Collision Code

by SSJRandomMaster


Act 3 Chapter 11

Act III: Collision of Wills
Chapter 11: Shattered
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It was all a blur as the night gave way to dawn. There were multiple injured ponies due to the vicious attack last night. The fact it was all lead by one pony didn’t even seem possible to Doctor Topazheal, but it didn’t matter to her or her assistants. In the end, they had patients to care for.
 
Some of the guards had suffered lacerations. Others were definitely concussed. A couple of the patients that weren’t guards had also been treated for their injuries, and those were pretty severe—more for the pegasus pony than the dragon, though. But there was one that stuck out to her.
 
Though he was alive, at least by his vital signs, there was just something off about him. He was sitting up on the edge of the bed. He was sitting there, shirtless, allowing the doctors to get a good look at his injuries. He had suffered multiple cuts everywhere, and there was a grievous puncture wound on his left shoulder that needed to be patched.
 
“Clean the wounds,” said one of the nurses to the others, who immediately went to work, “Now, this is going to sting.”
 
Corey—that was his real name—didn’t respond with little more than a very slight nod. The disinfectant was pressed to the open wounds, but not once did he even grunt sharply. He winced, sure, but he didn’t even draw back to try to get away from the rag.
 
Topaz looked at his eyes. They were distant, seemingly uncaring, tear trails down his cheeks. Even though the fighting was over, and that Slayer—whoever he was, had been driven out, he looked like he’d lost that fight.
 
“You’re doing great,” commented one of the nurses, sounding only mildly unnerved at the total lack of reaction to the disinfectant.
 
Corey’s mouth barely moved, but he obviously said something, considering the nurse that was working at another one of the wounds on his forearm looked up to say something.
 
“Excuse me?” she asked.
 
“Nothing…” Then there was the tone to his voice. He wasn’t speaking much, at least out loud, and when he spoke it sounded like he was dead to the world, much like his facial expression was. All in all, his behavior was just unnatural for someone in his situation.
 
But that wasn’t about to stop them from trying to heal his physical wounds, at the very least…
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After everyone had gotten their wounds treated, they all gathered in what was left of the throne room. Though their battle was won, there were mixed feelings over what had happened over the night. For Rarity and Pinkie, the two were in high spirits. The two had questioned their worth since this game began. But during last night’s fight with one of Slayer’s magical creatures, they’d both felt something they’d strived for: to be useful.
 
It was a hard battle that took everything they could muster, and in the end their efforts paid off the moment they saw the creature defeated. If anything, that moment proved to them that they weren’t holding anyone back. But while they were satisfied with what they had done, the same couldn’t be said for Rainbow and Applejack.
 
The two had set themselves to do their very best during their fights, but things didn’t turn out like they’d hoped. On one side was Rainbow, she and John had given it their all during the battle with the giant creature. Though they hadn’t been able to inflict much damage to it, they were still able to hold their own.
 
At least, until it let out a surprise attack. Rainbow could still remember what happened. She tried her best to avoid the oncoming spikes, but she wasn’t able to dodge all of them. It only took one lucky shot to throw her off balance. It was bad enough that she had to be shielded from the attack, and right after that she found herself unable to continue. In the end, all she could do was sit in a safe spot and watch John face the creature alone. Sure, they may have won in the end, but she wanted to be there to fight until the very end.
 
While Rainbow was thrown out of a fight, Applejack never got to fight at all. From the moment she heard the sounds of battle around the castle, Applejack had prepared herself to attack at a moment’s notice. She was thrown off guard by Slayer’s ruse and was soon thrown across the room and knocked out. It wasn’t until everything had settled down that she had finally regained consciousness.
 
It was humiliating for them, but they’d get over it…eventually.
 
What worried them the most at the moment was Twilight. She was waiting for them in the throne room when they arrived. Though she’d checked to make sure they were okay, it was clear there was someone else on her mind. At the moment, she stood at the corner of the room, her eyes glued to the window. Every time she heard the noise of the door opening, she’d turn to it quickly, a warm look on her face. But when the cause was not who they believed she was waiting for, her mood darkened.
 
Eventually, she grew tired of waiting.
 
“H-has anyone seen Corey?” she asked. Everyone looked to one another. Most of them hadn’t been seriously hurt and didn’t need to check into the infirmary.
 
“I saw him in the infirmary,” said Rainbow, one of the few who did need a trip, “They were treating his wounds when I was brought in. Eventually, they got to me, and I looked away. Next time I looked towards him, he was gone. Sorry, Twilight, but I don’t know where he is…”
 
Twilight’s brows furrowed. The look of worry became visible to everyone as she bit her thumb.
 
