vain.

Aurelius, in immense frustration, yells out.

“Why?! Why do you all bother?!! I am stronger than any of you, and I will kill you al!!!”

“Because we’re not going to give up.”

The Wurmslayer Armour was shattered, revealing Robert Rex on life supports. Though broken, and with his flesh exposed, Robot-Man, in his final armour that he prepared so hastily, is ready to meet death on his own terms with Aurelius.

“You may kill Supah Fwuff, but you’ll never kill the love he had for us. It’s the one thing you’ll never understand.”

Aurelius was getting tired of these platitudes.

“Die.”

Mark jumps in front of Robot-Man’s armour. Showered in the aperture of light, his shirt vapourizes, and he could feel his skin boil, as Aurelius screams into the night.

“I will kill you, the way I killed your fluffy!”

~

“So that’s it? That’s how this all ends?”

Mar-Tha looks at Quark with resignation, as she nods. The simulation then reveals a giant golden hall, filled with gleaming lights, and the statues of hundreds of fluffies.

“We had prepared an archive. The collective memories of our greatest minds, from our poets, philosophers, politicians, scientists, scholars and artists, we pooled them together into this great archive. The goal of this was to pass our Knowledge, our Memories, to a young world far from the Enemy, both as a warning, but also as a gift, that they may learn of our accomplishments.

We managed to identify one world populated by a primitive version of our Human allies, but which had a weaker version of our race. There was a primordial Black Hole within our system through which the signal could pass through, and the last memory of Skettiwand could be sent.

But the problem was, in order to reach that timeline, in order to fire the signal, we had to bypass the great enemy.”

As she says this, the simulation shows the giant galaxy creature sitting between Skettiwand and the asteroid field. Behind it, was the miniature Black Hole, the distance simplified through the means of simulation. Various ships had attempted to fight this creature, or bypass it, but the creature had destroyed every one of them.

“But you, my son. You were determined. Defiant against the wishes of our family, and even more defiant against the enemy, you boarded the ship, complete with the information.”

The simulation showed Quark, in his past life, manning a ship and, with great courage and pure fortitude, evades the fingers of the massive enemy. Travelling at near light speed, Quark’s ship reaches the miniature black hole and touches it. As this happens, the ship glows a beautiful golden colour, as the ship, occupant and information within, spaghettify into the black hole.

“You became pure information as you entered the timeline, and made your way to this fledgling planet, undiscovered by the enemy.”

The simulation then becomes familiar. That day, over a decade ago, the day when a ray of golden light bathes the sun of his owner, Mark Connors. The ray that created Supah Fwuff and Aurelius Sandworm.

“So that’s what happened.”

“Yes, but somehow, the information was split into three. Both the alien creature and you were hyper evolved, but only one of you received the memories and intelligence of the Hopeworld. You were hyper-evolved to be a defender, as intended, but you lacked the intelligence needed to master your powers.

And yet, you had served as Earth’s defender in the past decade. As much as our memories fell into the wrong hands, you, guided by Love and Hope, fought hard to show this primitive species a different way. They had stumbled, and they fell many times. But they have a lot of potential, and you have helped them to realize that potential.”

“It all makes sense now. But why didn’t Aurelius make use of the memories he gained?”

“Aurelius shunned the visions of the Hopeworld as a nightmare due to his petty hatred. And it was only recently that he now realized what had been existing in his mind the entire time.”

Clark, realizing the danger that Aurelius now posed, looked to the vision of Mar-Tha in concern.

“I have to stop him! He’s going to misuse the memories of Skettiwand!”

“What difference does it make son? You’ve shown Humanity the way and, even with your death, they will defy this false god. You have done so much in your life, but your story doesn’t end here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like I said, your body will once again become pure information. You’re dead already, and soon your body will dissipate, and become a pure golden energy. It will find another wormhole, and hopefully, spread the message to another world.”

Clark ponders on that. It seemed so convenient that he had brought a Black Hole to Earth for Robert’s sake. And all he had to do was become this form of energy again, and enter the Black Hole. And yet, even though Mar-Tha claimed he was dead, he could feel a lingering remnant of his presence, his life, somewhere in the brain that was now deep within the stomach of Aurelius.

