Board Thread:Art, Stories and Songs/@comment-25588272-20150514190800

It's at times when no one is online, that I get a chance to think. Think about things that happen...

...Or things that already happened.

When I think of things that already happened, I think of the past. My past, specifically, and how it all happened. And so, I had one of my variants write a book, called "The Road to Paxadora".

Everyone got their chocolate milk? Good. (Animatronic Factory inside-joke)

.*The First opens the book, and starts reading the Paxadoran text.*

It started when I was born, in 1800 AD. Earth. I was born a healthy baby human. However, no one there knew at the time that I wasn't human. Not even me.

Then, when I was about 9 years old, I became sick. My parents did not know what was wrong with me, and the symptoms were misleading. So, I was rushed to the hospital. I was obviously dying, but the doctors and nurses could not find anything wrong with me. After trying for so long, they gave up. But do I blame them? No. They did everything they could, but they couldn't find what was wrong with me. Everything was just... slowing down. No apparent cause, and no signs of stopping. I was left in my death bed, not to see the next day. Then, I learned how to do something that saved my life.

I split.

Then, I no longer felt like I was going to die. Splitting relieved a bit of the disorder. I looked at what had come out of me. It looked like an 8-bit character from an Atari 2600 system. Due to its erratic behavior, I named it "Krazy". I wasn't a very good speller back then.

I had my name changed to "The Krazy Stew", a name that when translated directly from Paxadoran reads "Ruler of Krazys", and split some more. With each split, the disorder was relieved more. By the time I had 54 alternate splits, which I dubbed "Variants", I felt as if I had never became sick in the first place.

Of course, not all of my variants could stay at home with me, so I had to move out. But no matter where we went, there wasn't enough room for all of us. So, at the cost of my right leg, I created the planet now known as Paxadora.

My variants took care of me while I had one leg. They had to carry me all the way to the new planet. Eventually, I got a prosthetic leg, which was even later replaced by the animatronic leg I have now. I still have the prosthetic in case something... goes wrong. They haven't yet, though, so that's good.

But anyways, I didn't know that by splitting, some excess matter was released in the form of a shadowy blob. And by splitting so much, I have created enough blobs to form an entirely new Variant. However, as cliches dictate, a figure made of shadows has a dark nature. The shadow, one day, approached me, and wanted to fight me. I declined, and walked away... a big mistake. The shadow proceeded to kill one of my variants, knowing that was how it could get to me: in a moment of weakness.

To prevent any more deaths, I opened portals; one for each Variant, leading to a different universe. The Shadow followed one of them, but it was successfully defeated in battle. Since the Shadow is a part of the Variants, however, killing it would kill off every variant at once... I couldn't handle a change that sudden. I'd probably die within a few hours. I named the shadow "Shadow Krazy" so none of my variants would try to kill him. Instead, upon defeat, the Shadow is sent to a different universe.

Meanwhile, the hospital had been examining my DNA. They have used genetic research to grow more Paxadorans. While this was nice, it also was uneeded. I asked them to limit the amount of Paxadorans that were grown, and they obligued. When other Paxadorans referred to me, they used the nickname "The First", a name which I keep to this day.

However, from all this, there was one portal left untouched...

...the one to the FNaF Universe.

.*The First closes the book.*

Well, I guess that's enough for now... Unless you want me to do more. In that case, I'd gladly tell more. But for now, I will see you all later! 