The Animation Bureau

“Is the Subject in place?”

“Finally, yes. It took the little bugger all day to find out where I really am. It was fun, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not really sure this is the kind of Agent material you’re looking for in the Senior Circle. Girl could use a few more years to learn what it means to take on a TRUE villain.”

“As always, you lie. She has done better than any Agent to date, by far. And you are her final test. Remember, don’t hold back on her. Death should not in any way be avoided if she is indeed unworthy of our cause, but on the off chance she does live through it and subdue you like the few others who survived, she will make a fine addition to the team.”

“I never hold back. And I don’t like to kill my victims anyway—that’s too easy, and besides, corpses are boring. They just sit there and are…corpsy. No, I prefer to interact with my victims—fates worse than death are far more fun.”

“Do what you wish. Just don’t let us down, or it’s back to the Box.”

“Bah. Fine, you and your stupid rules. Wouldn’t it be better if they all just…blew away?”

“Yes, yes it would. What else do you think we’re working towards?”

. . .

Lauren blew a stray lock of scarlet hair out of her face, languidly lounging in the pleasant haze of the summer heat. The birds were singing, and the gentle sunlight filtered in dapple and green through the full-flowered cover of the treetops. It was calm, serene, and peaceful.

It was also driving Lauren bored out of her mind.

“When is this portal-jumper supposed to show up?” Lauren exasperated to no one in particular. “He was supposed to be here HOURS ago!”

“Where would the fun be in arriving on time?” dripped a honeyed voice from behind her, a sinisterly dark laugh underlying its playfully innocent question. “You’d be expecting that. And I, for one…”
Lauren shot around, darting her fist out, zap baton in hand, to electrify—

—Nothing. The voice had already sidled away elsewhere, toying with her.

“…Like to keep the Bureau on its toes,” the voice continued, every-other word spoken as if by a different voice. There was no rhyme or reason to its pronunciation or tone, either; Lauren could’ve been talking to a five-year old with a speech impediment or a ninety-year old with a lifetime of smoking behind him, and she’d never know the difference.

“And you never will know the difference, sweet Lauren,” the voice mocked. “A pity really, that you should be driven mad before you can even tell the McCracken boy how much you—”

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” Lauren shouted, jumping down from the tree to land almost silently despite the thick underbrush and fallen leaves of the forest floor. Down here, sunlight was a coveted and rare treasure, and…things…feasted in the darkness.

But whatever monsters waited for Lauren in this Godforsaken uncharted forest, they were the least of her worries. She had a spray can of paint thinner if push came to shove, anyway.

“Ouch, that really hurt, you know,” the voice oozed with condescension and surprised respect at the same time. “I would’ve left if you asked nicely… HUMAN.”

“Show yourself, you Animated coward!” Lauren called out into the dark and foreboding half-light of the Everfree Forest. “I haven’t got all day!”

“And I’ve got all eternity, so why should I rush? You could be dead and gone in the blink of a mismatched eye, and I would never know the difference.”

“Then perhaps I should just smoke you out?” Lauren smirked.

“What?!” the voice squeaked, suddenly jerked into an involuntary reaction. The voice’s owner, wherever they were, was speaking clearly and consistently with a single voice instead of a hundred now, recognizing the threat that all Animated beings feared. It seemed that push may have just come to shove after all. “You wouldn’t dare! That goes against every code of the Bureau—”

“But we’re not IN the Bureau, ARE we?” Lauren laughed, thoroughly enjoying the voice’s discomfort.

Silence.

Then, finally,

“It seems I have misjudged you, Lauren Faust,” the voice said at last, a smile of begrudging respect glimmering at the edges of the reply. “You’re file doesn’t cover everything, it seems.”

“So we have a portal-jumping crime AND pilfering Bureau files, do we? That’s two counts, two-hundred years in prison,” Lauren continued. “But if you’ve got all eternity to wait it out, I’m sure the Detention Center down at headquarters can think of a proper way to accommodate a sentence more suiting to your lifespan, and your nature.”

“Indeed, these files are absolutely worthless,” the voice conceded at last. And I can’t teleport out of here without you firing your precious thinner in a random direction and hope to catch invisible ol’ me, so that’s not an option either, as I’m sure you’ve already guessed.”

