THIS IS A POST-CLEAVED FANFICTION. HOWEVER, I ASK YOU KEEP AND OPEN HEART AND A THOUGHTFULL MIND.
A/N: This is the beginning of my very own fanfiction, how exciting! Now, before you read on, I have but one request. Please, please do take my writing with a grain of salt. I know my earlier works are gonna lack some quality you'd expect from say LordCornwalis or Ronald Regan, but cut me some slack, bitte?
Howdy Y'all. After witnessing the brilliance of this fandom, I thought it to be my duty to write a fiction of my own. This is my interpretation of the events following 'Cleaved'. I understand there are those who adore the ending and those who despise it. To counter this, I went ahead and made some slight adjustments to the cannon that will slowly be uncovered as the story progresses. These changes aren't too drastic, but they set the foundation for Unbroken Bonds much nicer than the original show.
I plan on devoting hundreds of thousands of words to this story, spanned over however long it may take me to write said words. So buckle up, this story is bound to knock your socks off! (Hopefully)
07/13/22 - Did some cleaning wnd polishing. Also, slight change; Marco's martial art is no longer Tang Soo Do, it's Shotokan. For all you Tang Soo Do enthusiasts, I apologize, Shotokan is just a more effective and efficient form of karate.
Anyway, enough talking, here's Wonderwall.
Unbroken Bonds
Chapter 1
Elsewhere
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The silent echo of footsteps followed the cloaked figure, sounding off in immediate succession with their careful strides. The clicks of the shoe's souls were only accompanied by the tamed whimper of nearby torches, lining the expansive hallway and illuminating every nook and cranny with a dim, yet powerful glow. The walls of the corridor were shined to perfection, glistening with the light refracted off their surfaces. The walkway was calm, not a soul stirring within its walls besides that of the masked figure.
The man strolled silently down the corridor, keeping his head bowed and face masked in respect for his superior. Despite his notoriety among his boss's army and subsequent ranks, he made sure to keep himself well-disciplined; his only purpose was to serve, not to defy. It was a precautious move for a very precautious being, something not necessarily required, but still held in high esteem.
The double doors lining the hallway's forward fall grew ever nearer, filling the shaded man with a sense of nostalgia. He had not seen his master in years, only ever meeting in the direst of circumstances. The doors were made of a stern mahogany, a rare sight in the land of ash and soot they found themselves in. There was no saved expense on their decoration either, with both doors bearing delicate engravings of a very familiar history.
The cloaked figure came to a soft stop just before the door's heel, not daring to draw any closer. He raised his right hand to the silver knocker and drew it twice, producing two metallic bangs to notify his master of his arrival. The man withdrew his arm back within his cloak and stood still before he was granted entry.
"You may enter, Toffee."
With his words, Toffee unsheathed his arm to the door's first handle and opened it with caution, happy that his entry was as silent as his arrival. He passed through the looming threshold into his master's awaiting study. The room was impressive, even for his high and refined standards. It could easily rival a ballroom, save for its dark green and ominous persona, sure to scare off the bourgeoisie of the nobility they so desperately hated.
Now within the walls of the study, Toffee continued his entry and paced forward to stand just before the great desk marking the geometric center of the room. There, just in front of him, was his infamous master, whose attention was currently held by a roaring fire that lived in the study's fireplace.
The fireplace was lined with a beautiful gray brick, which played wonders alongside the polished green marble which built the looming walls of the room. The hearth of the fireplace could easily fit half a dozen men within its domain, far larger a space than one man could ever need. But the light it gave was essential for the illumination of the room, with only a handful of torches and lamps to backfill what the fireplace could not supply.
The room he stood in was built out of black and green marble, cut in perfectly congruent bricks, and polished with vigor. The room matched the character of him and his master scarily well as if it was built just for their stay.
