Act 3 Chapter 40: 404 Mind Not Found
"Just because they haven't tried to kill us, yet, doesn't mean we're friends. We're allies. Allies exist to enjoy a comfortable break from a perpetual struggle. It may be tomorrow, it may be next week, but one day they will come for us if we allow this condition to persist. That is why friendship is so important. Friends can be friends for a thousand years and share a table, bleed on a battlefield, or starve in a street, without going for one another's throats. It is essential we dedicate resources to creating true friendship with the dragons. I pray we still have the will."
- Scribbled in the margins of the Peace Treaty signed in the final days of the Cutie Mark Crusades. Author unknown, signed with a six pointed star.
“Ah, that was just what I needed! Haven’t had a beer in...more than a few days, now.”
“You made me wait while you drank an entire beer?!”
“Oh, I drank two. And I have a third right here beside me.”
“...”
“You still there?”
“There’s a special place in Tartarus for you, Hard Boiled. It’s a place where you’re strapped to a chair and made to watch only two thirds of every movie ever made.”
“Could be worse. If my life ever flashes before my eyes, I hope I can fast forward through most of it. Now, where was I?”
“You remember exactly where you were! I know you do!”
“Ah, right…”
----
My host’s beak was dry and I was desperately wishing she would wet it, but both of us were transfixed.
“The shield is gone now,” D.W. described, as the sky blackened further over Uptown. “Its light has winked out and the skies are dark. The cloud cover is bubbling with lightning. Flashes of light are dancing across its surface. I can see a few of your soldiers tightening their grips on their weapons, but it would do them no good. Do you smell the ozone in the air? Here comes the thunder…”
The air rocked as though with an explosion, and dust in the air shook. One of the Stilettos on the nearest building was shaken off the wall, and a unicorn sitting in a doorway had to catch her before she could plummet to the earth.
“Listen...Do you hear it, now?”
“I...hear something that sounds like a flock of pigeons,” the Prince murmured, just loud enough to be heard. His normally calm expression was drawn into a nervous grimace as his ears turned toward uptown.
The P.A.C.T. pony’s black eyes pulsed with little flickers of color that crawled across their surfaces like worms under the thin membranes as he stood a bit straighter.
“Wings, Prince. Those are wings you hear.”
From over the rooftops, a thin stream of darkness appeared, seeming to reach toward the sky as it slowly spiraled around itself, growing thicker and thicker, like a wisp of smoke from a burning building. As the griffin girl’s eyes adjusted, I could make out the shapes of semi-equine bodies twisting and writhing in the air as they climbed above the horizon, lit from beneath by the city lights. Their forms were distorted, but familiar enough that my heart started to race.
“Now, then, Prince of Detrot. This is my threat and this is my army. Appropriate, no?”
My host hefted her gun up against her eye and peered down the scope, adjusting the lenses so she could get a good look at the growing cloud of creatures. She tried to follow a few, getting a studied look at their features. There were plenty of variations, each more hideous than the last. Some had too many eyes on their heads, while others sprouted two sets of wings, like especially ugly dragonflies. Most seemed to be similar to the berserkers we’d fought at the Castle, and by Celestia, there were an awful lot of them; ten times as many as had ever been in the P.A.C.T. and more besides.
It was a display to drive brave stallions under their mothers’ skirts, and if I’d had an especially safe skirt to hide behind just then, I’d have sprinted for it.
Precious slowly took several steps back from the possessed trooper, though D.W.’s five guards made no move to stop him.
“Now...Ah...Ah hear those wings and Ah hear the noises those things are making. Ya...ya gonna tell me those were ponies?” the Prince asked.
The grin on D.W.’s face was the one a shark might sport finding a wounded seal splashing about in his territory as he looked up at the swirling horde.
“In only the most literal, biological sense of the word,” he sneered. “What is a pony, after all? One who cares for their herd? One who stands by them in times of trouble? A pony is a creature that loves, and fights for the harmony of their fellows. A pony is a pillar against which the weak may shelter. You are a good pony, Prince. I know your history.”
“Well, thank ya kindly, but...that don’t make me feel any better. Who’re they?” Precious asked, gesturing with his cane toward the sky.
“Them? When their world was burning, they ran away and sought comfort and wine. They took their vast privilege, their wealth, their life-saving resources...and headed for the first pony to offer them a cushion for their butts and a luxuriously appointed roof over their heads. They were beasts with hooves before. Now they are beasts with wings.”
----
“Sweet Celestia…you don’t mean—”
“All those rich ponies he invited into Uptown when the Darkening began? Maybe.”
“But those you saw...they could have been all he had, right?”
“I really, really hope so. Mercy, if they weren’t, we’re in trouble. Even at our best, the Aroyos, Stilettos, Detrot Police Department, the Underdogs, Skytown, and whoever else we could gather up might field ten thousand trained bodies. That’d be anyone who could hold a gun. The rest are just civilians, just trying to survive. We control most of the city, but it’s urban control, not old-school military superiority.”
“B-but how? How could he enchant so many ponies?! The magical resources are boggling! I can’t even do the math for that without my abacus! Maybe even a chalkboard!”
“Well, D.W. had thirty years to work out a method…”
“Thirty years?! How on Equestria do you know that?”
“Because thirty years ago, Taxi’s father was the subject of some nasty mutagenic magics that gave him the ability to change his face and body. It made him a good assassin, and those magics were bought and paid for by someone who granted the Jewelers Union their dearest wish, set them up as the most powerful crime syndicate in the city, and has propped them up since their inception.”
“My...stars. That’s...insane. To plan...to plan so grandly…”
“Believe me, it’s been keeping me up nights just how far ahead these people can think. They infected Swift with this same magic, but it had to be triggered for her. I suspect they’d have done the same to most of the rest of us, but they need chaos to power the wish machine. Probably a particular flavor of chaos, too: one generated from free, thinking, feeling ponies suffering in the streets.”
“T-that’s...horrible. Who could even imagine such a thing?”
“You’re looking for reasons. Forget the reasons. This is a murder investigation the size of a city, and what you need to know is ‘How?’, ‘Where?’, and ‘When?’. Everything else is irrelevant.”
----
D.W. straightened, spread the trooper’s wings, and raised his voice so everypony within three blocks could hear him. His black, soulless eyes roved over the walls, picking out fighters who should have been invisible behind the illusory walls.
“Please deliver this message! Detective Hard Boiled has three hours to deliver the helm or my forces will descend on the Vivarium and leave no one alive! Three hours after that, we will be inside of the Underdogs’ little village! Three hours after that, we will be at the doors of the City Morgue! Miss Stella’s corpse will hang from the Statue in the Bay of Unity and your children’s blood will fill the gutters! You cannot run! You cannot hide!”
With that, D.W. bowed to Precious and touched his brow with one hoof. Letting the magical amplification drop again, he said, “An honor, as always. I do hope to see you perform again one day, if you survive.”
The Prince couldn’t see the bow, but he nodded, subtly. “We both got work to be done, Ah ‘spect. Hard Boiled will hear, if he hasn’t already.”
The six Blackcoats opened their wings and leapt into the sky, tracked by dozens of gun barrels as they shot off towards the cloud of monsters that were quickly disappearing back under the skyline. After a few moments, the clouds flashed, and the unhealthy, yellow light of the Uptown shield reappeared as an uneasy silence fell over the courtyard.
My host body’s back legs felt a little damp and I realized I wasn’t the only one who’d felt like pissing myself when that swarm appeared over the city.
‘Alright, I’ve seen what I came to see,’ I thought. ‘Have someone bring this poor kid a nice fluffy towel and a bucket of soapy water. Be discrete and make it look like it was just left nearby.’
The griffin’s senses slowly faded until I was left, once more, a finite spark of consciousness in the spinning threads of the Ladybug network, speeding toward my body.
----
I opened my eyes to find a bit of pimento being carefully painted on the end of my nose. Mags was curled up in front of me, one claw extended and the jar propped between her paws as my friends sat around with nervous expressions. My ward blinked and sat back as I flicked my tongue over my muzzle, her beak clicking irritably at the ruination of her art project.
“Well, I found a whole creek of shit up there. Anyone got a paddle?” I grunted, pulling my hooves under me.
“Och, boyo, ye were only down fer a minute or so!” Sykes commented, grinding a sharpening stone down his axe. “What’d ye see?”
