Preface
Yeah, this probably borders on hitting the FITC Syndrome, but despite the late introduction, the fluffies are still FUN, hopefully.
I’m gonna be level with you, it’s just the first part and I really wanted to publish it already. And when you’re done reading - hopefully - you’ll understand that the next ones will be completely different, and much more FUN.
Also, yeah - the cover is generated in Midjourney. Because it’s there for the looks, it’s not the actual content, alright? Anyway, hope you enjoy the read.
Dry Lake Inbound
It was a time when humankind had only just begun to rise from its knees, battered by a relentless barrage of global crises. It all started with a financial collapse that devastated the economies worldwide, setting off a domino effect of socially destabilizing events. This led to widespread civil unrest, igniting conflicts that spread from nation to nation. Wars ravaged countries, creating waves of refugees seeking safety in a world increasingly retreating into isolationism. As the Western world was torn apart by internal divisions and a resurgent wave of nationalism, it was also hit by an invisible enemy: a global pandemic that would forever alter the fabric of daily life, ushering in an era of uncertainty, fear, and loneliness.
Amid this turmoil, humanity faced another unexpected challenge. The accidental release of fluffies into the wild was initially assessed as a complete non-threat by Ohio’s Environmental Protection Agency and Fish and Wildlife Services teams. They dismissed the possibility of these genetically engineered “biotoys” surviving without human care. Yet, they underestimated the resilience and adaptability of the fluffies. Before long, these creatures not only thrived but began to spread. Aided, intentionally and not, by human actions, they made their way into Cleveland, quickly becoming the city’s most problematic vermin. From there, they spread to every corner of the United States and, eventually, across the globe. Despite their naive demeanor and apparent fragility, fluffies became an invasive force, subtly yet irreversibly transforming every ecosystem they entered.
But the lesson went unheeded even though fluffies became symbols of humankind’s hubris, serving as a living reminder of the perils of playing god. Driven by an insatiable quest for complete control over the laws of nature and the transcendence of mortal limitations, power-hungry people were determined to forge their own path, undeterred by the echoes of humankind’s past mistakes.
~*~
Deep in the Gila Mountains wilderness, the serene night was disrupted by the choppy sound of rotor blades from an incoming transport helicopter. Nestled far from curious ears and shrouded by the veil of night from watchful eyes, the aircraft approached the solitary Dry Lake fire lookout tower built on top of a small plateau. Already home to the tower and an accompanying cabin, it offered no space for a safe landing. With the skill of someone who has done this approach countless times, the pilot circled the peak and made for a nearby clearing maybe seven hundred yards away, guided by an IR flare that glowed only through the helicopter’s night vision optics. Hovering just above a parched, shallow lakebed, the machine gently touched down, its engines roaring steadily. A team of eight swiftly offloaded several crates and barrels while another figure emerged from tall bushes surrounding the landing zone. Bracing against the rotor wash, he strode quickly towards the helicopter, clutching an oversized dossier. He handed over the dossier after a brief exchange and a firm handshake with one of the crew. And just like that, the helicopter ascended into the night sky, leaving the figure alone amid the newly arrived supplies scattered across the dried-up lake.
Moments later, three large pickups, each towing a flatbed trailer, rumbled into the lakebed. Their passengers promptly jumped into action, loading the crates and barrels onto the vehicles. In no time, every piece of cargo was loaded and secured tightly with straps. Without a word spoken, the entire group, including the man who had exchanged documents with the helicopter crew, climbed into the vehicles. They quickly departed, following a narrow road toward the fire-lookout tower.
Questionable Ethics
“New supplies have landed,” announced a tall blonde man to his colleague sitting across the table. His unkempt, scruffy beard and the dark circles under his eyes betrayed poor work-life balance and countless sleepless nights dedicated to his work. “Including those test specimens you asked for.”
Two colleagues shared a moment of respite over their meal in the break room, a welcome break from their demanding work schedule after a long night of preparations for what would come next. The room was utilitarian, with two scratched tables and a handful of well-used chairs dotted across the central space. An aging microwave, a worn down coffee machine, a bubbling watercooler, and a humming fridge claimed one corner, while an old leather sofa faced an outdated LCD TV in another. Dim, buzzing fluorescent lamps bathed the room in a warm light. The scent of reheated meals lingered in the air, blending with the faint smell of industrial-grade cleaning chemicals. Despite its simple setup, the break room offered a touch of warmth and relaxation absent from the sterile minimalism of the lab spaces.
“Specimens, huh? You make it sound so… professional,” his colleague, a noticeably shorter, bald man wearing the same white lab coat with orange accents, responded with a chuckle. “Fluffies, shitrats, but specimens? Sounds so clinical and sciencey. Makes me feel like some xenobiologist exploring alien life forms for some… top-secret government agency.”
“Not really off the mark, are you? Only, not government but private, and instead of alien creatures, you’re studying the wonders of bioengineering and gene manipulation that created the fluffies. People tend to forget they aren’t just random pests.”
