Chapter One Hundred and Six: All These Questions That Remain
~BlackRoseRaven
Hel clucked her tongue as she strode down the metal halls of Endworld, her cane tapping quietly against the ground as she wandered through the deepest, darkest recesses of this metal world she could hide away in. She liked it down here, though: it was loud and dusty and disgusting but it was safe, even with all the automata and the machinery... no, because of all the dolls and machinations.
She hummed to herself as a door slid open for her, rubbing her fingers self-consciously against her dress. That was the best part, all the doors without handles! She didn't have to touch anything, or be touched by anything. And there were so many fascinating things to see...
Hel strode slowly through a narrow corridor, gazing almost raptly out the window wall that looked down into a massive hangar below. Three enormous Tyrant Wyrms were lined up, chained and shackled in place: not that chains or shackles would do much good if they wanted to break free. But Tyrant Wyrms, while awful things, were mostly machine: it was easy to forget with all their hate and malice and destroyer-stink, but beneath all that living poison was nothing more than an engine, and a simple mind made to follow simple orders. Sit, stay, kill.
Hel spun her cane at her side, limping her way through the door at the end of the corridor and smiling as she stepped into a control station, where several of Hecate's perfect pony puppets were working quickly away at terminals, and Hecate herself stood over them, barely glancing up when Hel entered the room.
“This place is great!” Hel said enthusiastically, and Hecate slowly turned her eyes towards her, raising an eyebrow questioningly. “What? I'm serious! I love it here, I think you've done fantastic! You should be proud! You... should be proud.”
Hel stopped, grasping her cane by the neck and twisting it back and forth in her hands before she said quietly: “You've done a pretty good job here. And you have friends, and more allies coming in. Why, I heard the Pious had begun building one of their churchy-thingies in Decretum... and hey, let's not forget about my kids. But what are you going to do when this is all over, Hecate? When you're the only one left standing? Do you think you'll be able to be so pure then?”
“I won't have to be.” Hecate said quietly, and Hel frowned at her before Hecate turned her eyes away, looking down into the hangar below. “Are you here to annoy me, or are you here to contribute?”
“Both. Hopefully one more than the other so you don't either blow me up or teleport me back to my room, or worse.” Hel said positively, attempting to do a little jig on the spot before she hissed through her teeth and grasped her leg, rubbing at it slowly as she grumbled: “Hard to live when you've spent a thousand billion kajillion million years living through invulnerable ice clones.”
Hecate didn't so much as glance at Hel, who huffed before she limped over, leaning heavily on her cane. She absently reached up to begin playing through Hecate's long, lightning-mane hair with one hand, only the slight narrowing of Hecate's eyes giving any clue the Jötnar mare noticed before Hel said quietly, suddenly serious: “It won't be enough.”
Hecate's eyes flicked to Hel, who said softly: “Those nasty little tools of Valthrudnir obey the Void, first and foremost. He was stupid to make them with the stuff he did: they're closer to Loki's children than they are to your machines. Don't forget that the Tyrant Wyrms are driven by the need to destroy, to corrupt... to make things more like them. That's why the Clay of Prometheus failed: it made things stronger, not better. It was carried by destroyers, not creators. Vally-Wally... he was so silly.”
“He was so silly.” echoed Hecate, and then she nodded slowly before she said quietly: “I can reprogram the cores, but I can't change what they're made out of, or the fact that they were programmed by the Black Verses, the language of the Void. But I can program delays. Scrivener Blooms has been a great asset.”
“Yes, I can imagine. I trust that you'll keep your Wyrms out of sight and out of mind as much as possible, though?” Hel inquired, and Hecate simply nodded. “Good. Keep them far away. Far, far away. And hope that they don't rush to do their new daddy's bidding when he rings the dinner bell.”
“They will, and they will be destroyed when it is time. Meanwhile, I've begun synthesizing a new breed of Tyrant Wyrm that should serve our interests better. I would like your participation in its creation, Hel.” Hecate said calmly, glancing at Hel, and Hel smiled in amusement as she reached up and brushed her long bangs out of her eyes.
