Chapters Patrick set his coffee down, pulling out his apartment key and unlocking the door. Entering, he closed the door with his foot, and surveyed everything he owned. Almost everything, seeing as how his bike was locked up three floors below. He didn't own much. His bike, tv, iPhone and orange cat were his most valuable possessions. He sighed, putting his wallet and keys on the counter, then proceeded to wash last nights dinner remnants off of his plate. He placed the now-clean dish and utensils on a drying rack, and wiped the day's stress from his hands along with the excess water.
Setting out a bowl of dry cat food caused a blur named Gary to erupt from between the couch cushions. Patrick stroked his coat as the cat inhaled the small chunks of nutrition. As he finished, Gary looked up at his owner, then laid down and rolled three times to the right, then to the left. This always made Patrick smile. Gary always did everything in threes.
During the seven and a half minutes it took to microwave some macaroni and cheese, he attempted to clean up at least some of the stuff in the room. That was all it really was, just stuff.
The microwave gave a small 'ding', and he set the container on the table. It was still bubbling, but he didn't care.
After dinner, Patrick opened a sliding glass door, stepping out onto his small veranda. Looking between the buildings, he could just barely see the setting sun. He watched it slowly slip under the small cresting waves of the salty sound.
The honk of a car below brought him back to earth. Sighing once again, he went back inside, locking the glass door and moving the curtains across. Undressing, he prepared to go to sleep.
Laying down on the couch, Patrick pulled the comforter up to his chest. He was soon joined by Gary, who curled up at his feet. "Good night, Gary." He got a meow in response. "Yeah, meow to you too." He closed his eyes, sinking into sleep.
* * *
His dream was pretty standard, as dreams go. He was in an airplane, in a window seat. Looking out, he saw the earth far below him. He could see the entire sphere he called home. But looking again, he saw a continent he didn't recognize at all. No matter which way he turned his head, he couldn't fit it into the jigsaw of continents. But as he watched, it slowly faded away, being replaced with the northwest corner of North America. His eyes wandered around the inside of the dream-ship. When he looked back outside, three small dots were shooting through the expanse of space, aimed at earth. They split up, one heading for the northwest, one for the east coast, and one in between the other two. They got smaller and smaller, fading from view. Without warning, those three areas seemed to erupt, the first with some sort of purple checker-board pattern, the second with green fire, and the third with shining black glass. They seemed to spread like a virus, enveloping North America, South America, and then the oceans along with everything else. In under a minute, the earth was a shining, patterned fireball. Patrick shrugged. He'd dreamed weirder. The dream faded, replaced by a party. Pounding music, drink in hand, friends all around... He was quickly lost in the festivities.
* * *
Patrick groped for his alarm clock, finding it and silencing it with a slap. Rolling off the couch and annoying Gary, who was still trying to sleep, Patrick got dressed and ready for work. His job entailed delivering packages by bike. His bike was his one joy in life. The thrill of speed and ultimate maneuverability, and the skill to do it in the city. He didn't get much pay, but he managed.
He made his way to the lower garage, jumping over railing after railing in the stairwell. He made it to the bottom, opening the thick door. His bike was protected by a industrial-level lock. Pulling it from the rack, he placed his bike on the cement, mounted it, and pushed off.
The creature looked like a blend of about a dozen different animals. And it was enormous. Even high in the sky, it looked about the size of a ferry boat. It streched its limbs, lazily flapping above the city. It looked around, feigning suprise as it looked down at the urban forest. He (Patrick could just tell it was male) began laughing, slowly at first, but gradually becoming a hysterical roar. Doing a few loops, the creature began a slow decent, seeming to shrink to about human height. Still cackling, it landed about five or six blocks away from where Patrick sat. The sun, wich had set only moments ago, reversed course and began rising. In the south.
To say it took him a moment would be lying. He was stunned for a good five minutes. His body being on autopilot, it took a second for his hand to tell his arm to tell his brain to tell him that the fur the hand was petting was starting to feel like scales. As soon as Patrick understood this, he looked at Gary. Gary the iguana.
The shock of his cat (a warm blooded mammal) being replaced by a (scaly cold blooded) reptile was a bit too much for him. His head, fortunately, landed right on the unopened package. The force of his head slamming on it caused the thin paper to rip in several places, one such rip being right on the skin of his cheek. Through the tears, only blackness could be seen. But the place that touched Patrick's skin began changing. From it, what looked like the night sky began to spread across the cube. Once it covered the entire surface, the remaining paper dissolved, the mist-like particles quickly absorbed by the now green object. It began pulsing, a low hum emanating from it.
The pulsing ceased, along with the humming. There was a flash of red, and a slight pop.
Patrick's breathing had indeed stopped, along with his heartbeat. According to the general understanding of the concept, he was dead. The cube pulsed a sickly shade of yellow. The edges began wiggling, giving it the look of a solid cube of jell-o. It was no longer pulsing, just continuous yellow. A whirring began, and the cube started latching onto Patrick's skin, oozing over his face as a liquid. Once it was completely off the concrete rooftop, it stopped moving.
The gel split into five distinct patches, one to each hand and foot, and the last to the head. Once each had stopped again, the yellow was replaced by metallic grey.
The covered skin was deeply sliced in a grid pattern. The lack of bloodflow ensured a lack of bleeding, as the cuts went to the bones. Under the now-metal plates, small hooks emerged, holding each piece in place. The metal liquified once again, this time flowing into and under the many incisions. A blue bar of light swept across the cut skin from underneath, leaving behind not a single scar as it healed Patrick's flesh.
The completely dead body began breathing and heartbeating like it had never stopped. It did not move, however. The now-healed areas of skin started shifting. The veins in those areas turned fully grey, the change in color quickly spreading along each and every vein. The still unconscious body suddenly rolled over, sat in an upright position, and stood up.
Patrick's skin erupted. The grid-cut pattern once again split the skin on his hands and wrists, legs and feet, neck and face. Even though his blood was flowing, not a single drop fell from him. In fact, the cuts weren't cuts. They were panels with 'skin' covering them. They raised up, showing small pneumatic arms raising and moving them.
From between the spaces emerged metal plating. Within a few seconds, the thin plates rotated and twisted together, each clicking into place with one another, forming what appeared to be armor. The plates spread to Patrick's hands, forming ferocious claws on the left hand, while the right was riddled with dozens of shifting bands, each able to move under or over one another, and most were blinking and spinning. The center of his palm had a glowing disc on it. His feet and legs were enveloped in metal boots, forming in the same manner as his hands did. The back of his calfs was connected by a jointed piston to his knees, and to a small support behind his heels.
