Manta/Mini Stories

**NOTICE**

These stories are not canonical but do give hints to either upcoming lore, backstory, or already existing lore. Read at your own risk.

**The Vision**

Manta sat dormant in his wrecked room. He didn’t know why it was destroyed. The last thing he saw was a figure walking down the steps to his lab.
Manta sat up and looked around at ripped books on the floor, and a single small note that was written in a rush. Still, the handwriting was proper. Clearly its typographer was skilled in what they had left.
Manta picked up the letter and attempted to read it in his head, but his vision became fuzzy and heard voices whispering about him. They filled his head with thoughts of regret, sadness, anger, nostalgia and pain.
He felt a stab in the chest before shooting up as the noise fizzled out. His eyesight became clear again as he came to his feet, but he struggled to comprehend what state he was in. He felt heavy.
Manta looked down at his hands and saw the slight markings in his skin. As he felt air leave his esophagus he realized something was wrong. He looked down at his feet planted firmly on the floor. He was real.
Manta looked back down at the letter and yet it too had changed. The writing was messy and colored a dark purple. It only read 3 words. “Welcome back, failure.” He folded the paper on its creases after he read the shocking message.
Something did this to him. Something malicious. He didn’t understand what kind of person would do such a horrible thing to his innocent self. He thought back through the people he knew. He could only think of so many at the moment, but he had to work with what he had.
Final? No, he would have him sentient and cared for. Phoenix? Same thing. Snowuh? Too young to know how to do such a thing. Dragon? … She couldn’t. Bronze? Maybe not, but General. General would do it if he knew how. But he doesn’t. Who knows how to do this?
Someone would need to be very involved with the IRF to have the knowledge of revival. Only, this wasn’t entirely revival. The body felt familiar, but not familiar enough. He’s seen this skin before, felt this air that he now breathes against his neck, felt this fear that he now gives off. This isn’t revival. It's a physical form giving.
Very different concepts for sure, but this craft was even more secretive. Only Cringe and Toya would do this, but neither write like that. The realization hit him like a stab in the chest. There’s only one person that was present for that event. One person that wasn’t the one who made the damn thing.
Stuck. Manta was stuck inside his own head. In his own office. Snowuh was sitting on the other side of the door keeping him inside. Manta just phased through the wall. Everything was ok. It was all just a nightmare. A terrifyingly real nightmare.

**The Lost**

*A corpse lay before their feet. A corpse of their only friend. Mai was gone. Dead. You couldn’t bring her back if you tried. They were sad.*
*Sad but confused. Why would she of all people do it to them? Why would she cause such chaos? What does she have against them? What’s her problem?*
*They looked back at their home, burning. That, too, was her doing. She’s causing so much violence and anger. What does she get out of it? Happiness?*
*A terrorist. That’s all they thought of her now. A liar and a terrorist. She said she would be a leader. She was wrong. So so wrong. If only there was some way they could get back at her.*
*There was. She had what she would call her friends. Kill them. Kill him. He’s the one. He’s the one she cares about. Get back at what she did to them. And her. Avenge Mai.*

Manta woke up. That wasn’t his dream. That was a memory of someone that was like him. Who were they talking about? Who is Mai? Who is… “She”?
Manta could feel emotions rushing through him that reminded him of something. The last time he felt “happy.” The last time something he did was of worth. Killing both of them.
When he saw his scarred face the next day, when he saw the blood dripping from his chest. Both of them deserved it. And now they’re gone.
He killed “him” already. So who was “she”? Who was close to either of them? Was it really who he thought it was? He had nothing against her but…
Yes, that’s who he saw in the dream. Her horns were prominent. Resembling a demon. Fire was everywhere. What is she going to do next?
What did Natarii do next? He’ll never know. That world is gone. Whoevers perspective he was watching is gone. Everything in what was that world is lost. At least he thought.

**The Other Side**

A haunting feeling filled Manta’s mind. It was one he was all too familiar with. The cold tendrils slid against his spine as he could hear the voice again.
There was a shock in his muscles as he crept forward against his will. He had no control over any action he was able to do. Not even think at this point.
“Go this way.” He went there. “Grab that.” He held it in his shivering hand. “Break it.” He tossed it against the floor and watched the glass shatter.
Footsteps began rushing towards his location. Cries of confusion were calling his name. The cold feeling crept off his body but he still felt freezing. Hamilton stood disturbed at the door to Manta’s lab.
“Manta, are you ok? I heard glass breaking.” Hamilton looked around the room with his mask stunting his vision.
“It’s fine, nothing important. Just… help me stand up would ya?” Hamilton rushed over and pulled him up by the arm.
“What happened here? Why did you break your own research?” Hamilton put him down on a couch by his desk and sat down beside Manta.
“Look, it’s just that something is after me. You don’t wanna learn about it, trust me.” Manta held his head in his hands as he felt a small migraine arise. “I need to lay down…”
“Good idea.” Hamilton walked over to a machine covered by a tarp and pulled it off, laying it on Manta. “Listen, you really shouldn’t work down here alone if you’re going to do dang-”
Manta cut him off before he could finish his suggestion. “I didn’t do that, alright? It was something else.” Hamilton just became more confused. “It’s just… Ugh, go ask Final or something, I can’t deal with this right now.”
Hamilton took off his mask and patted Manta’s back as he rolled over on the couch. “You got it bud. Rest well.” He stood up and walked off, trying to think of what to ask Final.
Manta lay there, less cold. Less alone. He had no way of stopping it from returning, but he had to accept that. He had to accept a lot at this point.
“Follow him.” Manta tore the blanket off his body and limped over behind Hamilton’s path, just as told. He can’t stop this.