I have to admit that this will literally be 40k Tau micro-fluffies combined with the lore from “The Life of Stud from Twist3e”. At first, this was supposed to be a serious narrative, but then I was like “Nah, I’m just going to have fun writing about fucking communist micro-fluffies fighting against humanity in an insane cool-as-fuck speculative fiction.
The invasive pests infesting humanity’s urban world are a far cry from the ever-expanding hidden society of micro-fluffies progressing under the leadership of their mysterious golden-horned alicorn brethren.
The golden-horned alicorns preached to their followers to embrace the hardships of rationality, truth, and progress. Never again, shall micro-fluffies surrender themselves to the carnal instinct of selfishness, bigotry, and gluttony.
Micro-fluffies are to understand that the world is not sunshine and rainbows. It was harsh and unforgiving; as such, it is up to them to band together against the cruelty of reality and find solace in unified improvement.
Without the ability to harness fire and steel, the micro-fluffy civilization utilized the surrounding wildlife instead of conventional technology.
Domesticating various rodents, fungi, and arthropods was lengthy and arduous. Countless lives were lost to wrangling would-be beasts of burden and the passage of time-consuming the ever-so-short lifespans of individual micro-fluffies.
But they did not die in vain, for the learning and experience of even a single fluffy would breathe life into an iota of precious knowledge to be passed on to future brethren.
Shrews, mounted by fluffies, would be carefully trained to help dig new chambers and corridors. Painstaking years of bug farming would give rise to modified springtails, used as loyal helpers to aid in tedious farmland maintenance.
Entire generations would emerge and pass away, with each one trying to improve on the former’s efforts toward selectively breeding favorable traits that ranged from faster-growing agricultural mushrooms to more docile mice that can be ridden.
From each lifetime that passed, new knowledge was accumulated. The young and eager would follow up on the projects of the old and tired. The great wheel of invention was slowly but surely speeding up.
What had been sporadic attempts at haphazard experimentation eventually evolved into full-fledged genetic engineering. Technological innovation showed no sign of stopping, with each new development opening even more paths of biological science.
Already possessing a written language, fluffy societal development skyrocketed via the arrival of a global communication network.
Smarty scientists were able to manipulate the nutrient exchanges between mycorrhizal fungi and plants into focused circuits and nodes, effectively creating biological computers that can transfer data across the supercolony in less than seconds.
Mycorrhizal roots and tendrils were akin to telecommunication wires that optimized the vast bureaucracy and supply chains that acted as the veins and arteries of the subterranean empire.
So came revolutionary mechanical constructs, built from the sophisticated manipulation of biological components, all powered by organic batteries teeming with reactive concoctions.
The fluffy-made machines were ingrained with surgically sewn nervous systems in place of electrical cables. Servos and motors were sculpted from vat-grown muscles and tendons, all controlled by neural-linked buttons and levers.
Cutting-edge power tools and construction vehicles replaced calloused hooves and laboring varmint mules. Food scarcity and housing issues became things of the past.
Automated manufacturing factories consumed raw materials delivered by high-speed pneumatic trains, elegantly churning out refined goods and products in return.
The fluffies reverse-engineered the bioluminescent capabilities of fireflies and glow worms, creating indoor lighting that provided much-needed illumination that allowed their empire to thrive deeper beneath the surface.
As if that wasn’t enough, the micro-fluffies had reached the zenith of communication technology when they tapped into the potential of electromagnetic radiation.
Harnessing the invisible radio waves emitted from artificial bacteria, the ambitious creatures cradled the power of true wireless communication.
Years of back-breaking innovation brought forth bio-electrical supercomputers, broadcasting radios, and even televised monitors with screens composed of interlinked proteins and cellulose.
It was a non-ending stream of research theories and practical concepts that flooded fluffy archives and laboratories around the empire. Any new technological boon immediately became obsolete within a few hours with the arrival of its improved successor, and so on.
Administrative and logistical management, bolstered by wireless channels and signals, was able to keep up with the increasing complexity of the subterranean empire. Everything in society ran like clockwork, there was a place for every micro-fluffy in the Greater Herd.
In a twist of fate, the man-made fluffies genetically designed by humans were now the masters of biological science, able to shape the natural world within their grasp.