As the skin on Patrick's neck and head split, plates formed around his neck and shoulders, also forming support pistons. The transformation that took place on his face, however, was very, very different.
Every square inch was covered in plates so small that together, it looked like his entire face had just changed color. Each plate then flipped, creating a wave across his face. The plates on the left side retreated to the right, covering his eye, ear, and part of his mouth. The metal sprouted small colored lights in some places, while others were connected via IV-like tubes. His still-closed eye was covered by a solid blue piece.
Overall, the entire process was done in ten seconds flat.
The plates began spinning and flipping, before descending back through the skin-grid. Like before, the skin simply lowered back into position, leaving no trace of the impossibility hiding beneath it.
Patrick's body laid down on the cement.
* * *
Patrick opened his eyes. He was no longer on the rooftop, that was for sure. To him, it looked like what he expected the inside of a cloud to look like.
"TARGET ACTIVE. INQUIRY TO TARGET: ACTIVATE INTERNAL INTERFACE?" The disembodied mechanical voice came from all around him, thoroughly scaring him. 'What the hell? Am I dead? Cause if i am, heaven is pretty weird...'
"RESPOND. ACTIVATE INTERNAL INTERFACE?"
Patrick decided to lay along. "Um, yes?"
"CONFIRMED. INTERFACE REQUIRES TARGET-SET DESIGNATION. ENTER DESIGNATION."
Patrick thought about this. 'Designation? That a name, right? Ok...it wants a name for this interface, whatever it is...' He thought of all the names he liked.
"...Tom."
"CONFIRMED. INTERFACE DESIGNATION IT SET AS 'TOM'. PROCEED." A few yards in front of Patrick, the white mist began swirling around and around, compressing into a shape. A human shape.
After several seconds, a young, Caucasian male stood in front of him, dressed like a city-bred would be. Walking over to a stunned Patrick, he stuck out his hand.
"Hey! I'm Tom! Thanks for creating me!"
The look on Patrick's face was one of pure confusion.
"What?"
'Tom' shook his head and chuckled. "I really hope you were the primary target, because otherwise, the universe is screwed. And that's saying something, seeing how bad it already is..."
Patrick was still processing things. "But what do you mean 'created'? And who are you? And where the hell am I?"
"Trust me, I have answers. Just about every answer to everything." He smirked. "But first, as you decided, my name is now Tom. Thank you for a simple name. The last one was just...ugh! So thank you. Second, I am not really a person, at least not by your worlds standards. I am a consciousness, a mind stored in a device. A sentient computer."
Patrick's confusion was joined by disbelief. "Riiiight. And that kind of technology has been around for...how long?"
Tom rolled his eyes. "What, you think humans could even CONCEIVE the mere IDEA of the P.A.R.T.? Ha! Of course not!"
Patrick's mind began to work overtime. "You say 'humans' like the Doctor says 'humans' on TV. But that means..."
"Oh! The Doctor! He hasn't been heard from since the last reunion! I wonder how he's doing...anyway, yes. I am not of human origin. My proper title is Particle Acceleration Relativity Transfer unit 0048, 1° sentient cybernetic invasive failsafe response. I have been granted full control by the Guild of Keepers. The last time a unit was sent to this planet was in your B.C. Years."
".......Aliens?"
"Yes. Aliens built me." Patrick sat down. Hard.
"Ok. This is bullshit. The only explanation is that I'm dead. Great. That's just great."
Tom laughed. "Oh no, you're not dead anymore! That phase only took a minute and a half! You're just unconscious now."
"Then where the hell am I?"
"Stored in the P.A.R.T.'s dataspace. It's just standard procedure. Now, if you'll please be reasonable, I need to explain a few more things."
Patrick sighed. "Explain away, alien."
"You may have noticed some strange things recently. Things that don't make sense, impossibilities, or just general weirdness."
"Yeah.
Patrick thought for a moment.
"Yes, weird stuff has been happening. There was the chocolate milk thing, and then the hole in the sky..."
Toms face became very serious. "And your dream?"
Patrick was astounded. "How do you know about my dreams?...but I did have a strange dream...the earth was hot by three...things. They spread like a virus, covering the planet. But what does that have to do with anything?"
"It's what will happen. What will happen if nothing is done about the breach. If you don't do anything about it."
Patrick did a double-take. "Me? I hate to sound cliché, but why me?"
"It wasn't my decision! Trust me, I wouldn't pick a human for this job. But when a breach occurs, the FailSafe system checks the origin and destination, and selects the best host from the defending world for a unit based on attributes of the origin worlds occupants. Thus, I was sent through the twist, and set on standby as a package, until you fell on me and activated me! I must say, you had perfect timing."
"But what are you? And what do you mean by 'host'?"
"What am I? I cannot answer that. The universe still hasn't found a proper definition for the P.A.R.T.. But I like to think of myself as a guardian, a peacekeeper, and an enforcer. As for 'host', I mean you. You have been integrated with my systems. Your mind and thoughts will always be separate from mine, but both of our thoughts are public to each other."
"I understood about none of that, except that I'm stuck with you in my head."
Tom laughed again. "Here, watch." A transparent hologram of Patrick formed in front of him. It showed each organ, each bone, and every blood vessel. "This is you before the integration...and this is your body after." The hologram now showed all kinds of mechanisms throughout his body. One at a time, each hand and foot was enlarged, armor forming and retracting. The head and neck were enlarged, but Tom held up his hand, causing it to freeze.
"Here, I'll tell you what I'm allowed to. Watch." He poked the hologram and it began to form the grid pattern. "While inactive, the plates sit under your skin. This grid forms to let them move out. It is painless, though strange at first. Tip, don't try it in front of a mirror." Tom snorted. "It can be very disconcerting."
Patrick tried to interrupt. "But what is all this-"
"Please let me continue. If we wait too long, your mind may degrade. My systems were only designed to do this for a short while." Patrick shut up.