Actually, Lauren hadn’t, but she wasn’t about to tell…whoever it was…that.

“So it seems I must show myself.”

Lauren whirled around at the sound of snapping fingers to see the strangest creature she had ever seen—and in her line of work, that was saying something—literally step into view. Not from behind a tree, mind you, but from behind a veil of light concealing him from prying eyes and the long arm of the law—namely, her.

It was tall, long, and serpentine, not unlike the eastern dragons she had fought or worked alongside in several Animated worlds featuring a Chinese likeness, from Dragon Ball Z to Mulan. But all other resemblance to, well, ANYTHING, ended right there. The thin, undulating body was made of three differently colored sections, all with different skins or furs or scales to match. One leg was of a brown and hoofed variety, the other of a green lizard with generous raptor-like claws. For arms the thing sported a lion paw and an eagle claw, and two different horns adorned its vaguely equine face, which of course had a fang sticking down out of its upper lip as its mismatched eyes—it hadn’t lied about those—looked down on her with a mix of interest and fear.

“Nice to finally see you,” Lauren chuckled humorlessly. “Or…maybe it isn’t.”

“Well, I’ve had worse reactions, so your stoic response is actually a bit of a breather,” the creature said, equally humorlessly. “I, for one, find it quite enjoyable. I’m comfortable in the body I’m in…it just seems that everypony else isn’t.”

“What did you just say?” Lauren almost burst out laughing.

“I’ve had entire villages run screaming mad at the mere sight of me, and your mild look of revulsion—”

“No, not that,” Lauren cut the thing(s) off. For, with that many different body parts, how could you really tell if it was plural or singular? “Did you just say ‘every-PONY?’”

“Why yes, I did,” the chimaera laughed in turn. “In this world, which I guess you humans haven’t officially discovered yet, the dominant sentient species are small candy-colored, order-loving ponies. Quite boring given their way, really, but fun to mess with on a global, reality-bending scale.”

“Reality-bending?” Lauren gulped. It was probably just a fluke; all Animated beings bent reality as humans knew it, but that was simply because the laws of physics operating in their respective worlds allowed for things such as spontaneous regeneration after what should have been a fatal blow or hovering in place if they momentarily forgot things like gravity existed. In fact, the ‘laws’ of physics was itself a misnomer when applied to the Animated; for them, the laws were more like ‘guidelines.’ But seldom did the Animated actually reference this, as they considered it all normal. If an Animated being was actually saying they could bend reality as the laws of physics in whatever world they were in knew them, then Lauren could be in a bit of trouble.

Okay, a LOT of trouble.

“Oh, you didn’t deduce that already?” the multi-creature sneered, seeing an upper hand. “I’m kind of what the beings of this fair, dull land would call a primal force of nature. I’m chaos personified, with all the powers that name entails. Most Animated beings aren’t mind-readers, you know—really, I thought you would’ve caught on to that sooner.”

“Then I guess I should just thin you out right now, huh?” Lauren said, relishing once again the look of fear that flashed across the gray horse-face. That didn’t mean she was free of fear herself, however—far from it. When humans generally thought of chaos, they thought of either earthly anarchy or cartoon physics. This creature claimed—and given his looks, Lauren could think of no reason to dispute that claim—to be both. And if he was what Animated beings saw as chaos, then that just took it up to the next level.

Still, Lauren had a little reality-altering trick of her own, should she need to use it. And though the Agent hoped she wouldn’t, it was looking increasingly likely that she would.

“Maybe we should think this through a bit, and we might come to a mutual understanding,” the chimaera continued uneasily, eyeing the can of spray-thinner in Lauren’s tightly-clenched fist. “I am Discord, a draconequus who is as old as time itself and also just-so-happens to be the spirit of disharmony and chaos. This world that I have ‘portal-jumped’ to is known as Equestria, though that’s really only a small part of it. You, as I already know from your file and your thoughts, though I hope you’ll accept my apologies for invading your personal information, are Lauren Faust, a twenty-one year-old human Agent of the Animation Bureau from Earth, sent here to capture me for doing nothing more than trying to return home. Earth was boring anyway, and I was quite happy to leave it.”