“Nothing good,” I replied, lifting the ladybug off the end of my muzzle. “Everyone needs to see this. Can we get a half dozen more ladybugs in here? Let’s play back everything I just saw.”
----
Ten minutes later, everyone was sitting there staring at their feet, claws, hooves, and paws as a tiny circle of exhausted looking ladybugs lay in a heap on Stella’s catwalk. Firebrand was hugging herself against the railing, her eyes shut tightly as she unconsciously stroked the hilts of her swords. Stella sat on his throne, eyes darting back and forth like he’d found himself with a complex puzzle to solve.
The rest just looked like somepony had hit them in the face with a wiffle bat. Even Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle were just sitting there in their rocking chairs, stunned expressions on their faces and ladybugs perched on the arms of their seats. At some point, Bones had lit up a pair of cigarettes and Iris Jade was taking pulls off the spare, just staring into space as they mulled our situation. Swift looked like she was verging on a panic attack, while Taxi was in what appeared to be deep meditation and Limerence had his knives out, sharpening one with a tiny stone.
Only Mags seemed unfazed by the situation, but then, I hadn’t let her see the message. Scarlet had apparently gone off on some errand for Stella while I was out. A hug would have done me wonders just then.
“Right. So, I have...huh. Does somepony have a watch?” I asked. Limerence automatically reached into his pocket, lifted out his Archivist watch, and flicked it open, then held it up where I could see. “I have about two hours and thirty minutes to go get the Helm and get back to the meeting point.”
“You’re not actually considering turning the Helm over to them, are you?” Scootaloo asked, all but leaping out of her rocking chair. “You can’t do that!”
“Considering I’m the only one who knows where it is and we have...two hours and twenty-nine minutes left before all of my loved ones die, I’m pretty sure I can. That means we have nineteen minutes to come up with a plan to get it back if I want to make all the stops we need to make. So, start talking.”
Taxi hopped to her hooves. “Well, while you talk, I’m going to go prep the Night Trotter. I want to make sure it works.”
I held up my hoof. “No, Sweets, I need you here organizing along with everypony else. We need meaningful defenses against those creatures. Your job is to get me every trump card you can. Firebrand, you think you can carry me again?”
The dragoness shrugged and spread her wings. “I can. Of course, I will require directions and a gag. In this den of debauchery, I am sure we can find one. I do not wish to puncture your vocal chords again. Where, exactly, are we meant to be going?”
“Two stops. A secret tram station on the other side of town and...then on to my parents’ house.”
“Your parents’ house?” Limerence asked, then sucked in a breath. “Ah...right. The only place you have ever felt safe. I wondered what that creature meant.”
“Lim, while I’m there, I need trump cards we can play if things get too dicey—”
“Of course, Detective. I’ll gather a group of ponies.”
“You should—...wait, what?”
“You were about to ask me to head back to the Archive and begin finding things we might meaningfully weaponize against these creatures, yes?”
“Uh...well, yes. Also, we need deep analysis on the magic they put inside Swift.”
Swift unfolded her wings and stood. “With your permission, Sir, I’ll head back to Supermax and interface with Tourniquet directly. We might be able to figure out a way to reverse this...whatever it is...for all those ponies who were changed.”
“And for you, little bird?” Stella added.
My partner stuck her tongue out. “No way! I’m not giving up meat! The first thing Mom did when she saw me was give me a hug and a piece of griffin style fried chicken!”
“Speakin’ of all those beasties, you best not go only the love and friendship route. You wanna fight ’em, you need high explosives and ice magic,” Bones added, thoughtfully. “We used that combination against the demi-dragons in the war. Works good for swarms.”
“Demi-dragons?” Firebrand asked, raising her neck flukes. “What are these creatures?”
“Nasty little lizards mutated from some local life form in the dragon lands, about this big,” Bones replied, holding his skeletal legs about twelve centimeters apart. “Some nutty dragon lord magically engineered them. They breed quick and have a crazy territorial instinct, but no lifespan to speak of. The tactic was to drop a bunch of frozen ones in an area, then let them thaw out. They’d strip the flesh off a pony in about twenty seconds, kill everything in an area, then die off because they’d refuse to leave their territory to look for food. Nice, clean area denial mixed with a heck’of’a psychological impact.”
“But...why the ice magic and high explosives?” the dragoness asked.
“Our method was to cast heavy blizzard magic over the swarm, then shatter them with concussion blasts. Messy, but it bypassed their natural resistances to heat and shrapnel. Those creatures out there have thick skulls, thick bones, and thick hides. I doubt that anything below a forty five slug will have much of an effect.”
“I do believe I may have something in the Archive that I can modify to suit our needs,” Lim mused.
Iris Jade growled, blasting twin circles of cigarette smoke out of her nose. “Much as I hate to admit it, Hard Boiled is right. There’s no way to get a workable defense around this place in time and those bastards know about the ladybugs. They’ll be watching for you to track the damn Helm. Talk about how we’re going to get it back. Nothing else matters.”
“If you have a suggestion, Miss Jade, I do think the rest of us would be simply ecstatic to hear it,” Stella said, cocking one perfectly styled eyebrow at the former Chief of Police as he tossed one tail of his boa over the opposite shoulder and settled deeper into his throne.
“We know they’re tracking everypony in the city, right? Can we use this ‘Scry’ thing? Dunk the helm in the water supply?”
Swift fluttered her wings a little bit, her eyes darting about in her head in the way that they did when she was conferring with Tourniquet. “Um...we’d need the Scry itself to make that work. We don’t even know what it is, do we?”
“But, we do know where it is, my dear,” Sweetie Belle interjected, teasing a lock of soft, violet mane back from her face over one ear as the projected image of her flickered a few times, then stabilized. “Apple Bloom, if you wouldn’t mind explaining? You’re ever so much more eloquent with technical terms.”
Bloom capped her flask and smiled, adjusting herself in her seat as her prosthetics whirred to life. “Ah don’t mind if Ah do, Miss Belle, but time’s short, so Ah’ll keep it short. There’s somethin’ in the water supply which puts offa magical isotope. Goes right in yer body and stays there, in the bloodstream. Bet iffen we had a lab, we might flush it out, but Ah ain’t worryin’ about that right now. What does matter is we found a sorta...gravitational pull in the local magical fields. Ah triangulated it, and it points at the Office, dead sure.”
I considered this for a few seconds, painfully aware of the ticking of Limerence’s watch.
“So, if this is in everypony’s bloodstream...could I soak the helm in blood, then track it with the Scry?” I asked.
Scootaloo opened her muzzle, then hesitated for a moment before continuing, “You’re talking about an awful lot of blood, there, Hard Boiled. Two or three pints in close proximity to one another just to give us a heading. Even then, we don’t exactly know how the Scry works—”
“Is it doable if somepony had that much they were willing to part with?” I interrupted. “I need ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”
“We’re in the land of pure conjecture here, pup!” she replied, a little hotly. ”Magical tracking isn’t a perfect science, and we don’t exactly know how the Scry works! If we’re wrong, we got nothing! Besides, who would be able to give up that much blood?”
Stella cleared his throat, noisily, and lifted a thick forearm daintily above the catwalk, poising one sharpened talon against it. “A few pints, darling? Let it never be said I am unwilling to bleed for the cause, though I will need a bucket.”
“Riiight. Well, it...it might work,” Bloom murmured, rubbing the side of her head with one hoof. “Ah mean, if nothin’ else, we could just track Miss Stella’s blood. That’d dodge a magical nullification, iffen they tried that. Blood on the helmet itself would hafta be fresh, if we want more’n a general direction. Sweetie Belle and Ah’d have to work up a charm and even then, ya’d have to be close to get an actual location, rather’n a general heading. Real close. Five hundred meters, maybe. Ah also don’t know any magics to keep blood from going bad...”
“Sykes!” I snapped, and my friend hopped to his claws and sprinted for the door.
“Oi! On it, boyo! One Tokan blood mage, comin’ up!” he called over his shoulder.
“Alright,” I said, watching him go. “We’ve got two options. Now, anyone got a way of keeping me alive? I’m about to walk into a meeting that I strongly suspect will include my capture.”
There was a protracted silence, then Mags of all people raised her voice.
“Uh...Egg Pony?”