"Ok. The grid separates in a cycle, plating from back to front." The grid on the back of the head moved apart, quickly covered by plates. The grid swept on both sides, meeting at the front. "In this state, the plates can move any way you want, and are sufficient against most human bullets. But once you learn enough, that won't even be a problem." He jabbed the projection again. "With Basic Form 2, you have general, secondary, and auxiliary interfaces along with minimal weapons." The picture now showed Patrick's entire body, but the plates only covered hands, feet, and above the collarbone. "Leg and foot plates, along with moderately amped physicals. The same goes for the hands. But the hands have much more. The left hand houses this form's main weapons, and its strength is amped up quite a bit." The armored hand shifted, forming claws and a blue disc in the palm. The hologram showed the right hand and wrist. "The bands here are muilt-purpous, housing scanners, projectors, your average processing package. The entire right arm is a holographic interface." The bands rotated and shifted, screens and shapes now floating all around them. The picture once again showed Patrick's entire body. "This forms head section is self explanatory. Ad I can walk you through the entire process."
Patrick shook his head. "Let pretend I understand. You still haven't explained why any of this is happening!"
Tom looked straight into his eyes.
"Because Earth is under attack."
What Tom had said came as a complete surprise to Patrick.
"....Under attack? From who?"
"My best guess would be that thing that appeared in the sky. I only know what you saw, and that wasn't enough to categorize it. Once you go back, we can get a proper scan on it."
"So what does th-" Patrick was cut off by a loud beeping. The whiteness around them began to darken. Tom stomped his foot. "Dammit! I can't keep your mind in here anymore! I have to put you back. Don't worry, we'll be able to talk, just not at first. My final piece of advice: experiment. You have powers, Patrick. Find out how to use them!"
His vision fading, Patrick nodded his head before slumping to the ground.
* * *
He was laying on his back, still on the rooftop. Sitting up, Patrick rubbed his head. "What. The. Heck. Was that? Was I drugged? Am I going insane? I reall need to see a doct-". His eyes fell on the iguana at his feet. He stared at the collar around its neck.
Gary's collar.
The iguana tried to sit on it's back legs, failing due to its short forearms. Instead, it rolled three times to the left, then three to the right.
"No way. Absolutely not. My cat is not a lizard." The iguana turned its eyes to Patrick, the emotion in them clear as day. It made a squawking noise, rasping and coughing. Then it licked its front foot, cleaning and washing it.
"...Gary? Is that you?" Somehow, the cat/iguana understood, and crawled over, rubbing its back against Patrick's leg.
"Oh my god. Gary!" He reached down, grasping his pet and holding him up to his chest. The moment he touched the creature, his palm pulsed blue. Patrick's vision was suddenly crowded with shapes, words, and other miscellaneous information. He gasped, nearly dropping Gary.
"What!? What is this?" With his free hand, he moved his fingers through the floating blue shapes. They acted completely tangible, moving out of the way. Now able to see them one at a time, he began reading them.
"Vitals...age...health...species...intelligence...Is this all about Gary? Species: feline. It is about Gary! Wait..." A lone square caught his eye. "Status: red. Repair: possible. Please select Y/N. Harmonize?" Repair? After a moment, he touched the Y. Instantly, Gary began glowing. A stream of colors began flowing from Patrick's palm to the lizard. His eyes widened in shock, and he felt like he was imploding. Or throwing up. Or both at once.
The glow intensified, forming a bubble around Gary. It was so bright, Patrick had to look away. But he felt something shift in his eyes, and though the glow was still blinding, he could look right at it, pain free. His new discovery was interrupted by a loud meow. The glowing orb seemed to explode, but was then sucked into the orange cat now standing on the cement rooftop.
"Gary!" He hugged his beloved pet, once again bombarded by the blue screens. He found the one from before. It now read: "Status: blue. Functioning."
"C'mon Gary. Lets go back inside."
* * *
Once they had returned to his room, the cat leapt onto the couch, acting like he always had. Patrick cleared a portion of the floor, sitting down in it. Wondering what time it was, he looked at the wall clock. "7:30. PM."
The sun was shining right in his face. Mind spinning, Patrick pulled out his phone to check its clock. The moment it lit up, his palm pulsed green and the same little screens appeared around his head, only various shades of green. Jerking back in surprise, he blinked rapidly. Then he pinched himself. Sighing, he began reading the words scrolling around his head. He flicked one to move it out of the way. Gary leapt off the couch, attempting to capture the floating hologram.
"So you can see them too?" Gary recovered from his embarrassing crash-landing, and began to calmly clean his forelegs.
Looking back, he continued reading the screens. There, in front of him, was displayed every single scrap of information about his phone, from its case color, to the social security number of the man who picked the color to be put there. It was staggering. Patrick let go of his phone. One by one, each screen collapsed into a vertical line before fading. It was at that moment that the sun sank back below the east horizon.
The sudden darkness simply added to Patrick's confusion and frustration. His emotions took hold of him, and he turned and punched the nearest thing. That just happened to be the side of the couch.
The force of his usually average punch sent the couch the eight feet to the bookshelf. Patrick was once again stunned. He had no idea what was happening to him! He spent the next few minutes crying, both in anger and sadness.
When he had calmed back down, he thought about what he did know.
He knew something was attacking earth, and that something had changed him. If Tom was telling the truth, he would be able to speak to him soon. But how soon was soon? Tom had said the thing was inside him, under his skin. His skin looked the same to him. Felt the same, too. He searched his mind, recalling of Tom had said how to activate anything. He had mentioned something about 'basic forms', and called something 'part'. Picking up his phone and clearing the screens out of the way, he opened the browser. He searched 'basic form'. Nothing. He tried 'part'. Also nothing. He wanted to scream again.
"But what is a 'part'?" The moment he finished speaking, a large white screen appeared in front of him.
"ACTIVATE PRIMARY FUNCTION? Y/N?" He poked the Y.
He was waiting more instructions, but none came. He stood up, ready to give up, when his skin began itching. He looked at his hand.
It was opening up.
He would have screamed, but he felt no pain. As he watched, his hand formed what Tom had shown him with the hologram. His left hand now had claws, and his feet were encased in metal. His right eye was now covered by a transparent cover. Words scrolled across it.
"Basic Form 2 active."
Looking around, the things that filled his room now had small boxes of text attached to them. His clock, for example, had a green square floating next to it, while Gary had a blue one. Gary was staring at his owner like he was an alien.
Walking over to the bathroom, Patrick flipped on the light. His face was partially encased by the plates. Tom was right. It was very strange.
Tom also said to experiment.
"Put away." Nothing.
"Retract."
"Deactivate."