“You say that my body will become information.”

“That is correct, yes.”

“Then, maybe I can still control my body to some extent, even after death. I’d be like a zombie, but the truth is, I cannot really die, right?”

Mar-Tha recognizes what Clark is saying, as she flats out says, “It is a foolish suggestion. You’ll be risking your new form and damaging the process. And what for? You already did what you could.”

But Clark remains defiant.

”No. I’m going to do it again. I’m going to go against my enemy. As long as my body is still there, maybe I might still have a chance.”

“That is a most foolish thing!” says Mar-Tha, in anger. But, her consternation becomes one of happiness, as she admits, “But it is a brave thing.

I am proud of you Quark, my son.”

The simulation then returns towards the fiery apocalypse of Skettiwand. However, Clark sees the ship that was piloted by Quark in another timeline. Clark could feel he was reliving the last moments of Quark, as he yells out to his mother from the cockpit.

“Watch me, mother!”

“I will! I always love you, Quark!”

As Clark pilots the craft, he could feel the memory of his final moments of his past life. But this was more than a memory. It was a call to action. As he comes closer to the Black Hole, a much larger version of the actual one he came into contact with, he starts to feel his heartbeat, his eyes, his soul, as he slowly feels his eyes opening up….

~

The mighty Sandworm feels something going up his gullet. A force, so powerful, it struggles against the muscles of his oesophagus. Trying his best to keep his recent snack down, he feels a burning heat deep within him, that’s forcing its way out.

Within moments a pink blur bursts through his mouth, cracking three of Aurelius’s teeth. The sandworm, squirms around the ground, as his mouth feels the unexpected but intense pain caused by an unstoppable object removing two of his super-powered teeth. Clark, the Supah Fwuff, now freed from the jaws of Aurelius Sandworm, stares in his direction. Bearing a visage of righteous consternation, his eyes flare up, as the heat of his overcharging body boils off the remaining saliva and bile that had covered him earlier.

“Why don’t you just die already?!” screams Aurelius, and his hurtles himself at Supah Fwuff. Both parties blast each other with heat vision, but their apertures cancel each other out. Supah Fwuff, sense that fighting in the heart of the District of Columbia was too dangerous, utilizes his full strength and uppercuts Aurelius into the air.

PicsArt_04-14-04.33.29

Aurelius hurtles thousands of miles in the sky, taken aback by the sudden and raw strength that Clark was now demonstrating. However, and being acclimated to his new powers, Aurelius re-orientates himself, and charges towards Clark. The resultant shockwave of the collision could be felt from the ground, as both parties clashed in mid-air and keep fighting.

Within moments, the two duelling bodies touch down upon the outskirts of Smokestack City.

Clark hyperventilates. Even though the vision he had brought him back, he could still feel his body overcharging, the product of Sandworm’s most successful attack on him, all those months ago. To the left and right of him, Aurelius’s army was mobilizing, and, even if he could defeat Aurelius, the sandworm was mostly likely going to use his pawns as collateral.

“You can’t do anything, Clark! You can’t kill me, and, even if you tried, you’ll hurt someone in the process!

Is that what you want?” asks Aurelius, his mocking tone permeating.

“Twue. Fwuffy nu can kiww ‘ou.

But, I can do this.”

Aurelius’s was wondering who or what said that. Whatever it was, a sudden beam of energy leapt out of the tip of Supah Fwuff’s horn, and made its way towards Sandworm. It was a momentary attack and, relative to us, was no more painful than a mosquito bite.

sup

“What was that supposed to do? Tickle me?”

And then the senator heard the myriad of voices. Like as thought his senses could hear the thoughts of everyone around him. Grabbing his head in pain, he yells out.