“Why, because you know that I have a knack for making pretty things? I usually work in white, not black... but hey. Dragons aren't so different from Swans, are they? They're both temperamental, awful things that make halfway decent ballerinas.” Hel sniffed loudly and waved a hand absently before she suddenly flicked her cane out, using it to firmly nudge Hecate's face towards her before she said quietly: “Don't you betray my trust though. I've always been Daddy's little girl first and foremost, even after all the fightings and the disownings and the nemesisisings. I've still got a mean left hook.”
“I am not your enemy, and I have no intention of betraying you. Now or in the future.” Hecate replied evenly, before she reached up and pushed Hel's cane away. “But we do have a mutual enemy whom you haven't told me the story behind yet.”
Hel clicked her tongue, then she lowered her cane to lean on it, idly leaning forward and backward before she finally looked up and said softly, as her eyes traveled over the Dogmatists: “What I admire most is the way you've taken in all these broken little things and mended them. How many of these puppets have you fixed up, dear? How many of them have you given a new lease on life? Oh, they're all so broken, so lost... but they're not, at the same time. They're just... oh so very different now than they were when they were alive. And it's more time, eternal, ticking time that has changed them than Vally-Wally ever did; they have mouths and they could still scream, oh, sure, but so many years have passed and now they've learned, haven't they, that that is useless?”
Hel smiled, then she shook her head and said softly: “You don't consider them broken. You believe you have fixed what needed fixing, and it wasn't taking off the metal and putting the pony back in the horse, but rather... making them whole again. Repairing them, gluing them back together. Is that cannibalism? Or just a flesh transplant? I guess that depends on where it goes!”
The goddess laughed, then she smiled as she dropped her head back, but her eyes were serious, glittering and dangerous and sharply, terribly focused as they bored into Hecate's soul. “Now, imagine if you were some poor, discarded puppet, and someone picked you up and promised you they were going to make everything okay, but at the very last moment, they wrapped you up in the strings of some other puppets and tossed you in the garbage, and just left you struggling there all the way to the dump? Imagine that. Imagine how you would feel. It doesn't justify anything, but gosh, wouldn't you be angry? Wouldn't you be upset? And when it was all said and done, and the objects of your revenge were gone, wouldn't you be so bitter?”
“You're saying that Loki wants to hurt us... because he feels we're responsible for destroying the source of his pain. Because Valthrudnir and Odin died and left him without a target, without someone to take revenge on. So he's instead acting out his revenge against all of us.” Hecate said slowly, and Hel shrugged.
“Maybe. Maybe it's even simpler than that. Maybe he just wants everyone to hurt the way he does. Quibble over it all you want, it doesn't change anything, though...” Hel looked ahead, saying softly: “But some interesting points have been made. How much is Loki? How much is the Prime, which oh so certainly would want revenge by destroying every last little thing? How many shards of Loki are out there? How many are whole, how many are gone, how many has he collected, how many has he seen? Because oh, I bet you a shiny new dollar that ever since he killed that part of himself at that soul furnace, he's been searching high and low for any and every part of him that might have gone astray.”
Hecate nodded slowly, before she asked: “Why is he relating everything to stories and prophecy? How much is he responsible for?”
Hel looked moodily down at her cane as she bounced it against the floor slowly, before she muttered: “I don't know. I don't honestly know. He's a plotter and a schemer... but I'm sure he was as scared of getting Vally-Wally's attention as the rest of us. That would be why he focused in on my kids, of course. They defeated the undefeatable, and maybe he considered that to be something that paved a way for his eventual return.
“There are prophecies, countless prophecies and stories, all about all of us. Me, him, All Daddy. Almost none of them are true.” Hel winked over at Hecate, shrugging easily. “People just like stories, that's all, and they love to make 'em up and they love to have reasons for things. Thunder is just Thor throwing his hammer around, it's raining because some goddess is crying, it's sunny because that's a big gold wheel on a chariot that one of you magical horses is pulling along.
