Chester’s computer chimed as somebody pinged him over Discord, so he checked to see what the message was. It was from someone who was on a server he was on, tailored to discussing visual art, writing, and music, and negotiating collaborations, trades, and commissions. He navigated to the channel of that server from where the ping originated, the commission discussion channel. The message ran: Hey TheFuzzyVulpine I’m interested in commissioning you. Do you have time?

Chester pinged the potential customer back with, Certainly. You may DM me with your idea. He tabbed back into Clip Studio Paint to keep working on his latest art piece, a pair of tanks advancing, while he waited. The message came a couple minutes later, so he checked.

Hello. I was thinking of you drawing me before a montain in a desert somewhere? I can send you a picture if you need it, and I’d like a lineless shaded with four shade layers. Chester’s eye twitched when he noticed that the “u” in “mountain” was missing.
Chester typed back, Okay. That’ll come to $40. May I send you may PayPal now?

The reply to that was, No, but thanks. I’ll send you my own email, so you can send me an invoice. The customer followed up with an email address, as well as a photograph of some kind of mostly-hairless male ape. It took Chester a moment to remember what they were called, humans, and that unfortunately familiar pain, the feeling of being stabbed in the forehead with a hot knife, returned once again in the aftermath of that reality warp. Did those things always exist? Did they only start to appear? He couldn’t remember, and trying to think about it would only make the headache worse. He shook his head and sent the invoice, then went back to his tank drawing.

A couple minutes later, though, his customer reported trouble: Hey. I’m sorry, but I can’t afford this. How much would the same order but with two layers of shading go for?

Feeling generous, Chester replied, That will bring the price down to $30. Can you afford that much? I’ll cancel the current invoice and send a new one if you can.

Yes, thank you! I can afford that. So, Chester did as he promised, and his phone, which was sitting on his desk, buzzed about a minute later, displaying a notification of money being transferred to his PayPal.

So, Chester typed, Thank you. I have received the payment. I’ll have a rough sketch ready for you by the end of the week.

I look forward to seeing it. Thank you and have fun!

Chester smiled as he tabbed out of Discord and back into Clip Studio Paint and resumed the shading work on his tanks for a little bit, then created a new canvas to start working on the commission. About half an hour later, he got pinged from the same server, the same channel, so he checked. Another person interested in commissioning him. And so, he responded that he’s willing to take it, and for the next potential customer to DM him. He didn’t know it just yet, but he just opened up the gate of Hell. The message came about a minute later: Hi I want u to draw me standing at the front of a battleship.

He shrugged before typing back, Sure thing. I’ll need a reference for what kind of battleship you want, as well as what you look like. I also need to know if you’d like lines-without-shading or lineless-shaded. If the latter, how many layers of shading do you want?

In response, they sent a picture of a Nevada-class battleship, from a time when they still had their lattice cage masts. That was followed up by a picture of another human. So far, so good. Then came the rest of it: I want six shading layers with choppy waves in the background and heavy clouds.

Chester checked his pricing chart before typing back, That’s gonna take a while to make. Something that complex will be $85, and may take at least four weeks.

Instead of choosing to pay, however, this potential customer flipped out: What do you mean I have to pay? And $85? Ripoff! I demand a discount!

The fox sighed, his ears feeling as if they were burning, as he replied, Of course you have to pay. That’s what a commission is, you ask me to make something, and pay me to do it. If you ask me to do it without paying, that’s a request. I do not do those. If you want me to make this, then pay me or I won’t.

No, you do this for free or I’ll sue you for scamming me.

Scamming? Give me a break. You haven’t paid anything, you have no grounds for a lawsuit. If you’re not going to pay me, then forget it. I won’t do it. I’m blocking you now, so begone. He blocked the person, then went on with his day.

A little while later, after uploading his latest story to DeviantArt and FurAffinity, under the name TheFuzzyVulpine on both sites, he was browsing the news when an interview caught his eye, the local news station interviewing a local expert on reality alteration. He could tell that the expert was local to the area because of his Seattle area accent. He sat back and listened: “Well,” the local expert, Doctor McCaig, began, “the aurora that enveloped most of the planet last month did coincide with approximately everyone, all at once, who was awake getting a major headache, exactly the kind consistent with forced massive memory alteration. Now, add to that, this species, these ‘humans’ - he gestured to himself - we start to appear. We remember all being not human, but at the same time, we remember being human. This itself is consistent with several theories of what would happen if someone or something were to, if you will, repair reality, undo the changes…” Chester stopped the video and went somewhere else, as it was making that headache return. At least he made good progress with his personal artwork and his new commission. He checked his DA and FA, and found that the former account had received a message, so he checked.

It was the beggar. Hey! the message read. You owe me that art! How dare you block me while I was still talking to you! Chester’s eye twitched, but he just blocked that account, stood up, and went to the park.

* * * * * *

The weather was rather hot, but, fortunately, Chester had long since shed his winter coat. The cool breeze coming in from the north did help quite a bit, though, so did the shade of the trees around the edge of the park. He sat at the base of an oak, enjoying the silence and scenery. A few anthros and humans were in his sight as well, scattered around the park. He was content, especially with how much work he put into that commission in just two days. At least, he was content until he heard the voice.

“You!” Somebody off to his left shouted. “Yes, you, the fox under that tree!” He looked and saw another human. This one, for whatever reason, seemed very angry, especially as he was stomping towards him.

“Who are you?” Chester said, though, deep down, he already knew the answer.

“You still owe me that art, and you had no right to block me!”

The fox stood up, glaring at him. “No, I don’t. You refused to pay, you were very rude, and, now, you are hardly making any sense-”

“Do you realize how dispensable artists are? You’re worth nothing! NOTHING!” He continued to get closer, his demeanor becoming increasingly petulant and childish. “So you’d better-”

As soon as the human got close enough, his tongue and vocal cords seized up with a flash from Chester’s eyes. “You have one chance. Go away.” His eyes flashed again, and with a flick of the fox’s wrist, the man was suddenly standing quite a way away, almost on the other side of the park. Chester got on the path and proceeded away in the opposite direction.

Unfortunately, the human caught up to him, even more enraged. He grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn around, and screamed, “You will do it! My father’s brother is a Navy Lieutenant Commander working at the shipyard and he’ll-!”

He froze as Chester’s eyes started to glow. “I warned you to back off, and I made it quite clear that I’m a magic user. But now, I know just what to do with you.” The glow from Chester’s eyes intensified, and the man could not look away, as even his eyes were frozen. “Let’s see what’s in your mind, shall we?” The man whimpered as his body began to flatten and lose its shape as it turned to canvas. The fox cracked a grin as a wooden frame appeared around the thing that barely bore a trace of one having been a person. Then, finally, it was done; a framed canvas painting. It hung suspended in the air until the glow from Chester’s eyes ceased, and the fox grabbed the thing before it could hit the ground. Then the secondary spell kicked in, this one causing the canvas to emit a soft silvery glow. “You know,” he said, knowing the former person could still hear and see him, “I’ve always wanted to look into the mind of a choosing beggar, so perhaps I should thank you for giving me the chance. And, don’t worry, you’ll turn back after a few days, and I hope you learn your lesson in the meantime.” The glow began to subside, to finally show Chester what he’d been itching to see for a while. At last, he could see into the mind of the choosy beggar. The glow subsided, revealing a mostly-blank canvas, marked here and there with “Me.” Chester sighed. “Well, can’t say I’m disappointed.”