I glanced down at my ward and gave her a crooked smile. “You got an idea for us, honey?”
“Don’t know. Just thinking. Makes my head hurt, but...why don’t you do what I done?”
“What you done...I mean, what you did, when? What do you mean?”
“You know! In the drawer! I play like I already dead and the monsters leave me alone.”
Taxi’s eyes lit up with comprehension. “She’s...she’s talking about the Moonwalk Hotel. We found her in a drawer, hidden from the monsters. She played dead and they left her alone.”
“They’ll check for a pulse, Sweets. Probably also a find-life spell, if they have a unicorn with them. If I’m going to play dead, I’m going to have to...be...oh.” I let out a loud moan and flopped on the catwalk, pulling my hat down over my eyes. “I just said that out loud, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you did,” Scootaloo began, with a thoughtful expression. “I mean...it’s not a bad idea, for sure. I’m certain Apple Bloom can whip together something—”
“No, no, no...we don’t have time for you to whip something together and get it here!” Iris cackled, cutting Scootaloo off as she rubbed her hooves together with glee. “It just so happens that I was going through the medical kits upstairs and I noticed a lovely combination of psychotropics with some interactions that would be perfect for seeing Hard Boiled off this mortal coil! Temporarily, of course. I’m sure once it’s out of his system, that lovely magical heart of his will start chugging again...”
“Jade, you’re volunteering for something,” I said. “You do know that makes me scared, right?”
Rising from her chair, Jade chucked her cigarette butt over the railing and headed toward the opening where Sykes had disappeared.
“Trust me, Hard Boiled. I did promise I’d see this through, didn’t I? I shan’t let you go quietly into that good night, and a simple overdose is too good for you. Besides, if your heart fails, I get to kill you once, and if it doesn’t...I might get to do it twice!!” She did a quick tap dance with her back hooves, grinning the whole way. I caught something about ‘Hearth’s Warming Eve coming twice a year’, and then she was gone, leaving only a dull, fearful chill in my gut.
“Hardy, you’re not...not really going to take whatever she gives you, are you?” Taxi asked.
“If there’s one thing I know about Iris, it’s that she would jump at the opportunity to kill me again,” I replied, closing my eyes.
Swift hooked a fang over her lip and asked, “Sir, are we still relying on Iris’s hatred of you to keep you alive?”
“It worked last time, didn’t it?”
“Sir, past performance is not an indicator of future—”
“I’m aware of that line, kid. Iris wouldn’t kill me. Her daughter’s life is on the line, here.”
“I really hope that’s enough reason, Sir.”
Bones strolled over and put a thin foreleg across my shoulders. “Colt, one of these days, I want you to lemme know what you did to piss that mare off so bad.”
I drew in a deep breath which smelled too much like dust, death, and cigarette smoke for comfort. Shrugging Bones’s leg off me, I pulled my coat over my flanks and rose.
“Alright, then! Plan is in motion, and we only have a few minutes to make it happen! I need a bucket, some empty blood packs, a duffle-bag, and a bagel! Get moving, people!”
----
“You planned to soak the helm in dragon’s blood—one of the most magically active substances in the world—and hoped D.W. and whoever they send to get the helm wouldn’t notice?”
“Actually, if Stella hadn’t offered, I was going to soak it in my blood. He saved me trying to make this exchange while nursing a nasty case of dehydration.”
“...If I ever have to write a report on these events, I’m leaving that out, okay?”
“Why?”
“I’m worried that if historians found out I still trusted you to save the world after you said something like that, they would have lots of questions about my competence.”
----
It was nearer to twenty-five minutes before everything was ready, and every second wasted was one closer to a massacre. I’d no doubt D.W. would keep his word, at least with regards to his willingness to kill everyone. Mayhap he was the honorable sort and would let them live if I turned myself over to him. It was a terrible thing to bank on, but we’d run out of alternatives.
The cold wind wailed through my ears on the Vivarium’s roof, leaving them chilled as my breath misted the air. I stared out over the Bay of Unity, listening to the frantic sounds of shouted orders, directions, and crying children. The work of evacuating the streets surrounding the Vivarium was going forward apace, but it was likely to take more than two hours.
Two hours.
Two hours to get out to the Warehouse and then get back to my parents’ house. Mercy, I hadn’t been back there in years. Just the thought of the old place was enough to give me a hit of guilt; one more little way I was sure I’d disappointed my father.
For the third time in ten minutes, I checked the brown duffle-bag resting against my leg, quickly unzipping it. The interior was soaked in pungent dragon’s blood, which was pooling in the corners, soaking through dozens of bandages we’d wedged inside. Sea serpent’s blood stank of rivers and fish, but with a strange and underlying sweetness to it. Beneath that, the false bottom and sides of the bag added a bit of weight, but a couple spare medical kits made it almost believable that it was just that heavy.
‘Almost believable,’ I thought, ‘I really hope they don’t ditch the bag or this is going to be complicated.’
“Sir, this is the only gag I could find. They’ve stored most of the toys,” Swift murmured, breaking me from my thoughts. She held up a bright red ball, with a pair of leather straps on the ends. “It was either this, or one with...um...with a penis on it...”
I took the gag from her and examined it. “A stick with a couple of bits of string attached wasn’t an option?”
“Not that you can take off without a horn, Sir. This has a sound dampening enchantment, and there’s a button on the side there so you can remove it.”
“You washed it?”
“Bleached, Sir,” she replied, then her ears perked up. “Oh! I almost forgot. Tourniquet got a glimpse inside the shield when it went down. We’re still processing everything, but we might have some actual intel when you get back. Maybe even enemy numbers or movements.” She paused, her lower lip quivering. “I really wish I was coming with you. It feels wrong sending you out there alone...”
“I won’t be alone, kid,” I said, gesturing at the dragoness crouched beside us with a back hoof. “If nothing else, this is one more opportunity to convince people I’m dead before we move on the Office.”
Taxi slipped her front legs around my neck and nestled her cheek against mine. “I’d say this is the worst idea you’ve ever had, but I know I’m probably wrong. Speaking of bad ideas, I checked the pills Iris got together. Mostly painkillers, but if you mix them, they’re a neurogenic poison. I...I don’t know if they’ll affect your memory—”
I put a toe over her lips, then patted my front pocket where a vial of powdered pills lay. “Please don’t explain what they do. I’m already taking suicide drugs. Did she say how long this will take to work?”
My driver’s teeth clenched as she fought with her emotions. I couldn’t blame her for that. Trusting Jade was a leap on a good day.
“F-five or ten minutes. Maybe less, maybe more, but...they will work. I don’t think Mags understood what she’d suggested. Everypony has just been telling her the pills will make you ‘play’ dead.”
“Crusader, am I right to understand your intention is to commit suicide in front of these creatures?” Firebrand asked, tucking her wings back against her bulk. “Is that why you left behind the anti-magic armor?”
“Only if it comes to that. I’d rather not, honestly, but at worst, it’ll throw them off the trail. That reminds me.” I tugged my coat sleeve back from my leg, revealing the glittering surface of my revolver. Unsnapping the trigger, I slid it free and turned to Swift. “I’m giving you this, freely, and of my own volition. Keep it safe for me, would you? I will be back for it.”
Swift looked down at my gun with wide eyes. “S-Sir! They’re going to be able to see you with the Scry! Besides, isn’t this for your family?”
“You are my family, kid,” I replied, putting my hoof over her heart. Tears gathered in her eyes, and she swallowed several times very quickly. “Besides, if these things stopped operating as quick as that, it would have died last time I went on vacation and left it in the apartment for a couple weeks. Bones said this should work, but whatever you do, don’t use the damn thing unless there are no other options.”
My partner gulped and hugged my weapon to her breast, folding her huge wings in tight against herself.
“I don’t like the idea of you going out there unarmed, Hardy,” Taxi complained, her tail lashing against her scarred hips. “Could you at least take the shotgun?”
“Believe me, I’d love to go down ‘guns blazing’, but if we’re going to pull this off, the best method is for them to think I’m dead. Stella gave me a few extra little party tricks to sell it, and if I don’t have to take the drugs, I won’t, but—”
The roof hatch banged open, and a flustered Scarlet, his golden mane flying, sailed up the steps onto the gravel surface, skidding to a stop in front of me. He was breathing heavily and sweat was streaming down his sides. Wiping his forehead, he raised one foreleg, then hesitated before setting it back down. His knees shook as he wheezed for breath, a look of quiet desperation on his face.