“Except, they’re just… shitrats, right? Tiny, colorful guineapighorses that are just exactly that - pests. Some keep them as pets, some abuse them for fun, that’s about it. Shit, Marv, how can you even begin to compare them with some menacing xeno species?”
“Sure, they’re shitrats alright, but so what? Imagine we stumble upon a portal to another world. Do you think we’d start off with some apex predators? More likely, we’d be poking holes in the equivalent of earthworms at the bottom of that alien food chain,” Marvin replied with a laugh, entertained by his colleague’s unfulfilled ambitions. “Look, Stevey… this isn’t some sci-fi. We’re not about to trigger a resonance cascade here. The most excitement related to it we might get is blowing up someone’s microwave casserole.”
Both men shared a laugh at Marvin’s reference, then turned their attention back to the microwave dinner plates awaiting them, hastily scarfing down their meals in silence.
~*~
The two men left the break room, walking down a long corridor illuminated by LED panel lights that bathed the area in a consistent, shadowless glow. The squeak of their shoes against the rubber flooring echoed as they moved away from the dormitories, heading towards the elevator. Marvin swiped his access card against the reader and pressed the call button, listening to the faint hum of the engine that summoned the cabin to their level. With a quiet whoosh, the sliding door opened, revealing an elevator interior as sterile as the corridor they had just left. Once again, Marvin swiped his card across the control panel and pressed another button, and the elevator started to descend.
“Feels surreal, huh?” Marvin glanced at his colleague with a thoughtful expression. “After all the prep with that one surrogate in the freezer, sending data back and forth… we’re finally moving to the next big step.”
“Yup, today’s the day. From all that prodding we did on a single cadaver, now we’re about to see if we can run the whole process with a living specimen,” Stephen replied, his voice tinged with excitement.
“It’s a big leap from dead tissue to a living, breathing organism. Y’think they’re ready for what’s coming? The fluffies, I mean.”
The elevator stopped with a soft ding followed by a prerecorded, monotone announcement: “Level… minus three. Neoform laboratories.” The doors slid open, revealing yet another sterile corridor marked with orange accents, the same kind their lab coats were marked with.
“Ready or not, it’s happening,” Stephen said as they entered the corridor. “But imagine, Marv, if this works… If we can actually achieve that transfer, even with just a fluffy, it could revolutionize everything we know about life and death.”
Marvin offered a dry smile. “From the freezer back to living. How did the CEO put it? ‘We’re not pushing boundaries; we’re redrawing them.’ Man, just hope the ethics committee sees it that way…”
As they parted ways toward their respective workstations, the corridor was filled with a palpable sense of anticipation and a not-so-subtle hint of unease. Today’s experiment was more than just a milestone for the project they’ve worked on for the past two years. It was a moment that could redefine humanity’s understanding of the essence of existence and consciousness. And they were acutely aware of that.
~*~
As Stephen entered the lab, the intercom crackled to life, Marvin’s voice filling the space, crisp and dry from the wall-mounted speaker.
«Stevey, Lucy, you two ready? Let’s do a final check on our setup before diving in.»
A brief flicker of irritation crossed Stephen’s face in response to Marvin’s eagerness. “Marv, I’ve just walked in. Give me a minute to get the console up and running,” he replied, approaching the control station. With its array of three monitors and an extensive keyboard surrounded by a constellation of currently inactive indicator lights, the console awaited his command. With a swift swipe of his access card and a series of keystrokes, the system awakened, its monitors flooded with data streams and alert readouts.
“Morning, Lucy,” Stephen greeted his intern assistant, who was meticulously adjusting cables and attachments around a small surgical table set within a transparent chamber. The aperture within was designed to meticulously monitor and adapt to the test subject’s physiological conditions throughout the experiment.
The lab was a testament to controlled chaos, with every surface cluttered with the tools of their trade: screens displaying complex biochemical data, shelves lined with neatly labeled reagents, stacks of data printouts, and spare parts for the complex machinery installed all around the room. Despite the apparent clutter, there was an underlying order; each item left precisely where it could be needed.
«Well, we’re setting up nicely on this end, Stevey. The synapse link’s readouts are okay, and the quantum linkers are already spun up.» Marvin’s tone suddenly turned much more professional. «Electron pair readings are at 92.5 percent sync. We’re really in the green today.»
Stephen glanced quickly over the console’s readouts, focusing momentarily on the numbers and messages on the screens. “All systems go here too. The synaptic interface shows full functionality, and the neoform has been thawed to operational status.”
Lucy paused her adjustments, her face betraying concern. “Do we really understand the experiment’s full scope, Doctor? Experimenting on fluffies like this… it feels…”
The heavy silence following her words was thick with implications of ethical dilemmas. Stephen met her gaze, the gravity of the unspoken accusation not lost on him. “The ethical issues of our work will be addressed, Lucy… eventually. Our immediate focus is on the success of today’s procedure. We’ll revisit these concerns in due time. Now, if you’re done prepping the table, how about you bring in our test subject.”
~*~
Lucy pushed a metal cart into the laboratory, on top of it resting a large animal transporter. From within, muffled movements and occasional frightened chirps could be heard as they approached the test chamber, a room in the focal point of the laboratory encased in thick plexiglass for both observation and safety.