They’d all heard what had happened to him during his fight with Slayer. It was obvious that Twilight’s worry was justified. Rainbow still remembered the look on Corey’s face when she last saw him. The distant stare in his eyes, the absolute lack of life in them…she couldn’t get a read on him if she tried.
 
Now that she knew that no one knew where he was, Twilight’s concern grew by the second. So many questions went through her mind:
 
Where could he have gone?

Is he alright?

What if—

“Twilight,” Twilight paused, looking over to Rarity, “There comes a time when thinking about it will not get anything done.”
 
Twilight continued to look over to her, confused.
 
“She’s right, Twi,” Applejack chimed in, “If you’re worried, then go find him.”
 
“Yeah, if he’s sad, then someone else has to make him happy again. I’m pretty sure you’d be the best pony for this job,” Pinkie said.
 
Twilight looked through her friend’s smiles, unable to help shooting one back. With a nod of her head, Twilight made her way towards the door, disappearing into the halls.
 
After Twilight left, Rainbow started to chuckle.
 
“And what are you laughin’ about?” asked Applejack.
 
“Ah, c’mon,” said Rainbow, “Both of them are totally clueless! How can you not find that funny?”
 
“I guess so,” Applejack said, rubbing her chin and raising one brow, “On another note, where’s John?”
 
“Dunno,” said Rainbow with a shrug, “He was with me in the infirmary until I was patched up. Then he said there was somethin’ he had to do.”
 
Applejack cast a look to Rarity and Pinkie, both trying to stifle a chuckle. She turned back to Rainbow and said, “Really, he stayed to make sure you’d be okay?”
 
“Well, yeah,” Rainbow said, “Didn’t even let them treat his wounds until I was set first…”
 
Now the others let out a full-on laugh. This time, Rainbow questioned what the joke was.
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John’s wounds were quickly treated: a simple patch to stop the bleeding and allow the cuts to close. But at that moment, a little blood was the last thing on his mind. There were other things far worse than that. Rainbow, for example, had been one of them, but now that she was going to be fine, he had something—or rather, someone—else he needed to tend to.
 
Corey had been a concern of his ever since Twilight told him what happened before the attack began. But he didn’t think it would have ever gotten this bad, nor did he think Corey would go so far into his anger. He’d seen him in the infirmary, the dark cloud over him; the deadness in his eyes, but he was too worried about Rainbow’s injuries. He didn’t act right away.
 
Now, Corey had wandered off somewhere, mostly likely secluding himself from everyone else. But John had a slight idea of where he could have gone. Soon enough, John found himself in the room where it all began.
 
There you are…
 
In the far end of the room, sitting where the hole in the wall still acted as a massive window, Corey was sitting, his back to him. He was staring off into the horizon. Even though John couldn’t see Corey’s face, he could still feel the sense of grief coming off of his friend. John walked into the room, stopping next to Corey and leaning against the remains of the wall.
 
“I’ll be honest, I was sure you wouldn’t want to be anywhere near this place,” John said. Corey didn’t respond. John sighed. Beating around the bush wasn’t the best choice right now, not after everything that had happened.
 
“I heard what happened…and what you almost did,” Corey seemed to wince; proof that he wasn’t just flat out ignoring what John was saying, “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re feeling right now…and from the look of it, I’m guessing you’re trying to sort that out yourself.”
 
Again, Corey didn’t respond. He didn’t even look to John. The two remained in silence, one unsure of what to say, and the other refusing to say anything. But eventually, the latter found words.
 
“It used to be so simple,” Corey said, “They were the bad guys, and I was the good guy. Everything in between didn’t matter…”
 
John didn’t respond this time, waiting for Corey to finish.
 
“But somehow, I forgot that somewhere in the middle was where the line was drawn. I was so wrapped up in my own sense of justice that I almost crossed it. Now I’m standing right on it…and I’m scared of which side I’ll end up on…”
 
Corey’s hands, which were on his forearms, tightened their grips.
 
“Something like that could scare just about anyone,” said John, “But you still managed to see the line and stop yourself. If you want to end up on the right side, you just have to take a step back and remind yourself what you’re fighting for.”
 
Corey chuckled briefly. For that single moment, John started to think he was getting through to him. But that thought was soon dashed.
 
