//------------------------------// // Protect The Worst, To Protect Us All // Story: Hecate's Orphanage // by BlackRoseRaven //------------------------------// Chapter One Hundred and Two: Protect The Worst, To Protect Us All ~BlackRoseRaven Hecate stood in the meeting room with two very different ponies in front of her, and a third face grinning out of one of the screens mounted on the wall. Thorn was as stoic and serious as ever, while Cadence looked... tired, she thought. But for now, Hecate made them both wait as she asked calmly: “Cowlick, is the tower operational?” “The hell do you think I'm talking to you? Thanks, by the way, for sending an Orbiter here too. Because you know I sure like having a nuke floating around above my head. Not that your buddy seems to care all that much. Did you know the soul furnace runs on some kind of fission itself? Scarier than Hell. I mean that literally, too.” Cowlick absently rolled her unlit cigarette between her teeth, then she glanced back and shouted: “Hey, Rusty! Getting a bit of feedback, clarify the audio!” “Good. Finish setting up the Orbiter. I want all of our sites as secure as possible. Once that's complete, I'll be sending a security team and several engineers to assist in completing preparations. I expect you to brief and instruct them fully.” Hecate ordered, and Cowlick grumbled before she winced backwards when Hecate's eyes glowed, and the end of the engineer's cigarette burst into flame. “Do not disappoint me.” “You're even worse than Hel was.” Cowlick grumbled, but then she nodded before signing off. Hecate turned her eyes back to Cadence and Thorn: the ivory mare shifted uncomfortably, while the stallion only looked at her curiously, and after a moment Hecate said quietly: “With our communications uplink established in World Without End, we now not only have the means to stay in contact with one of our most powerful allies, but the base node to a broadcast network that will span across the entire universe. Orbiters are being set up to protect allied worlds, and worlds that Loki has shown a distinct interest in.” “Like the one we just came back from.” Cadence half-asked, and Hecate nodded, as the ivory mare shifted uncomfortably before she bit her lip. Hecate heard the question even if Cadence didn't speak it, answering: “ Yes, Cadence. We will be placing an Orbiter over what you refer to as your homeworld as well.” “Is that even a good idea? I mean... those are... what would they even really accomplish if Loki did attack?” Cadence asked before she could stop herself, before she smiled awkwardly and added: “I mean, I don't want to sound ungrateful, but-” “You often do.” Hecate interrupted, and Cadence winced and lowered her head before the Jötnar mare continued in a gentler voice: “But that is understandable, given the circumstances, as is your discomfort with this... 'equipment.' Yes, I hope that ultimately it isn't necessary. There will be massive collateral damage if an Orbiter is used. But a direct hit will be enough to stop even Loki.” Cadence shifted uncomfortably, clearly not convinced, but Hecate had already turned her attention to Thorn. “Did you compile all the information as I asked?” “Yes, Empress Hecate. I've also brought the Orbiter at Looking Glass World online and it has begun its first cycle, and I've ensured that Cancer is secure in his isolation habitat. He is ready for interrogation whenever you are.” Thorn said politely, and Hecate smiled thinly. Thorn always went above and beyond his duties. “Good. Now, since you won't just rest, Thorn, I want you in Central Command, helping oversee operations and testing our enhanced communication capabilities. I also require your attention on our more sensitive projects.” Hecate ordered, and Thorn nodded before the Jötnar mare suddenly leaned forwards and kissed his forehead, making the stallion blush slightly as she added gently: “And for my sake, Thorn, please find a bit of time to sleep, rest, and spend with your friends.” Thorn nodded slightly, and then he turned and quickly left the meeting room, Hecate giving the slightest of smiles after him before her eyes returned to Cadence. The two looked at each other for a few moments, until Hecate said softly: “I don't think I've ever seen you like this, Cadence.” “I've... never felt like this. Or at least... not since before I knew what I was doing, when the Swan first woke up, when... I didn't think I could save Daddy.” Cadence admitted after a moment, and she bit her look, then looked up at Hecate... and she couldn't stop it all from rushing out, saying desperately: “It just feels like it's all for nothing, like... like no matter what we do, we're going to lose! And even if we win... is it worth it, is it really worth it? It's thankless. All I'm seeing, over and over again, is my friends getting hurt, beaten... dying. I don't want to watch that. I'm scared, terrified of going home and failing again, of having to watch Shining die in front of me, of... of... of losing everything, because even if we stop Loki... that's not going to fix Daddy or heal Thesis or give La Croix his leg back and if we all die and go to the Void anyway, what's the point of trying to be the 'good guys' or honor or being a hero? It doesn't matter. Nothing matters.” “That is what I thought once. And that is why I went from this...” Hecate said softly, and then she calmly held up a foreleg, and in a flash, Cadence was staring at the beautiful Princess Celestia, her eyes going wide, her mouth falling open, before a second flash tore at her eyes, making her stumble before she shivered in horror as she found herself staring at a bloody head on a metal body, all the beauty stolen from her ragged features, her eyes glowing and yet empty as she murmured: “To this.” There was a pause, and then the Jötnar mare was back in a blink of Cadence's eyes, as if she had never transformed, never changed, and Cadence guessed that she hadn't, not really, as she looked silently over the mare. Hecate looked back at her, and then she shook her head slowly before she said softly: “The problem, Cadence, isn't that nothing matters. That's a childish defense. That's what we tell ourselves to try and hide from the truth that too much matters. Your friends matter. Your father matters. I matter. You matter. Your family matters. The Decretum project, this Clockwork Empire as a whole, matters to you. And Thesis matters. And yes, you are going to lose him, he is going to die, and either vanish or return to the Void, and either way you will likely never see him again.” Cadence trembled, and Hecate said