I doubt he’d thought through what he was going to say or do after his little jog, but I could put together well enough what’d happened; somepony’d told him I was leaving on a suicide mission, again. For a few seconds, he just stood there, his eyes leaking frightened tears.
He looked so pathetic I couldn’t bring myself to let him stew. I stepped close and pressed my chest against him, rubbing my muzzle into his slick, damp mane. He sobbed, taking this as permission to throw his legs around me as tightly as his slight frame would allow.
“Y-you’re not going to die again, are you? Please, please don’t die out there!” he moaned. “Not after...not after we...I...I couldn’t—”
“I’m not planning on my death, Scarlet. It’s an option. There are many, and this one isn’t permanent. We’ll make it happen if it has to happen. Just have medical ready to flush my system out in the event things get hairy out there.”
He nodded, taking a step back and cupping my cheek with his hoof. “I’ll hook up the first I.V. bag myself.” A grin full of mischief sprung up on his face, and he added, “Probably right beside Miss Lily Blue. She’s desperately in love with you—”
I gently cuffed him on the shoulder. “Lily’s smart enough to know loving somepony like me is dangerous.”
Scarlet snickered and adjusted the brim of my hat with his toe. “Thank goodness I’m stupid, then. If she ever decides to be stupid, too, I’ll make sure she knows you like having your ears nibbled.”
That earned him a smile and another bop, before I turned back to Firebrand and lifted the duffle-bag. The dragoness took it and slung the bloody thing over one of her shoulders, shifting the weight around until it wouldn’t drag at her wings.
“Are you prepared, Crusader?”
“No, but we’ve got to go anyway,” I replied, then turned to my partner, who was a bundle of nervous energy, her wingtips twitching like she longed to take off and follow. “Swift? You and Tourniquet keep them safe. If I fail, you evacuate everyone you can to Supermax. Have her see if there’s some way of contacting Mephitica and The Bull, or talk to Gypsy about storing some more ponies in the File Cloud. Maybe we can find another world to live on. I don’t know. Do something.”
Swift nodded, putting my revolver into her front pocket. “If...If you don’t survive, Sir, I promise, I’ll find a way to bring back the sun.”
Instead of replying, I pulled the gag out, shoved the thing in my muzzle, cinched up the strap to hold it in place, then backed up against Firebrand. Her mighty claws wrapped around my waist, and she spread her giant wings. My heart began to pound in my throat, and my hooves left the roof of the Vivarium.
Time to fly.
----
“I...I guess I’m starting to understand how you ended up making this deal. I still think it’s a terrible idea, but then, Equestria is bigger than Detrot.”
“When you’re getting your hooves bloody, then you can make these decisions. Right now, I’m the one making them. Every day is one more reason to wonder if the world is even worth saving. You can thank Scarlet for reminding me it is, if you ever meet him.”
“That stallion deserves a medal.”
“I think he’d settle for being petted and told he’s a good boy.”
“If it was you doing the petting, I’m sure he would.”
“Eh, he’s not that picky…”
----
Howling into an enchanted ball gag helped the volume, but adrenaline and fear were impossible to fight as I stared, wide-eyed, at the city coasting by under my swinging hooves.
You’d think for somebody who’d died a few times, it wouldn’t hold many terrors, but phobias aren’t rational or consistent; they just are. Fortunately, Firebrand had a good grip and the trip wasn’t terribly long. Still, seeing the city from above was disheartening. Nearly all of the streets were empty, and I saw only a few ponies moving furtively from building to building, no doubt in search of scarce supplies. In the darkened landscape, lit only by the ruddy red of the eclipse, I could almost imagine the city opening its great, blood-soaked mouth to pluck me from the air. This didn’t help my panic levels.
Several weeks without food was enough that most ponies had long ago started rationing their supplies, but starvation was sure to have set in. Belt tightening is one thing, but I hadn’t kept more than maybe a month worth of edibles in my apartment at any given time, much less two. How many ponies in rest homes had died already because they couldn’t get medication or magic to keep themselves alive?
Totting up the death toll was going to be the work of years.
Mercy, the ticking of my internal clock was giving my worries. How long did we have left? An hour and a half? It couldn’t be more than 10 minutes to my parents’ house, presuming I still had a dragon to carry me. I sincerely hoped my earlier estimate of a half hour ride each way on the tram was sorely pessimistic.
Fortunately, Taxi’s directions were good and, after what I estimated to be about eight minutes flight time, we coasted in for a landing near the ancient junk shop under which was hidden the entrance to the Warehouse’s secret tracks.
To be clear, I didn’t even feel the ground under my hooves as Firebrand set me on the pavement just inside the alleyway; my brain had shut down and I was left standing there, quivering, half-frozen tears on my face, ball gag covered in drool, and my bladder begging to be emptied. There’s a spectrum of fear, and I’d fallen off the far end of it. It would have been nice if Gale had stepped in during that mess, but I suspected he was saving power for what was to come.
“Crusader, you may take off that gag, now,” the dragoness growled, prodding me in the back.
Raising a quaking leg, I fiddled with the sex toy until I found the button to release it, quickly wiping my muzzle on the back of my leg.
“Can I have a moment’s privacy?” I asked, in a voice that barely hid a quiver.
“So long as you take it quickly. Both of our friends are in danger. My squad remains at the strange brothel, and their deaths would end my search for our eggs until I can recruit more specialists.”
“Believe me, this is essential,” I replied, then trotted deeper into the alley and behind a dumpster.
----
“What did you do with your moment of privacy? Commune with your magical heart? Call the Vivarium to let them know you’d arrived?”
“What do you think I did? I peed all over the wall, screamed myself raw, then banged my head on the brickwork until it bled all over the inner lining of my hat.”
“Oh…”
“You sound surprised.”
“Not surprised, really, but maybe a little disappointed? I keep trying to ascribe some planning or strategy to the things you do, but you’re just sort of...silly. Didn’t it occur to you that somepony might have heard you having this fit?”
“Of course, but a sweat-soaked, bloody, psychotic stallion wandering the streets with a twitchy, heavily armed draconic commando is not exactly an enticing target for muggers.”
“That’s true, but at some point, you will have to see a psychologist, and I don’t know how you’ll explain this to them.”
“I thought that was what you were.”
“Hardy, I am a frightened bystander praying the pony juggling the TNT and puppies knows what he’s doing...”
----
I stumbled down the stairwell, my forehead aching as I drew in foul droughts of the mildewed air and tried to organize my mind.
The Warehouse monitored the tram line, right? They’d know I was there. I really wished I’d thought to figure out a means of calling Cereus or Night Bloom before I’d left, but Princess Twilight had confiscated the magical walkie-talkie back in the ruins of Ponyville.
‘Note to self: get that walkie-talkie so I can call Miss Fussy Britches,’ I thought, glancing up at the tiled roof of the tunnel leading down into the station. Leaning on the wall, I swallowed and looked back up the stairs toward where Firebrand stood, peering in at me as she held the trap door open with one claw.
“Are you sure you do not wish me to follow, Crusader?” she asked.
“No! Wait there! If I’m not back in an hour, go help with the evacuation at the Vivarium, alright?”
“As you say,” she replied, then cocked her head. “Do you think you are likely to be back in the next ten minutes? I hear a cat nearby, and I am most hungry.”
“Probably not, but...wait, what? No, never mind! I don’t want to know! I’ll be fine! Be back in an hour!” I called back.
The door above banged shut, leaving me in near-total darkness as I listened to the dragon’s steps on the pavement, retreating through the abandoned building. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a flashlight and flicked it on. The circle of harsh, white light reflected off the filthy tilework as I stuck the end of the torch in my mouth, steadied myself, and began trotting down the steps.
The tramway was little more than a platform with the tracks running alongside it to a sealed gate at both ends. A few hobos might have once called it home, but they’d long since abandoned the place. That or there were measures in place to keep them out.
As I reached the bottom, lights began to sputter on overhead, and a disguised speaker spat a squeal that had me scrambling for a gun that wasn’t there. Damn spooky subways.