Nothing was working. Now he was scared he could never get rid of the plates. He pictured them going back into his skin.
That was all it took. The plates began unlocking, features disassembling and retracting. In the mirror, Patrick could see the small squares of skin extending and retracting on small arms, closing up seamlessly. It scared him. But on a theory, he pictured the plates back on himself. They emerged again, locking into place. On. Off. On. Off. It was so easy!
Thinking back, Tom had mentioned that this was Form 2. But what about Form 1?
In seconds, the plates had emerged once more, only this time covering his entire body. He wiggled his fingers. They felt no different, though perhaps a little heavier. This form responded to the same control as the other one.
Patrick looked back outside. It was daytime again.
"Ok, lets 'experiment'."
His first problem with going out in public was the information holograms. Gary saw one, so everyone must be able to see them. Until he learned to control them, Patrick would have to be careful what he touched. So far, mainly living and technological things brought them into being. Other than that, just the thought of the armor could make it activate.
He made his way down to the garage, unlocking his bike. The lock came up with screens as well, so he put it back quickly.
It turned out that the world above was not as he left it. About a third of the people were walking backwards, and the the sidewalks themselves were grass covered turf. Things were very random.
He pedaled to the coffee shop, needing to talk to Andy. He got there just before they locked up. Andy was heading out, nearly colliding with Patrick.
"Oh! Hey buddy! What's going on? Other than the weird crap everywhere..."
Could Patrick tell Andy about the P.A.R.T.?
"Andy, can I trust you with something?" Andy was caught off-guard by the request.
"Of course you can! We've been friends for years! Tell me anything!"
"You won't believe me."
"Try me."
As Patrick drew in breath to reveal his new secret, he was grabbed from behind. His mouth covered by a sweaty hand, he was yanked into a alley. It didn't take him long to realize he was being mugged. He stopped struggling. His mind was clear, unlike the last time this had happened. As he was held at gunpoint, his mind was racing, considering options. He heard Andy hit the ground next to him.
The one with the gun jabbed it against Patrick's neck. On his skin.
What he read next made him laugh.
"Wow! You scared both of us with a empty gun?" The two men stumbled back as Patrick stood up. One tried to jump onto him, but Patrick shoved him back down. "Oh, no you don't!"
What he didn't know was that there was a third man behind him. He had managed to sneak up behind Andy, and now had a knife against his throat.
"Just put your wallet on the ground, and I'll let him go!"
Patrick turned. "That's my friend. Let him go."
"Put your wallet down!"
The plates emerged, forming over his entire body. "Let. Him. Go."
The man was sprinting behind the other two. Patrick disassembled the armor, walking to Andy.
"You ok?" Andy nodded, fear on his face.
"What did you just do?"
* * *
"So I'm supposed to believe you have amazing powers that you don't know how to control, and that you're going to use them to fix the city?"
"Andy, I don't believe most of it myself. But so far everything Tom said has been-"
Andy cut him off. "Who's Tom?"
"The machine inside me."
"Yeah right! There's no way a machine could just BECOME you just like that!" He snapped his fingers for emphasis.
Patrick turned down a alley between two restaurants. He formed Basic 2.
Andy gawked. "But...that's impossible! No way! And kinda gross! Doesn't it hurt?"
Patrick shook his head. "Not a bit. It feels completely natural." He retracted the plates. Andy shuddered. "Stop doing that!"
"Watch." Patrick pulled out his phone, the screens appearing again.
"What?! How?!"
"I keep telling you, I don't know! I wish I had some help..."
'You only had to ask.' Toms voice surprised Patrick.
"Tom! Where are you?"
'In your head, silly!' Andy looked like he thought Patrick was insane. He was talking to the air for crying out loud!
"Tom, I need help! What should I do?"
'First of all, you don't need to talk. Just think. And second, get to the tallest building you can find.'
He called back to Andy as he ran out of the alley. "Got to go! Talk later!"
* * *
The fare for visiting the observation deck of the space needle was forty dollars. Patrick forked over the cash, walking around the curved hallway to the yellow elevator. Stepping inside, he took note of the three other occupants, a young couple and a older man carrying a briefcase. The operator reminded them that their ears would pop, and to enjoy their visit. The ride took a little under a minute, and upon reaching the top, the doors snapped open with a hiss. Patrick made a beeline for the balcony. He opened the glass doors, and found himself gazing down at his city.
'Hey! No time for games! Look for that thing that came out of the sky!'
Patrick scanned the streets below. The grey forest was riddled with patches of confusion.
'There! Don't move...' Patrick's vision jumped, zooming in on the building.
'Woah! Weird...'
'Hold still!...oh. I see him. Damn.'
'What? What is it?' The creature was sitting on the roof of the building, swinging his mismatched legs over the edge.
'His name is Discord. He's a draconiquis. And he most definitely should not be here. I see why this was a Directive 7.'
'Whats Directive 7? And who's Discord?' Patrick had more questions for each answer he got.
'Directive 7 means an M Class planet is threatened by a superior being or race. Discord is from the K intercept, a direct spawn of the Shadow. Being from a intercept weakens the matter around him. On top of that, his creation was an accident, random chance. It gave him the force of chaos. Those combined let him do anything he wants. He is the most second most random and chaotic being ever to exist! If he were to combine forces with the Pink One...*sigh*. Long story short, we are partially screwed.'
'Um, Tom?'
'What?'
'He's staring at me.'
'Get down! Hide!' Patrick ducked back inside, closing the door behind him.
'Tom. Time out. I need answers.' He sat down at one of the round tables, away from the windows.
'*sigh*... Alright. I may not be able to give every answer, but I can try.'
'I understand I was chosen randomly, and that earth is under attack from that thing, and that I am supposed to fight him with this device. I understand it perfectly, and I'm not completely freaking out. My mind is very clear and rational. Most people would be curled up in the corner, crying. Why am I not insane?'
'Having the P.A.R.T. has its share of benefits. Mostly little things, increased senses, longer endurance, better metabolism, stuff like that. Among these is mental strength. Back in the alley, when you were grabbed, your mind would have blanked out. The P.A.R.T. kept you thinking.'
Patrick mulled this over. 'Thats handy. What other 'perks' should I expect?'
'Hmmm...how are your reflexes?'
'Average. Why?'
'Look left.'
Patrick turned his head in time to see the man from the elevator trip, sending his briefcase flying. Automatically, Patrick put out his hand, catching not only the case, but turning it to catch the escaped papers inside. He spun, using his left hand to save the man from a close view of the floor.