“̴̛͚̽͘M̵̟̱̟̟̀̎a̵̲͛̍k̶̩̅̽͊e̷̢͕̤̽̈͝ͅ ̴̻̟͎͈̟͘i̴̫̿̀t̷͎̓́̄̀͜͝ ̴̯̠͔̯̈́̍̽̓s̸̮̤̏̑͋t̶̮͊o̸̥͔̪͂̄̿̾̇p̵̛̦̳͔̦̂͝,̸̲̞̍̾̏͊ ̶̧̠̗́͜m̷̩͐̓̕a̵̪̞͐͌k̷̹̺̣̚͝ẽ̷͔͚̭̐ ̴̺̟͐̊̌̆ĭ̴̼͔̤͌͗́͠t̵̢͖̦̻̓͆̌̚ ̶̡̞̮̭͂̃͜͝s̸̜̿t̷͍̔͂̈́̚ó̸͓̩̪͓p̵̱̞̽!̷̧̨̳͇͔͌̿͠!̷̱͖̩͉̪͒̑̄̉!̶̜̈̆͝”̵̞̥̲́̌̔͝͝

Aurelius steels himself. He remembers that, per the original applicants for Project Gifted, the recipients of the serum had to concentrate on a single thought in order to slowly learn their powers. Whatever Supah Fwuffy had done to confuse him, Aurelius knew that all he had to do was focus on one thought. There was a simple one that would do the trick – complete and utter hatred of Clark and his kind.

“Child’s play! What was that supposed to do-“

As he says this, he falls to the ground. Re-orienting himself, he now realizes that he can no longer fly.

“Wha-what is this?!! I’m supposed to be more powerful!!!”

“It’s simple, Aurelius.”

Senator Sandworm turns around. Hovering above him is Clark, the Supah Fwuff. But something about him seemed different now.

“Wha the- why…how?!”

“A gravitational beam. Gravity affects time, and I have sped up the effects of the serum you ingested. You no longer have my powers, thanks to the magic beam I fired.”

“Magic?!”

“Courtesy of the mirror world, something I learnt during the brief time I was there. Of course, none of that would have happened had it not been for the black hole, and that wouldn’t have happened if you had not given me my greatest strength.”

Aurelius is indignant. Even though he no longer had the super strength, he still had his intelligence, and the durability that allowed him to fight Clark previously.

“I’ll never let you defeat me! I am far smarter than you will ever be!”

“Ah yes, about that.”

And in a fraction of a second, Clark speeds himself to Aurelius’s side. He firmly places his hoof on the sandworm’s temple. Aurelius, at first taken aback, suddenly feels a great brilliant flash of light ring out within his brain. Supah Fwuff’s eyes glow in the dark with a brilliant golden light, as this spectacle lasts for a good half a minute.

Upon finishing this unusual form of contact, Clark removes himself from Aurelius, and hovers above him. Aurelius collapses to the ground, dazed and confused.

“What did you do?!!!”

As he says this, he feels an odd sensation. Aurelius looks to his right arm, and notices that it is shrinking. Already having small fingers and arms, they become even smaller, until they become a rudimentary limb, the last vestige of a rapid evolution. Feeling both of his limbs disappear, he yells out

“What did you do to me?!!”

“It’s very simple, Sandworm. The beam that we received all those years ago was pure information from a civilization on the brink of extinction. I was the intended target for it, but I was hyper-evolved to be a defender of people, but without the intelligence. You, on the other hand, unintentionally received the gifts of intellect, memories and psionic ability. It was why for the longest time I was unable to relay the last memories of the Skettiwand empire.”

“Ho-how did you know all that?!!”

“I must say, in trying to kill me with the power of the sun, you ended up furthering my own brain development, though with natural means. And now, I have taken back from you what was meant for me.”

Realizing what Clark is saying, Aurelius’s senses that his memories are fading, as he is growing smaller, regressing to his most primitive form. Within a minute, he was half of his previous gargantuan size.

Aurelius yells out, “You can’t do this to me! I did so much, and we could have worked together!”

With minor contempt for his greatest enemy, Clark bluntly states, “If you wanted to work together, we would have done so ages ago, Aurelius.”

Defiant to the bitter end, Aurelius yells out in anger, “You’ll pay for this! I’ll come back! I’ll hunt you and kill you and… an….”

