Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

Hey, you can't rely on something so much without becoming dependent on it. And even the Mark has its flaws.

CHAPTER FIVE:
Hatemongering

It was no time before the other members of the team were infected themselves -- Helen was so filled with rage and hatred her Star Sapphire ring was useless, just nothing more than an accessory (that remained stubbornly pink). Only Faerie managed to survive infection, by flying high up. High enough to be out of reach. This revealed a limitation of the infection, but it was not a really assuring one.

Faerie pulled out her Gale Blade, with any real conviction of using it. Well, she seriously considered using it on Rotiart, the damn fool. But there was nothing she could do for them now without infecting herself in the process. She was at an emotional impasse -- she did not want to get infected, yet she did not want to abandon her team.

Then a horrid thought occurred to her once she noticed that the rate of infection had quickened. Eventually, a flier would get infected and her current advantage would not be so advantageous.

She had no choice. She knew what she had to do.

It was with a heart heavy and burdened by guilt and perceived cowardice that the faerie turned her back on the others and flew to back to RAF. Tears flew from her eyes, though she would deny this vehemently later on.

***

" . . . and . . . they were infected as well."

Faerie was on one knee, due to sheer exhaustion.

"Predominately red?" Cloak asked promptly, with the conclusion of Faerie Larka's story. "With black hightlights and accents?"

"Well . . . yeah. That was it. With opaque white, cloudy eyes."

Cloak's face revealed much -- as if it was confirmation on what he had feared.

"What?" Abby asked immediately.

"The Plague," Cloak said, more to himself that the others.

"The Black Plague?" Underseen asked, thoroughly confused. "This is nothing like that."

"Not Black Plague," Cloak said, quite seriously. "The Hate Plague. The worst plague.*"

---
* Yes, I know I'm title-dropping here.

[Underseen]

Title dropping is acceptable when it makes sense. Unlike Superman IV: Quest for Peace.

[Cloak]

Yeah . . . um, right -- here's new chapter. Sorry if there's errors . . . I'm still quite a bit tired.

CHAPTER SIX:
Interruption By Survival

"What do you mean exactly?" Gaz said, attempting to placate Laserbeak, who began to shake profoundly at the mention of the Plague.

"I've never known it to be in this realm," Cloak said, turning to the group, looking profoundly serious, worn, and worried simultaneously. "But in another universe, it was a manufactured plague."

"Manufactured?" Dino said aghast.

"Yes, manufactured." Cloak said, pressing on. "The Plague spread to both humans and Cybertronians alike --"

"ALERT!" Yarin cried from the intercom. "ALERT! Infected RAFians approa--"

Then the intercom buzzed dead silence. Yarin was infected.

"Oh, Gatebreak." Cloak muttered. "Quick! We must cordon off this --"

Too late. Absolute pandemonium ensued.

***

Malice was watching all this while lying lazily in her fully-reclined chintzy recliner.

"'Bout time!" she said, as if she were just a television viewer. "I was getting sick of exposition!"

Ravager growled lightly.

"Good idea, Ravager," she said. "I need popcorn. Pity that there aren't commercials."

***

Phoenix was infected. It seemed to take full and complete hold for a few tenuous moments. Then he burst in to flame, his body completely engulfed. When the flames subsided, it revealed Phoenix was perfectly fine and uninfected.

Demos's regenerative abilities did similar, but both Aila and Aquilai failed to regenerate. Both succumbed to the plague.

Only Richard, AniDragon, Kelly and Cloak seemed to be completely immune. This surprised Cloak a great deal, as he could (and has) felt the hellish fire of hate.

"Survivors! Withdraw! Retreat!" Richard commanded.

[redtailedsaffa]

S***'s going down...

[DinosaurNothlit]

The only thing worse than zombies.

Angry zombies.

[Cloak]

Well, I'm feeling . . . deflated and apathetic at the moment, but I will try to post a chapter. Don't be surprised if it's short.

CHAPTER SEVEN:
Backing Up A Minute . . .

"They're gone," Phoenix said, after the pushing and shoving on the other side of the five-foot thick steel door had subsided. "At least, for now."