"Th-thank you! That was incredible!" The man was having a hard time processing what had just happened.
"Here." Patrick held out his case.
"Oh! Thank you! I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going and tripped over that rouge chair...But that was astounding! I'd say it was impossible if I hadn't just witnessed it!"
"No problem."
"Thank you again!" The middle aged man walked on, returning to the elevator. Patrick sat back down.
'I agree. That was impossible.'
Tom chuckled inside Patrick's mind. 'It would have been, two days ago. But anyway, I presume you have more questions?'
'Yes. How do I use the P.A.R.T.?'
'Hold on, I have to tell HQ that we have finally discovered the vaguest question ever.' Toms words dripped drops of pure sarcasm. 'But really, the P.A.R.T. is different for each host. So far, the two Basics are activated by thought. But it can't be pure imagination, otherwise the other Forms could be anything... Under normal conditions, each Form activates based on need. The Guild of Keepers programmed it to be a kind of test, both of the individual, and of the planet as a whole. My advice would be to learn about what you have. But I must warn you, the power you now have is not a toy.'
Patrick was insulted. 'Of course not! You think I would abuse the P.A.R.T.?'
'Honestly, I don't know. The FailSafe wouldn't have chosen someone unstable, or one likely to become power-crazy. But even if you are the ideal host, others may disagree. Violently.'
Patrick hadn't considered this. If the government became aware of him, they had no assurance he wouldn't become corrupted. All the more reason to be careful.
'I think I understand. But how do I use the what I have now?'
'Not here. People would see you. Head back to your apartment. I'll tell you plenty then.'
* * *
Patrick locked the door behind him. Out of habit, he looked at the wall clock. 11:29. But he felt quite energetic.
'Another 'perk'.' Tom knew what he was thinking.
'Now THAT'S what I call a perk!'
Sitting on the couch, Patrick assembled the 2nd Form. 'So! Superpowers 101!'
'Very funny. Look at your right wrist. You see those holograms?' Patrick surveyed his hand.
'Yes. What do they do?'
'Well, if you took the computing power of all the computers on earth (and that includes mobile devices), and combined them, and then advanced your technology by about eight centuries, and put all of that on your wrist...'
Patrick was astounded. 'No way!' He began looking at the metal gauntlet in a whole new way. 'Inconceivable!'
'Honestly! Try it!' Patrick touched one of the floating screens. It expanded, dwarfing the others around it.
[Welcome to the Multi-Chromatic-Network! The No.1 rated browser of time and space is ready to serve!]
'No way. The universe has its own Internet?'
'Of course! And it's not just the universe! That network works anywhere, anywhen!'
Patrick pinched the screen, shrinking it back to its previous size. Looking around, he marveled over the piece of hardware now a part of his arm.
'Try holding your phone.' Tom's voice had a smirk hidden in it.
Patrick pulled his phone out, holding it in his right palm. The information screens that normally circled his head joined the ones on his arm. 'Here, try this one.' One screen enlarged. It read [technology detected. Integrate and adapt? Y/N]. Patrick selected Y. His iPhone began dissolving, the mist-like remnants flying into his palm.
Patrick was furious. 'What did you do? That phone was expensive!'
'Calm down! Look at the screens.' The info holograms were gone, being replaced with a single rectangle. This one was different from the others. It had depth, and seemed more solid than the others.
It was his phone.
He had absorbed his iPhone, and created a holographic version of it.
'Try it out!'
Patrick picked it up. It sat in his hand, completely tangible. He pushed the home button, sliding the bar across the screen. It was definitely his phone.
'But...'
'It is an exact copy of your phone, albeit improved a bit. You can put it in your pocket, throw it, stand on it, anything you want to do to it. But it won't have a scratch. And it's on the same network as you are. Plus, only you can use it. To everyone else, it's a hologram.'
Patrick smiled. He liked this. Picking up his crappy laptop, he placed it on his lap, with his hand resting on top. He touched Y. The computer dissolved, soon replaced by a transparent copy.
'Awesome.'
'I know, right?'
'But what about this?' Patrick held up his left hand, thinking the claws into existence. 'What does this hand do?'
'Light weapons.'
Now Patrick was alert. 'Weapons?'
'Yes. Your palm can emit short pulses of supercharged energy. Those are pretty standard for the UNIT handguns.'
'UNIT?'
'UNiversal Intelligence and Tactical. Space police.'
'Oh, ok. So my hand is a handgun.' He realized what he'd just thought, and facepalmed. It hurt quite a bit, considering his hands were metal. "Oww!"
* * *
Tom suggested Patrick get some sleep. Even without the need for it, Patrick's body would just give out after long enough. He climbed onto the couch, closing his eyes.
He opened them. He was back in the elevator, ascending to the top of the space needle. The doors opened, and Tom was sitting at the same table Patrick sat at before.
"Hello! Long time no see!" Patrick walked over to him, sitting down. "You're in my dream? Why am I not surprised?"
Tom chuckled. "While our thoughts are separate, we are one person. If need be, I can even control your actions!"
"Please don't. That would be...unnatural."
"Alright. But while we can talk, I have more to tell you." Toms face darkened. "It's about Discord"
"The more I know, the better!"
"He may be powerful, but there's no way he jumped the Twist alone. He had either help from this side, or he had others jump with him. Since the first is near impossible, that means he is not alone. Others came with him."
Patrick thought for a moment. "In my dream, three things fell to earth, only one landing near here."
"Exactly. At least two others came along. And I'm betting they're just as powerful, if not more."
"Great. But I need to know more about Discord. I'm supposed to fight him?"
Tom nodded. "Yes, we'll need to fight him. Unfortunately, he's the one of the most random beings alive. Here, look." Tom stood up and walked over to the windows, pointing downwards. "Your dreams are now in real time. Everything you see now is exactly what is really happening." Patrick looked down. Half the buildings now had trees growing out the sides of them. The roads were distinctly soapy, and the city hall was purple. Neon purple.
"What?"
Tom sighed. "Exactly. Chaos, at its finest. The one thing that defeated Discord in the past is unavailable, mostly due to the fact that it was magic. So we're going to have to improvise." Patrick grinned.
"Improv. One of my specialties."
Author's Note
The next chapter will not begin from Patrick's point of view. Just to let you know.