But the ability to change the world around them meant very little if the micro-fluffies themselves did not change as well. No, the micro-fluffies have always been performing feats of genetic enhancements on themselves.
Countless eras of bacterial modification, genome splicing, and environmental conditioning have always led to a superior generation of micro-fluffies.
Ever-changing medical science and physiological tinkering ensured that both existing and future generations were smarter, tougher, and faster with notably longer life spans.
Brains grew more complex neural pathways, muscles tightened into dexterous sinews, and vital organs were reshaped towards robust efficiency. Even the spade-like front hooves of the micro-fluffies became cloven, forming opposable thumbs and digits that allowed them to grasp and handle with uncanny prehensility.
Normally, a micro-fluffy would only stand on its back legs to perform “dancies” or maintain a “fun-gun” firearm stance in battle against carnivorous insects. However, as their hind limbs strengthened with gross motor function, the micro-fluffies began to walk in a bipedal manner that enabled the full range of their hoof-paw hands.
The once fragile and clumsy physiology of the typical micro-fluffy slowly faded away, replaced by a form that did not adhere to the makings of a disposable toy, but rather one that suited the vigor and prowess of sapient life no bigger than a cotton ball.
Oddly enough, a keen eye would notice that an alicorn leader would be the first to display changes to their pristine physique before later generations of micro-fluffies could receive the revolutionary benefit of genetic enhancements.
The humans paid no attention to the rapidly evolving creatures; after all, they were too preoccupied with global events that threatened humanity as a whole.
In the few decades that the micro fluffies have flourished within their subterranean realm, humanity was struggling with the sickness and devastation of the original fluffy pony.
Ever since the first fertile fluffies escaped into the open world, there has been nothing but chaos. Immense multiplying herds of fluffies polluted the lands, oceans, and skies, destroying the natural environment and leaving behind only a putrid wasteland.
Fluffies devoured entire fields of food crops, stained city streets with toxic feces, and clogged sewer systems with their pestilent drowned corpses. The future was humanity was grim all thanks to infantile candy-colored horse-like abominations.
An attempt to cull the fluffy overpopulation was the implementation of a man-made virus; however, things went wrong. While the virus managed to infect a majority of the fluffy populations, its effect on fluffies dwindled and began to target humans instead.
Unknown mutations caused the virus to render humans sterile, piggybacking on the widespread fluffy carriers and infecting every person in the world, leaving them unable to have children ever again.
It became known as the Chimeravirus.
The last of humanity was confined to strongholds, threatened by endless hordes of fluffies attempting to claim the cities for themselves. The sheer volume of these fluffy herds was too much for human personnel alone to quell.
Fluffy Control, an organization focused on exterminating the fluffy threat, provided a rather unorthodox solution, the ModiFluffs.
ModiFluffs were genetically modified psycho-conditioned fluffies, designed to serve humanity by hunting down and eradicating baseline fluffies.
Somehow, even after years of entrophy and gradual societal downfall, the humans managed to discover the miraculous cure for the Chimeravirus, preventing the grim demise of the their species. How they did so, is currently unknown to even the most knowledgeable smarty archivists. All they do know, is that a particular ModiFluff and their female handler played a role in such a feat.
The blue smarty scientist, Peaflower, tapped his right hoof-paw against the touch screen monitor to shut it off, having read enough information about humanity for today. The thin membrane of the penny-sized tablet dimmed its glowing diodes, leaving only behind its empty black skin in front of Peaflower.
Leaf-woven papers detailing the copies of human newsletters were scattered amongst the floors of Peaflower’s oval study quarters. A fluorescent ceiling light shone on top of stacks of history books and dirty ceramic dishware. Peaflower stretched his front limbs above his head, laying his tablet on the crowded work desk
The micro-fluffy smarty was at the winter of his lifetime, his bluish fluff was streaked with grey and his cheeks were starting to sag just a little bit. He was only kept alive through the wonders of expensive genetic enhancements and bodily modifications, fitting his elevated status and importance to the supercolony.
For the past week, he had been tirelessly examining nearly every piece of media concerning the state of humanity and it’s most recent events.