“And Loki loved stories, too, you know. He loved stories and he loved people. That was why he loved playing jokes: they gave him stories, and he got to see how people reacted, what people were really made of, what made 'em tick.” Hel snapped her fingers, then she smiled and shook her head, saying softly: “He was a smartie. Too smartie for his own good. I think that's another reason why Vally-wally got rid of him. He was never very fond of other smarties.”
Hecate looked back at Hel with a frown, but for a few moments the only sound was the Dogmatists working away at the terminals. Finally, Hel slowly turned her eyes back to Hecate, saying quietly: “Loki has always, always seized on any opportunities that presented themselves. I certainly believe that he manipulated the Norns from the Void: but then again, even I manipulated those three sometimes. It was never very hard. You just had to make them believe it was their decision, or they were operating on super top double-secret probation intel.”
Hel paused, licked her lips, then she tapped her cane nervously against the ground before she continued: “Loki was a voice from the Void. The Norns would have eaten that up, followed any suggestion he whispered to them, as long as he did it right. And as you know, he's a great actor, real flair for the dramatic. He could have easily pushed them towards starting a fight with those kids by gearing up Vally-wally's old machinery. My name, he might have been trying to kill my kids even back then, assuming – correctly! – that Vally-wally had hidden out in one of them. That trick's an oldie but a goodie.
“But I can definitely say that no matter how it happened, once the Norns were in the Void, Loki had them do his bidding. They sent out Gymbr to start a war with the Pious, and Gymbr was helpless to do anything but dance in the direction his strings were pulled. Jerked, really, I should say. He was never gentle with that toy, like you are with yours.” Hel clucked her tongue disapprovingly, and then she sighed before she drew her hand out of Hecate's mane and strode up to the window, gazing down at the Tyrant Wyrms and watching as they were led away out one side of the hangar, while three more were led in to be hooked up and reprogrammed. “Anything that's come back from the Void has Loki's touch on it, I guarantee you that. Maybe even my kids...”
Hel looked down meditatively, chewing on her lip before she shook her head and muttered: “No, that's crazy talk. Crazy even for me. Crazy even for Loki! That might be the exception to the rule, but I do have to wonder... do you think All Daddy knew this was going to happen?”
Hel looked curiously at Hecate, but Hecate only looked back at her mildly, and Hel nodded sagely before she waved a hand idly. “Right, right. Forget it. Let's pretend I don't know how much of you is Valthrudnir and how much of Valthrudnir is you.”
Hecate gave a thin smile at this, and then she asked quietly: “Has Loki chosen this moment to strike because of how thin reality has grown?”
The former Goddess of Helheim looked up thoughtfully at this, and then she shook her head and murmured: “Now that, that is the real question, isn't it? Why now? Loki easily could have attacked from the shadows, or waited a few more years... what is it, just what is it, that drew him out? Now, oh yes, that sounds feasible enough... I can't imagine it was very easy to make that initial hole in reality, no matter how strong he's gotten. The only reason Draconequus get out of Ginnungagap is because they start believing it's absolutely impossible, after all! And nothing, nada, zip, zilch, nothing, is supposed to get out of the Void.
“But Loki did. Why now? A little earlier, and you would have been easy pickings. Or he could have continued to gather his strength, found out about all these things that have caused him stumbles and missteps now. Why is he attacking now, what is it that woke him up?” Hel almost snapped, her voice rising as she glared at her reflection in the window, hands clenching tightly around the head of her cane before she took a slow breath and murmured: “Well, we'll figure it out, sooner or later. Hopefully sooner, because later might mean later, after we're all under his rule, and the world is no more, and the Void is all, once again.”
Hecate studied Hel silently, and then Hel yawned and stretched slowly, saying finally: “I'm bored and tired. I'm going back to my room. I've got some ponderin' to do.”
Hecate only nodded, and Hel huffed before she spun around and poked the Jötnar mare with her cane several times, complaining: “Not even going to offer me a hoof or a horn or a magic blast or anything? Some nerve! Kids today!”