Corruption
[Several blocks south of city hall.]
"Please remain behind the line! This area is restricted!" The voice boomed from the megaphone held by the policeman. He had been repeating this for the last six hours, and even he didn't fully know what was going on. His best guess was that this was either a training exercise, or a really, really big prank. The people were packed right up against the roadblocks trying to get a glimpse of the...thing that had fallen out of the sky. Everyone was bewildered by the utter randomness that had sprouted throughout the city, but this was Seattle. Weird stuff happened. This was just a little weirder.
"You there! Stay back!" A young man had vaulted the cement roadblock, and was now facing the mass of people.
" Begin operation organized chaos!" These words must have been a code of some sort, because almost instantly, about one third of the crowd rushed the few policemen standing guard. They took them completely by surprise, quickly stampeding to the city hall. Other groups joined them, merging on from other blockades. They reached the building, marveling at the change in appearance. They were so busy looking up that they missed the small army of riot control soldiers until they slammed into them. The group began fighting back, but it quickly became clear that they were not going to win.
_____
Discord was doing a dance, far above the puny humans below. He paused when he noticed the commotion. After squinting, he realized that a group of the humans were fighting their own kind. He couldn't resist.
_____
The riot control squad was doing its job quite well. The stampede was unexpected, but that didn't stop them from holding them back. They were nearly done, when the monster soared down to the soap-covered cement.
"Oh, don't stop! Please, continue!" It leaned back onto a now-existent couch, eating from a sudden bowl of popcorn.
"Freeze! Do not move!" The squad leader trained his pistol on the creature. "State your purpose!"
It laughed. "Why, to have fun, of course!" He snapped his talons, and the gun was a candy bar. "See? Fun!"
"State your intentions now-" He was cut off by one of the civilians. "All hail the mighty King of Chaos!"
Discord turned. "Hmm? What's this?" The remaining civilians were kneeling, heads bowed to him. "For me? How nice!" He rose from his seat, striding over to the humans. Every soldier now had their gun on him, ready to fire.
"Hello. What is your name?" The human quivered slightly.
"U-um, Nigel, sir."
"Well, Nigel, what are you doing?"
"Respecting the King, sir."
Discord laughed. "So I'm your king? Sombra would beg to differ, but anyway! I accept! And as my first act as king, I make you my personal person!" With a cackle, Discord leaned down, placing a single talon on Nigel's head. He looked up and was transfixed by the hypnotizing eyes. "And your duties are to build me an army. An army of loyal minions."
Slowly, Nigel stood up. He turned around.
"You will join us. You will feel the power of Discord!"
He grabbed the nearest human, clutching his face. With a scream, he crumpled to the ground, only to rise moments later, eyes empty of emotion.
"You will join us. You will feel the power of Discord!"
Patrick woke up to screaming. Jumping up, he checked his room. All clear. The screaming was coming from outside. He opened his sliding window and looked down.
The city was in complete chaos. It was indescribable! The pure confusion, randomness, and sinister humor behind it all were horrifying.
'Tom? Any input?'
'Yes. Build No.2.' Patrick activated the second Form.
'And?'
'Jump.'
'What? No! I'll die!'
Tom huffed. 'We don't have time for this!' He took control of Patrick's body, bending his knees and vaulting over the edge.
"Ahhhhhhhh-" Patricks scream was cut short by his perfect landing. He looked around in wonder. The support pistons on his feet had descended a good fifteen feet, slowing him down until he touched the ground.
'Wha-...that was...don't ever do that again!'
Tom chuckled. 'Alright. But c'mon! We need to hurry!' Patrick began running to city hall.
The worst part was the screaming. The city he had lived his whole life in was in pain, and he had to save it.
He dashed faster than he could have normally, due to the P.A.R.T.. He launched off of a wall, effectively turning a corner.
And he saw them. His first thought was zombies. What with the fact half the city was now walking robotically, no expressions on their faces.
Tom interrupted. 'Not zombies. Just corrupted.'
'Corrupted? By what?'
'Discord.'
That made Patrick scared. He was fighting Discord, not an army of his friends! He saw a commotion near a coffee shop. A still-normal human had been found. He saw one of the 'drones' grab their face, and he heard the screaming. Now he was angry.
'Tom? Does this weapon have a nonlethal setting?'
'Yes. I'll set it now.'
'Good. Cause I don't want to kill anybody. That's not my job.'
He leapt in front of the nearest drone. He raised his hand, focusing. A short screech erupted, slamming into the human in from to him. It was blasted back, but not hurt. He spun, firing into the next drones.
_____
[news helicopter, above the city]
"I'm now seeing the city in complete chaos. We urge you to stay inside your homes! If you are still able to hear this, please, stay in your...Steve? Look! There! Go lower! Down there!" The camera panned down, zooming in on small bursts of light.
"Go lower! I don't care about the regulations! Go down to street level!" The bursts of light could now be seen coming from an individual. A young man, from the looks of it.
"I'm seeing a young man fighting back! Somehow, he's firing...something, and its working! The corrupted people are being stopped! Can we get closer?" Now at roof level, the chopper went lower, carefully, but steadily.
"He seems to be wearing some sort of metal. His hands and feet are metallic, as well as his face." The man looked up at the news chopper, smiling and waving. The anchorwoman nearly screamed.
"It's the Borg! Fly up! Fly up!"
____
[patrick]
The chopper flew back up, much faster than it had descended. He shrugged, turning to blast another drone.
'Patrick! We need to hurry!'
'Alright, alright.' He began running, hands in front. He blasted whatever was in his way.
The trip to city hall took about ten minutes. He skidded to a stop, having deactivated his armor, and turned to the monster sitting on a couch.
"Discord."
"How is it that everypony knows my name? No matter, soon every human will know our names!"
"No."
'Patrick, I need to control your body for a moment.'
'No!'
'Its imperative!,
'Alright...' His mouth began moving on its own.
"Discord!"
"We've been over this..."
"You are in direct violation of Guild by-law 144.7! As current protecter of this planet, I ask you once to stand down!"
The monsters face changed quite dramatically. "Lucky guess, human! There's no way you could really know that!"
"Oh, he's quite human."
"What?"
"But I'm not."
'Go! Go! Go!' Patrick formed No 2, he shot into Discord's face faster than he could react. The force of the blast stripped all the hair from his upper body. It grew back moments later, but orange. He bent over, panting.