“I wish it was that simple, John, I really do…” Corey said, lifting one hand and staring at it. John couldn’t see anything on it now, but Corey flinched as though it was still stained with the blood of another, “But let’s face it…In the end, no matter what I try, no matter what I do, I’ll just end up doing it again. Just like before…”
 
John felt his heart sink. He’d seen Corey’s down moments before, but this time was far worse.
 
“But you can’t just—“ John said.
 
“John, please,” Corey cut in, finally turning to look to John, straight in the eyes, “I know you’re trying to help me. That’s all you’ve been doing for so many years. But fact is…you can’t help me. No one can…”
 
John fell silent. He saw not only the defeat in Corey’s eyes, but he could see that Corey was accepting it. He couldn’t find words to argue back against that empty, lifeless stare. John turned away, slowly making his way out of the room.
 
John’s face was void of any expression as he walked down the hall. However, it was just because he was waiting. When he turned the corner, when he was sure no one else would see or hear him, John grit his teeth and slammed his fist into the wall beside him. The force of the attack caused it to crater and crumble away. For a few seconds, John stood there, his fist hanging in the air of where the wall once stood.
 
“You’re right…I can’t help you,” John said, looking up, “But you’re wrong about one thing…”
 
John put his fist down and continued down the hall, a look of resolve on his face.
 
“There’s someone who can…”
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In the catacombs where the breakouts were hiding, far removed from society, just as they all had been to begin with, the air had changed. While it was still damp and heavy at times, the remaining escapees were buzzing with what they had heard happen to Slayer.
 
They’d wondered how Slayer could have gotten so thrashed. They’d wondered just what he’d managed to do. A couple even speculated that it hadn’t been a pony he’d run into at all, but a monster. However, there was one thought that had a couple slightly on edge.
 
They might eventually have to go up against the one who had broken him.
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Slayer fought to remain conscious ever since leaving the Crystal Empire. He was a broken, bloodied mess. The last thing he saw before he passed out again was their leader standing over him, her hand glowing. He had expected his life to end there, much like Lyon’s. Which is why he was confused to be waking up, floating in a red, anti-gravitational field. He could feel it mending so many of his injuries, feeling the pinch of bones coming together within his skin.
 
“Am I…?” Slayer started to wonder.
 
“I see you’ve awoken…” The feminine voice of the leader broke into his thoughts. Slayer turned his neck, “Oh, please, not so fast, you might wind up breaking it…”
 
Slayer blinked in shock. Hadn’t he ultimately failed? He’d known from the start he was expendable—he just didn’t care as long as he got to make “art” while he was alive and free. As he remained silent, wondering why he was still alive, their leader continued on.
 
“Let me tell you this,” A greyed finger came out of the cloak, “It was easier to list the parts of you that weren’t broken. More than half your bones were fractured at the very least, punctured lungs, shattered jaw, one eye blinded, organ damage, signs of organ failure... Needless to say, had I not learned healing magic prior to being incarcerated, there would have been nothing I could have done…”
 
“Why…” Slayer said, not understanding, “Why did you bother saving me?”
 
“I didn’t expect you to perform so well,” said their leader simply.
 
Slayer didn’t say anything, merely processing what he was being told.
 
“I have said this before, and I’ll say it once more: You are all but pawns in my quest for entertainment,” The figure leaned in closer, close enough that Slayer could see a grin under the hood, “And after what you had done, I will say this…”
 
She stood up straight, spreading her arms out as several panels appeared behind, “I was thoroughly entertained.”
 
Slayer looked up, realizing each of the panels contained still images, each displaying the events of the battle he’d just suffered.
 
“From the moment I had made contact with them, I could already see the wedge beginning to form between them. But that was nothing compared to what you did,” One of the images enlarged, revealing a video feed. It was Corey, his eyes distant, hunched over on a medical bed, “Though you lost in the end, you still managed to break the spirit of one member of their ranks.”
 
She laughed sinisterly. Slayer supposed that she was proud, but he didn’t care. He glared at the video feed, at the one pony who did this to him.
 
“I can see it in your eyes…You want revenge. You want to make him hurt more, don’t you?”
 
Slayer didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to either.
 
“Then all you need to do now is rest. It will take some time for your wounds to heal. But soon your time will come to entertain me again…” their leader said, before turning away and leaving Slayer to heal.
 
After leaving him to his healing, the figure exited the room and made way for another—her throne room. She ascended the steps to her throne, and no sooner did she sit down that a large screen popped up in front of her. It was a live video feed.
 
“Well now…it seems the penalty match is nearing its end,” she said, leaning back on the throne, “Pity, she put up such a good fight.”