The Jötnar mare rolled her eyes, and then she finally waved a hoof moodily, and Hel squawked before she vanished from the spot. Hecate shook her head slowly, then she sighed and closed her eyes, wondering uneasily what it was that Hel had been getting at, and whether or not she was right; that the question wasn't why Loki had come back, but why now.
But she was afraid of what answers that question could bring.
Cadence laid in her old bed in her old apartment, looking up at the same mismatched spot on the ceiling that she always had when she'd stayed here. And for a few moments, it was easy, so very, very easy, to convince herself that nothing had happened, that it had all just been a dream, that she was going to get up in the morning and find that Shining had used her shampoo again and left a mess in the kitchen she would have to clean up, but also thoughtfully put on the coffee and left out her favorite scones for her...
Cadence took a slow breath, then closed her eyes, and slipped out of bed. Her golden hooves hit the floor with a gentle tap, and her long, whip-like tail swayed through the air behind her as her white wings flexed. Her mane fell across her eyes, already so long she would have to trim it again: there was just no keeping it in check anymore.
She strode silently to the kitchen, and leaned through the doorway before her eyes widened in surprise: the counter was clean, and tea had been brewed, and Thesis was sitting at the little two-pony table going over data. It wasn't perfect: Thesis had covered the table with crumbs from the scones he'd messily eaten, and when he grinned at her, it was through a mouthful of blueberry muffin.
Cadence thought of the life she'd lived before, as a princess, and compared it to the life she lived now.
This was better.
The mare sighed and smiled despite herself as she walked over to pour herself a mug of tea, then she pointedly took a plate out of the cupboard to set her scones on. But Thesis only swallowed his food and shrugged, smiling amiably back as he said: “Didn't want to go digging around in things without permission. Some people consider that rude.”
“I'm sure. You're very thoughtful.” Cadence said wryly as she joined him at the table, then she asked in a quieter voice: “Any luck?”
“We've been signal-blocked, that much I'm sure of. I doubt Auriculos is still around to help them, but I'm pretty sure Loki knows the basics of Decretum tech, so they're probably carrying a portable scrambler. Seneschal can't detect them either... but since we can still communicate, it does at least mean they don't have a signal blocker. Or at least they haven't set it up properly. Yet.”
“Great.” Cadence said wryly, and then she shook her head before she suddenly blurted out, before she even realized what she was saying: “I had no idea that Daddy knew Luna and Celestia. I.. I guess I forget a lot that he's had a life before... me.”
She looked lamely down, but Thesis only smiled before he said seriously: “If it's any consolation, I can barely remember my life before I met you.”
“That was awful.” Cadence said dryly as she looked up, and Thesis shrugged, and just looked at her. That was all he had to do, and the mare softened before she continued quietly, as she silently rolled her muffin back and forth on her plate: “Just... I don't want to say it hurt, because that sounds even more childish, but I guess it kind of did. From both sides. I mean, I should have known, Luna and Celestia have been around forever, but... I never processed it. But the fact that he'd known them when they were young princesses, when Equestria was just being founded and they had just been selected as rulers and all...”
“It sounded like he was a big inspiration to them. That must have been why they were so hard on him, but wanted to keep him alive. Or... I don't know. It seemed like Celestia knew more than Luna.” Thesis paused, then he gave a small smile. “Not that that seems to be any different from any other world.”
Cadence couldn't help but laugh a little, looking away before she chewed slowly at her lip, then finally said: “I feel used.”
Thesis cocked an eyebrow, and Cadence sighed before she said finally: “Celestia... both tried to stop me and encouraged me to do this. But she never told me anything, never said anything about how Daddy was... someone she'd known, even been mentored by. She had to have known I was chasing down Sombra, that I was going to either save him or end his suffering... and she-”
“Cadence, either way, you would have done it, right? Knowing or not knowing.” Thesis said gently, and Cadence scowled, but Thesis shook his head as he held up a hoof. “I've learned that almost everyone has some secret reason for helping someone else. There's almost always, always something in it for them. It's sad, but it's true. People give for the return.