As the remaining bits of intelligence leaves Aurelius’s now-shrinking brain, he could feel his speech slurring, and his memories, his dreams, his desires, all fading from him. In anger, he can only express the one thing he wanted to do to Clark.

“Gib huwties… huwties…… hatechu….hate……”

Slowly, the word hate becomes a soft shriek. As the eyes and teeth disappear, Aurelius Sandworm becomes smaller and smaller. And within moments, only a tiny earthworm is on the ground. Just a few metres away from it was a business suit, the only object to prove that this harmless creature was once the most dangerous being on the planet.

The Band of Heroes, who had tracked the epic fight between Clark and Aurelius to Smokestack City arrived, only to see the business suit and Clark, using his bio-electric field, to hold an earthworm in mid-air. As Clark cradles the mere earthworm that was once Aurelius in mid-air, he laments.

“Even in this form, I cannot hug you. It is such a pity.”

As he says this, he goes to a spot of land. Utilizing his field, he parts the ground, and creates a hole. Clark slowly and gentle lets the earthworm in the hole, and covers the hole up with the dirt.

“Go in peace.”

And that was the last anyone ever heard of Aurelius Sandworm.

~

Millions of miles away, the Needlefish III was tugging at the planet of Mercury, its lasso strengthened by a combination of Emerald’s energy constructs, and Neptunian’s supercooled ice. However, even with these additions, the Cowboy could feel the strain of Mercury on his lasso, as he kept pushing his controls. Nearby, the Neptunian and Emerald were firing away at the asteroids that were departing from a weakened Sun that was losing its gravity.

“Mayday, mayday! This is Asteroid Cowboy! I don’t know how long we can hold on to Mercury! And we can’t stop all these asteroids!!”

Back on Earth, Brunhilde, Gargoyle and Mark Connors rush to see Supah Fwuff on the streets of Smokestack City. All around them, applause could be heard, as a large audience had seen Supah Fwuff’s final triumph against his nemesis. Supah Fwuff was silent, as he was staring at the ground, looking at the final resting place of Aurelius.

But Supah Fwuff turns around with a smile, and greets his friends with a simple, “Hewwo, fwens.”

“Clark, you’re alive!” says Mark, as he embraces his fluffy. Gargoyle is the next to hug him, as he says, “President Werner saw everything. You’re going to get another Presidential Medal of Freedom!”

Brunhilde salutes Clark with a, “Now that was a glorious battle, Clark! Just like old times!”

And Robot Man, his body peeking out of his armour, smiles at Clark, as he repeats the same line he did earlier that day.

“Thank you, Clark.”

Clark appreciates all the love his getting. But, he knows that this moment is short-lived. Feeling pensive, he looks down at the ground.

“What’s wrong, Clark?”

And the next sentence that Clark says surprises everyone present.

“I’m afraid I can’t stay here, my friends.”

All three Band members are shocked by Clark’s sudden and rather perfect English. After a brief while, Robert is the first to say anything, reading out an analysis.

“You’re changing. Your DNA, everything, you’re not just burning up. You’re brain scans are like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

“Yes Robert. I am Clark, the Supah Fwuff you’ve always known. But I am also Quark, of the House of Tha, and the last son of Skettiwand.”

Gargoyle feels like he heard that name before. Slow, the realization dawns on him.

“Quark of Tha…. So that’s what the herd was referring to! But, they were from outer space!”

“I wish I could tell you everything, Gargoyle, but there’s something more pressing at the moment.”

Clark looks towards the sky. Almost resembling a night sky, the sky had gone dim, due to our star becoming a blue dwarf, bestowing less light upon our goldilocks world.

“I cannot stay here. I have to stop the sun from dying.”

“But what can you do? Wasn’t being exposed to the Sun what poisoned you in the first place?”

“It’s more complicated than that, Gargoyle. But suffice to say is that my body is becoming a form of energy. If that is true, I might be able to take command of the Stellar Binder, and fix the Sun.”

“So you’re going to try and hack the Stellar Binder in your new form?”

Supah Fwuff looks to the dimming sun with determination.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

“Clark.”