When she reached the chamber, Lucy shifted the transporter beside the surgical table, its cold metal surface a stark contrast against the transporter’s colorful, plastic exterior. Opening the cage, she revealed its occupant: a red-colored fluffy, visibly shaken and trying to hide in the cage’s corner.
“Okay, buddy, let’s get you set up,” she murmured, more to herself than to the fluffy, as she forcibly pulled him out of the cage despite his fearful protests.
“Nuu! Fwuffee nu wan! Fwuffee wan see famiwy, speshuw fwen, an’ chiwpeh babbehs,” the fluffy pleaded in a quivering, high-pitched voice, visibly distressed.
Stephen joined them, pulling a dossier off the cart and reviewing its contents. “Subject designation H3-01. Refers to itself as Redberry. Male fluffy, adult, leader of his herd, which includes his mate and seven offspring across two litters,” he read aloud, his voice echoing slightly in the chamber. “Preliminary tests show his high problem-solving skills and remarkable calmness… though that seems momentarily absent. Let’s sedate him before the procedure.”
Lucy carefully positioned Redberry on the surgical table, securing him with leather straps. “It’s alright, Redberry. We’ll take good care of you here,” she tried to reassure him while administering a mild sedative to ease his anxiety. His constant barrage of pleas and bargaining dwindled to faint murmurs.
“Huu, pwease wed fwuffee go, nice munstah wady,” Redberry’s voice trailed off as the sedative took effect.
Still flipping through Redberry’s file, Stephen remarked, “His exceptional traits make him an ideal candidate for our first live transfer experiment. His cognitive abilities surpass typical fluffy norms.”
“We should proceed with care, Doctor. These are sentient beings, not just test subjects,” Lucy replied with a tone of concern as she attached monitoring equipment to the now docile fluffy. After a pause, she added, “Stephen… are we sure about this? Is the advancement of science worth the sacrifice? The ethical considerations—”
Stephen held Lucy’s worried gaze, weighing her words. “Think about the broader picture, Lucy. Grasping the consciousness itself, saving countless lives. This work will reshape the world. And remember, these creatures are no more than toys by law.”
As they finished their preparations, the chamber’s equipment buzzed to life, signaling the start of a groundbreaking yet ethically questionable procedure. Stephen moved to his console, reviewed the readouts, and spoke into the microphone.
“We’re set on this end, Marv. How are things with you?”
«The Neoform was just delivered to the test chamber,» Marvin’s voice crackled back. «Final checks are underway, and we’re hooking everything up. We’ll be ready in a jiffy.»
~*~
Stephen cleared his throat, his voice heavy with the moment’s gravity. “Alright, we’re about to initiate the transfer procedure. Remember, precision is key. Marvin, ready to proceed?”
«Absolutely, Stevey. All systems green and ready for synchronization.»
Lucy, stationed next to Redberry’s chamber, glanced at the fluffy reassuringly before focusing on her terminal. “The subject’s vitals are stable. Sedation levels are optimal for the transfer.”
“Excellent. Initiating the procedure.” With a decisive click, Stephen activated the sequence. The lab came alive with the hum of machinery. Screens flashed with cascading data, and a resonant symphony of warning beeps filled the room.
“Power to quantum linkers in three… two… one… I’m seeing predictable readouts in linked electron pairs. Synaptic interface activating… now.”
«Neoform interface powering up… hold on, we’re detecting a fluctuation in…» Marvin’s voice, tinged with concern, cut through. «No, it’s well within acceptable bounds again. Continuing the sequence.»
Lucy watched the preparations, her breath held, as her thoughts drifted between the enormity of their task and concern for Redberry. Stephen’s words echoed in her mind: this was more than an experiment; they were delving into the essence of life itself.
Now charged with a palpable tension, the lab was a testament to their journey into unexplored scientific realms, fueled by the thrill of discovery and the ghost of human hubris.
“We’re through the critical phase,” Stephen finally said, his voice cautiously optimistic. “Marvin, status?”
«Synchronization complete, Stephen. We’re ready for the transfer.»
“Alright, Marv, let’s do it. Punch it.”
The lights in the room flickered briefly as the electrical demand of the machinery spiked up, and…
Unforeseen Consequences
You are Redberry.
You’re a runaway fluffy. You left your daddeh to find a special friend, one he didn’t want you to have. You’re a brave leader of your herd.
Some bright times ago, mean humans captured you and your herd. You told them you didn’t do any bad things and that they should release you, but they wouldn’t listen. They took you to a strange house, where they made you play games for skettis. But they also did scary things, like spraying you with wawa. Or yelling loudly, you remember your babbehs being scared.
Then, they put you in a big metal wingie munsta. They took you to a weird place. The lady did you an owie, and you can’t remember much since then. Except…
Except you are not Redberry. You look around, noticing a soft bed you’re resting on. Your body feels wrong. It feels cold, but it also feels simply wrong. Then you see your hooves. They’re human hooves, fingers, no fluff.
You are not Redberry.
You’re not a runaway fluffy.
You’re one of dummie humans.