quietly: “But you can pout and cry and whine about it, or you can spend every single moment you have with him instead of pissing it all away on worries and whimpering. I have no problem with you questioning, or arguing, or even being sad. We all have to be sad sometimes. We all have to cry, and we all have to get angry, and we all have to fight and struggle and test our boundaries. Challenge breeds respect. But I will not accept you surrendering. Not even to this. I expect more from you, Cadence.” Cadence lowered her head, and she breathed softly in and out before she closed her eyes and nodded once, straightening her shoulders. For once, she didn't want to fight or scream or whimper or whine. But more than the words, she could see Hecate's emotions, feel the warmth, the truth in her energy, and Cadence smiled faintly before she shook her head and said softly: “I don't deserve that love.” “Thesis loves you, so I love you. That's all the proof I need to know you deserve it.” answered Hecate gently, before she sighed and straightened, saying quietly: “Your team will be rushed back to operative status for this mission while we prepare another Orbiter, and I want you to go to Midgard B-22. Loki is out of play, but there is still a major Void presence there.” The ivory mare nodded slowly, before she asked uncertainly: “What would he want there? I mean... the other worlds, now that we know what was going on... they made sense. I... I think you were right and he wasn't just looking for revenge.” Hecate gave the slightest of smiles at this: Cadence was beginning to learn to look past her emotions. “Of course he wasn't. But there are other reasons he would be interested in your homeworld as well. This, after all, is where you fell.” Cadence frowned, then she nodded slowly, as she murmured: “Maybe other things fell there, too, or there's... traces, residue... I don't know.” “Loki seeks to fulfill 'prophecies' that he knows are nothing more than stories and manipulation. We can also assume that the Prime is manipulating him to some extent: not intelligently, but rather influencing his emotions and behavior.” Hecate said with a nod, meeting Cadence's eyes evenly. “He will want the records of the incident. I have a feeling that it wasn't a coincidence you fell where you did.” The ivory mare nodded, before she frowned as the Swan nudged her mentally, and she sighed a little before letting Danzsöngr rise to the surface, bowing her head politely to Hecate before she said: “We remember nothing of what happened. Only being overwhelmed and destroyed. But when we awoke, that world felt... familiar to us. As if we had been there before. And there were many husks... the Absent, not the shells that Loki calls forth from the Void.” “So you remember what those specters are?” Hecate asked, and Cadence scowled mentally: she would have appreciated the Swan sharing that information with her. “We are sharing it with you now.” the Swan said almost apologetically, and Cadence hated that even more. “It is hard, Cadence. We are one being, and yet we are still separate. You do not let us in and perhaps we do not give as freely as we should, but we are learning. We are evolving still. Be patient with us.” The Swan paused, then returned her eyes to Hecate with a nod. “Yes. The Absent are marks upon the Astra. They are where the Astra has been stained, where living Astra has been... scarred. We do not know how to explain it. It just is.” “I understand. That's why they're attracted to corruption: the Clay of Prometheus affects the spiritual makeup as much as the physical.” Hecate muttered, before she shook her head and asked: “How did the world feel familiar? Was it a seeded world?” “No, we do not believe so. But there was an anchoring there, a great weight that kept the Absent from moving on. It was why Valthrudnir chose that world.” the Swan explained, although when Cadence nudged her mentally, the only response she got in return was that the Swan simply knew. “It is in the Astra.” Hecate looked meditatively at Danzsöngr for a few moments, and then she finally sighed and nodded, saying moodily: “Very well. In the meantime, Cadence, I suggest you rest.” “I'm fine. That's... part of the problem, I guess. I'm always okay.” Cadence half-argued, before she laughed a little as she realized she had complete control of her body back. She and the Swan were switching more seamlessly every day... maybe one day we won't even realize the difference. Horses of Heaven, that's a scary thought. “I heal too fast.” “Not mentally.” Hecate said, and Cadence couldn't really argue with that before the Jötnar mare glanced to the side as an alert flashed in one of her eyes, summoning a holographic screen and studying it for a moment before she stated: “Thesis has been released from the medical center. If you want a job, then babysit him and keep him out of my hair.” “Yes ma'am.” Cadence said with an awkward salute, taking that as both advice and her cue to leave, and she spun around and hurried out of the briefing room. She was still getting used to the layout of Endworld, but she had already spent so much time at the medical facility that she knew roughly where she was headed. She found Thesis outside of the medical building, a cigarette in his muzzle, smiling lamely at Cadence when she approached and gave him a sour look. He shrugged awkwardly, then winced when she smacked it out of his muzzle before he said finally: “I thought it helped with my roguish charm. It wasn't even lit, though, I swear. It also was not a joint. It could have easily been a joint, but it was not a joint. There's a lot of marijuana in there.” “The only pot you're allowed to have is the pot that... you make dinner in.” Cadence stopped, realized how awful that sounded, then instead smacked the stallion again, making him wince and stagger before she caught him by the shoulder and looked intently at his back, even as she asked: “Where did you even get cigarettes, anyway?” “Your friend Lancer. He said he wanted to quit.” Thesis said, and Cadence softened a little, nodding slowly before the Replicant reassured her gently: “And I'm okay. I'm okay, okay? They fixed me up nice and proper, and then sealed it with a corruption bath. I'm okay.” “Yeah.” Cadence murmured after a moment, studying the new, polished exoskeleton on Thesis' back, before she sighed a little, lowering her head. Thesis gently pressed under her chin after a moment, however, forcing her to raise her eyes to meet his always-warm, always-bright gaze, the stallion winking at her before he surprised her with a quick kiss. She blushed a bit