Unbeknownst to the common populace of the supercolony, special operation micro-fluffies are routinely dispatched to engage in espionage amongst the scattered human cities and strongholds.
These covert agents utilized remote-controlled surveillance drones, indistinguishable from common house flies, in conjunction with tapping into the local radio broadcasts and satellite channels.
The discreet abilities of their secret intelligence agency allowed the alicorn high command to accurately access the current state of the world above them.
Despite the golden-horned alicorns publicly forbidding direct contact with humans, they knew it was a pragmatic caution to keep a keen eye on humanity, a prudence that is now relevant to the security of the empire.
Peaflower was allowed access to the gathered information due to his connection with one of the nearby alicorns, known as Truelight, who trusted him to find good use with such classified data.
To be entrusted with such a goal was a great honor, but was also a monumental task with a non-negotiable timeline.
For the first time in the history of the supercolony, the sophisticated micro-fluffies came into conflict with the humans. Worst of all, it was the Fluffy Control organization.
As the years passed, the growing population of the expanding empire demanded new territory for space and resources, nearing ever so closer to human society.
Per usual actions, a population of micro-fluffies would travel outside the borders of the empire to settle new lands, where fluffy scientists, engineers, and soldiers would work together to establish a sub-colony, akin to a bustling village that eventually grows into an industrious city with the arrival of new citizens.
It just happened to be one of the rare occasions where a sub-colony was erected near a rural human town. The micro-fluffies couldn’t afford to be picky with new territory, as the supercolony’s economy was rising above its threshold.
At the time, the colony’s local government saw no problem with its precarious location, as they were situated in deep in the outskirts of nature, thinking to themselves that the humans would see no need to explore such a mundane area of the wilds.
And so, the sub-colony grew in size and productivity, developing it’s own distinct culture and values. Layers underground, there were polished spires of luxurious chambers, connected by interlinked corridors.
Trolleys and wagons rolled alongside each other on busy streets, passing by the rounded entrances of various cavities that host a myriad of businesses.
There were indoor parks of mossy fields streaked with meadows flowing under intricate bridges, illuminated by the soft glows of bioluminescent bulbs tapered to high clay-crete ceilings.
In such a tranquil setting, the inspired fluffy architects planned out structures that were meticulously decorated with detailed engravings and geometric patterns. Newcomers found themselves breathless before the fluffy-made scenery that combined both sapient creativity and the wonders of nature.
Truly, the sub-colony was a paragon of micro-fluffy progress and sophistication, an oasis of hard-earned beauty, untouched by the desolation of the surface world.
That was until the cure for the debilitating Chimeravirus was introduced, allowing the formerly dying human race to rise in number. Human society, once chained down within their city strongholds, was now able to spread out to the untouched surrounding lands.
Bulldozers and excavators arrived by the dozens, digging away chunks of earth to make way for new roads between towns. The fluffy-made fly drones, circling the empire’s borders in periodic shifts, captured the live footage of human activity creeping ever so closer to the edge of the sub-colony.
The sub-colony, now aware of the risk of discovery, made haste to evacuate its populace. Train stations were clogged with distraught fluffies, guided by overworked law enforcement.
First to go were the smarty scientists and engineers as well as their families, escorted by toughie soldiers that shielded their place in transport.
Days passed, with dozens of trains coming back and forth to relocate the populace to safer farther grounds. But the locomotives could only do so much, and time was running out.
Attempts to calm down the remaining stragglers were in vain, as the distant vibrations of human machinery quaked throughout the sub-colony.
Before the leftover fifth of the population could leave the stations, the long-standing carved tunnels and passages of the colony collapsed as enormous steel crashed into them, the human machinery eliciting the panicked screams and bloodshed of its tiny victims.
Upon seeing the specks of crimson blood and brightly colored fur staining their equipment, the human construction workers paused their work and called upon the closest micro-fluffy exterminators to remove the abhorrent pest.
Within a few short hours, Fluffy Control operatives, dressed in uniform blue, arrived to remove the micro-fluffies similar to how a landscaper prepares to remove weeds.
Through the strategic use of shovels and pitchforks, the whole first layer of the sub-colony was eventually uncovered by a widespread company of human operatives and their ModiFluffs.
