"The Silence of the Fluffies" by NobodyAtAll

Warning: spoilers for the Resurrection of Dehak Saga.

Look at this saferoom.

It’s a lot like pretty much any saferoom. Toys, a bed, food and water bowls, and a litterbox. The litterbox is as immaculate as fresh snow. This room’s got the works.

But there’s something unusual about this saferoom:

The lighting.

The entire saferoom is bathed in golden light, coming from a circular lamp set into the ceiling, several cameras also on the ceiling.

And that’s not the only unusual thing about this saferoom.

The second unusual thing is the complete lack of windows, or even a door. There’s a vent, though, close to the ceiling, where a fluffy can’t reach it.

And then there’s the third unusual thing.

The occupant.

An alicorn stallion, currently curled up on the bed, an utterly bored look on his face, the toys gathering dust.

He’s got dark indigo fluff, a black mane and tail…

And pure red eyes.

Along with a gold bracelet on his front right leg.


A man and another fluffy appear in the saferoom, and the occupant turns to them, speaking up in a deep, raspy voice.

“Oh. It’s you. Come to torment me some more, Korkea?”

Calvin Korkea smirks audaciously at the alicorn.

Torment? We’re just here to have another nice chat, Umbra.”

Marley smirks too.

“Weave-in yu aww awone, nao dat wud be tow-ment. Fwuffies am awways happeh-uw wen dey haf come-pah-nee.”

Umbra sneers at Marley.

“Speak for yourself. I’m not lonely, I’m just very bored. You couldn’t give me something to read, could you? I’m not even talking about magical tomes, an airport novel would suffice.”

Calvin smirks harder.

“How about Harry Potter, Umby?”

Umbra shrugs.

“…At this point, I would settle for Twilight.”

Marley giggles at Umbra.

“Wow, yu weawwy am bowed.”

Calvin gestures at the toys, including plush toys of Calvin and Marley.

“Didn’t you like the toys I picked out for you, Umbra?”

“I’m not really a toys kind of fluffy. I prefer the kind of playthings that can beg for mercy.

“Of course you do.”

Then Calvin gestures at a TV mounted on the wall, a Flufftopia Bestest TV Friend remote on the floor nearby.

“You’ve got a TV too, so if you don’t like toys, why not put a nice show on?”

Umbra scoffs.

“It only has The Fluff Network! I’d rather watch Fox News than sit through one more episode of Captain Fluffy!”

Calvin laughs mockingly.

“Umby, you really shouldn’t complain about your situation. Considering everything you’ve done, you should be grateful that your biggest problem is boredom.

Marley nods.

“Yu gut nummies, yu gut a nice beddie, an yu nu am owtside in da cowdies. Oh, an yu nu am ded.

“Yeah, you’ve got it pretty good for an arrogant shitrat.

Don’t call me a shitrat–”

“Or else what, Umby? Need I remind you that kicking you is no longer punishable by death? And we’re in an anti-magic field, so no magic for you, either. But our powers still work in an anti-magic field. Wanna see how far I can kick you? I don’t usually abide fluffy abuse, but you know that I can make an exception for you.

“Yu nu can cownt awn yu big wotten daddeh tu sabe yu.”

Umbra scowls at Marley.

“Dehak is not my owner! We were equal partners! Unlike you and your owner! All your power, and you still act like you’re dependent on him! You can turn human! You could be living your own independent life!”

“But Mawwey wan wibe wif daddeh. Cuz Mawwey wub daddeh.”

Do you? Or are you just programmed to love him?”

“Mawwey choos tu cawe, jus wike Umbwa choos tu nu cawe.”

“But you’re still a slave to the sappy, saccharine bioprogramming that compels our kind to seek out,” another sneer, “hugs and love. You’re still living up to the stereotypes. I chose to rise above that. To be more than a fuzzy, infantile, waddling sack of putrid excrement, who can’t get anything done without a big strong human helping him.”

“Su wuz Kwaus an awwa yu min-yuns jus dewe tu stan awound an wook pwetty?”

Calvin laughs again, this time more amusedly.

“You’re lucky you’re getting us instead of Klaus. Or Reggae and Mortis. They’re all still pissed at you for what you did to them. Hurting people is the only thing you’re really good at, isn’t it? You claim to be a genius, but you never did anything of value with your genius. All you did was try to get revenge and ruin people’s lives. Didn’t you ever consider using your intellect to make the world a better place?”

Umbra glares indignantly up at Calvin.

“I don’t owe anyone anything! I didn’t ask to be made, Korkea! I didn’t ask to be thrown into an incinerator! The Faucheuse brothers forced this nightmarish existence on me, and tossed me aside when I wasn’t useful to them anymore!”

Calvin shrugs, conceding the point.