That line came from Mark, Clark’s owner, who had known his fluffy for so long. Clark’s new form shocks Mark with his perfect English. And yet, Clark’s determination and selflessness reminds him that, even with a greater intelligence, Supah Fwuff is and will always be the Clark he knew and raised to be a good fluffy.

“My dear Mark, my mind feels so different now. I feel like I can sense an endless number of possibilities. I feel like my story could have turned out so many different ways. But here, there’s only one way it can turn out.”

“I’m going to miss you, Clark. I wish I could have spent more time with you.”

“As do I, Mark.”

Clark, hovering in mid-air, offers a final hug to Mark. Mark Connors steps in, and embraces the fluffy pony biotoy who had, for over a decade, been his loyal companion and trusted pet at home, and a superhero to the known world at large. Clark accepts the embrace from his father figure, the man who had taught him to value others over himself, and to utilize his strength to save lives and inspire all.

“I will never forget the time we had together, Clark. Please remember us.”

“I will, Mark. You all have been my best friends. Especially you, who had taken care of me for so long.”

After an eternity in the warm embrace, both parties let go.

“Before I leave, please receive my final blessing.”

“Okay.”

Clark gently places his hoof on Mark’s head. Aside from a slight warmth, Mark doesn’t feel anything too unusual.

Clark smiles, and says the final words recorded by anyone of this superhero fluffy pony.

“My friends, I love you all!”

And Supah Fwuff speeds off. Going at a speed just below the ultimate speed of light, Supah Fwuff races towards the sun, his red cape fluttering. He feels the fluff falling from his body, leaving him bare, but his skin, now golden and ablaze with radiation creates the illusion of a golden streak racing towards the Sun. Feeling his body become pure energy, and pure information, Supah Fwuff sees the remnants of the thought matrix of the Stellar Binder, scattered around a Sun, burning with an ill colour.

With each constant orbit that Supah Fwuff makes, he collects all the remnants of the Stellar Binder, until his bio-electric field surrounds enough material behind him. And then finally, sensing the right moment, he dives right into the Sun, as he starts to work.

Slowly, the poisoned colour of a blue dwarf reverts that to a healthy yellow glow. The threat of a weakened gravitational pull, and a chilling of the Earth is averted, as the omnipotent power of our closest stellar body is returned to its youthful state as a yellow dwarf. In America, the Sun once again glows strongly in the bright day, and in Asia, the moon gives off a similar radiant yellow light, a reminder of our natural satellite’s presence to the ancients.

Asteroid Cowboy, who had been pulling Mercury with all his might, was the first to sense the changes in gravity. Clark had managed to collect most of the errant asteroids into his bubble and now, was healing the Sun with the repurposed Stellar Binder. Sensing Clark’s great sacrifice, yet surmising that he had succeeded in two arduous labours, the cowboy can only tip his hat in respect.

As the magnitude of humanity and fluffies look up and see Supah Fwuff final and greatest deed in the service of Planet Earth, five soft words could be heard from the man ultimately responsible for the Planet’s greatest hero.

“I love you too, Clark.”

~

Determined Son.

Rejoicing Peers.

Brilliant Light.

Loving Friend.

~

Epilogue

Mark finds himself in the same church he had been half a year ago. This time, he was giving the most difficult funeral of his Life. While almost everyone in the Band knew and agreed that Clark wasn’t dead, the majority of Earth’s populace did not know that the being known as Clark, the Supah Fwuff, was once the pet of Mark Connors, journalist for the Planet’s Bugle. Aurelius’s insistence to meet Mark on that dreaded day was written off as the ravings of a madman. However, and because it was determined that Clark would be spending what would be eons within the Sun in his attempt to heal it, Mark knows that he had to consider that the fluffy he once owned had to be presumed dead for legal purposes.

He wasn’t sure what speech to give later for the eulogy. He never prepared one for Oswald, and he sure as hell had difficulty writing one for Clark. He felt resigned to just go up, and be quiet, then sit down. As his mind thinks about Clark, he hears the words from the First Reading of the Liturgy.