as they kissed there, in the street in front of the medical building, beneath the neon lights of the city of Exoterra. They kissed, until a loud wolf-whistle made Cadence's eyes snap open, and she shoved Thesis away to glare furiously at Luna Brynhild, who was grinning widely at them from a few feet away. Then Morgan and Scrivener both smacked the back of the Valkyrie's head, making her squawk, and Cadence sighed and rolled her eyes before Scrivener said mildly: “Good to see you back up and on your hooves. And not crazy, I assume.” “Yeah. Mom had a spare exoskeleton for me just lying around. Of course she had a spare. She probably has a spare of a spare in case I break this one, too.” Thesis paused, then corrected: “When I break this one, too.” “You're not breaking anything in the near future.” Cadence grumbled, before she scowled when the stallion awkwardly held up a box of cigarettes, and she swiped these away from him with a glower. “And stop trying to be the cool guy. You are not the cool guy.” “I am the epitome of the cool guy!” Thesis complained as he flexed a foreleg pointedly, and then he winced when Cadence bopped him on the head with the hoof holding the cigarettes. “Ouch.” “'Tis a relationship almost as good and pure as our own, Scrivy. 'Tis good to see. And reassuring, too, for I know that the Swan will keep Thesis in line just as I do thee, terrible beetle.” the Valkyrie said cheerfully, and Morgan smiled and rolled her eyes as Scrivener only looked at the sapphire mare mildly. “Thesis, Swan, we are going to visit home. We heard from Thorn that a dear friend is once more awake, and we wish to visit him before Freya rides him to death. Would thee like to come with us? We can hook a wagon to Hex and pull thee along.” Cadence scowled slightly, but she was admittedly surprised by the genuine offer. But it was Thesis who answered for her, saying politely: “Thank you, but I'm pretty sure if I leave Exoterra, Mom will lock me up in the basement for the rest of my life when I get back. Are you guys going to be back here?” “Aye, at some point. But 'twas very important business that Cadence called us away from, I shall have thee know. Still, what choice did I have but to...” Luna stopped at the glowers she received from all around, and then she grumbled under her breath. “Oh, fie on all of thee, so sensitive. Bah.” “We plan to come back to Endworld, yes. We should be able to come and go fairly easily with Hex.” Morgan said, before she smiled and added: “We want to help as much as possible, but... we don't want to be overbearing, either. We know this is your universe now, and you seem more than capable of defending it.” “I think there's enough universe for all of us. Unless Luna gets too greedy.” Thesis said mildly, and Luna shrugged amiably. “We're glad to have your help, though... and, you know, that you aren't going to hog all the credit.” Morgan smiled, and Scrivener shrugged, but Luna Brynhild only snorted before she said wryly: “Well, thou art fortunate they are lazy and humble, and insist upon dragging me down to their level. 'Tis very vexing. There are few things I enjoy more than pummeling and smiting all in my path, after all.” “Yes, Valkyrie. We know.” Cadence said tiredly, before she shook her head and said finally: “I... do know you want to see this brought to an end as much as any of us, so... yeah.” “Rousing speech, Swan. I can see why thou wert made a leader. One day, I am sure thou shall make a great king, too.” Luna said ironically, and Cadence scowled at her horribly, before the Valkyrie spun around on her heel and strode off, declaring: “Come, 'tis best we go, 'lest we elsewise find that Freya has already crushed poor Bob.” Scrivener and Morgan both waved before they hurried after Luna, and Cadence sighed and shook her head before Thesis asked awkwardly: “So... how long has it been?” The mare looked at him with surprise, and Thesis shrugged before he said finally: “Corruption tank makes me lose sense of time. It's all just... emptiness, darkness. You sort of... it's just timeless blackness. Timeless, soundless, but warm, and...” Thesis shivered a bit, and Cadence softened before the Replicant cleared his throat and nudged: “Well? How long have I been out?” “We've been back for about two days now. It's been hard to keep track of things, though.” Cadence admitted, shaking her head slowly. “La Croix is... I don't know what they're going to do about his... and Daddy is in an isolation chamber, and Moonflower is just... hurt. He's not even bragging about how he was right all along.” Thesis looked at Cadence with confusion, and the ivory mare smiled wryly. “His stupid necklace. It was a voltaic topaz he bought from some fortune teller, wasted all our money on it. But... voltaic topazes absorb electricity, which Auriculos was using to manipulate the Astra. Moonflower managed to short circuit him with it, probably saved us all.” “Huh.” Thesis smiled after a moment, then he asked quietly: “Then why's he still... out of it?” “I guess... the stress of everything. The fact he feels he didn't do enough. How badly everyone was hurt, and I mean... Auriculos couldn't manipulate the Astra right, but I think he still left scars we can't see. That aren't...” Cadence broke off from her fumbling explanation, lowering her head for a moment before she cleared her throat and looked up, changing the subject awkwardly. “Auriculos. The Swan tore him apart, but I don't know if he's really dead or just gone to the Void. But something happened to him even before the Swan sliced him up. The Astra... turned on him. Do you think...” “I don't know. I don't know what the hell we're made out of.” Thesis said plainly, and Cadence smiled even as she rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to punch him. After a moment, however, Thesis took the question more seriously, saying softly: “I know that even if we're not made of flesh-and-blood anymore, we're made of... something, and our bodies react very similarly to the way they did when we were alive, for lack of a better word. I can still heal myself with corruption, for example. Like you've seen.” Cadence nodded, and Thesis hesitated before he murmured: “But I'm... different, too. When I had the connection to Rig, I was more Voidborn than I am now. I don't know how that's possible, but I guess it has to do with... energy content or something complicated that makes my head hurt to think about too much.” “There is something of Astra in the Void. And yet not. It is complicated.” Danzsöngr agreed, and Thesis blinked as Cadence swore and flailed mentally, but the Swan