Disclaimer: This is a work of amateur fiction. All trademarks and copyrighted material are the property of their respective holders, including the Roald Dahl estate and Warner Bros. Pictures. The usage of copyrighted material, along with the publication/distribution of this related work, is strictly non-commercial and is not intended to challenge any existing copyright.

Author's Note: This is the second volume of the Wonka Chronicles, to follow The Truth Behind the Tour and The Great Glass Catastrophe. Thanks to all our readers out there for deigning to grace our humble stories with their viewage. Please, enjoy and comment at your leisure.


Bright sunlight passed through the polarized window that stripped it of its deadly properties. Its rays, unhindered by the pollutants of the earth's atmosphere, illuminated the room so that it was almost too bright to see. In this chamber of white was a bed, and in this bed lay the dying Willy Wonka. A single Oompa-loompa stayed by the side of the bed, sadly observing the deteriorating health of his Fuhrer, and wishing that he'd had the foresight to have brought a bottle of Wonka-Vite with him. The emergency flight from the factory had been initiated so quickly, that most of the candy stores had been left behind...including the very element that could save the Fuhrer, who was steadily losing strength through a genetic disease that he'd struggled to keep secret...until now. But returning to the factory was no option; all traces of Wonka's Antarctic base were gone now, having been totally annihilated by Chadworth's nuke. So now, the Oompa-loompas could only watch helplessly as Wonka's life slowly drained from him. The Loompa that was attending him now bowed his head in capitulation.

The Fuhrer might not make it. But what will we do when… he couldn't bear to finish the thought. Without their leader, he knew, the Oompa-loompas, the factory, the orbital facility would have no purpose. So who would lead them if...the sound of rustling fabric made him turn, and in the brightness, he saw Wonka sit up weakly and beckon for him to come closer. The Loompa moved quickly, straining to hear what his leader was saying.

"Take this," Wonka rasped, withdrawing a vial from within his cloak. The Loompa willingly received the bottle, which was clear like crystal, and held a dark liquid within it. Wonka was breathing heavily now, every breath coming as a gasp. The Loompa, noticing this, urgently reached for the emergency button that would alert the nurse. But Wonka stopped him, taking the Loompa's tiny hand in his own.

"It's too late for me, my little friend. But that vial…contains the blueprint for your…new…leader…" His ragged breath came to a halt, and he fell back against his pillow, the sun shining upon his still, and peaceful face. For a few moments, the Oompa-loompa stood still, as if unable to comprehend the fact that his employer and master had just died. He stared at the vial in his hand, confused as to what Wonka had meant. For a while, he just remained in position by the side of the bed, observing the Earth as it passed beneath them. Continents drifted thousands of kilometers below as the station orbited the globe, clouds swirling above them. Suddenly, a thought came to him, and his heart skipped a beat as he realized what Wonka had asked of him. Still clutching the vial, He cast one last glance at Wonka. The fact that so great a leader could have met his end in so petty a way bothered him greatly.

But we must press on, he thought. With a heavy heart, he left the room, unsure of how to tell the attendants that their grand commander was dead. But, holding on to the hope that he was doing the right thing, he adjourned directly to the cloning chamber without bothering to alert them. Once there, he inserted the vial's contents into the computer's dialysis component, where the substance was analyzed. As he gazed at the screen, his hope began to grow. The vial, it seemed, had contained a strain of DNA that very closely matched Wonka's; it appeared that slight modifications had been made to the strand, including the splicing of another person's DNA, and the Oompa-loompa assumed that the change had been intentional. Though he didn't yet know it, he was looking at the genetically engineered combination of Wonka's and Charlie Bucket's DNA. Of course, the majority of the traits belonged to Wonka, but at least, in some small way, Charlie Bucket would survive to become the heir of Wonka's assets. The Oompa-loompa glanced down at the controls before him, excitement driving him onward. He pressed a button, and the cloning machine before him began to stir, whirring and bubbling as it processed the DNA, and began to create the first human clone. The Oompa-loompa watched in awe as the cloning vat frothed and roiled with fluid; he knew that behind the curtain of bubbles, microscopic biological nanodes were piecing together a mass of living tissue. This procedure usually took three hours to create an average Oompa-loompa; seven to create a specially enhanced one. But a human…it was uncharted territory, and the Oompa-loompa didn't even know if it was going to work. But his loyalty prevailed, and he waited in the chamber for what seemed like eons, listening to nothing but the churning and buzzing of the machines.

A loud gurgling woke him, and he realized with shame that he had fallen asleep while waiting for the machine to complete its work. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he turned toward the source of the sound… to see the activated vat draining of liquid and frilling with steam. He observed in awe, wondering what was going to happen next. Suddenly, a panel of the vat's glass slid open, allowing some of the steam to escape and drift about the chamber. The Ooompa-loompa held his breath, and was about to move forward to peer into the container, when something stepped out of the mist. The Loompa gasped, not believing his eyes. Though he was naked and dripping wet, Wonka stood, grinning brightly and very much alive.

"But… it can't be… the Oompa-loompa stuttered. The man looked down at the Loompa, still smiling. It was Wonka, or at least looked like Wonka and shared nearly the same DNA as he had...recognizing the genetic code, the computer had even inserted all the memories that the previous Wonka had held into the clone's neural circuits. Despite these similarities, this man's mind was different; the spirit that had been Willy Wonka's would never return, not even to his clone.

Even though he Oompa-loompa realized this, he still found it somewhat appalling to be looking at the image of his former leader, and it took him several moments to restrain his bewilderment. He cleared his throat, more from nervousness than to get the man's attention, and spoke.

"I assume you are Willy Wonka?"

The man frowned slightly. "No; Willy Wonka was my… father. I am Charlie... Charlie Wonka."

The Oompa-loompa bowed respectfully, understanding now what the former Wonka had intended.

"Of course, Mr. Wonka. But allow me to fetch you some clothes; you must feel chilly." The new Wonka glanced down at himself, unconcerned by his exposed appearance.

"Very well. But do please remember to address me as Fuhrer; after all, I am your leader." The Loompa nodded.

"Certainly, my Fuhrer. He smiled to himself as he turned to complete his first task under the new commander. The reign of Wonka is far from over.