“You’re correct on every account but one,” Lauren noted. “The Earth I know is far from boring, especially since the portals to the Animated worlds opened up. And usually, for an Animated being simply returning to their home world, I’d just forge some paperwork saying you got away from me and let you off the hook. This is an undiscovered world, after all, so noBODY would be the wiser should you slip away, even though it’s my sworn duty as an Agent of the Animation Bureau to stop all unauthorized portal travel of any kind.”

“But…?” Discord wondered.

“But it sounds like you’re a burden to this world, a criminal here as well as on Earth. And I’m not about to let an Animated world be mucked up, even by one of its own,” Lauren finished. “I’m sorry, Discord, I truly am. If you had played your cards differently, I’m sure these…Equestrian ponies…would be glad to have you back. But it sounds like you chose to be a villain a long time ago, and never looked back. I’m taking you down, whether it’s to the Maximum Security Detention Center at Animation Bureau headquarters back on Earth or in a puddle of paint-thinner, which, by the way, I’m told is an extremely painful way to die.”

“Just as I thought,” Discord sighed. “But you know, given my nature, I won’t just give up.”

“I’d be kind of disappointed if you did,” Lauren genuinely smiled at the chimaera. “As you would say, that’d take the fun out of it.”

The two stood staring at each other for a moment longer, eyes locked in a kind of grim respect for the other despite being total enemies.

Then, Discord sprang into the sky—and Lauren swiftly followed with her spring shoes. Latching onto the draconequus’ snaky tail, Lauren took out the teleport ring and jabbed it towards the creature’s wiry frame, only to have her bucked off like a rider at a rodeo at the last minute when Discord realized what the silver ring adorned with flashing lights was and displayed a momentary surge of panic-driven strength.

“Look out below!” Discord smirked as he snapped his fingers, and a flash of light lit up the forest. In place of the welcoming foliage of trees was suddenly a field of towering razor-sharp spikes, each sharper than the last.

“Reminds me a little of Mortal Kombat,” Lauren said to herself as she continued to calmly plummet to her doom. “Rolfe would’ve loved to see this.”

“Shouldn’t you be screaming or something?” Discord asked her, appearing a safe distance away and following her down. “Your jumpy-shoes won’t save you from THAT, let me tell you.”

“You’re not the only one with a few tricks,” Lauren retorted with a smile, and snapped her own fingers. A WHOOSH of gold and Lauren was suddenly upright, standing on top of a small yellow cloud with a wispy tail. “My friend Goku gave this to me on our last mission together back in his world. It’s called a nimbus cloud; he has one just like it.”

“Darn it!” Discord snapped, then bolted away through the sky, Lauren in hot pursuit. Clicking his fingers together again, Discord dashed off into a drive of dragons that hadn’t been there a split second before, and Lauren dashed in after him.

A claw swiped at Lauren, who dodged just in time to get smacked by a swinging tail and thrown into the scaly back of another dragon, who scraped the puny human off his hide with his claws and threw her up into the air. Lauren’s nimbus cloud was suffering a similar fate, being ripped apart by two other dragons like puppies tug-of-warring over a chew toy.
A blast of flame enveloped Lauren from the fanged mouths of the remaining dragons, and a muffled scream was carried away by the wind.

Discord watched the scene with utter horror.

“I didn’t even get to drive her mad!” he spat at the ground, his spittle turning into a pig that was impaled bloodily on the still-spiky ground far below. “Why do they always die before the fun REALLY begins?!”

“You really don’t know much about humans, do you Discord?”

“Lauren!” Discord swung around to swipe his own paws, claws elongated in uncharacteristic fear. “How did you—”

But Lauren wasn’t there.

“I thought you were supposed to be the spirit of disharmony and chaos, Discord?” Lauren mocked him from just out of sight. “Where’s the cotton-candy clouds? The chocolate milk rain? The wonderland checkerboards? All you’ve done so far is try to brutally murder me!”

“That’s because I’m fighting for me life here!” Discord snapped. “Celestia only ever trapped me in stone, but I’ve seen first-claw the horrors you humans perform on each other! You’re all mad, you are, and coming from me that’s saying something!”