held her at bay for the moment so she could ask with interest: “Did you know many in the Void?” “Yes and no. I wasn't... myself in the Void. I mean, I guess I was. I was a worse version of myself.” Thesis said delicately, but the Swan only nodded seriously, and Cadence could admittedly understand that a little bit. “But after I started working with Loki, and things got clearer for me, then yes. I did get to meet most of them... but I never knew a lot of them personally, and some of them, like Swiftly Wing, I only ever saw in passing.” “I really don't like her.” Cadence said, and then she cursed the Swan for giving her control back at the worst possible time. Again. “I just... I guess I don't like a lot of things.” “You don't, but that's okay, and I guess I understand where you're coming from. Warrior culture and all that.” Thesis said amiably, and Cadence grunted before the stallion suggested: “Why don't we get out of the street, though? It's weird. People are staring.” No one was actually staring at them because there were only drones and Dogmatists around, but Cadence grimaced a bit all the same, nodding and rubbing self-consciously at herself before she glanced down at the pack of cigarettes she was still holding in a hoof. She threw them away, but Thesis caught the box before it could hit the ground, and then he grinned awkwardly and quickly tucked it into his sidepack even as she gave him a smoldering look. “Hey, I'm not going to smoke 'em, promise! But you know. Littering is bad and all. We could also get penalized for it.” Cadence looked at him moodily for a moment, but then she sighed and nodded, grumbling: “Guess that's the downside of living in a place where there are cameras everywhere.” “Yes. That's the one downside of a tyrannical security state. The fact people will see you litter. Nothing else.” Thesis said blandly, and Cadence gave him a dry look. “I know, I know. I shouldn't be complaining. I'm second-in-command of the security state, the little boy of Big Mother, but. Still. I do recognize that there are uh... certain flaws with the way things are.” “I really don't want to have a philosophical discussion about the Clockwork Empire right now. I... I believe in Hecate, and I want to believe that we're doing a good thing, that we're a good people. Even if there are...” Cadence looked up as several security drones shot by overhead, before she shook her head and murmured: “The alternatives haven't worked, though, have they? And maybe... we don't deserve freedom.” “Hey, hey. I was just teasing you, you know that.” Thesis said gently, and Cadence grunted as she gave him a grouchy look, the stallion smiling reassuringly before he said softly: “Look, Sazerac-” “All your nicknames for me suck.” Cadence interrupted grouchily, and Thesis simply looked at her until she lowered her head slightly and mumbled: “Well, they do.” “You suck.” Thesis said, and Cadence glowered at him before the stallion gently grasped her shoulder and pulled on her, and the mare sighed as she allowed herself to be drawn into following him, the two heading down the street together. Thesis picked up from where he'd left off, smiling at her as he said gently: “We are free. We're freer than most ponies, as a matter of fact. Sure, it might not seem like it, but don't forget that we all chose to be part of Decretum. This is a job, and it has the same rules as any other job: don't screw up or you'll get fired.” “Yes, but in Decretum, you then get thrown in jail.” the mare said dryly, and Thesis smiled despite himself. “It depends. I'm sure Mom doesn't discourage the rumors, but at least five Orphans have been let go, you know. And I don't mean that as a euphemism for had their heads cut off, either, I mean Hecate gave them a choice, and they decided to leave, and she sent them either back home, or to a Class A world with enough bits to start a new life.” Thesis said mildly, and Cadence looked at him with surprise. But after she thought for a moment, she couldn't help but smile a little, shaking her head and muttering: “It's all about appearances, isn't it?” “Yeah, that's pretty much how life works, even when you don't run a massive private military corporation in charge of protecting literally the entire universe.” Thesis said blandly, and Cadence gave the stallion a dry look. “Well, it is. Fake it 'til you make it, right? That was a thing even in my day, and I'm really old. I'm so old it's almost creepy that I'm dating you.” “No you are not, you asshole. I'm the Swan. I was around long before you. Before any incarnation of you, as a matter of fact, even if you do have a piece of Heimdall in you.” the mare grumbled, and she didn't know how she knew it was true, but... it is. I feel that somehow. But how long ago did Hel make us, then? Hel did not make us. We were alive before Hel. Before the Aesir. Before Asgard. We were a soul before we were fused into flesh... the Swan murmured thoughtfully in her mind, and Cadence frowned, but the Swan said no more. Thesis was looking at her curiously, and the mare hesitated before she shook her head and muttered: “Swan's being weird. That's all.” “That's all.” Thesis echoed, and Cadence smiled a little: yes, it did sound ridiculous out loud, she knew that. “You know, I wish you two would get along better.” “Sorry Grandma, I'll try harder next time.” Cadence grumbled, and Thesis gave her a half-amused, half-exasperated look. “Why are you such a bitch? I mean, seriously. You're a bitch.” Thesis said blandly, and Cadence gave him a sour look, but the stallion only met her eyes with a pointed tilt of his head. “Didn't we even have a talk about you not being such a bitch?” Cadence grumbled under her breath, and then she suddenly stepped forward and headbutted him, Thesis squawking and flinching backward before she grumpily turned to head towards the residential complex, muttering: “I'll stop being a bitch when you stop being such a... you.” “But then you wouldn't like me anymore. I'm awesome, that's what makes me me!” Thesis whined as he hurried after her, and Cadence rolled her eyes as she shoved her way inside, then held the door for him with telekinesis, resisting the temptation to slam it on his head. They made their way up to their apartment, shoving and nudging at each other until they reached their apartment, and Thesis barely had time to close the door before Cadence shoved him back against the wall by his shoulders and kissed him firmly. He kissed her back, then frowned as she trembled, before his eyes opened as their mouths parted to find her gazing at him, eyes full of tears. He mouthed