//------------------------------//
// The Music is flowing like "Tears" 
// Story: Xero's After-the-Final Fight 
// by The P Co 
//------------------------------//

Xero strolled up to the massive building that would house the AEMC, the Mane 6 and Scootaloo following him closely.

"Alright, so, here's how it's gonna go, we all sign up in our specific teams, and we have fun, if any of us win, they share the glory." the soldier debriefed.

The various small cheers were given, and the group entered the building.

The signing process was taking a long time, suddenly, Xero felt a bad omen.

"Excuse me ladies." the still transformed brit dismissed herself, rushing to the bathroom.

Entering via flying kick to the door, she rushed into one of the stalls.

A sharp pain pierced her torso, starting at her midriff and quickly spreading all over.

Convulsing in agony, she felt like her skin was tightening and stretching at the same time.

Her scalp felt like it was on fire, all of the individual hairs being ripped out. 

Unable to breathe properly, her eyes were pouring tears and other fluids, mouth salivating uncontrollably, teeth feeling uprooted, lips feeling like they were stabbed by needles, her entire face felt like it was being squeezed by an industrial compactor,

Her hands and feet felt broken, the skin was numb, but the muscles were tight.

Her chest felt like it was bleeding and torn, as though it were covered in lacerations and incisions.

Her lower body felt like it was being melted via flaming acid, no matter how ridiculous that would be in practice, stretching and tearing of the skin. 

It was all real feeling, but none of it was actually happening.

Collapsing finally, head laying on the external piping that acted as a backing for the toilet, he could feel himself pissing blood.

Groaning in agony as his internal organs repaired themselves, he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally feeling no additions to his suffering, he injected himself in the neck with a strong dose of analgesics, and left the room.

Panting as he opened the door, leaning on the frame, a random mare was standing right outside the restroom, about to open the door herself.

"*huff* Bloody hell *huff*" he panted, righting himself again.

The recovered man left the vicinity, leaving a disturbed looking mare glancing between his departing form and the restroom door, unsure of whether or not to enter.


<<time flies in the transition>>


Entering the individual performance auditorium, the brit walked towards the stage, feeling better with each step, more alive and less exhausted.

"ALRIGHT, AND NOW, OUR FINAL COMPETITOR, FROM ALL THE WAY IN PONYVILLE, WE HAVE XERO!" the announcer had convenient timing, as Xero was only a few seconds from the stage.

Flapping his wings a few times to cross the distance with speed, the cyborg landed on the stage on (if he had limbs) one knee, facing away from the audience.

Turning to the massive crowd, he grabbed the microphone and began.

"Okay, I'm here to rock the house, and tell a story, at the same time, so let me start this." he recited his planned speech, switching on his radio and finding the right song, plugging an output to the DJ stand.

"You see, I've fucked up pretty badly in my time, but I've always done my best to make up for it, and this is the start of my singing my heart out." the words were filled with a mixture of sadness and hope.

He played the song.



"You see, no matter how many changes I go through, no matter how far I get, I'll never escape my roots, but hey, at least I've got this." he joked, summoning his motorcycle.

The audience laughed at the subtle humor.



"But the time for peace will come and go, and I'm ready for it all." he sounded broken, mad in the head.



"Sometimes, the pain is too much to take, and sometimes, the pleasure is sickening, but I don't care, I'll keep trudging along all the way through." he had regained some modicum of sanity, but the music poured forth.



"And my whole life up until a couple of years ago has been a living hell." the small amount of sanity he had built was reinforced, but he still sounded broken.



"It's okay, though, I'm okay, honest, I'm not going to let anything keep me down, but the past is too painful, if only I had tried harder, I could have saved everyone, but I didn't try hard enough, and I didn't save everyone, and I failed, I failed and nothing is going to change that." he sounded crazy, like he was about to start massacring at any second.

The next song was belted out with broken dreams.



"I'm haunted by the past, and it seems that no matter how hard I try to forget, I can't, I keep remembering, and I can't stop myself from remembering any longer." he sounded like he was crying.

Luckily for him, nopony could see that he actually was crying.



"Sometimes I look at myself, and I look at ponies like you all, and I feel appalled at my own being, like I'm something that's too corrupt and wrong to exist, I.... I feel.... I feel like a........ like a........" he quickly started the next song.



"But I've some good in me, enough for a proper redemption, but I know things that most have the luxury to be ignorant of." his voice held something new, contempt, self-contempt.

The next track came with vigor.



"Things have been looking up, and then turning to shit, it's been 'lather rinse repeat' for not-even-Luna-knows-how-long." something else new, empathy, solace.



"And now, methinks that everything might turn out alright, but be careful, never let your guard down." his voice spoke volumes of warning.



"There's not much left to say, except looking forward to what's to come, so yeah, let me just give all of you a big ol' middle finger." he sounded revived, he mustered up control of his lungs and prepared to sing along.

It was time for a big ol' middle finger.



Despite it all, he got a deafening applause.

He had won the AEMC.

Everypony was cheering for him.

His friends helped him back to Ponyville.


<<exhausted transition>>


Staggering through the streets, Xero was surrounded by the Mane 6, Scootaloo kept him upright, and the others kept him going.

Barely able to keep himself awake, he just kept walking, wearing his hoodie for warmth during the cold night.

Following his wife's swishing spectral tail, the cyborg didn't risk an adrenaline dosage, because then he probably wouldn't be able to sleep soundly.

Sitting on his spouse's back suddenly, more-so laying, he held on tight, not letting go of that fantastic feeling cyan fur and soft rainbow mane, being half asleep gave him some symptoms of being on ecstasy.

He wasn't sure of the passing of time, he was too damn tired, but he was in bed, the blanket being laid over him.

His music trophy stood proudly on his shelf, and his body laid limp on his bed, hands, feet, and wings all splayed out.

He would sleep for quite a while.

But that's okay.

He had earned it.


<<recovery transition>>


Ravenously shoveling his breakfast down his gob, his stomach felt painful with emptiness, so he didn't really care about filling it too fast.

He needed to keep up his strength, so he consumed with joy and vigor.

Scootaloo, by comparison, was like a queen with her etiquette, though it was only not being messy or noisy with her eating directly from the bowl, like a normal pony.

Rainbow Dash alternated between eating and reading a newspaper, sitting at an odd angel to accomplish this.

Xero, having given up on his shoveling technique, willed himself into pony form and shoved the plate into his muzzle, chewing with his strange, sharp-yet-flat teeth.

They were a great, big (not really, with only 3 members) happy family.

And nothing would change that as long as Xero was able to move.

Which was all of the time.

So nothing bad was going to happen.

Shit, fate has been tempted.