Initially, the operatives were astonished when they saw the miniature city laid before their very eyes. They assumed it to be like any other feral micro-fluffy colony found near human settlements, a sprawling mess of dirt tunnels and chambers, not organized depths of spires and corridors, all enclosed within spacious shells of hardened clay that shattered beneath their prying gardening tools.
But they had a job to do, and no amount of vermin novelty was going to stop the process of extermination. They captured a handful of the peculiar micro-fluffies for further research before resuming to eradicate the rest.
It was a short futile battle for the already depleted micro-fluffy military, who barely slowed down the onslaught of ModiFluffs tearing apart ranks of toughies and their handlers pumping gaseous pesticides into the underground tunnels.
The micro-fluffy handheld weaponry, proven to be very effective against swarms of aggressive insects, was completely useless against their would-be attackers, unable to penetrate the thick fur, feathers, and scales of the ModiFluffs.
The sub-colony’s last remaining administrator resorted to a desperate forbidden measure, authorizing the use of an experimental poisonous blowgun cannon, an order that can only be given by one of the alicorn leaders.
However, due to a lack of high-ranking government and military personnel to enforce the chain of command, the administrator caved into stress and irrational thought, instructing the last remaining clueless toughie grunts to follow his whim.
A pair of toughies drove the wheeled artillery past crowds of the dead and the dying, closing the distance between them and a Fluffy Control operative stomping on the helpless citizens. They aimed at the unsuspecting man before firing the needle-sharp projectile right into his neck, injecting a fast-acting toxin into his bloodstream.
The man flinched, instinctively plucking out the poisonous dart stabbing into his throat. Glancing at the small attackers, the man crushed the toughies and their weaponry beneath his steel-toed boots. Before he could say anything, the deadly concoction had already reached his brain, causing his mouth to foam up and his skin to turn sickly pale.
Convulsing as if he was electrocuted, the man collapsed onto the ground, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, before finally succumbing, all within ten seconds.
The victim’s teammates froze in shock, giving a brief respite to the carnage. Did a micro-fluffy, a soulless artificial vermin, just happen to end the life of a human being, real flesh and blood, a man who was only doing his job to cleanse away what the world saw as a nuisance?
To lose a human life to what was considered an environmental pest incurred the wrath of the entire organization, sending numerous kill teams to wipe out the already outmatched denizens. Trucks arrived by the hour, dropping off more Fluffy Control operatives and their Modifluffs to assist in the massacre.
Snake-like ModiFluffs slithered into the vast city tunnels of the colony, flushing out the hapless residents with brutal efficiency, sinking their fangs into any meager resistance. Avian and canine ModiFluffs picked off the surprisingly agile stragglers, crushing the unexpectedly chewy bodies between their beaks and jaws.
All was not lost for the sub-colony, for a few survivors had taken refuge far deeper beneath the surface layers of their city, hidden away in emergency bunkers safe from the carnivorous ModiFluffs and their handlers.
Fluffy Control agents scoured the whole surface layer of the sub-colony, intrigued by the sophisticated structures that the micro-fluffies had seemingly constructed. The organization quarantined the small city for further research by its fluffy-centric scientists.
The micro-fluffies residing in the bunkers contacted their mainland brethren, informing them of the terrible atrocity that had taken place. The survivors would be confined to their deeply buried shelters until the humans were satisfied with their thorough examination. For the first time, the humans made contact with the evolved micro-fluffies, and it ended in bloodshed.
Silence.
Caused by shock.
Replaced with fear.
Followed by anger.
The moment the news had reached them, the golden-alicorn high command scrambled together to galvanize the supercolony, enacting carefully planned contingencies and nationwide protocols, preparing to face a war that would determine the fate between creator and creation.
No doubt the humans will dig deeper into the origins behind the now-devasted sub-colony, and eventually uncover the full extent of the miniature empire.
Peaflower took a deep breath and exhaled. His worst nightmare had become reality, everything he stood for was at stake. He pledged his life to ensure the survival of the supercolony empire.
He looked at the hoof-drawn sketch of his family, made by his only daughter, Autumn. Nostalgic memories eased his mind, only for his heart to harden with resolve.
By the Greater Herd, the micro-fluffies will not die without a fight.