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The following is a fan-based

FICTION

Ducktales and other products set in the same universe are all owned by Disney.

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Chapter 1 – A Sea of Confusion

Beta-Reader: Ant0nius


When mom asked me to check the old house so that I could get out the old comics, I didn't expect to find numerous boxes filled with stuff I needed to pull out waiting for me in my old room. Sure, it didn't surprise me too much that mom would be so organized in these kind of matters; it did spare me the hassle of placing them all in boxes, but...

I had taken a day off from work to help; I had expected for work to be more troublesome. I thought it would have taken much more time and… I really didn't have much in my flat to keep me busy for that long without appearing 'lying' to my boss if he ever noticed I wasn't busy with what I had told him I was supposed to do today. He was a good guy, but he was stern to those that betrayed his trust, or at least those who seemed to betray it. This left me with two options. The first was wasting a day off as a hermit, away from any device capable of connecting to the web. My other option... was to creatively use my time off to enjoy what I once loved to do as a child. I laid on my old bed, ignoring the thin cloud of dust created by my little crash-landing move and… I fished out an old Mickey Mouse issue from the big box containing roughly four hundred issues of those.

...Oh? Oh right- why would anyone end up buying so many issues?

The answer to that question proved to be rather simple: it had been a major part of my early teenage years, which was why I ended up growing fond of each release. When you are an Italian child, there were many things that generally helped you pass your time. Girls had their specific TV programs, magazines, romantic books- but boys had Dragon Ball, other Animes, and comics. Mostly comics. I was one of the kids that ended up building an obsession to buy the weekly-delivered issues of various publishers. Marvel, DC and… Disney.

I could still remember the day. Mom decided to take me around the general area near to elementary school after I was done with the normal day there since I was supposed to waste time before going through some preparations for the Christmas festival for the end of the semester. I was preparing a lot, I was focused, but I was also quick to grow bored and the newest publication of Spider-Man had yet to arrive at the comics vendors. So, I tried to browse for alternatives. No new Batman, Superman, or even Ironman issues had been released, leaving me a little floored about the fact the things that were there I wasn't quite familiar with. In the end, mom took charge and picked the most confusing choice I could have imagined.

"Mickey Mouse? Really mom?" Squeaky, prepubescent John Bukharin asked sarcastically to the humming blonde that was his mother.

"Grandpa John loved it, and I can tell you will like it too."

And it was a very 'reliant' system to determine what I liked that I had yet to try. I had been told many times now that I was Grandpa John's carbon copy and that I shared so many things to like with him. So, if mom thought I would have liked it by that logic, then there had to be some sense in it since it had worked in previous times. Roughly 80% of the times this happened. Just as I started to read the first story, I realized one thing that my presumption of what was inside the comic didn't take into account. The comic wasn't just about Mickey and his adventures- it was about both Mouseton and Duckburg, their inhabitants and many characters which I didn't know and that were born through the comic. A canvas way bigger than what I expected appeared before me in that small-sized issue, with slice-of-life stories alternated with adventures, parodies, and… secrets being revealed. It was a gold mine for someone that was really craving for something light but substantial, something that didn't unpack so much in so little time and…

I loved it. Every single moment of it.

As I re-read the story of the issue I was perusing for God's know how many times, I actually struggled to remember when it all came to an end. When I started going to Swimming lessons? When I started high school? My mind felt unable to bring forth any memory that would seriously confirm that matter and… I was confused. But not enough to stop myself from reading. The main element of the story was tied to Paperinik, Donald Duck's super heroic alter ego which acted as a mix of Batman, Diabolik and Daredevil. I sighed happily as I pulled page after page, my eyes widening in bliss as I felt back at those easier times before I had to struggle with the many issues of life. Did I miss those? Yes, but I wouldn't go back to relive those as I know what followed were some of the tougher years I could have imagined.

After going through roughly fifty of those small issues, I felt my eyelids drooping a little bit. A yawn formed as I realized how the old bed was way softer and more comfortable than the one back at the flat and… how this nostalgic wave was just bringing me close to snores. I chuckled, shaking my head skeptically at that concept as I decided to go for the killer move without thinking much about it. The bigger issue that I had received from my other grandpa, a 'gold'-plated book with numerous stories narrating Scrooge McDuck's adventures from when he started to work as a boots-cleaner and how he gained the Number One Dime, to his entire life around the world as adventures slowly but steadily led him to lose focus about his family and… ultimately lose focus of them with that swift kick from little Donald. I shifted a little more in the bed as I finally felt it – the sleep was calling and I had been having some trouble sleeping in the last few days. I knew better than to say 'no', especially when pulling myself out of that mood just felt… tiring. A quick nap wouldn't hut too much' I quietly thought as I yawned again, this time feeling myself falling further into a slumbering mood & less willing to remain awake.

I closed my eyes and I felt myself falling into...

Cold water.

My eyes snapped open as I felt my nostrils flare at the salty water I had woken up into an ocean- or a sea. Something that I wasn't supposed to wake up in considering I was just napping on my old bed before ending up here. I struggled a bit, my throat burning as some of the water entered through my lips. 'Focus', I screamed from the top of my brain, 'and pull yourself out of there!'

This isn't too difficult' I commanded in my mind, 'I'm not in too deep'. Psyching myself up, I started shifting my brain into the correct mindset for a swimmer. Shifting my legs so that they wouldn't tangle up each other and arching my arms in a synchronized pattern, I started to pull myself towards the barrier between 'water' and 'breathable air'. I gasped loudly as my head emerged, my blurry sight catching many colors and a lot of brown. The smell of sea, fishes and… wet wood just reminded me of the docks near home. Coughing, I felt my lungs on fire, the surprise swim really getting me worked up as I struggled a bit to get hold of the closest thing possible. The wooden support had some splinters, but I was lucky enough to pull the two small things that had gotten stuck in my palm out as quickly as I could before carefully climbing up the pier. I took a moment to stare down at the planks, trying to regain control over my quick and painful heartbeat and my own breath. I closed my eyes, trying to recollect what had just happened and how I ended up here.

And just as I felt things going back under my control, I felt some footsteps approach and my grasp on reality started to sharpen back to normal. Blinking, I stared up to greet a possible helper… but I paused in shock at the sight I was presented with. Short, standing on a pair of orange webbed feet, he was wearing a black sailor shirt with matching white hat. Duck, white plumage, I felt at loss for a moment as I couldn't find any words able to match my current shock. This was… Donald Duck? What was going on?!

The guy was holding a first aid kit on the side, perhaps expecting to use it on me if I was injured and required assistance in that regard. I coughed a bit more water, and I felt my burning lungs reminding me that I was far from in optimal shape.

"Are you alright?"

As I imagined, the anthropomorphic duck was a bit difficult to understand due to his unique voice, but I managed to understand what he meant, and perceived a sense of genuine, friendly worry that left me even more stumped and even more… drained. Gulping nervously, I tried to muster a response. Something clear and not threatening, not stupid, not… damning.

"I-I don't think-"

I couldn't finish that sentence because I felt my brain go numb. Shock? Panic attack? No, this was a bit different. Not a heart attack, but I felt my whole body shutdown and… I had fainted. If I had the chance to facepalm, I would have. So embarrassing and yet I had no control over it. A cold swim, new surroundings… Donald Duck.

Yep, I've gone insane…

Of course, the truth was much more complicated than it sounded. Just like it usually is...


AN

I thought about doing something fluffy. So here it is.