“Detective? Detective Hard Boiled, is that you?!” a heavily distorted, but noticeably masculine voice asked.
“It’s me, Cereus!” I yelled back. “Turn your volume down! You’re going to deafen me here!”
“Right. Sorry. Is that better?”
“Yes! Look, Cereus, I need you to get your flank down here and get me. No time to explain, but—”
“Tram incoming in five seconds! Oh Celestia, Detective, I need you here now! Something has happened to Agent Bloom!”
My jaw moved a little bit, but I didn’t have time to respond before one of the gates at the end of the hall slammed inward and the mine-cart-like tram burst through at a speed unheard of and screeched to a stop beside the platform almost faster than I could blink. A golden glow surrounded the passenger compartment.
“Hurry, Detective! I’ll bring you in as fast as I can! The inertial dampener spell is fussy, but it should work for at least another minute or two!”
Shutting my eyes, I jumped into the tram and threw myself into the back, pulling my coat over my head.
“Fussy better mean ‘completely functional’, Cereus, or I swear—”
“Departure in five seconds!”
A brilliant gleam wrapped itself around me, leaving my body feeling incredibly light and somehow more aware of exactly how squishy all of my organs would be if they were to hit a wall at the speed the cart had been going when it arrived.
“Departure! Keep your head down, Detective!”
From above, I heard a noise that sounded like a howling wolf being blasted out of a cannon into a mountain of watermelons, then felt a gentle breeze past my ears. Overhead, flashing lights appeared and vanished at a rate that suggested they were every few inches apart. A primal, sixth sense told me I was moving somewhat faster than was probably healthy and that all that was keeping me alive was the fragile framework of the loudly rattling cart and spells which might or might not date back to the war. It’s fortunate, then, that I’d already burned up all my remaining adrenaline with the trip out.
With another shriek of the brakes, I felt a light pressure on my chest, and then the light winked out and all at once I was thrown into the front of the cart, slamming muzzle first into the wall.
Cereus’s apologetic voice came from somewhere nearby. “Sorry, Detective! Finicky inertial dampeners. You’re here, though, and that was really fast, wasn’t—”
“Shud’up! Shud’up, I swear! Jusd shud’ up you dupid bad!” I snarled, holding my bleeding nose with both front hooves.
“I’m a d-dusk pony…”
It took me some moments to recover, sitting in the bottom of the minecart. I knew the clock was running out, but you try being proactive with a busted face. I figured the magic tram had bought me some time to feel sorry for myself.
Wincing, I smeared most of the blood off my upper lip on my sleeve, then warily got to my hooves. Improbable as it felt, I was sitting in the arrival station of the Warehouse with Agent Cereus dancing on all four hooves on the platform like he needed a wizz and couldn’t find the bathroom.
It couldn’t have been more than a minute or two, could it? Would that we’d had a subway with that technology; my morning commutes wouldn’t have left me smelling like incense every morning. That being said, if it were something the world would benefit from, why had it ended up in the Warehouse?
These and many other thoughts were interrupted as I felt a pair of legs slide under mine and haul me bodily out of the cart.
“Hey! Hey, I can walk just fine!” I snapped, struggling out of his grasp to drop heavily onto the platform.
“Please! Detective, you have to come!” Cereus squeaked, his voice rising to an almost inaudible pitch as he landed beside me. “It happened just an hour ago, but she said she wouldn’t open the door unless it was you and I don’t know what to do because I thought I got rid of all the booze but maybe she found some and her voice sounded really strange!”
“Inhale, exhale, and give me a five count of those, Agent,” I said, putting a hoof on his heaving barrel as he stared at me with wide eyes. His teeth were chattering and his wings were nervously spasming against his muscled sides, sending up little whorls of dust.
With a weak nod, he started taking deep, gasping breaths. It took about ten before his pupils returned to their normal size.
“S-sorry, Detective,” he panted. “It’s just...I...I don’t know what went wrong! Agent Bloom was...she was doing better. The detox was rough, but when Princess Twilight called us, she locked herself in a cell until it was out of her system. She was even kinda back to her normal self for a bit there, which I guess means shouting at me a lot, but it was better than this.”
Much as I wanted to rush him, a panicked pony is an unhelpful pony.
“Better than what, Cereus?” I asked.
“Better than...than whatever just happened!” he replied, his yellow eyes flashing with fear. “I don’t know! She told me she’d been having bad dreams, but an hour ago she was asleep and seemed like she was alright! All of a sudden she bolts upright and charges into secure storage and slams the door and locks it! Then I heard a lot of screaming and...and then nothing. Then she...she used the intercom in there and...and said I had to bring you or...or else!”
“Or else what?”
“I didn’t get that far! I heard the alarm for the tram and then you were there and—”
I pushed him to one side and headed for the archway deeper into the Warehouse. “Fine, fine! I’ll deal with it. Point me toward this secure storage area, then go get a sandwich.” I thought for a moment. “Actually, get two sandwiches. Agent Bloom might not have eaten. Oh! And go get the Helm of Nightmare Moon. I don’t know where you stuck it, but I need it back—”
Cereus bit his lip, and his ears pinned down to the sides of his head. “It’s...it’s in secure storage, Detective.”
“Of course it is!” I snarled, yanking my bloody hat off and shoving it at Cereus. “While you’re getting the sandwiches, clean this.”
“I-is that your b-blood?” he asked.
“If it wasn’t, would it matter? Clean! Spotless! Now, make with the directions! We’re short of time, here!”
----
“Oh Cereus… Do you think he’s going to be alright, once this is all over? Poor guy.”
“I have no idea. He’s about as innocent as Swift was when she puked down my neck over Ruby Blue’s body, and I don’t think either of us would claim my partner is anything like ‘alright’. Still, he’ll be able to make a fine washcolt if his other prospects fall through, presuming the world doesn’t freeze.”
“What do you mean?”
“My hat came back absolutely sparkling.”
----
I trotted through the Warehouse, the ancient gem-lights flickering overhead. Cereus had apparently made some effort to clean the place up and most of the shelves had been dusted, but that didn’t help the general sense of decay about the place. Shelf upon shelf of wooden boxes or crudely nailed together bins were full of all manner of electronic junk, hidden away from the eyes of the world in the hope somepony would either find a use for it or find a way of disposing of it, then quietly forgotten. It was almost sad.
Worse might be the possibility of the world never having the chance.
The image of poor Cereus, frozen to death while clinging to his feather-duster and Night Bloom’s body, flashed through my head.
‘Turn left at the corner, then right at the thing that looks like a giant clown nose. Do not touch the clown nose, or it may destroy everything for twenty kilometers in every direction,’ I thought, glancing up at the huge red orb hanging suspended in midair behind a fenced off area at the end of the row I was moving down.
There it was: Secure Storage.
In a place where the ‘Deadly Giant Clown Nose’ is kept in the open, Secure Storage was the sort of thing a pony doesn’t want to think too hard on the existence of.
The door was a sort of metal arch surrounding a slab of steel, painted in bright yellow stripes which spilled onto the floor with the words ‘Authorized Personnel Only’ in about twenty different languages alongside huge safety stickers plastered across the walls on either side. Even in a pit ponies generally threw things down to forget about them, it seemed a tad unnecessary, which said to me it’d probably been arranged by Princess Twilight Sparkle; security of the sake of security.
‘So, time to go kiss this lion,’ I thought, studying the stickers along the wall. One said ‘dismemberment likely’ while another had an illustrated planet exploding. Lovely.
Clenching my jaw, I stepped onto the yellow markings. When I was not suddenly killed after several moments, I exhaled and tapped my toe against the door.
“Ahem...Night Bloom? It’s Hard Boiled.”
There was a long pause, and then a feminine voice rattled from a speaker beside the door. It made every muscle in my back tense up, and I rose right up onto the tips of my toes like a spooked cat. Whoever it was, it didn’t sound like Agent Bloom.
“Touch the ‘talk’ button on the panel to your left, foolish creature,” the voice hissed, “I cannot hear you.”
My teeth chattering at the sensation of a whole heap of spiders crawling in my fur, I scooted over to the speaker and pressed a tiny pink button.
“Night Bloom? Hard Boiled here. Open up.”
Again, that voice; I wanted, more than anything, for her to stop talking. Every word was like weaponized heebie jeebies.