“Yeah. They could have handled that better, I’ll admit. They know that, they regret how they treated you, but that doesn’t change the past. Nor does it justify you trying to kill everyone, Umbra. You could have handled it better too. So don’t try to convince me that your tragic past justifies everything you’ve done. You’re still an omnicidal cult leader and an accomplice of Dehak. On that note: still don’t want to tell us where he went?”

“Oh no. I’m not giving you the satisfaction. You’ll have to try harder than this to break me, Korkea.”

“Careful, watch what you say, I might take you up on it. Niv’s Hannibal Lecter cosplay idea has merit.”

“I wouldn’t eat your liver, Korkea. I have a vague idea of what you’ve done to it. But I could go for a nice Chianti right about now. Lord knows I need a stiff drink.”

Calvin smirks again.

“How about some of Nanny’s suicider, instead? Not gonna lie, I’ve been wondering what you’re like when you’re fershnickered.

“Umbwa am pwob-ab-wee a meen dwunk, daddeh.”

“The meanest. Which is why you’re not invited to our Christmas party, Umby. Or any party we throw. We’ll get you a GAME Christmas Tinner, and you can eat it by yourself down here in the basement, like the sad sack you are.”

“Mawwey haf seen fwuffies wee-fyoos tu num doze.”

“Everyone’s gotta draw the line somewhere, Mar. We’ll get some of those depressing canned Christmas dinners for our other guests too. Maybe we’ll even get them some presents. You wanted a book, Umby? If you’re good, you’ll get a book. If you’re bad, you’ll get a book anyway, but it’ll be in braille. Good luck reading it with those marshmallow hooves.”

Umbra sighs, staring at his hooves.

“Why? Why did Hasbio have to give us hooves? Why did they have to make my species so useless? So we could be sold to children? As toys? Our entire existence is one big joke, Korkea! But I’m not laughing! The joke’s not so funny when you’re the victim! Maybe if you walked a mile in my metaphorical shoes, you’d be a bit more sympathetic!”

Calvin fiddles with his COMP, and the anti-magic field shuts off, the light in the room turning a sterile, clinical white.

Then he reaches into his bag of holding, withdrawing a mask.

A mask that looks like a fluffy’s face. White fluff, mane, and blank white eyes.

He puts it on, and in a flash of light, transforms into a fluffy.

An earthie. Brown fluff, mane and tail, the same shade as his hair, and blue eyes.

His mane is still tied back in a ponytail, and the Sword of Kings and his bag of holding have shrunk down to fluffy size.

He grins at Umbra, who has no idea what just happened.

“Cawvin haf awweady wawk-ed a miwe in Umbwa shoos. But Cawvin stiww nu fink dat am a ecks-koos.”

Plopping down on his fluffy little bum, Calvin reaches up with his front hooves, making a motion as if he is trying to pull his own face off.

In another flash of light, he’s back in human form, still sitting on the floor, holding the mask.

He gets back up, putting the mask away, and uses his COMP to turn the anti-magic field back on, the room bathed in golden light once more.

“So all three of us have something in common, Umby: we’ve all seen the world from a human’s point of view and a fluffy’s point of view.”

Marley nods again.

“But yu onwy see da wowstest pawts. Yu fink dat am aww dewe am.”

“And I get why you’re like this, Umbra. I understand why you are the way you are. I just don’t think you had to be that way. I have tragedies in my past too. But I didn’t start a cult to burn the world.”

“No, that was CQK-9891, wasn’t it? You could have been like me, Korkea.”

Could have. But I chose not to go down that road. You don’t even believe in choice, do you? Huh, Mr. The-Future-Refuses-To-Change? You don’t think that choices matter. You think that what you are now is what you always will be. Once you got the idea in your head that revenge was your purpose, that’s all you focused on. You were so obsessed with revenge that even death didn’t stop you. And now, here you are, spending your fourth chance at life stuck in a cell.”

“You can’t keep me here forever. Even if you pillow me and hook me up to life support, old age will eventually claim me. Death is only a setback to me.”

“And then what, Umby? You come back for Round Five? Is that really what you want? To keep coming back to throw down over and over again?”

Yes. I told you, Korkea. As long as you live, I’ll always find a way back. This doesn’t end until both of us are dead. Or, ideally, until just you are dead. But I’ve learned to make compromises. Dragging you down with me isn’t a bad consolation prize.”

“AND THEN WHAT?!? Will you be happy then? Because you’ll still be in Hell, or trapped inside the Devourer! Is getting revenge on me and the Faucheuse brothers really worth that? Or are you just pursuing revenge because that’s all you’ve got left? Because that’s all you know?

“You’re not about to launch into a recruitment pitch, are you?”

Calvin laughs yet again, this time mirthlessly.