“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient and kind; Love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful, it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away.

So now Faith, Hope, and Love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is Love.”

With a little inspiration, Mark comes up to the podium. He was going to keep his eulogy, short, and brief.

“Clark believed in Love. Well, Love and hugs, but definitely in Love. I think it’s easy to brush off love as mushy or boring, but Love is an important thing. Its why, even when he did all his superheroics, he took the time to spend it with the poor, and the weak, the crippled and the disabled.

Even though he’s no longer with us, I believe that Clark would like us to spread his message of love for all. The world could definitely use a bit more Love.”

~

A month later, Mark was catching up with Samuels Adams at the café. Mark had spent most of the past month in quiet retreat, writing a book on Supah Fwuff as recounted by journalists. During this time, he had been out of the loop on what had been going on in the world, especially with Band, and whatever became of Aurelius’s secret army.

“Apparently, Senator Sandworm had the help of some army general by the name of General Dozer. Recently, the general proclaimed himself to be the Incarnation of Aurelius’s prophecy, and has started to dress himself up in a worm costume.”

The mental image of an army general wearing a suit in order to mimic the movement of a giant worm was a little laughable, as Mark joked, “So I take he parades around in a body suit?”

“Somewhat. Unlike Aurelius, General Doz seems to be a trickier one. The Band has managed to take out most of his bases, but it might be a while before he’s fully apprehended.”

“Oh yeah, the hybrids,” says Mark, letting out a big sigh as he leans back, and stares into the sky. He then asks, “Speaking of hybrids, weren’t you planning to recreate Supah Fwuff?”

Mr Adams is a bit taken aback by the suggestion, and doesn’t reply to Mark immediately.

“Oh come on Sam. All this effort in making a serum and replicating his powers, you wouldn’t have thought of trying to clone him? Especially now that he’s gone.”

“We’ve been thinking about it. The thing is Mark, even if we did clone him, there’s no certainty that a Supah Fwuff we create will be anything like the original.”

“That is true.”

For a good minute, both men stare at their coffee. As Mark slowly takes in his drink, Sam voices an offer.

“I wanted to ask, would you adopt another fluffy if he or she was groomed to be the next Supah Fwuff?”

That question had raised an eyebrow. “Why do you ask that?”

“Even if we succeed in recreating Supah Fwuff, that Clark turned out to be the hero was because he had a good owner, who imparted in him important lessons. If we just give any ordinary fluffy super powers, we could have another member of the Herd from Another World. Or worse, another Aurelius.”

“I get what you mean, Sam. I think, if there is to be another Supah Fwuff, it has to be the same way the one we knew came about – he wasn’t born with his powers, but developed them after being brought up to be a good fluffy.”

“Indeed.

So, would you take up on that?”

There was something else that Mark wanted to attend to first.

“I’ll think about it.”

~

Within Gargoyle manor, the man who is known to all as Gargoyle is reading a bedtime story to his pet fluffy, Thomas. Thomas had not seen his friend Clark in a long time, as he asks, “Daddeh, whewe am Supah Fwuff?”

In his nightgown, Gargoyle hesitates. He was ready to give a reading of The Very Hungry Caterpillar to Thomas, like he usually did. But Gargoyle smiles, and put aside the book.

“It’s a long story about Clark, but I’ll tell you about it.”

Work had already begun on rebuilding the Rexcorp facility that had been destroyed by Aurelius’s handiwork, In the past, Robot-man would refrain from appearing in person, relying on the use of his armours to make public appearances. But, and for the reopening of Rexcorp, Robert Rex appeared to the public in the flesh, or rather, in a mobile version of his protective vat. Though he anticipated stares and curious looks, he knew that there were people who accepted for who he was.

And along the inner belt of the Solar System, the Asteroid Cowboy sojourns, watching for any unusual objects. But once in a while, he switches on the telescope of his craft, and turns his eye to the Sun. And even though its faint, because of the bright core of a yellow dwarf, the Cowboy could see a little brave thing, working away at the interior of the sun, developing on the machinations that, while taking millennia to build, would keep it working for eons to come. Keeping this little secret to himself, the Cowboy smiles, as he says, “See you, Space Fluffy.”