“Ah! It is you! Finally! I have only heard your voice until this glorious night, and I have waited for so very long! Do come in, Detective! Come in and let me see your face!”
On nearly silent rails and with only a whisper of shifting weights, the slab of steel slid upwards into the wall, revealing an inky swirl of something like fog filling the space beyond. It crept out across the floor for a few seconds, seeming to leech the light from overhead. I danced backwards, and the darkness suddenly slurped away into the room, like water down a drain. It left behind a sense of abiding dread and a fresh case of angry butterflies in my stomach.
‘So, bad news, then,’ I thought, shoving my hoof into the pocket of my jacket. I don’t know what I was searching for in there; jelly beans, or maybe a gun. Either way, I didn’t find it. What I did find was Ruby Blue’s diary. I traced the gems on the cover, then exhaled.
‘Are you really going to do this, Hardy? Are you really going to go in the room with the creepy voice and what may or may not be a possessed mare? Are you really that stupid?’
Of course, I am exactly as stupid as that.
Throwing out my chest, I scraped up what was left of my resolve and stomped into the void. Overhead, a few dimly glowing, ancient gem-lights provided a hint of illumination, but none pierced the dense fog deeply enough to let me make out the edges of the room. Shadows moved a few meters away, which might have been swirls in the mist, or possibly demons readying for a pounce. Hard to say, really.
“I’m here, Agent Bloom. You want to shut off whatever is making the special effects, so we can talk?”
I waited for a reply, feeling the sweat bead on my neck and thighs.
From off to my left, close enough that I swear I felt her breath on my neck, the voice whispered, “Interesting, little stallion.”
Wrestling the urge to jump into shape, I casually swiveled my head about to see what was there. Of course, there was nothing there.
Trying not to sound half so scared as I was, I grumbled, “Look, I’m on a deadline. Whoever this is, you invited me in. That means you have my attention. I’d rather not go back out there and have Cereus flood the room with tear gas, but—”
Her voice cut me off, this time seeming to come from all directions at once and shaking the very air with its power.
“There is no tear gas in this facility, little pony! The foolish thestral is washing your hat, and your threats are as empty as your fate! This has all been foreseen! Now...come forth!”
With that, a mighty wind swept out of nowhere, almost sending me into a flying roll as I struggled to keep my hooves. My coat billowed out around me, and I stumbled sideways as the fog lifted within seconds, leaving my eyes watering and blurry. On muscle memory alone, I kicked a forehoof and made to snap at the air, then realized my trigger bit wasn’t there to catch.
Backing toward where I thought the door was, I scrubbed at my face, trying to clear my vision as I waited for somepony to slip a shiv into my spine.
‘Breathe. She’s trying to scare you.’
‘She’s succeeding, dammit!’
Fighting every instinct in my body, I raised my head and forced my burning eyes open. In retrospect, this was only the third worst mistake I’d made that day.
The room was like a garage sale in Tartarus.
A dozen low tables, each with a wire-mesh cage atop it and big enough for a good sized dog to comfortably occupy, were lined up along both walls. Every one of them was occupied by some arcane object that practically radiated sinister power: a fluttering collection of tiny books with sharp little teeth, a brazier full of what looked like living eyeballs, a defleshed face that dribbled a thin stream of blood from each eye, and many, many others I didn’t have time nor desire to look at any more closely.
To crown it all, sitting at the head of the room on a comfortable looking blue pillow, was Agent Night Bloom. She’d seen better days, if I’m honest.
What I could see of her dark grey face in the dim light was smeared with tears, but her fanged muzzle was twisted into a delighted grin. Around her hooves, a writhing cloud of something like living darkness was teasing my eye, refusing to coalesce into a coherent shape. Her mane was a mess of knotted fur, with spots and stains from fetlocks to knees. Her leathery wings appeared to be bleeding from a dozen tiny holes, the blood pooling around her hooves as she smiled at me with all-powerful malice.
Worst of all, the Helm of Nightmare Moon sat upon her head, hooking down over her pointed ears. While the hole for a unicorn’s horn was empty, a wisp of light still flickered inside it. I could see the muscles in her neck straining and stretching, as though the helm were much heavier than it looked, her veins popping with inner tension.
I tried to find some saliva for my suddenly parched throat.
“Who...who am I addressing?” I asked, fighting to suppress a squeak at the end there.
Bloom’s breath hissed out through her teeth as she took a step closer, along with a bit of that cloying fog. When she spoke, it was that voice again; deeper, richer, and far more intimidating than the mare’s usual testy tone. Worse, her lips didn’t seem to be moving.
“You know who…” She paused, and then her expression hardened. “Say my name, creature.”
My muzzle moved without my volition.
“Y-you’re Nightmare Moon…”
----
“There it was. I’d said it, and I couldn’t take it back. Somehow, just having the words out there in the world made it much, much more real. I don’t know. The stories I’d heard of her since I was a foal never really did her justice. The mare who is the source of all our bad dreams.”
“Actually, she’s not. She’s just a parasitic organism which latched onto Princess Luna’s jealousy and transformed her into—”
“Look, I don’t know what press release you read, but whatever this was, this thing came from the damn hat. Agent Bloom put it on, and it nearly killed both of us.”
“I…”
“Just...let me finish. Right here is where everything started to get weird.”
----
“W-why are you taking control of Agent Bloom?”
“In short? Because you have no fate, stallion,” she rasped. “You are a vessel for destiny, and now...destiny has come.”
Shutting my eyes, I scrambled to reassemble a bit of my usual grit.
‘Sound cocky, keep her talking, see if Cereus notices the situation and has some kind of de-possession gun somewhere in the building.’
“You know, you’re not the first person...thing...to say that to me recently. If the goal is intimidation here, you’re going to find I’m mostly an alcoholic with lots of anger issues and a best friend who eat—”
“I did not rise to bandy words, little stallion!” she snapped. “You have only seconds, now! The moment will arrive soon! Put on the helm!”
I blinked at her, then stepped back.
“Ah...right. That’s way up on the list of things that are never going to happen.”
I expected a certain vengeful fury, or for her to attack me, but all I got was a slight widening of that irritatingly self-satisfied smile.
“Well, then. I do not need this mare’s body to be alive to take you. Before I peel that pitiful little mind open like an egg, you can watch her die.”
With that, Night Bloom’s eyes snapped open, and she let out a strangled gasp, collapsing on the floor, her legs wheeling at the air. “H-Hardy! Hard Boiled! G-go! Get out! She can k-kill everypony! She’s in my head! Oh Celestia, it hurts!”
Blood spurted from her nose and tear ducts, spilling down her cheeks.
My resolve wavered as I saw the look in her eyes, and I flashed back again, to that picture of her corpse, frozen alongside poor Cereus. Was I really willing to let this mare die to save myself? If she took control of me, what would it change? I couldn’t carry the helm with it being worn by the zombified corpse of Agent Bloom as it tried to tear my head off. Even with Cereus there, I doubted we could take an undead without some weapons and I hadn’t planned for this particular eventuality.
At worst, they could shoot me, get the hat off, stick it in a deep, dark hole, and then—
Then what? The Vivarium was still going to burn in a matter of hours. No way to prevent that, right?
All of this zipped through my mind at the speed of thought as Bloom’s voice grew strangled and she began to cough up thick streams of blood onto my hooves.
“Alright!” I snapped, throwing my coat off. “Alright! Stop it! I’ll do it, dammit! Stop hurting her!”
At that, Night Bloom’s eyes twinkled, then she sat up and began casually wiping her muzzle clean. Her nose was still dripping, but it was down to a trickle.
“There we go, little stallion,” the Nightmare purred, spitting a wad of bloody phlegm to one side as she got to her hooves. “Even a pony like you can be predicted, given time. And my time has arrived. Kneel. Here.”
The creature possessing my friend forced one of Bloom’s legs up and pointed at the floor in front of her.
Dragging my hooves, I slowly made my way forward. My mind was racing for a solution; a solution besides committing suicide. I could down those pills, right? Of course, that presumed she couldn’t just control my cadaver. She’d said something about that, hadn’t she?
‘Think, Hardy. Think! There has got to be a way out of this. You put that helmet on, there’s nothing stopping her from killing everypony!’
So, why hadn’t she? And why hadn’t the Nightmare already killed Agent Bloom? I was in no shape to fight an undead in straight hoof-to-hoof. What was her goal?