You? In the ChaotiX? Pur-lease. Nah, I’m just saying that you don’t have to pursue revenge. You choose revenge, even when it fucks you over. You wanna know whose worst enemy you are, Umbra? You’re not my worst enemy. You’re not the Faucheuse family’s worst enemy. Hell, you’re not even Klaus or Reggae’s worst enemy. You’re your own worst enemy.”

“Yu du it tu yusewf, yu du, an dat am wut weawwy huwt.”

“And you won’t stop doing it to yourself. Do you enjoy this, Umbra? Do you enjoy the endless cycle of death and failure? Are you actually a sadomasochist? Or do you just feel like you’ve invested too much to give up? Are you only fighting so all the fighting you’ve done in the past wasn’t for nothing? Are you the sunk cost fallacy’s bitch?

Umbra says nothing, sullenly glaring at Calvin like a moody teenager, so Calvin continues.

“Maybe I should send Al to talk to you. Give you his perspective. He used to be evil, kinda. He was programmed to be an instrument of death, but he chose to become a defender of life. Maybe he can talk some sense into you. So are you gonna give us any useful intelligence today?”

“Get me some decent literature, and maybe I’ll consider talking. You don’t want me to die of boredom, do you?”

“…I’ll think about it. You have some things to do.”

“Yu nu can be pikee. Mawwey see dat yu gut pay-pah an cway-ons, mebbeh yu cud dwaw sumfin nice tu put awn da waww.”

Umbra forlornly looks at one corner, with several Flufftopia Bestest Crayons and a stack of paper.

“Drawing is so much easier with hands.

“Sorry not sorry, Umby, but we don’t trust you with hands. Honestly, we don’t even trust you with hooves, so, again, consider yourself lucky that you aren’t already pillowed. We’ve gotta get going, but we’ll be back. I suggest that you think about everything we’ve discussed. That’s why you don’t have a lot to do in here. And if you behave, there might be something in it for you.”

“Such as an early release? Parole, perhaps?”

“Oh no, you’re staying here for as long as we say so. But you could earn some upgrades to your, ha, quarters. We could set up a system. Earn Good Fluffy Points for good behavior, trade them in for upgrades. Like books, more TV channels, chicken tenders…”

“Yu am makin gud poopies in da wittewbox, dat am wowf a fyu points.”

Umbra turns to the litterbox.

“I miss my chambers in the Temple of Darkness. I had a wonderful squat toilet.”

“Well, save up a lot of GFP and maybe you’ll get a squat toilet. Alright, it’s…”

Calvin looks up at a clock on the wall.

“Quarter past noon. I’ll send someone to check on you again in a couple of hours, and to refill the bowls and empty the litterbox if need be. Stay out of trouble, okay?”

Umbra shrugs.

“How could I get into trouble in here?

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to find out. Try to stay on my good side, Umbra. I won’t kill you again, but you’d be surprised to learn what you can live through.”

We am howd-in aww da cawds hewe, nu yu.

“Exactly. We could go full Gitmo on you. And I don’t think that anyone, not even the staunchest hugboxers, would complain if we did. But we deigned to treat you moderately well while you’re in our custody, which is, to be frank, a lot more than you deserve. You don’t even deserve to be alive. You can at least be grateful for that, can’t you? Is this really worse than being tortured in Hell, or being in the belly of an eldritch abomination? Because here’s the truth, the raw, brutal truth: if we find a way to dispose of you permanently, and we don’t have any reasons to not do that… then that’s it for you, Umbra. No resurrections for you ever again. Go directly to nonexistence, do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars.”

Marley grins maliciously at Umbra.

“An we awweady gut wee-suns tu du dat.”

“Right now, there’s a lot of reasons to kill you, and not a lot of reasons to let you live. You’re on very thin ice. It’s in your best interests to cooperate, because that gives us more reasons to spare you. So, y’know, weigh your options, and think really carefully about which one is the best one, because it probably won’t be your first guess.”

Calvin puts two fingers to his forehead.

“See you later, Umby. Think about this. You’ve got a brain, so use it.”

“Ow du yu onwy fink yu am smawt, wike su manee udda smawties?”

“Act up, and it’s the sorry box for you. Or maybe I’ll send Slayer in for another session of playtime with you. Good talk.”

“Don’t you dare–


Calvin and Marley vanish.

There’s a teleportation whitelist.

And Umbra is definitely not on it.

When his visitors are gone, Umbra sighs, dragging himself out of bed, waddling over to the TV.

“Can’t spend all day moping in bed.”

With a soft click of the remote, the TV turns on, and Umbra spends a few moments browsing, trying to decide on a show to watch.


“Yu bettah wotch yu back wif dis gai! Dewe am a chance he am gunna bweak it!”

Umbra dismissively shrugs, plopping down on the soft floor.

“Watch this tripe… or play good fluffy for Korkea to earn brownie points. Damn, that’s a tough call.”

He sighs again.

“Either way, it’s a major blow to my pride.”


that bad, huh?

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