wordlessly for a moment, but Cadence only shook her head before she rubbed her wrist violently across her eyes, then looked down and murmured: “I hate you. And I wish we could leave and never have to deal with this again and... and it scares me how much I love you, because I love you so much that if Loki promised to just... to just put us somewhere and leave us alone, I really would... I would-” “Don't say it. Don't say it.” Thesis murmured, reaching up to gently cover her mouth, and Cadence grimaced but nodded as her eyes shifted away. “That life isn't for us, for better or worse. And you'd never be happy. I love you, and you might sort of like me a little-” “It's not cute. It's not cute at all.” Cadence muttered roughly, hammering a hoof against the stallion's chest, and then she closed her eyes and slid her hoof up around his neck with a sigh, silently dropping her head against his chest. “It's not fair and I hate... I hate everything we've gone through, and I hate everything that the future holds, and I wish... I wish none of it had to happen. That's childish, isn't it? But... all the same...” She shook her head slowly, then she looked silently up at him, and Thesis smiled faintly as he wiped her tears gently away before he asked: “Do you want tea?” “Yeah.” Cadence said after a moment, before she lowered her head against him and murmured: “But I need a minute or two more of being... weak.” “You're not weak. You're never weak.” the stallion replied gently, and Cadence smiled faintly as her eyes flicked away, before Thesis kissed her forehead and murmured: “I have you, and you have me, and that's all that matters right now, okay? For a little while, let's just have that.” Cadence nodded slowly against him, and then she smiled faintly before she murmured: “Your Mom's rubbed off on you.” Thesis only smiled in response, hugging her silently close to his breast as he gently stroked through her mane, and hoping she knew that as strong as Hecate had made him, it was the mare in his embrace who had truly helped him become the stallion he had always wanted to be. Hecate stood on the balcony overlooking the city, several holographic screens floating around her, all of them glowing with information on three very different things that ultimately all came back to one person: Loki. As the soul furnace was no longer considered a priority target, she had downgraded the emergency self-destruct to a controlled demolition, and she was waiting for the last of the Worker Drones to complete evacuation with the remaining soul batteries. At least something good would come of that disaster, or so she could hope... Another screen displayed the completed analysis of Auriculos' remains: both the whole cube that Trixie had passed on to them that he had used as a communicator of sorts, and the wreckage of his body, which had been recovered from the soul furnace for study. It was very clear that Auriculos had been using salvaged Decretum technology to put together his machinations, but what concerned Hecate was the fact that all the parts had been custom-made and recently manufactured: that had to mean there was a facility somewhere that they had missed where Loki was able to harness and produce Clockwork technology. Then again, Thesis had said before that Loki hadn't been interested in stealing weapons, but rather generators, batteries, and other basic equipment from Valthrudnir's storehouses, and while that had seemed unremarkable at first, now Hecate was left to wonder uneasily if, with the help of a few willing-or-coerced Decretum minds, Loki had managed to get his own Clockwork facility up and running somewhere... She scowled, then glanced moodily at the third screen: this one was scrolling slowly through various Void energy signatures and readings they had had managed to isolate across the universe. She thought they were slowly learning to distinguish what each frequency meant: detecting this wavelength meant Husks, detecting this additional signature meant Voidborn, etcetera etcetera. It was difficult to decrypt, though, and even with the amplification provided by the tower in World Without End and the growing network of ballistic satellites Hecate was establishing, the signals and their variants were all very weak, very difficult to detect. But then again, even their most powerful sensors had never been designed for narrow-scope or micro-detection: they weren't the 'save the ponies from stubbing their hooves' brigade, they were only concerned with actual threats that went beyond the scope and imagination of ponykind, even if threats much smaller than that could still pose a significant risk to the future of a Midgard. But the ponies had to fight for themselves, too. Either way, Clockwork World had always operated off a simple enough protocol: detect an anomaly, and then gather evidence, usually by sending in a scout or a drone to monitor the situation and to alert her if intervention was required immediately. Otherwise, the information was then shuffled to Seneschal, who analyzed it and then advised her what the threat level was, and they would go from there. This was different, though: Loki and his Voidborn seemed particularly sensitive to the creation of even small portals, making it intensely difficult for them to gather information by their usual methods. Hecate had contacts in Helheim and Heaven she was using to get some information in other ways, but even these avenues were limited: demons couldn't – wouldn't – get close because of the risk of being sensed and attacked by the Voidborn or Elementals, even in spirit form, and Loki knew every trick and spell of Heaven, enabling him to easily set up massive dead zones that not even the craftiest mage of Valhalla could scry through. Hecate moodily looked between the screens, before she rose her head slightly as she felt a tingle, and then she gave a thin smile as she asked: “Are you the deus ex machina I was hoping for? Because I was just thinking about how I could use someone capable of outmaneuvering Loki.” “I'm afraid that chaos doesn't mix with Void energies very well.” Kvasir said calmly, and Hecate turned to face the Mad Hatter, who gave a stiff little bow before he said quietly: “I made a promise that I would see you. And I have meant to, for quite a long time. Unfortunately...” “You had to wait until I had almost completely lost faith in our meeting, I know.” Hecate said distastefully, and Kvasir smiled thinly. “Rather, until you'd almost put it out of your mind. I know you understand how chaos works too well to ever lose faith in it. But I'm afraid, as always... I am short