Part 1 (Completely Rewritten)
Callum sat at his desk, tapping his fingers on the desk. His lab was surprisingly empty, for his lab anyway. There were mounds of research papers everywhere and chemical vials slowly reacting with the air on some stands. Callum sighed, he spun his chair around, all out of ideas. The midnight sky outside shone with the light of a couple of fireflies, but the city at midnight was a sight to behold, row upon row of street-lamps lit the roads, burning up electricity that could be used to do anything more useful than blind everyone who wants to have a midnight stroll. He glanced at his assistant, Matthew, who was trying his best to look busy, he was scribbling something down on some paper. He was probably studying chaos, Callum didn't really care any more, as far as he knew, chaos was non-existent, just like his spirit for adventure.
A machine behind him started bleeping loudly and a large red light on it started to blink on and off, in perfect unison with the bleep. Callum really hated that machine, with a passion. Every time it detected chaos it spat out all of the paper inside it onto the floor, which then had to manually picked up and folded, the paper would then have to be fed into another machine which would slowly process the information. There was a really long process of feeding paper into machines until at the end, you had to manually type the final piece of data onto the computer, which would then proceed to tell you if there was chaos somewhere. The machine always said 'No'. Callum got up from his chair and walked over to the machine, knowing that he had to go through this tediously long process, because it was his job.
"Hey Matthew, we've got another load of paper!" Callum yelled at Matthew, which was unnecessary, seeing as Matthew was just a few feet away. Matthew almost flew over to the machine and started picking up the paper that was already sprawling itself on the floor. Callum waited for the heap of paper to be dropped into his arms, as he always did, every day, for the past six years of his life. The papers landed in Callum's arms, it felt heavier than usual, not that that bothered him, it probably just meant the computer would say something along the lines of 'yes, there is chaos. Not enough data to know where' he had gotten that message twice, and had started working on a machine to attach to the first machine to improve its readings. It didn't work. Machines that research and scan for chaos are always unstable, Callum found that out the hard way, it was a shame, he rather liked that moustache.
Callum unenthusiastically went through the process of getting the data, and then slumped in his computer chair, staring blankly at the computer screen. His computer started humming loudly as it used all its memory to start calculating. The first letter appeared on the screen, 'Y'. This interested Callum, but not enough to get him to sit up. The thing about his computer was that, when it was calculating, for some reason it tried to type the result at the same time, which didn't make an sense, it wouldn't have started typing the result unless it had finished. Callum just decided it was one of the inevitable side-effects of studying chaos. The machine hummed behind him, Callum immediately sat up and turned round. The machine had never gone off twice in one day.
Yet again Callum and Matthew went through the process, Callum being a bit more enthusiastic than usual. When they reached the computer the old process had completed, it said 'Yes' But no more information than that. Callum was finding this day more and more intriguing, He typed the new data onto the computer and executed the program, the computer didn't start humming loudly, instead, words began appearing on the screen. He was surprised by this, but more surprised by the words that appeared on the screen.
You have studied chaos, I've lived for aeons,
You've been searching your whole life for the planet with me on.
I'm the god of chaos, a being of strife,
I am what you've been looking for your entire life.
Callum stared blankly at the screen, the result was not written by his computer. He said "the message was passed through to me by someone, something". That was impossible though, no-one knew the process the machines used except him and Matthew. The poem that was on his computer was incredibly hard for him to take in, a being that can cause chaos at a whim was contacting him, and by the looks of it, taunting him. What was it trying to do, why would it send this message to him. This being was obviously intelligent enough to somehow figure out how the machines processed the information, or maybe he can alter information in this world, the computer could half detected his presence somewhere, but when it reached the computer he changed what I saw on the screen.
Callum looked out the small window in his laboratory, it was dawn already, Callum realised he had not slept in a while. Suddenly the lack of sleep hit him, now that he was not focusing so hard on the poem. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep though, he knew he had to figure out how to contact the being. It obviously could see him, as it knew he had been fascinated by chaos his whole life. Part of Callum was thoroughly excited, but that quickly died down when it realised there was nothing else that could be done. Callum suddenly had an idea, he walked to the back of his lab, where a light above him was flickering on and off, he kept forgetting to change that light-bulb. He thought of doing it now, but this was more important. His idea couldn't wait. He had to do this.