“Then why don’t you embrace us, Discord?” Lauren taunted, still unseen, though the draconequus swiveled and turned every-which way he could, all to find nothing but empty air and dragons a ways off playing with the shredded remains of a golden cloud. “Don’t you like our brand of insanity?”

“No!” Discord shouted, enraged. “Now show yourself, human!”

“Ironic, isn’t it,” Lauren laughed. “That it’s me driving you mad here?”

Discord spun around again, only this time Lauren didn’t vanish before he got there.

Lauren was hovering right in front of him, arms crossed, eyes smiling darkly. The young woman was encased in an aura of violent energy, and her hair, once scarlet and straight and flowing over her shoulders, was now golden and swaying in the air as if underwater.

“Goku was a nice guy, and I can honestly say he’s one of my closest Animated friends,” Lauren went on. “And since I don’t have any human friends, that makes him one of my closest friends in general. You see, Goku and you are a lot alike. You’re the spirit of chaos, and he’s kind of like the spirit of fighting for a righteous cause. And friends don’t just give each other gifts. They teach each other as well. I’m not nearly as strong as he is, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t learn a thing or two from the martial arts master.”

“You can’t possibly be serious!” Discord spluttered. “Human aren’t supposed to have that kind of power! Humans are weak and small and easily manipulated—in all the time I was on Earth, I didn’t even have to hypnotize a human once! They all just did whatever I duped them into doing of their own accord!”

“Humans aren’t weak, Discord,” Lauren continued to smile. “A lot of them are just a little misguided. Humans are something to be feared, whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Why do you think it was we who made first contact with universes other than our own? Why do you think not a single world we’ve encountered so far built portals before we did? And besides, I’m not like other humans. I have even less interest in them than you do, though I doubt you’ll ever believe that. Humans hurt me, Discord. The Animated never did that to me. I am a friend to the Animated. And you, my friend, are about to see just WHY humans should be feared, ESPECIALLY me.”

Lauren’s fist darted out faster than Discord could react and caught him square on the nose, his soft flesh rebounding off of it like a bag of pea soup dropped from the top of a skyscraper. The ichor splattered all over Lauren, where it evaporated against the blaze of her raw energy.

Licking her lips to taste a few drops before they steamed away, Lauren said “Chocolate milk for blood, why am I not surprised?”

Discord, meanwhile, wailed in pain, attempting to cover up his gaping wound with his claws.

Seeing her chance, Lauren darted forward, took out the teleportation ring, and—

“NO!” Discord raged, smacking it out of Lauren’s hand with a wild fury. “I’M NOT GOING BACK!”

The ring fell towards the ground many miles below, which suddenly seemed to be closer than it had all during Lauren and Discord’s brief battle. Now, why would that be…?

Oh...

Crap.

Discord snapped his fingers again and the wound healed shut, though the draconequus looked enraged enough to actually want to kill Lauren this time.

But Lauren wasn’t there anymore, nor was she hiding just out of sight, for Discord simply followed the distant shrill screaming with his eyes until he saw the Animation Agent plummeting towards the spiky death far, far below.

And he burst out laughing.

“Why did I explain all that to him?!” Lauren cursed herself. Was it because she actually felt sympathy for the draconequus? Sure, he was evil, but he’d never actually tried to kill her directly, and—cut that out! Now was not the time to be debating the morality of an Animated scumbag. Now was the time to try and find a way to NOT die impaled like so many of Rolfe’s characters in Mortal Kombat. If only she had acted sooner! Goku had warned her about going super and how it probably wouldn’t last as long since she was a human rather than a Sayin as he was. And how it would probably drain her of so much energy that she might even…

Pass…

Out…

The world went black around Lauren as she fell to Equestria’s waiting death spikes below, Discord laughing all the while.

“What a pity,” Lauren said to herself as her eyes closed peacefully despite the doom eagerly rushing up to meet her. “Now I’ll never see Rolfe again, the lovable little nerd, and I’ll never get to tell Craig how I really feel about him…”

Lauren’s eyes closed, and she continued to plummet.

. . .