Warning: spoilers for the Light and Darkness Saga.
You’re a toughy, living in a herd in a beautiful fowest.
You’re not a very happy toughy.
Your mummah and daddeh went forever sleepies not long after you and your bwuddahs and sissies stopped drinking milkies.
Your bwuddahs and sissies were mean to you, because they have pretty colors, and you’re the only brown fluffy in the wittew.
Some of the big fluffies wondered if you were really their bwuddah.
And when you became a big fluffy, things just got worse.
Your bwuddahs and sissies all found special friends, and had babbehs of their own.
But none of the mares in the herd want anything to do with you. They say you’re too ugly.
Right to your face.
You don’t get the best nummies, and sometimes you’re lucky if you get nummies at all.
Then there was an incident, and one of your bwuddahs threw you under the metal munstah, letting you take the blame for his actions.
It wasn’t pretty. The smarty was furious, and didn’t even give you a chance to protest your innocence.
The smarty told you that you would be punished. You were going to be a toughy, and you’d be protecting the nestie during the dark time, the worst time to be a toughy.
“It am dat, ow num poopies. Wunna da poopie fwuffies jus went foweba sweepies wast bwite time, dewe am a pwace fwee…”
So you quickly folded, and accepted your new spot on the night watch.
Even though you did nothing wrong. Even though it should be your bwuddah doing this.
It doesn’t really matter if a munstah nums you, right?
You’re just an ugly brown fluffy who nobody loves.
Like if a poopie had weggies.
As you’re waddling around the area outside the nestie, your see-places darting around, wondering when a munstah is going to jump out of the darkies and num you, you hear something.
It sounds like a hoomin’s coming.
You stop walking, gazing intently in the direction you hear the hoomin.
“Ah… yes, there’s another lost soul here. Someone in desperate need of help…”
It sounds like a mistah. Deep. Calm. And there’s something odd about his voice. He sounds different from the hoomins you’ve seen.
The hoomin arrives. Sure enough, it’s a mistah, but he dresses like a wady. He’s wearing all white, and his nu-fluff on his head and face are both white too. And very long. His see-places are grey.
He looks down at you and smiles.
“And there you are.”
You glare at him.
“Hu am yu?”
He keeps smiling at you.
“Think of me as a friend. As a shining light in the darkness.”
Then he gives you a sad look.
“Poor thing. All alone on such a horrible night.”
Darn. You were sort of hoping that he was the kind of hoomin who likes giving fluffies forever sleepies, so he would put you out of your misery.
Apparently, when you’re doing sleepies, you say “wan die” over and over again. It scares the rest of the herd, so you don’t even get to sleep in the fluffpile anymore.
You shrug.
“Tuffie am awways awone. Tuffie am yoost tu it.”
The mistah chuckles.
“Well, I have good news for you. I’m here to help you, you, out of all the fluffies in your herd.”
“Weawwy? But wai tuffie?”
“Because you’re the one who needs help the most.”
“Su how am mistah gunna hewp tuffie?”
Another chuckle.
“I’ll take away all of your woes. All of your sadness. I’ll make you happy, and you’ll never be alone again. You’ll know nothing but peace. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”
It does.
In fact, it sounds too good to be true.
One time, one of the mares offered you special huggies.
You were eager to accept, so she lead you away from the nestie, so the two of you could have some privacy.
Only to find all of her bwuddahs waiting for you, and they all made poopies on you.
Including the mare.
And then they all laughed.
This feels like that. You’re just wondering when the poopies are coming.
“Su whewe am da poopies, mistah?”
He looks confused.
“I beg your pardon?”
You roll your see-places.
“Nuffin dat gud eba happun tu tuffie. Tuffie fink dat tuffie am finawwy gunna hab speciaw fwend, an den tuffie git nuffin but poopies. Yu git wut tuffie meen?”
He nods.
“I think I do. You’re worried that there’s a catch. I can assure you, brave soldier, that there is no catch. All you have to do… is look into my eyes. You’ll understand everything.”
Look into his see-places?
Well, alright.
What have you really got to lose, here?
So you look up, which is tricky, because he’s tall.
He kneels down.
“Perhaps this will help.”
“Fanks.”
You look him in the see-places, brown into grey.
Nothing happens.
“Su nao wut?”
He chuckles a third time, still looking into your see-places.
"Now, dear fluffy… you will see the Light."
His see-places start glowing pure white.
And now you discover that you can’t look away. Everything is turning white.
Wait, why would you look away?
You feel so…
So happy now!
You’ve never felt this happy in your life!
You didn’t even know it was possible to be this happy!
You never want it to end!
You feel so happy, in fact…
That you don’t even need to think anym
The old man, his eyes going back to grey, stands up straight, looking down at the brown toughy.
His eyes are now glowing pure white, and he has an utterly delirious grin on his face.
He did have something to lose.
His free will.
But why would he worry about a trifling matter like that?
He won’t worry about anything, now.
The old man chuckles a fourth time.
“Another soul has seen the Light. Welcome to the Peacemakers, dear fluffy. Doesn’t it feel good to be part of something greater than yourself?”
The toughy nods in a rather mechanical manner.
The old man turns to leave, the toughy obediently following him.
“This is the path to the future, you know. The future. Because there’s only two paths leading forward. One leads to… darkness, and the other leads to light. To me. And I simply will not allow the darkness to win. When my work is done, fluffies will no longer have to fear nights like this, for there will be no nights. There will be no darkness. There will be only light, and peace.”
He’s not really talking to the toughy.
He just likes to hear himself talk.
“Korkea thinks he can stop me. But he doesn’t realize that I’m inevitable. I’ve bested him in many worlds. I’ll best him in this world, too. I’ll best him, and his psychotic twin.”
The old man and the toughy keep walking.
“And I’ll best the Devourer. I won’t allow the cosmos to fall into eternal darkness. I will break the stalemate and win this war once and for all. So that the Light of Peace may shine upon all. I’m doing this for the good of the cosmos. Why doesn’t Korkea see that?”
The toughy doesn’t reply. He’s too happy to really pay attention.
Too happy to notice that he is no longer in control of his own body.
He saw the Light. And it blinded him.
The duo stops walking, and the old man looks around.
“No witnesses. Good. There’s too many people looking for me. But they will find me only when I say so.”
He looks down at the toughy.
“We’ll get you settled in quickly. You’re not the first fluffy to see the Light. We’ve got our own little herd. It’s the most orderly herd there is, with the purity of an ant colony, and the beauty of a flawless pearl. You’ll love it there.”
FLASH
The old man and the toughy vanish in a flash of light.