"A P.A.R.T.? Celestia dammit!" The monster flapped his wings, rising up. "Alright, lets play a game!"
"No. No games. You are hurting this city."
"Aww, but I just love games! How about one lik-" Patrick had blasted him again, this time in the midsection.
"Oomph!"
Not wasting a second, Patrick looked around for anything useful. The fight earlier had left many discarded weapons. Patrick picked up an assault rifle. The usual screens activated.
'Integrate! Do it!' Toms tone was urgent. Patrick touched Yes. Instantly, the gun dissolved, forming a holographic one.
Yes.
The hologram began shifting. The barrel became shorter, while the sight dissolved completely. Small things sprouted on, things Patrick had never seen before. 'Hurry!'
He raised the gun, aiming at Discord. He saw this and simply laughed. "Oh, they already tried that! Guns don't even make a scratch!"
A final screen appeared. Patrick smiled.
"This isn't a gun." He pulled the trigger.
A single shot tore through the air. It left a multicolored trail behind as it streaked to its final destination. It struck Discord dead center, causing a ripple across his body.
"What? No! Not again!" He began solidifying, becoming colorless. "Why? Wherever I go, it's always ston-" he was cut off by the transformation reaching his mouth. When he was fully stone, he toppled over, somehow not breaking.
'That was beautiful. A+!'
'Thanks. I just feel a little tire...' Patrick collapsed to the ground. The massive usage of his powers had drained him of energy. He would sleep for a good twelve hours before he could even walk again.
'Oh, balls.'
{Authors note: for all you maximum ride fans, lab coats are whitecoats, only less evil.}
Patrick opened his eyes to a bright light. He shut them again quickly.
An excited voice rang out. "There! Did you see it? It moved!"
"Oh don't be silly! It's just your imagination." A second voice joined the first, both coming from through what must be glass.
'Patrick? Are you ok?'
'Yeah, I'm good. Where am I?'
'In some sort of government building. They took you from where you fought Discord. I couldn't see much, but I think this is a lab.'
'A lab? Great.' He sat up. The two voices gasped. Patrick could see he was in a padded room, with a window in one wall and a steel door. The two lab-coated men dashed out of view.
'So what now? I could blast these doors, and probably through that wall...'
'No! Bad idea! You don't want people to be afraid! You are trying to save them! Remember, there are at lease two others out there!'
'Oh, right. So, I cooperate?'
'Yes. Don't use your powers at all. Not yet. But your mind is on steroids, right? So you have permission to have fun.'
'Fun?...' Patrick was confused.
'Fun. They don't know anything about you. For all they know, you're an alien!'
'Ohhhhh, fun!' It was at that exact moment that the two lab-coat men returned, accompanied by several important-looking men. One pushed a button on the wall outside.
"Greetings." His tone was stiff and unsure.
"Yo." Patricks response caused a small commotion among the group. Once they had calmed down, he spoke again.
"Are you human?"
"Well, duh! What did you think I was?"
"After seeing the arial footage, we really didn't know. You're fully human?"
"Ehh, no. Not fully." More pandemonium.
"Can you explain?"
Patrick snickered. "Nope!" The mans face twisted.
"Why not?"
"Because if I did, you wouldn't believe me!"
"...Alright. May we enter?"
"Can I stop you?" In Patrick's head, Tom said 'yes'. Patrick had to keep from smiling.
The door opened slowly. The man stood outside, beckoning for Patrick to come out. He stepped outside, and was greeted by multiple gun barrels.
"Hey! What's with the guns?"
"Just a precaution. Please, follow me." He turned, leading him down a hallway. He stopped at the end, opening a door. Patrick entered, and was met this time by more lab-coats, all of them scribbling on clipboards.
"If you'll please have a seat, we'll get started." Patrick sat, and the others all looked at him expectantly.
"Please explain this." The man was pointing to a small screen, showing Patrick in the city, fighting his way through the drones.
"Explain? Are you kidding? Even if I could, I'm not supposed to!"
A voice instantly responded. "Who told you not to tell?"
"Someone a lot smarter than you." The nerd began writing this down.
Another spoke up. "In this footage, you appear to be wearing something...metallic. Where is it? You did not have it with you when you were found."
"Excuse me for wearing my skin while I'm saving the city!"
"Not your skin, the metal on your skin."
'Tom, should I?'
'No, not yet.'
'Can I tell them, but not show them?'
'Alright, but not everything.'
"Please answer the question."
"That metal is me. I wasn't wearing anything other than my clothes."
"No, that metal is not a part of you. That would be ridiculous."
"Yeah, that's what I thought at first too. X-ray me if you want, but I'm not kidding."
* * *
The doctor handed a manilla folder to the lead nerd.
"Here are the x-ray results."
"Thank you." He pulled out several transparent sheets of plastic and held them up to the light. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and looked again.
"No, that's impossible. Literally impossible. There's no way that much equipment could be built to compact into that small of a space."
Patrick laughed. "Well, physics states that fat bumble bees can't fly, but they still do!"
"But this is on a whole different level! I mean, with technology like this, you could put a full size tank in your pocket!" The man dressed like a general suddenly perked up. "Say that again?"
The man looked up from the x-rays. "This kind of tech makes nucular bombs look like pop-cap guns! A walking army inside one person!"
Patrick knew he had to stop this. "Pretty much. But even if you could get it, it would take you years to understand it!"
The general grinned. "But we DO have it! You just give it to us now, and we'll let you go!"
"Several problems with that. One, I can't just give it to you, it IS me! There is no machine! I am the machine! And second, if I gave it to you, who would stop the monsters?"
"What monsters?"
"The ones in the middle and east coast of this country."
"There's no such thing as monsters! Don't be silly!"
Tom broke in. 'You can show them now. I have a feeling we're getting out of here soon anyway.'
"Monsters are silly? Ridiculous? IMPOSSIBLE? Then go ahead and explain ME!" He activated No. 2.
The entire room backed away from him as the plates emerged and formed. One of the labcoats even ran to the hall, and judging by the sounds, threw up.
The process finished, and each and every person in the room was speechless. "I'll be going now. Don't try and stop me."
Patrick spun earthwards, tumbling head over heels.
"Tom! What the hell?"
'Hm, we seem to be falling."
"No shit! Fix it!"
Patrick flipped up, getting a good look at what he had fallen from. He would have facepalmed right then.