I was missing something vital, and my answer might be in that helm. Of course, global oblivion might also be in that helm. No good options. Death on all sides.
‘Gale?’ I thought. ‘If you can hear me and there’s anything you can do or if this looks like it’s going sideways, you’ve got to stop her…’
I felt a soft tickle of assurance from my chest, then shut my eyes and stumbled forward onto my front legs. Lowering my head, I growled, “I’ve watched enough friends die. We do this, you just take my body and get out, alright?”
A hoof touched the underside of my chin, and I raised my eyes to look into the face of fear itself.
“If you cooperate, I will allow those inside this building to leave, so long as they do not defy me. Agreed?”
I yanked my head away from her touch. “Yes, yes...just...just do it, dammit! Don’t make me think about it any more!”
I heard a shifting about above me, followed by a soft squeak of pain, which I presumed was the helm popping off of Night Bloom’s head. Then I felt it, sliding down over my skull. It was colder than ice, cold as the depths of space, cold as perfect revenge. It felt like somepony had just dropped a truck tire around my neck. Then my vision went black, leaving me stranded in a place where there was no sensation, neither sound nor light.
A string of bright green symbols, glowing with eldritch fire, appeared in the corner of my vision, then gradually morphed into recognizable letters.
Rom Check… Success!
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wut
"It may be a tomorrow, it may be next week"
"It may be tomorrow, it may be next week"?
Or, alternatively:
"It may not be tomorrow, it may not be next week"?
I think that that one with the reversed meaning of the sequence makes the sentence better, but I don't know if you'll agree.
Still enjoying this story, still thinking things are simpler than they look. Still grateful your writing it. Thank you.
8454287
Ditto
Is nightmare moon a computer program??
Now we hope it wasn't a tire full of gasoline and about to be ignited.
Lots and lots of super psycho death dealers, and not allowed to remove Chicago from the map, or break the Eclipse by taking a chunk off the edge of the moon?
The Gods are starting to walk?
Green text? Oh thats Old.
Then again, if his vision had flashed a sequence of muted colours, people wouldve seriously complained about him getting total OP when Aunt Lorraine came calling.
8454655 Dunno! Read next chapter!
8454501 Things are actually way more complicated than they look...
8454287 That was my response, yes.
-Chessie
8454717
8454655
There is a fate worse than death I suppose
Wasn't the time skip between Acts 2 and 3 only a week? Where did "two months" come from all of a sudden?
8454982
You think Nightmare MoonOS is bad.
Aunty Lorraine was supposed to run CaOS.
The stop gap replacement code, running under emulation on a PC, runs the software faster than the equivalent code, natively on the host.
... MAME?!
On reflection, though, Hardy's probably being shown some images from both his and Gale's past, which is probably going to confuse the hell out of all three or four of them until he finally breaks free of Nightmare Moon's little effort to control him, probably with no actual time perceived by the others.
8455074 You're right. It's been a few weeks since the actual event, but not that long. I corrected the line.
8455224 You're not giving your writer enough credit for being weird...
-Chessie
8455277
Act 3, Chapter 1 explicitly said it'd been a week since Canterlot had disappeared. If it's now several weeks, was there another time skip between then and now that I missed?
8455277
You're probably right, though I should warn you ahead of time, I will be sorely disappointed if this imbroglio doesn't end in a kill screen.
No, not really, but if you have the opportunity to make a kill-screen reference...
8455397 There's been a lot of days in between. Rests, chill outs, periods where the characters had to relax, times Hardy crashed or spent dead. It's been about three weeks, maybe a little less.
-Chessie
wat? oh come on.. why do i get the impression that Tourniquet was created using data gleaned from nightmare moons armor? it would explain one hell of a lot...
8455519 Admit it, you were surprised!
-Chessie
8454941
"That was my response, yes."
Wait, I know that that was about my response, but this came as a surprise to the author too? :D
Ah, sorry for missing the timeline thing.
(Oh, and did you miss my previous comment, with a potential error spotting for the opening italics text?)
Dayum
8454982
Well, I had been hoping that Lily and Hardy would get together, but it's looking increasingly like Scarlet and Hardy will pair up. Although Scarlet doesn't seem to mind that Lily is into Hardy, maybe there is a chance of some kind of three way arrangement, maybe?
Also, Swift was as cute as ever. Her reaction to Hardy calling her his family was wonderful.
8455538 Fixed, because derp.
8455635 As the story has progressed, I wanted more than anything for the characters to keep their personalities intact. I've seen and read too many stories where characters experience trauma and 'lose themselves', but that's mostly a byproduct of the author's changing psychology over a period of years. Being as this has only been a few months in story time, I had to be VERY careful to maintain their ways of thinking.
-Chessie
8455635
Honestly, I think both HB×Scarlet and HB×Lily have same rating in my heart.
What I'm disappointed at, is that Juniper turned out to be object of his love. It's sad to see "there's no such thing as close friends" assumptions confirmed.
8455669 Ponies are dying by the thousands in the oncoming icy-hell of a world without a sun!...but yeah, Scarlet X Hardy or Hardy X Lily are both options. There are close friends, though. Hardy isn't having sex with Limerence or Taxi. I mean...yet.
-Chessie
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alright all right you got me....
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Hardy x Taxi would be almost as gross as Hardy x Swift. I feel like Hardy and Taxi have a 'disgruntled big brother / annoying little sister' sort of vibe, and it would be a true shame to mess that up with romance. Plus, Taxi has way too much fun swinging around; it'd never work.
I could definitely see Limerence and Taxi hooking up for a while, though. There have been odder couples.
Hey, Chessie?
You do know that EVERY SINGLE TIME I get to the end of one of your chapters, I stop, blink, re-read the last few sentences, recall some tiny and seemingly-insignificant details from a dozen or more chapters ago, and exclaim "Son of a BITCH!", right?
Because that is exactly what has just occurred.
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In hindsight, which is a phrase I am getting VERY used to in this story, it does sort of make sense, doesn't it?
8456022 Eh, Taxi and Hardy is almost a given. Those two aren't exactly independent people anymore, if they ever were. They certainly haven't been since childhood. Any girlfriend/boyfriend of Hardy's is going to have to acknowledge that they play second fiddle to Taxi and be okay with that.
-Chessie
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?
I am afraid I do not quite get that reference...
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Dont worry, its a horribly obscure reference to what effectively seems to be a segment of excised history that Im sure I keep seeing referenced in the show itself. A true AU.
Okay, so I've come back from a tiring week and it seems I'm a little late for the release of this chapter, and it's been a little while since I've last read this fic too. I've got so many thoughts running through my head from this chapter that it's taking me a while to try and make everything coherent. Guess I'm making another analysis again...what can I say? It's fun.
So, first off, is the huge swarm DW just pulled out of his pants. We finally know what he was doing with all the people he invited into Uptown, so there's that mystery solved. Almost all pony-like figures though, surely there would have been a few Griffons and Zebras and so on in there? Perhaps that's where the extra body parts came from, but then again, such a rushed creation of biters making such a...messy...product seems uncharacteristically careless on his end. The Family has had months/years to transform those in PACT but the number of weeks that's passed since act 3 started isn't that short either considering the progress Swift made while Hardy was in hibernation mode post-heart transplant. Maybe it's because of complications made from unwilling subjects? I'm not able to make much of a guess either way at this point.
Considering the numbers though, the ruling class and elite and richy-rich snobs would definitely have the disadvantage on the numbers side if that's really where all these extra biters came from, that's how economies tend to work. 'Course that doesn't really matter, seeing how combat effective even a single biter is, and it's not like the lower classes immediately banded together anyways - a good portion of the population will have to be considered dead from all the chaos that's happened already. I'll have to concede that there's no way any of the enclaves would last with how much of a morale hit they'd cause. Actually, I'd consider that the biters' greatest advantage.
Didn't expect Nightmare Moon to turn up either, now that's a twist. I mean, I expected her to turn up eventually, but not so soon, and certainly not in this manner. From what little happened she does seem like a separate party from The Family and DW, not really into the whole "Pony purity" thing and more pure megalomania. I'd have thought she'd be the one pulling the strings higher up, or directly under DW in some way, powering the Dark Web maybe, I dunno. With how the goal of getting the full set of NMM armor has been for most of the story, it just seemed like something grander was in the works, but maybe that's why the helm and completing the full set was so important? The head's where the consciousness is, if the helm was all that was missing perhaps the rest of the pieces would've been relatively useless for the grand plan.