Toffee remained silent, knowing that in the presence of his master he was to only speak in response. He didn't mind the wait, he always favored silence over the commotion. The seated man continued to stare inquisitively into the depths of the fire before him, admiring its spontaneous nature. "Fire, what a miracle it is, isn't it. Never repeating, always random. Just the way you like it…"
Toffee dared not to respond to the jaunt, even knowing full well his master would give him leave. After a few moments of impending silence, the seated man planted his fists on his arm-rests and rose out of the chair, showing off the full extent of his height. Their race was known for their massive sizes, bearing with it unruly strength. Toffee was glad he was gifted a more lithe body, thankful it gave him the disguise of an unthreatening man.
Toffee's gaze remained aimed at the floor as the footsteps of his superior grew ever nearer. "Com'on Toffee, lighten up a bit. Off with your hood; show me your face, old friend."
"Of course, sir" Toffee responded while clutching the hem of his cloak and peeling it off and away from his head, letting the soft light paint his face with its graceful gift.
"It's so great to see you again, dear friend. It has been far, far too long." Remarked his master. His voice was soft and knowing, combating his rough and razor exterior. His master's skin was lined with points and spokes, guarding his shoulders and arms against any would-be attacker. His mouth was made full of razor-sharp teeth, all toned to a deathly edge, glistening with their enamel exterior. His skin was a melancholy green, ugly, and intimidating for those in his presence.
"As is for you, my liege." Responded Toffee, who stood still averting his eyes from his master's. "Look at me, won't you, my friend? You have done far enough to deserve the right to be my equal." Stated the man. Toffee raised his vision from the floor, gliding his sight to face his master.
"Your eyes always shake me, Toffee. Keep it up, it's good for business." Joked the man, who turned tail and slowly paced back to his seat. Toffee gave in and chuckled at the jest, now knowing full well it was what his master wanted. "My, my, my, it can talk. Well, I'll be." Touted the man, who was now seated behind his grand desk.
The desk was neatly organized with stacks of papers, organized pens, folders, and a sole lamp that illuminated its surface. "So, Toffee. I am aware you've been our guest here for a handful of months. Don't worry, you get over the scent of longing souls," The man stated, offering a light relief to Toffee. "Please, pray tell, under what means have you asked to see me today. Oh, do have a seat."
Toffee nodded and stepped forward, guiding himself into a chair opposite his superior. "I have brought great tidings today, my lord. During my brief stint on Mewni, I set in forth motion our plan for complete domination. Today, I am happy to say that we have indeed achieved our first goal. The grand Mewman empire is no more."
The seated man erupted from his seat in celebration, raising his arms high above as if praising a higher being. "That is great news, my dear Toffee. I have no doubt it proceeded outside your predictions?" Asked the man, who was still in celebrating.
"No sir, it ended in irony, just as I had said it would. The flame snuffed out by its arsonist," replied Toffee, who couldn't help but let a grin grow across his face.
"Please, do tell how they did it," Begged the man, whose attention was now caught by Toffee.
"Their soldier, Mina Loveberry. She posed a threat so dire that they had no choice other than to succumb to the looming terror that was her. It's fascinating, they lost their greatest weapon, because of their greatest warrior, for their greatest enemy; us." Toffee stated. He had begun to relax in his master's presence, only after he was given leave of course. Truth be told, his lord wouldn't strike him down or punish him in any manner, Toffee was far too an invaluable asset to lose.
"You're an artist, Toffee." The man remarked, who had calmed down from his abrupt celebration.
Toffee cringed under the words. Despite the praise he received, he had to deliver the bad news. "My lord, there was one fatal flaw in their execution. Mewni… is no longer on Mewni. During magic's reduction, it appeared a stray string bound the two worlds together, merging them despite Earth's apparent lack of perceptible difference."
The man didn't seem to react to the news, at least not with emotion. "No matter, we can still reach them. Our host has been more than generous with our allotted resources, I'm sure we could spare a ring or two."
"That isn't the only problem, my lord" Sounded Toffee, his gaze again falling to the floor. "The Mewmans' defenses have been near obliterated. However, one obstacle remains. A boy."
The room suffered an immediate tonal shift as the words left his mouth. "Boy… This couldn't mean, not the Mcki-" "No, I may assure you, this boy is of a different makeup." Swiftly stated Toffee, who made sure his master didn't fall down the rabbit hole of worry.