~

Mark Connors was in an empty room. All the toys that once belonged to Clark had been sold off, and only one thing remained: a little chest, with a book in it.

Mark recognizes the book. It was Clark’s scrapbook, the very one that Mark himself helped fill. As he flips through the scrapbook, he gets a peak into the mind of his fluffy. And then, he sees Clark, as a foal, hugging a plush penguin. A photo taken into his second day with Mark.

A silent Clark had just finished eating his kibble, but had little else to do. His owner tried to get him to play with some toys, but the toys that he provided also seemed so different and weird, compared to the ones he had with his mummah at the breeding mill.

The young foal wanders the hallways until he sees his father, watching television. On the screen, he sees a bird, a flightless bird, but a bird who was looking after his baby brother.

“What am dat biwd on teevee, daddeh?”

Huh, so fluffies know what a television is, remarks Mark. He explained, “Oh this? That’s Oswald. He’s a penguin.”

“What am a penkwin?”

“They’re a type of birdie fwen that can’t fly. They’re very cute, and very huggable.

Would you like to watch the cartoon with me?”

Clark ponders for a moment. But his curiosity won him over, as he nodded.

“Yes.”

Mark places Clark on his lap, and man and fluffy watch Oswald, the Happy Penguin together. And after a while, Clark started to giggle, as he softly said, “Babbeh wub kartun!”

A month or so later, Mark takes Clark to the nearby store, and looks for a toy to buy for his fluffy. Although Hasbio had tried to advertise theyr expensive plushies for their hypoeallergenic properties, word on the streat was that any plushie from a supermarket was good enough for a fluffy

And indeed, Hasbio didn’t sell Oswald plushies.

“Babbeh wub gibbing Oswawd huggies!”

It all made sense. Mark was bemused at the fact that Clark named his own mother after a cartoon penguin. And yet, that little fact did mean something. It was the first time Clark showed an interest in one of Marks things. And, it was another endearing thing about Clark. Putting down the scrapbook, Mark walks out of the empty room, and sees the hall, in its bizarre architecture. As he contemplated on what he is seeing, his mind casts back to half a year ago, when he met the traveller.

~

It is the dat after the funeral of Oswald, Clark’s mother. In the middle of the night, Clark was outside the house, looking upon the grave of his mother. Watching him from the second storey was Mark, and the Traveller.

The traveller chuckled a bit, as he remarked “I had seen many timelines, but this one was really unique. I know of a few timelines where Clark went on his own, despite his mothers please. And there were other timelines where he stayed with his mother. But, Oswald actually asked for her son stop the space dragon.”

“And what’s the significance of that?”

“It diverges so much from how it would have played out normally. This version of Oswald is definitely special. And perhaps the same applies to Clark.”

The traveller then removes his gloves, and Mark notices that his hands are unusually furry, and his fingernails are unusual. As he brings his odd hands to the helmet, the Traveller reveals his face. Not a face of a human, but the face of a fluffy.

“You… you’re an anthrofluff!”

“Not exactly. While that term is used, we’re not the product of Hasbio’s machinations. I was born on Earth, but in the 437th millennium.”

“That far from the future?!”

“Yes. In the far future, Humanity departed from Earth, but had left behind the fluffies. Over time, and through evolution, the species evolved until it was capable of creating their own civilization, which we patterned after our human creators.”

“Huh. So I take it you’re Clark’s descendant or something.”

“You could say that, yes. I was the Supah Fwuff of my time.”

“Was?”

“A great calamity occurred that necessitated the abdication of my post, and my focus on joining the organization. Thankfully, I was able to nominate a successor before my departure.”

“Huh. So the far future. I guess Clark’s mom was so important that you had to be here?”

“It was. But you’re also important, Mark Connors.”

“Me, why me?”

“Two generations before my time, Earth managed to re-establish contact with Humanity, and I came to know the Over-man of Alpha Centauri. Your descendant.”

“Overman?”