on time. I am late, late, for a very important date.” Kvasir said, and as calm as he was, he shuffled back and forth on the spot, flicking a pocketwatch out of his vest pocket by the chain and spinning it quickly into his hand to pop it open, then snap it closed in a repetitive, anxious gesture. Hecate nodded, dismissing the screens as she turned to face him, and Kvasir studied her before he said quietly: “Strange. Valthrudnir's energy... it almost brings a sense of nostalgia with it. And the Jötnar makes the Hatter nervous, for obvious reasons... but calmer, too. Fear attaches chaos to the physical world.” “I am very capable of inspiring as much fear as you need, Kvasir.” Hecate said softly, and the Mad Hatter gave a wry smile. “I'll get to the point. What can you tell me about the Prime and Loki?” “Too much. Not enough. Your son already knows everything he has to. Did he tell you that I took him and Melinda for tea? Very fortunate she was there, she knew all the etiquette and the procedure.” Kvasir paused, then he grimaced as he squeezed the pocketwatch tightly in his hand, muttering: “Keep it together.” Hecate frowned slightly, before she asked slowly: “What does Loki want with Ginnungagap? And the Primordials-” “One question at a time! And since you've already asked one, it's my turn now to...” Kvasir shivered, and then he gritted his teeth and visibly reined himself in. “We have more important things to talk about. Like the Tyrant Wyrms, for example.” “The genetic molds for the Tyrant Wyrms are being reprogrammed as we speak. It's something I should have done a long time ago, but it was never as crucial as it has become now.” Hecate said quietly, and Kvasir smiled wryly at this. “Unlike you to make excuses.” he commented, and Hecate scowled. “And what about the Tyrant Wyrms you have locked away in the basement and delegated to the wasteland? Don't you think-” “I know that Loki will attempt to use them against us, yes. They are only flawed machinery, however, in spite of their connection to the Void: if it becomes necessary, they will be destroyed. But for now, it is important that they continue to serve in their capacity as terraformers and fuel providers.” Hecate answered. Kvasir studied her for a moment, and then he asked softly: “Why is it that people always ask for advice and help, but then ignore everything you have to say? Not that I wasn't the same way in life.” “You're still alive.” Hecate said, and Kvasir shrugged moodily as he flicked his pocketwatch open and closed a few times before he squeezed it tightly in his hand, and it turned to golden dust that spilled away into the air as he flexed his gloved fingers slowly. “I understand that at times I can be... arrogant. I understand that you likely know the price of arrogance better than I do, as well, and... your advice is valued. But-” Kvasir only waved a hand, before he asked almost abruptly: “Are you aware of how thin reality has become?” “Yes, we're monitoring areas where-” “No, no. The whole blanket is thin. There are certainly thinner spots and holes here and there, but the whole blanket has gotten to the point where it's just about ready to tear.” Kvasir answer, flexing his fingers slowly before he shook his head, forcing himself to be a bit more lucid as he added in a more serious voice: “All of reality has become damaged. Loki's presence is exacerbating the effect, but is not in and of itself the cause. But you knew that already, didn't you?” “I had my suspicions.” Hecate admitted after a moment with a slow nod, saying quietly: “It's because of the overuse of portals, isn't it? Even portal rings were meant to only be used sparingly, but there has been massive abuse of free-standing portals as well as tunnels carved through reality.” The Mad Hatter nodded, saying softly: “That is correct. We say that portals leave behind residue, but in reality what we are talking about are scars and damage that can be detected years after the portal was used. More than that, Heaven and Hell are interacting with Midgard on a regular basis... even more so, now that demons are beginning to become aware Hell is missing three very important letters.” Hecate scowled, but Kvasir gave a quirk of a smile, shaking his head and tapping a finger against his nose as he answered her unasked question: “No. A few more years. I can't tell you whether that's in Hell-time or today-time, although the not-quite-red queen has been doing us the favor of matching Helheim time to ours.” “Good. What other damage control can we provide?” asked Hecate, and Kvasir gave her a dry smile. “There must be-” “You have other things to worry about. You've already got the whole universe on your shoulders: even a Jötnar can only carry one universe at a time.” Kvasir said gently, before he grimaced a bit and added quietly: “Besides, I'm sure you'll be dealing with plenty of demons in the future: they'll be eager to try and escape Helheim once they realize their Mistress is missing. I'm sure plenty already have, as a matter of fact... they're just laying low in case this is another game of Hel's. You'll have your hands – or hooves, or feet, or whatever you prefer, if you so prefer – full very soon.” Hecate scraped a hoof meditatively against the balcony, before she turned to gaze out over Endworld, studying it silently: she wondered how much damage this world's existence had caused the fabric of reality. After all, Endworld wasn't even supposed to exist, and the Horn of Gjallar, all those years ago, had shattered it away from the chain of worlds, and done who knew how much damage to the rest of the universe in the process. How much damage had she done to the universe in her attempt to fix it, to protect it? How many holes had she punched into reality herself? Was this why it was so easy for Loki to exercise his powers, because they had already weakened the fabric of Midgard so much that it had become trivial for him to reach through the thin veneer of reality to yank loose more of the Void? “I have limited time. There's no time for thinking, Hecate, only for doing.” Kvasir said as he strode up beside her to lean over the balcony, but after a moment, he couldn't help but add: “Your city is very beautiful, though. I only... really started to see beauty after...” Kvasir quieted, and Hecate glanced at him, saying softly: “Yes. I understand. But as you said, we don't have the time for idle chitchat or beauty. Is there anything that you can do about the weakening of reality?” “Chaos only weakens reality further. For once, it's not a stupid looparound when I say that there's nothing I can do to