"Such a ray of sunshine," AniDragon replied drily. "Now -- Cloak. You were cluing us in on how this Plague was destroyed in that other universe?"

"The Matrix," Cloak said, looking at his feet while leaning against a wooden table. "The Matrix of Leadership."

"Uh, care to elaborate?" Kelly prompted.

Cloaked hesitated only for a moment, before answering, "The Matrix was a Cybertronian device. It was a device of incredible power and energy, said to contain the wisdom of the Primes."

This sparked an idea in Cloak, but he hid and stifled it.

"It was destroyed in the process, though. If I remember correctly," Cloak said, standing up straighter and rubbing his chin thoughfully.

He ignored the crestfallen faces that he saw on the others' faces with difficulty. They were hoping that this information would bring salvation, but it was just a dead end.

But Cloak's mind was concocting a scenario, a possible albeit costly solution. The others . . . they would only stop him from putting this plan into action.

"So, who's behind this gigantic mess?" Demos asked rhetorically.

"Who else?" Cloak said immediately. "The plague didn't -- couldn't infect me. She must have somehow weeded Realm Walkers out of the afflicted."

"Why didn't she just isolate her own DNA?" Phoenix asked.

"Who said Realm Walkers had deoxyribonucleic acid?" Cloak countered with an arbitrary shrug of his shoulders.

After that, they lapsed into silence.

[Cloak]

Off tomorrow apparently. But, you've come here for the chapters -- *looks up and sees no replies to his previous chapter* -- I guess. Sorry, it's a bit short, damn internet strikes again.

CHAPTER EIGHT:
An Expanding Epidemic

Outside this safe little bubble, the plague was left unimpeded. And it spread.

Soon RAF and the nearby city weren't the only ones infected. Soon the entire county fell to the infection. It was a matter of time before this plague would become a national problem. Then go to an inevitable global pandemic, if not stopped.

But there was little to be done, what with the only ones to stop the plague holed up in a fortified bunker.

This plague also had a hidden effect that wasn't evident yet. It was a mandatory incubation time of a week -- but more on that later, when the time comes.

***

Malice looked thoroughly irritated, as if she was incredibly bored. Ravager mewed softly and concernedly.

"Calm yourself, Ravager," Malice said dismissively. "I just thought that this would have gone much faster. This is going too slowly. It's only the mildest form of entertainment, just slightly better than all-out tedium."

Ravager growled slightly and lowly.

"Oh, there's no need for that, Ravager," Malice said, with a dismissive flick of her wrist. Then a sinister, malevolent smile creeped onto her face. "It'll pick up when bodies start dropping."

***

Cloak started pondering this idea, the brainwave he got. It was surely worth it. There was no doubt about that. But . . . was it excessive? Unnecessary?

He had to silence these doubts and reconcile this guilt for keeping this possible solution to himself. He couldn't quite quell his qualms.

[DinosaurNothlit]

Oooh, I wonder what your plan is, Cloak?  You've certainly got me intrigued.

[redtailedsaffa]

I know, he just put it in one line and left us hanging. Very Cloak and dagger oh, God, terrible pun.

[Cloak]

Saffa -- you do know about my little sister is Dagger?

Anyway, here's a bit of a clue. . . .

CHAPTER NINE:
A Possible Solution, A Possible Sacrifice

Cloak continued to obsessively ruminate on this idea, this plan. He, with heavy sigh, quelled all doubts. There was no other way, no other alternative, to free this world of this plague. There was no choice. He could not allow this plague to continue . . . for it was his fault that it was brought about.

Had he not adopted this realm as his home, his primary residence . . . they would have never felt this plague. They would have never felt the forty or more tortures they have. It was his responsibility, his burden to bear.

Yes, he was aware it wasn't directly his fault. The actions were of Malice. Though he did not know her motivations outside of blood sport-type entertainment.

But . . . the matter at hand . . .

The Matrix of Leadership was a device of incredible energy. Cloak was a being of incredible energy, having even been born of energy (as all Realm Walker are). So, it was a natural conclusion to come to. That one sacrifice ended the Hate Plague in that realm . . . perhaps another . . . just one sacrifice . . .