"How?! It's not even real!" Patrick had fallen out of a flying metal behemoth. On the side was written USS VALIENT. "It's from a TV show!"
Tom chuckled. 'Yes, a flying ship in a TV show BASED on a flying ship in real life. But we can talk about that later, after I've saved you.' Plates emerged, this time extending out to form fins. 'Ok Pat, hold on!'
He began to glide forward, turning slightly to circle around. Still a couple of miles up, it took several minutes before reaching a safe distance from the ground.
"Ok, landing."
'No...more like crashing.'
* * *
Patrick was sore from his crash.
"You did that on purpose."
'No. Yes. A little.' Tom snickered.
"Very funny."
"Freeze!" Their mental banter was interrupted by a man pointing a shotgun between Patrick's eyes.
"Woah!" Patrick's hands shot straight up. "Woah, calm down!"
"Don't move! What are you?"
"I'm a per- wait, what kind of question is that?" Both Patrick and Tom were confused by the mans strange question.
"What are you? I saw you on TV, shooting lasers and stuff! And then of fell out of the sky! You're an Alien, aren't you?" Patrick rolled his eyes.
"I am in no way an alien. I have lived on this planet my entire life, and I intend to keep it safe." The man looked relieved for a moment, before raising his shotgun again.
"But what about those lasers? And the flying?"
'Its ok Patrick. The public is aware of you, as is the government. You need the support of the people.'
"I was defending humans against Discord. As for the flying, that was because I had jumped out of a plane. I have no intention of hurting you."
The man lowered the gun. "Defending? Who's Discord?"
"I was saving the city of Seattle from an inter-dimensional being of chaos." Patrick took a moment to really realize how weird and awesome that sounded.
"...I'm just gonna go with 'bullshit'." Patrick smirked.
"Yeah...I'd say that too." With that, plates began forming full body cover. The man yelped, raising his shotgun once again.
"What the hell?"
"I know, right?" The plates began dissembling again, gone in seconds. Tom chose that moment to speak up.
'You know, I could just give him an InfoDump and speed up this whole thing.'
'Im going to assume that's self--explanatory, but hang on.' Patrick looked into the young mans eyes. "Hang on...or something."
"What? Why?" The man suddenly dropped to his knees, clutching his head. "What...you...no...but...how?"
'So he knows what happened?'
'Yes, most of it.'
'That's going to be extremely useful later.' The man got to his feet.
"I...I had no idea...you saved all those people..."
Patrick nodded. "But I'm not done yet. Apparently there are two more creatures out there, and I'm guessing there're going after big city's as well."
"And you have to stop them? By yourself?"
"We'll, I have Tom in here." The man was silent for a moment. He looked back up, his face having changed drastically.
"People saw you on TV as a monster."
Patrick nodded. "True, I will have to be careful."
"I can help. I can tell people about you, and what you need to do."
Patrick thought about it. "You know...that's a good idea!"
The man smiled. "I'll get to it! And thank you for saving us." He began a light jog to the west.
"Hey! What's your name?"
"Thomas!"
"Thanks Thomas!". Patrick smiled.
'Quite the people person, aren't you?'
'Just doin my job. Now, where the hell am I?'
Author's Note
Ok! Break times over! Back in the books! This may be a filler chapter, but its a nessacary filler. So hold on.
Discord was sick of being turned into stone. The first time was bad enough. He had been in the middle of a sentence, and he held a very dramatic pose for some 500 years. But the second time was much worse. He had managed to look scared, and his left arm had a terrible cramp! But at least his eyes were fully open. He spent the next decade gazing over the south part of the Canterlot gardens, this time in full colored animation! He was released by chance, when some grey wall-eyed mare flew straight into him. The amount of chaotic energy was simply astounding! It gave him more than enough strength to break free.
And now he was about to be imprisoned a third time! As the prismacolor beam arced through the sky he got in a comfortable position. 'Well, see you nex ti-' His witty remark was cut short by a swirl of black and green. With a pop, he found himself in what appeared to be a cave. "And I thought I was the random one! I didn't suspect a thing!"
"Well if you didn't, then those miserable ponies and their stuck-up princess are probably running in circles!" A female voice came from the shadows. "Oh! Excuse me! Where are my manners? Let me introduce king Sombra! Sommy, this is Discord." The black king stepped out of the darkness. He nodded to Discord with a grunt.
"Pleased to meet you, your kingful-ness!" Discord cackled his special cackle, the one he reserved for special occasions. "And you, mystery voice, are...?"
A shadow detached from the others. "I am hungry." Two green orbs appeared in the darkness.
"And I have a plan."
Packages and chocolate milk.
As he pedaled through the city, Patrick inhaled deeply. The smell of people, mixed with salty air filled his nostrils. He put his head down and powered on.
He arrived at work a few minutes early. As he walked in the front doors, the desk lady looked up and smiled. Patrick couldn't rember her name...Shelby? Shannon?...Shelia!
"Hey Pat. How's it going?"
"Hey. I'm good. Ready for the day."
"Alright! Head on back. We have a pretty big pile today!"
* * *
Patrick wasn't expecting a package today. He rarely ever got mail, let alone a package. But the last delivery was marked To Patrick Joshua. There was no return address, just a sticker with FS on it. As he made it back to his apartment, he made his usual stop for coffee. Some people thought it weird that he drank coffee AFTER work, but he always did. Plus, his only steady friend worked there. Andy had worked at that store since before they met, over 9 years ago. They always had a chat while Patrick drank his coffee.
"So Pat! The weirdest thing happened today! A little girl and her mother came in today, and the little girl asked for a chocolate milk. I went to fill up a cup, but every time I filled it up, it was empty! I watched the stuff pour right in, and then it was just gone! The weirdest shit I've ever seen!"
Patrick pondered this for a moment, sipping his drink. "You sure you weren't high?" Andy gave him a look.
"One time...jeez...but anyway! I even called Martha over to look, and she saw it too!"
Patrick just shook his head. "I have no idea."
* * *
He decided to have dinner on the rooftop. He did this sometimes, and when it wasn't raining (not often). Gary came up with him, enjoying the view.
Finishing his spaghetti, Pat looked out over the city. The sun was setting.
He looked to the brown package. Something about it made him uneasy. He weighed it in his hands. Pretty light for its size. As he was about to open it however, the sound of a really big zipper tore through the night. Patrick looked up.
What looked like a hole had been torn in the air. And what climbed out of that hole made absolutely no sense at all.