help.” Kvasir shook his head slowly, squeezing tightly into the banister as he muttered: “One thing that does concern me is that Loki is... he can't hide his intentions from me, even if he can conceal everything else. We are at opposite ends of the chaotic spectrum: he exists to keep things moving, I exist to prevent things from staying still.” Hecate glanced at Kvasir, and she hesitated for a moment: just a moment, but it was more than enough to catch the Mad Hatter's attention, his gaze turning to her fully as she asked quietly: “Is it true? Do you think this was all Loki's plan, all along?” Kvasir was silent for a moment, before he sighed softly and looked up at the starless, windless, cloudless sky of Endworld, studying the swirling darkness above before he said finally: “I don't want to think so. But I only know that means it's probably true. Gymbr, for better or worse, was my friend... I think... I think at the very least he was unaware that he was being used. I think he wanted to do good, be more than a story. But I think that was the problem, and how Loki must have found it so easy to manipulate him: all he had to do was lie, and convince Gymbr this was what he really wanted all along.” Hecate looked down moodily, and Kvasir shook his head slowly as he murmured: “Maybe it was never the Void gazing back into us, when we looked into it: maybe there was something in there the whole time, whispering to us, manipulating us, telling us all the things we want to hear. And you know there's nothing more dangerous than hearing precisely what you want to.” “Confirmation bias and preconceived notions make prey of even the best of us.” Hecate looked moodily out into the distance, shaking her head slowly. “But you have to have faith in something. And I don't believe Loki is trying to teach us about the dangers of blind belief.” Kvasir smiled wryly, and then Hecate looked up at him and asked: “Does the Hatter have any intent to fight him? In the past-” “Once. And the Mad Hatter was only compelled to fight the Pious because he wanted to... to wrong a right, or right a wrong, or... whatever it was. He was responsible, and he was pushed into being responsible, but this...” Kvasir shook his head slowly. “This is entirely different. Partly because it's chaos against chaos, but also because the Hatter doesn't care about Midgard like he does about Alice, like I do about Heaven.” Hecate scowled, but Kvasir only shrugged before he said quietly: “I'm only lucid for short periods of time. I can't force the Mad Hatter to do anything: as a matter of fact, trying to force him to do anything usually has the opposite effect. As it is, I'm lucky that I still exist at all.” Kvasir paused, then he looked down at his hand, studying his gloves fingers as he flexed them slowly before he frowned slightly and stated more than asked: “You have something unpleasant imprisoned in one of your facilities... a destruction entity, fused with chaos. Not Primordial, but...” “Semisynthetic, chemically-altered to serve as a biological weapon. E-V-100 was his designation, but he calls himself Cancer.” Hecate said, and Kvasir nodded slowly. “Can you communicate with him?” “He's from Ginnungagap... a place where Ginnungagap was thin. I can't command the destruction but I can modify the chaos he shrouds himself with.” Kvasir paused, then his eyes flicked towards Hecate, adding quietly: “However, I have to warn you that the Hatter will not allow me to assist you if you execute him afterwards. Chaos, no matter how vicious or merciful, always works for the benefit of chaos.” “If you can get Cancer to provide information, then you can send him back where he came from. Otherwise, I will interrogate him myself, then see how long he remains cohesive in a soul furnace.” Hecate said coldly, looking straight through Kvasir: but then again, it wasn't him she was speaking to. And after a moment, Kvasir twitched before the Mad Hatter blurted: “Terrifying! Why, I'd run away from it all right now, but then I suppose that would be leaving my angry cousin to die... and a cousin is a cousin, even when he's a bear, isn't that right?” Hecate remained calm, and after a moment, Kvasir grimaced as he reached up to grasp the brim of his top hat. “I dislike when people talk through me.” “Then don't get in the way.” Hecate said simply, and Kvasir gave a thin smile before the Jötnar mare gestured to the side, opening an oval rip in reality that led directly to the facility where Cancer was being held. “Shall we?” “Funny. I thought we just had a chat about that.” Kvasir said, and Hecate gave him a dry look before she followed him as he stepped through the hole, the rift slamming shut behind them and leaving them standing in a cold, desolate steel room. Heavy, armored, and electrified doors were at their back, while in front of them was a windowed isolation box: it was little more than a cube of metal, pipes and wires feeding down from the ceiling into the domed roof of this lonely cell, feeding it the power and data necessary to keep the occupant isolated from the rest of the world. Hecate and Kvasir approached the window of the cell, the Mad Hatter clucking his tongue as he put his hands behind his back, body language curious but expression and voice stoic as ever as he said quietly: “Is it designed to cut him off from us, or to cut us off from him?” “Not everything is one or the other.” Hecate answered, and Kvasir gave her a wry smile before the mare returned her eyes to the window, and the creature within that was glaring out at them hatefully: a goblinoid, pathetic-looking thing, with huge bug-like eyes and scaly skin. “He's developed a strange tendency to mimic pony behavior when his powers aren't being repressed. Irradiating him still seems to be an effective measure for suppressing both his abilities and his senses, however: it seems like almost all the Voidborn carry the same strengths and weaknesses they had in life.” “That's not a surprise.” Kvasir paused, then he stepped back and said quietly as he rolled up his sleeves: “Excuse me while I ignore your rules.” Hecate frowned, before her eyes widened in surprise as, with a mere flick of his wrists, Cancer vanished from inside the cell and reappeared in the Mad Hatter's grip, Kvasir's muzzle wrinkling in disgust as he leaned away from the dripping, ugly thing he was holding up by the armpits like a hideous baby. Cancer blinked, then flailed wildly as the goblinoid beast cackled, his body becoming larger and more stallionesque as he declared: “I knew you couldn't hold me! I knew it, I knew it, I knew-” Cancer squeaked as he