Just feels like a real surprise to have her pop up like that. I mean, Nightmare Moon before you, completely and fully possessing another pony , one you know? Scary shit. But is it really? From how I read it, it seemed like Agent Bloom didn't go crazy until she did something with the helmet, and it didn't get as bad as it was till she was in the same room as it. The thing has some telepathic temptations I suppose, and with how unhinged Bloom has been I don't doubt NMM could've influenced her from a distance, especially after such time. Nightmare Moon, possesses people, Agent Bloom drunk herself silly, probably spent a lot of time sleeping? I can see how it could happen. Wonder why Hardy didn't feel anything as bad though, his mental state was in a worse position for much longer than Bloom, though he did have some help.
Plus she wanted Hardy to physically put the helm on his head, she could very well have been bluffing. But I suppose after all the shit Hardy's been through sacrificing another life just isn't an option. Even after being brought back from the brink of total collapse, the stallion will still need to heal a nuke's worth of mental stresses. Perhaps several.
And on the romance topic
I can't help it, it's really interesting to see how much development Hardy & Scarlet have had these few chapters. No more rushed than Lily Blue's I'd say, but desperate times do tend to make emotions run high. No real strong opinion right now, just interested in seeing how things play out, because while Scarlet and Lily are the strongest for an immediate relationship, the flames that burn the hottest do burn the fastest...usually. I'd also say that Lily Blue seems like enough of a down-to-earth gal that sharing (or taking turns) would be an option. And after all the shit Taxi and Hardy have been through - I don't doubt it's love - it just doesn't feel like the same kind of love to me. Not the satin sheets and scattered rose petals kind, where the bed doesn't stop creaking till the neighbours file a noise complaint. Besides, if they tried anything Hardy would have to add "death by snu snu" to his list.It was really sweet to see Swift and Hardy interact like they did, even if it was just for a moment. She's really accepted who she is now, magic mind-meld with carnivorous diet and all. Makes me think, Hardy could be adopted into the Cuddles family after all this, and he sorta needs a new home anyways. (There's still The Nest) They've already started on the affectionate threats. All that's left now is for Hardy to receive an ugly but well knitted sweater for Hearth's Warming and it'll be like Harry Potter and the Weasleys. Or...Hardy Boiled and the Cuddles? (bleh)
Looking forward, I find myself really anticipating the endgame more than anything else, not even the confrontation between DW and Hardy (and NMM?) , with the villain monologue it'll inevitably include. I want to know about what happens to Taxi and Limerence and Swift and all the cast, the what-will-be's if Hardy quits at that crucial moment, the what-can-be's if Hardy takes the other option. Most especially I want to learn about Juniper, too. He's real, despite what Hardy currently believes, and he's been curiously absent as of late.
Needless to say, Chessie, you've still got me excited.
...what is this, Windows 95?
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I have this barmy picture in my head of Luna and Celestia refusing to use anything more complex than an abacus (or slip-stick) out of fear of AI like nmOS, having lived through several Butlerian Jihads in their long lives.
Really?
God damn it! IO thought leaving this place alone for a few months would allow me to end on a chapter without a massive cliffhanger... but I was sadly mistaken... Check mate my friend... checkmate
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Nope, not at all the same. Taxi and Hardy are at least nominally the same age, and about as close as you can get without being blood relations and know pretty much all of each other's secrets. The only real argument would be that they don't fancy each other that way. Based on the author's writing thus far Taxi not being terribly monogamous is the least difficulty, more likely that her talent would interfere somehow. Imho there hasn't really been any brother, sister vibe since well the whole story. Hardy x Swift wouldn't really be gross per se so much a huge age gap, case of hero worship, etc. It probably just wouldn't work out well and there's really nothing going on between them story wise as far as I can tell, whereas there are lots of sort of tender moments with Taxi. It'd be a little like Twilestia, having the hots for your teacher/mentor and all the included baggage. Besides he'd have to share with Tourniquet...
What the hell was Luna up to exactly? Did she like build herself an interface for interacting with something nasty from elsewhere? I have to say if the author pulls a Lovecraftian/Cthulu crossover out of his ass, it will be very disappointing. Real pony caused bad stuff is way more interesting, like the guns...
If there isn't major rework in the pipe something strange is afoot. After all they sort of knocked off Astral Skylark (or whatever her name was). Yet at the moment, that seems entirely tangential and unrelated, yet it has to tie in somehow since the helm is involved. I also doubt NMM intends to be subservient here... What the heck do DW/The Family want exactly? I see means to an end here, but eternal night and the death of everything doesn't seem particularly useful. It's almost like a bunch of people doing different things played into the hooves of at least two different parties....
I somehow doubt that Hardy putting the helmet on was in the plans, but at this point everything's just too tangled up to say.
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I don't think so, or at least not exactly. It's either a channel for something else or maybe a neural net kind of thing. My guess would that the "parasite" being referred to is inside or at least affected the armor's systems somehow. Clearly the helmet is pretty advanced tech/magic, but I imagine it was meant to be a tool. Remember, Luna was wearing it when she returned. Given what the crusaders apparently did to magical tech, Luna having created it herself or in conjunction with some other ponies doesn't seem impossible.
8467296 I can at least assure you that the story I came up with is, to my knowledge, completely original (aside being a My Little Pony story) and the motivations of the antagonists are drawn from a source that, if you know anything about me, you will never see coming.
-Chessie
So. I just finished binge reading this whole fic.
Awesome. Just, wow. So. Much. Awesome <3
This is the difference between people that just write stories and real story tellers :)
With that out of the way, every time I think about this fic, this song comes to mind, so I'm gunna share with you some Overkill <3
8469836 I promise, it'll be done soon and then people can read it from end to end! SO MUCH STUFF TO DO STILL! I love you guys.
-Chessie
God this story somehow manages to weird me out with each new chapter.
So.... This reality is a simulation and Hardy has no fate because he is the Player Character?
Well. I just reread this story, and holy cow, I think it was better the second time through. So many little hints are picked up and tied together, and its really impressive, especially considering its been written by the seat of your pants.
I had an absolute fit when I looked up the translation of Diamante Voluntuas' name Which happens to be Diamond Wish, or D. W. , and his monologue at the police ball was much more chilling for it.
I also suspect that Nightmare Moon is NOT in league with D. W. and the Family, which is why she influenced Ruby Blue to seek out Hardy and so desperately wants him to wear the helm. She pretty much has to be the person Hardy makes a foolish deal with, and with Night Bloom incapacitated, that means that it is likely that Twilight is the one performing the interview from the last chapter, unless its the reporter.
hey, I caught up on the story again!
I don't think I have any friends who would starve in the streets with me.
I can think of a few movies that would be improved by removing 1/3 of them.
That sounds pretty gross, and yet still not as bad as Jade's poisoned beans.
Probably the same way he got magical tracking on every single person in the entire city. He's been storing up magical power for decades.
Motive is important, but compared to evidence, it's kinda down the list a ways. I mean, it's not like Hardy is going to bring DW in for a trial by jury. The Alicorn of Justice doesn't need a jury.
Awww, why not?
I see where you're going with this, Hardy - if you're recovering from exsanguination, you won't notice the dragon flight!
[strike]Fifth[/strike] Sixth time's the charm? Or are we up to seven? Do I hear eight?
Exist? I don't think Jade needs a reason to hate someone.
"What was Hardy's worst decision" sounds like a doctoral thesis a couple of years down the line.
I am now thoroughly looking forward to Swift turning Crusader and ripping a whole bunch of mutant monsters into teeny tiny pieces.
I don't know how well she'll take that advice....
Because every artifact comes with a downside.
Don't sell yourself short, Hardy- you're waaay stupider!
And all of them will shortly be rolling in your direction, Hardy.
Because everything before this had been so very normal?
But you should at least try, because just picture the look on DW's face when you throw a helm-wearing zombie batpony at him!
Alright, who replaced the helm with a PipBuck? But maybe Hardy will have VATS mode?
Ha!
Didn't someone call hardy wearing the armor at one point