“A time will come when Clark impart upon you a portion of his power. However, and because he will be rapidly evolving at that point into a new form, even a portion of this power will grant you abilities far beyond any ordinary man. And, unlike the serum you once ingested, it will be permanent.”

“Wait a minute. Are you saying I will become a superhero?”

“What you do with the information is up to you, though I can offer you the most common possibilities.

You could utilize the information for a corrupt benefit, and subjugate civilization. You could, go into hiding, and keep this gift to yourself. You could also end up leaving your timeline, and become a member of my organization, traversing the complexities of the Multiverse.

Or, you could follow in the footsteps of Clark. Be the greatest hero of your time. Fight against enemies that no other creature, man, fluffy or animal could.

The choice is yours.”

~

The tap on the forehead that Mark received from Clark had imparted with him some of the memories of Empire of Skettiwand. In addition, Clark’s time in the mirror Earth had also exposed him to some of the information and magic of the reverse Earth, a bit of which Mark Connors was now privy to.

The voice in his head spoke of an ancient base that once belonged to the Empire, based on this planet. Ages ago, the Skettiwand Empire had come here, and Clark, unknowingly, had served as its protector, utilizing its technology to see dangers throughout the world. And now, Mark had access to it.

Mark presses his hands upon the mighty doors of the Thinkin’ Pawace. Before, he wouldn’t have the strength to do so, but now he did. A part of him wishes that Clark had given him a tour of this place. But he will figure it out.

Mark looks up to the sky. He remembers the day Clark first taught him how to control his flight. Slowly, he feels his will overcoming gravity. As his feet dangle above the ground, he floats higher. He meditates upon something Clark said to him, a lifetime ago.

“Fwuffy wiww do am bestest.”

And he speeds off, basking in the light of the overpowering Sun.

~

THE END

Dedicated to KMEB, because there is a point to all of this

Aww Staw Supah Fwuff - Coda (Artist:Wetfluff)

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Finally, after two and a half months, its over. I’ll leave the notes and references to a later post, but I wanted to say something else first.

The original concept of Supah Fwuff can be traced to KMEB, who came up with the idea of a superhero fluffy who had “all the powers”. While I’m not the biggest Superman fan, the mythos of Superman, as well as his pastiches and homages, has been an interest of mine for a while now (with some of my faovurite superhero stories including Invincible and the Sentry). I loved All-Star Superman, and often wondered what an equivalent story for other superheroes would be like. Which is why, when I found about KMEB’s Supe Fwuff, I initially wanted to write Aww Staw Supah Fwuff as a greentext parody, being a little tongue-in-cheek, but still appreciative of KMEB’s unique concept. But then, I squashed the idea initially, because All-Star Superman was this complex story that, I felt, one can’t just make fun of.

There was a message that KMEB left in his final post that struck as chord with me. After seeing an abuse image that affected him, he wondered why anyone else would put themselves through it. And I understand that thought. I myself had initially brushed off the fluffy pony genre when I first discovered it as being too overly grimdark and abuse-centric with little value. But, and as took the time to look thorugh the content, I saw stories and ideas that, I feel, were really unique, and showed there was something of worth to this whole genre. So, I put in this effort for this story as a response. To say that, yes, it was worth subjecting myself to the darker elements of the fandom, in order to see its light.

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Great work OC.

3 Likes

Bravo. Great story and great ending.

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Its been a year since I first started this story, but now that the story has its final piece of art, I guess its time to write down the notes and references for this final chapter.

Notes :

SPOILERS

Summary
  • the idea of Clark’s powers coming from a parallel universe is taken from a plot point in the final chapter Age of Sentry, where it was suggested that the Sentry’s power was from an alternatuve universe. The Sentry is one of Marvel’s pastiches of Superman

  • it could also be compared to how in Superman: Red Son, the “Kryptonians” of that story are actually from the far future of Earth in that story

  • the Traveller being an anthrofluffy descendant of Clark is based off Superman having his own descendants in the comics

And that should be about it.

This was really good. I’m normally not one for the hero genre combined with fluffies, but this was very well done and a great nod to the source material :heart:

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