The others would never allow him to go through with it. They would try to stop him from what must be done. And he, Cloak, was the only one who could do this.

But . . .

But he had to be sure he wasn't misinterpreting anything. He had to be sure.

So deep in thought and ruminations was the feline Realm Walker, he didn't realize that Phoenix was eyeing him with a scrutinizing look.

***

"Hmmm . . ." Malice said, pensively. "I wonder what's going on in that bunker?"

Ravager whimpered a little.

"Don't fret, my pet," Malice said. Then she made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "It probably not important. There is no Matrix of Leadership here. There is no possible way to cure it. It's perfectly infallible. Let's she just how far my little plague had grown . . ."

[redtailedsaffa]

Yeah, I knew. Which made the pun even worse.

[Cloak]

Ah. Well, I've come up with a new idea:

• BOOK CCIV: "Rise of the RAFians" -- A reimagining of RAF in a loose parody of "Rise of the Guardians".

Anyway, a chapter will come later.

[redtailedsaffa]

I think this would be book CCIV - I keep a record of the list and I got kinda confused when I saw this, and I checked back in the thread, and yeah, the last one was CCIII.

[Cloak]

Yeah, you're right, Saffa. Fixed it.

Got a bit confused because I had an idea before it that I vetoed because I didn't think I could stretch it into a full book. So I mixed up the numbers (which at this point, you have to admit it's a feet that this is only the second time that I have done such, the first time being offline, in my "chapter guides" that I make as I plan out future books.

I wonder . . . has anyone noticed that I'm being deliberately vague just WHERE precisely RAF is within the narrative?

CHAPTER TEN:
Pandemic Panic

It really was a wonder why this planet yet come to the attention of the Red Lanterns. Or the Sinestro Corps for that matter, with all the fear being generated by the infected.

Within moments, a quarter of the entire country were among the infected. And the entire world were now aware of this plague, via unbiased news programs.

The overzealous religious fundamentalists, like those in the homophobic Westboro Baptist Church, took advantage of the panic this Hate Plague to blame the "sinners" and other groups they choose to hate. If the Plague was not accompanied by a change in color scheme, it would be IMPOSSIBLE to tell if any members of such congression had been infected, having already been filled with such irrational and illogical hatred. Of course, they needn't have Hate Spores to pass along hatred and corrupt youth into mongering such hatred.

The religious zealots weren't the only ones getting into the blame game. The Knights were also choosing to capitalize on the fear and panic the Hate Plague generated. Only they were choosing to xenophobically blame non-Terrans for this Plague . . . but, in a way, they had it right -- if grotesquely distorted and sickenly twisted.

And every other discriminatory group -- the different racial supremacists, the different specist, the male chauvinists, the female chauvinists, etc. -- joined this bandwagon. None were making the situation any better, and yet still more of their number were infected just the same as those the vehemently profess to being "lesser".

It was just a mess. The whole world was becoming a mess.

Although . . , one could make the argument that it was always a mess. Even before Homo sapiens came 'round.

***

Raucous laughter sounded with ringing force around the room. Malice was giddy with glee. Estatic at the irony.

Ravager, however, growled perplexedly at Malice.

"Oh, don't you see, Ravager?" Malice said, wiping away a tear of unbridled joy, still wearing a broad smile. "They are near the end of the world as they know it. A utter genocide! And still they cling to their prejudices. They actually use these dire circumstances to give their nonsensical preconceptions validity! They desperately hold onto the prejudices with a grip of iron as their world falls to pieces around them!"

She let out a round of maniacal laughter.

"It is little wonder why the Hate Plague is so powerful, so virulent!"

[redtailedsaffa]

The world was always a mess. We just came and made it a bigger mess.

I wonder how we get out of this one.

I wonder . . . has anyone noticed that I'm being deliberately vague just WHERE precisely RAF is within the narrative?

"We can't tell you who we are. Or where we live. It's too dangerous, and they might find us. ... Because everyone is in really big trouble. Yeah. Even you.