Animator vs Animation: The Dark Web

Chapter 1: The Note

The Second Coming stretched his arms and clenched his fists. He was ready.

One by one, his friends dropped down from the window tabs of Alan's PC. Red landed with a playful roll, springing up to his feet, fists flying in the air with lively energy. Yellow slid from the sides of the computer, arriving with the usual calm manner. Green confidently hopped down to the floor, looking at The Second Coming as if victory was already his. Finally, Blue dropped down last with a graceful flip, landing as if weightless.

The Second Coming examined his friends, standing guard. Perfect. They're all here. He raised his hand, signaling the awaited countdown.

1...2...3!

Red was the first to charge at him, charging with recklessness. He swung fast, but The Second Coming avoided him easily, watching as Red fell onto the floor. Blue rushed in next as he jumped over Red, aiming a punch towards The Second Coming's face. Again in a swift motion, he ducked and strolled carelessly, making Blue fly past him. Green lunged towards him with the thought of victory still overcoming him. But The Second Coming caught him by the arm mid-leap and flung him on the floor effortlessly. Then just behind him, Yellow appeared out of nowhere and knocked his head.

The Second Coming jolted but quickly recovered himself, finally throwing in a fist. But just before even landing a hit, Green kicked him from behind. Red and Blue jumped in, pouncing him before he even got up. But in a heartbeat, The Second Coming jumped into the air, launching all four of his friends against the PC's walls. He dramatically landed on his feet, his fist punching the floor.

Slowly, Red, Green, Blue, and Yellow started to applaud happily while still sprawled on their spot.

The Second Coming got up and bowed down in a cheerful manner. As he looked at his friends, he couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth. Each sparring match they fought in, every puzzle they solved, each game they played together; every moment spent with them made his heart fuller. They lifted him in ways they probably didn't even realize. The Second Coming relied on all of them, more than they knew. He saw them more than teammates, but family. He would do anything for them-and their safety.

With a playful nod, The Second Coming helped them up one by one. Together, they dusted themselves off and chased each other to the Adobe Premiere Pro tab, where they saw Alan sketching as usual. They crowded around, watching what he was drawing next.

Alan's lines flowed smoothly at first, drawing across the canvas with precision. But something was off. The lines flickered from smooth to irregular, which made Alan pause.

"What the..." Alan mumbled.

The Second Coming noticed this immediately; that wasn't Alan's style. He looked at the line, unsure, but brushed it off as some sort of mistake. The artist erased the line and attempted again.

The line froze mid-streak. The Second Coming looked at Alan, with his stylus hovering over the drawing with confusion. Suddenly, lines exploded on the canvas, stretching across the program. The lines shot unexpectedly from random places, making the stick figures jump away.

All of a sudden, Adobe Premiere Pro froze. A message popped up saying that Premiere was not responding. This was weird...especially since it never did this in the past for Alan. Then, the message disappeared. Everyone was demented.

Alan slowly erased the mess, and The Second Coming ran to grab the Pencil. He began clearing massive parts of the canvas, making it return to normal, and started to remake his sketch. The Second Coming decided to help Alan, so he began drawing with him, but the second the tip of the Pencil made contact with the canvas, a bright flash of crimson filled the program. The Second Coming shook his head, thinking he was seeing things. He tried drawing again, and the bright flash of crimson returned, making the stick figures cover their eyes. It was definite that something unusual was up with Alan's PC.