He looked at the empty skeleton of his machine in the basement. He brushed some dust off of it to reveal its name. 'The Teleporter'. Callum wasn't a very creative person, but at least the idea was original, unless you count cartoons and science fiction. Callum look at the inside of it, no wiring. He would have to work on it for several months to get it functional. He had spent years planning it, years researching all about matter and molecules. He had learned every point of science to understand the only possible way to teleport a living being from one point to another. Molecular dismantlement. All the molecules being taken apart one by one in less than a nano-second. They were then taken to a special part of the machine, where the actual teleportation happened. It took a lot of energy to even teleport one molecule, but it was still something. Callum hadn't had the chance to finish his marvellous creation. His marvellous creation, that was his, no-one else's, his. His creation. All his. Callum walked back up to the lab, Callum saw Matthew looking at him questioningly. "What!? Is there something on my face!?" Callum yelled at Matthew.
"No..." Replied Matthew.
"What is it then?" Callum yelled again.
"It's just... Your hair..." Matthew looked slightly worried.
"What about it?"
"It's a bit...grey..."
Several months passed, Callum worked alone on his machine, he trusted Matthew to check the machine every day, he did need co-ordinates for his machine, after all. Every time Callum came up to the lab, which he barely did, Matthew kept telling him his hair was getting greyer. Every time Callum gave him the same remark "So!? Science comes with downsides Matthew!" Every day Callum added wire to his machine, every day Callum tried running power through it, every day did Matthew worry more and more. Callum sat down at his computer chair after doing an all-nighter trying to finish his machine. The computer had just finished doing its calculation, "Ah, just in time..." Callum looked intently at the screen, his eagerness faded and turned into sorrow when he realised this wasn't the calculation program open, it was a text document. It read:
Callum, I'm worried for you, you don't go outside any more, you're getting more and more aggressive. I've actually started to feel fear every time you come up from the basement. I'm too afraid to stay, Callum. I'm resigning, and I might not be coming back.
Yours sincerely
Matthew
Callum stared at the screen, a solitary tear rolling down his cheek. He went to his room, next to the door to the basement. He looked at his reflection, his hair was now completely grey, he also noticed his skin was starting to lose some of it's hue. He didn't care, because of his selfishness he had lost a friend. He remembered the source of that pride and selfishness. He ran down into the basement. He looked at The Teleporter. It was almost completed, he turned to his left. On the cold, stone floor of the basement, was a double ended crowbar. It had a red handle. he reached down to pick it up, it was incredibly cold. He turned towards his creation, it was no longer his creation. It belonged to the evil in his body. The want for fame, power money, respect. It ended here. He walked slowly towards it. He raised the crowbar and brought it down upon the creation. A loud sound echoed around the basement, the sound of metal hitting metal. The sound reverberated around the room. There was a visible dent in The Teleporter. Callum kept hitting it. He hit until it was nothing but a pile of scrap, scrap and wires. He kneeled on the floor, his hand hurting from the intense vibrations that ran through the crowbar every time he hit The Teleporter. He started crying. He had lost a friend, time and money because of The Teleporter. Most importantly, he had lost himself.
Callum awoke, cold and uncomfortable on the floor of the garage. Just as he was getting up, he remembered the cause of all this strife. The reason he wanted the teleporter so badly. The being. He quickly ran to the lab the machine was beeping, he didn't care. There was another message on the screen. The being had put the message directly onto it.
There's no need to be angry, no need to be sad,
no need to cause destruction, no need to be mad.
You've probably found out, the machine wasn't built by your own accord,
I can now reveal, I am the mighty Discord.
Callum stared at the screen, angry, sad, mad and he wanted to cause destruction to this 'Discord'. The name stuck in Callum's mind, "where have I heard that before?" He remembered. It was a word. He ran to one of the many filing cabinets in his lab and pulled out a dictionary. He blew the dust off of it, at that moment wind blew through a window and the dust hit Callum in the face. After impulsively spitting the dust onto the ground, he started flipping through the dictionary, making a note not to step in his own saliva. There it was, in the dictionary. Discord - as a noun it meant 'Disagreement between people' Callum threw the book onto a nearby table. He stepped over his spit and sat down in his office chair. He had to go and find Matthew, tell him what had happened. Then maybe, just maybe, we could figure out more about this 'Discord'...