was snared inside a bubble, floating dumbly upside down as Kvasir moodily rubbed a hand at his suit, the other extended beneath the spherical prison as he muttered: “The one thing that the Hatter and I both agree with is that neither of us likes to get dirty.” “I don't gotta listen to you! I got a great boss already!” Cancer shouted from inside the bubble, uselessly hammering his hooves against the wall of the prison before he snarled: “You better let me out of here, Hatter, or when I get back to the Void, I'm gonna tell Loki all about you and that you're helping that big stupid metal bit... bit... by golly, hey there, Hecate! Long... long time no see!” Cancer grinned uncomfortably as he slowly revolved towards the Jötnar mare, and then he gave a squeaky little laugh before he squealed and flung himself against the other side of the orb when the mare leaned towards him with a cold glare. But Kvasir held up his other hand calmly, saying pointedly: “You're scaring the Hatter. And the Hatter's desire for self-preservation is greater than his desire to protect this... tumor.” “It makes little difference to me.” Hecate said coldly, but she backed off all the same, and Kvasir gave her the slightest of nods before he turned his eyes back to Cancer. “Hey, I'll sing real sweet for all y'all if you want me to! You just gotta ask, that's all... and I don't even mean politely, nope!” Cancer blurted, shaking his head vehemently as he gave a queasy smile towards Hecate, before his head twisted all the way around on his neck so he could look back at the Mad Hatter, adding hurriedly: “'Specially you, sir, ain't like I'm ever gonna say anything bad to you, nope, no sir, I know my place real good like!” Kvasir simply looked at Cancer with distaste for a moment as the monster gave him a cheesy grin, before the Mad Hatter simply waved a hand as he said softly: “Masks off.” Cancer gurgled, and then his features went slack, his eyes dimming as energy steamed off his body. For a moment, Hecate frowned, wondering if something was wrong, and then she leaned back in disgust as Cancer's skin wilted away like rotten petals from his face, revealing a deformed skull beneath made of ever-shifting not-flesh. The skull clicked its teeth slowly, and then it said emptily: “You cannot command us. You have not weakened us. We are not Primordial: stripping us of our chaos only connects us more to our Master.” “Even the Hatter can't trust chaos. We're well-documented liars and truth-twisters, aren't we? But destruction, on the other hand...” Kvasir started, then he grimaced a bit, shivering a little as his fingers clenched, his coat sweeping up into the air of its own accord before he violently smoothed it out. “The Hatter is acting up. It's my fault for thinking he was gone, that he'd cooperate, that-” “Enough.” Hecate said curtly, and then she stepped forward and asked: “Cancer, what does Loki want?” Slowly, Cancer turned towards her, staring through her with those hellish hollow eyes as it reached up a half-melted hoof to stroke slowly against the wall of the glass bubble restraining it. “To bring all things back to the Void. But you know this. What you want to know is if he wants you. If he wants this world. And the answer is yes. He will devour you. He will devour these worlds. All shall be his. All shall return to the Void.” “Destruction entities and their obsession with the Void. Ridiculous.” grumbled Kvasir, and Hecate could hear in his voice how he was starting to lose himself to the influence of the Mad Hatter. “But what puzzles me... are the Primordials. What do they have to gain?” Hecate narrowed her eyes, and Cancer chuckled softly before he whispered: “They serve the will of the Prime. In the beginning, the Primordials were few; before the beginning, the Primordials were One: the Prime, and the Prime alone. The Shaper of Worlds.” Both Hecate and Kvasir looked at Cancer as the destruction entity's skull seemed to twist itself into a caricature of a grin, rasping: “They believe in death, they join with the Prime. That they will become the Prime once more. That their collective will shall be as one, and from the Void, they will create a universe anew. “You are fools.” Cancer pronounced, slowly turning his hollow, hellish gaze to Hecate. “Destroy them. Rip them from the flesh they are imprisoned in. Then purify their spirits of chaos. Return them to what they are: shards of the Prime, which eagerly return to him, stripped of body and will... stripped of what kept them imprisoned and separate. Make them one again. Make them whole again. Barrel headlong into oblivion.” Cancer smiled, and then he laughed, even as green flames ripped up across his body, rapidly consuming him as he whispered: “Back to the Void. It is all we have ever desired...” The bubble prison vibrated violently, and then it suddenly imploded on itself, vanishing in a burst of green light as Kvasir dropped in a squat, shivering a bit as he rested his arms on his knees. Hecate looked at him silently, wondering who was in control, but only for a moment, as Kvasir muttered: “That frightened Theophilius.” “This is not good news.” Hecate said quietly, and Kvasir grunted as he sat back on his rump like a child, wrapping his arms around his knees as he gazed at the isolation chamber silently. “It's worse than what I suspected. I thought the Primordials were being used by Loki, but...” “Maybe they're the ones using him.” muttered Kvasir, and then he shook his head slowly before he sighed a little, tapping his fingers anxiously against his legs before he looked up and asked: “How are you going to deal with Loki?” Hecate was silent for a moment, and then she said softly: “I have no intention of changing my approach. He is a threat, and he will be dealt with as such.” “Someone very wise once told me that we don't give others mercy because they deserve it.” Kvasir said quietly, before he smiled briefly and shook his head, clambering up to his feet and brushing himself off. “But I suppose you work under a different set of rules. I just hope you realize, Hecate, that no one will hesitate to apply those same rules to you, which I'm sure you already know... but they might also choose to apply those rules to your inheritors, as well. Food for thought.” Hecate lowered her head briefly, and by the time she looked up, Kvasir was already gone. She looked silently at the space where the Mad Hatter had stood a moment before, and then she closed her eyes with a sigh, taking solace only in the hope that her inheritors would prove themselves to be far better people than she had ever been able to be.