The man adjusted himself with the reassurance, regaining his professional attire. "Good. That is good to hear. Tell me, what threat does this boy pose for us."
" *ahem* While I was in the Butterfly wand, I learned a considerable amount about magic, knowledge I'm sure none other had been bestowed. In it, I learned an invaluable trick."
"Which is?" Prodded the man.
"I can sense the connection one has to the strings, be it open or latent. This boy, his being radiates pure cosmic magic, a level I didn't know was possible. From my experience with him, he knows nothing of it; a fact I would very much enjoy keeping constant."
There was a still silence that filled the room in the absence of Toffee's words. He watched from a close distance as his master stood bathing in the knowledge he had relayed. "Then we shall, my friend, then we shall."
The man walked away from his grand desk in the direction of a nearby whisky stand. The man opened the glass partition, which separated the world and the alcohol within, and removed a single bottle of artisanal liquor. Closing the partition, the man paced back towards the center of his expansive study, resting the bottle on the desk's surface. He then opened a nearby drawer and retrieved two glasses and a lone bottle opener.
"Here, drink." The man stated, pouring a full glass of whisky and handing it to Toffee. "A toast. For life everlasting, for our vendetta, and our soon success."
"Amen."
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It was the beginning of a long night in Virginia's National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency, and Sarah Richards knew it. Sitting at her desk, she begrudgingly began her repetitive nightly chores, having come accustomed to the lay of the land after working at the agency for nearly eight months. To say the job was underwhelming would be an understatement. She had spent years studying at top universities, all to be placed on the night shift of some mid-level department. One upside was her undoubted superiority among her colleagues, rising through the substandard ranks faster than any other could manage.
Despite her incredibly simple tasks, she found slight comfort in its repetitive nature. She would always start the night with a steaming cup of coffee, the first of many to help stave off dreariness. She'd then head to her immaculate desk, set her coffee on her singular coaster, and begin sifting through her copious amounts of awaiting emails. Requests for orbital imagery, forwards from human resources or upper management, sometimes even invites to employee gatherings courtesy of her very friendly co-workers. She would sort the emails out in order of relevance, starting with the most urgent down to the least.
Her very first assignment of the night would always be the same, a request for orbital surveillance over suburban California; and tonight was no exception. Having completed the request dozens of times, the motions had become almost engraved in her memory. Flipping open her orbital charts, she forwarded the request to the satellites cruising over mid-western America, only a handful on course towards California. Every night she would be needlessly reminded that her eyes were the only ones fit for viewing these images, something, unlike any other request.
It was obvious to her why such precautions were needed, why they wanted no ordinary red-collar worker looking at such secretive photographs. Their requested coordinates always fell in a particular town, a town America had grown excessively superstitious of. Echo Creek had been closed to the public for over a year now, no one without authorization was allowed in or out of the town's sixty-mile perimeter. Why they wanted to keep a town so uninteresting it barely showed on many maps under tight military protection was the basis of most modern conspiracy theories.
Rumors of aliens, monsters, raging storms, and extra-dimensional beings were all the rage, some even finding their way into the agency. The task was specifically delegated to her, being one of the most dedicated and trustworthy employees they had. Needless to say, she cooperated with the strict ban of opening the images around fellow employees, even if she was relentlessly teased for it. Every time the images came in, she'd quickly switch off her internet and open the images, scanning for anything in particular. Sadly, it would always be nothing more than your average Californian pueblo, indistinguishable from any other town you could find out in the west.
Just moments after forwarding the request, the topographical images from Landsat 8 poured into her receiving folder, coming in one after another at a steady pace. The satellite would take a series of photos, spanning a time frame no longer than thirty seconds as it whizzed over its target. After removing her ethernet, and double-checking for any wandering co-workers, she began sifting through the orbital images.
"Hmmm. Looks normal so far"
"..."
"..."
"Is that a gas leak? Maybe fireworks"
"..."
"..."
"WHAT THE FUCK?!"
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Hope you continue to enjoy Unbroken Bonds! God knows I will.