“But the past is the past, and does that make things any different? What precisely would telling you all of that accomplished? Sure, you would have 'known' more. But honestly, Cadence...” Thesis gave a small smile. “How mad would you have been that Celestia was 'trying to make it all about her?' or 'I didn't want this to turn into some goddamn quest for Equestria.'”
Cadence snorted in amusement, then she sighed and rested her face against her hoof, picking up her muffin in the other as she muttered: “You know me too goddamn well and I hate it.”
She took a bite out of it, chewing slowly before she finally said: “Celestia still should have told me. I... I would have handled it not great, yes. I know right now I'm being stupid, I'm at least mature enough to know that-”
“But not mature enough to not be stupid.” Thesis said mildly, then he winced when Cadence scowled and flicked a blueberry at his face.
“Shut up, you.” she grumbled, then she took another bite out of her muffin and lowered her head in thought. After a few moments, she swallowed and looked up, saying in a quieter voice: “I know I still have some... getting better to do. I can lead a team but I still can't... lead myself. That's why I need... people like you in my life. To help me. To stand up to me, to guide me.”
Cadence chewed on her lip, lowering her head as she continued quietly: “It's not that I never respected or admired Luna or Celestia. How could I not? But they aren't... what I needed. I got frustrated. And it wasn't Celestia's fault that this whole world, it wasn't-”
Cadence was interrupted by a knock at the door, and she sighed tiredly before she climbed to her hooves with an apologetic smile to Thesis, saying moodily: “Assholes better not have locked themselves out of their room again.”
The ivory mare approached the door and yanked it open, then she blinked in surprise before her jaw dropped at the sight of the old, faded orange stallion in the wheelchair who was sitting outside her door. The ancient unicorn was wearing a sharp gray suit with a neat black tie, all four hooves covered in tight black boots. His blind eyes were covered by dark, wraparound glasses, his head by a simple gray cap, and his features were burnt and scarred and older than she remembered, but there was only one pony this could possibly be.
“Well? Are you going to invite me in or not, Cadence?” Amadeus Archon asked, and Cadence's lips spread in a wide smile even as the nurse behind him gestured apologetically. “Oh, ignore her, Patience still doesn't understand there are more important things than 'being nice.'”
“You crotchety old bastard, I... I mean, uh, excuse me.” Patience smiled lamely, clearing her throat and sketching a curtsy in her uniform when Cadence looked at her with amusement. “It is very nice to meet you, Miss Cadence, Archon has told me a lot about you.”
“I told you to get lost, too. Get lost.” Archon said grouchily, waving a hoof back at the nurse before he grabbed the wheels of his chair, and Cadence snorted as she stepped back out of the way as he began to roll himself forward, only to grumble when the unicorn nurse quickly grabbed the handles of his chair. “I'll be fine with-”
“They haven't even invited you in, Archon!” Patience said in an exasperated voice, before she smiled awkwardly at Cadence. “The General-”
“I'm not a General anymore. I'm Director Archon now.” Archon answered dryly, reaching up and flicking his tie distastefully, then immediately smoothing it flat and tucking it down, Cadence noted with an amused smile. “Had to stop wearing my uniform. Too many people forgetting that. People still forget it even when I wear these rags, though, so I should have kept the damn thing instead of letting Patience pack it away. Now am I coming in or not?”
“Yeah, of course. I can handle him if you want, Patience, thank you for uh... helping.” Cadence said quickly, and Patience smiled awkwardly, mumbling something before she hurriedly spun away and ran down the hall, yanking out a pack of cigarettes before she was even around the corner. “You put ponies through a lot of crap, Archon.”
Archon grunted, then he wheeled himself smoothly into the apartment and turned himself towards the kitchen: Cadence was rather amazed by how well he moved, considering she knew at least half the stallion had to be prosthetics, and he was blind on top of that. “I only do what needs to be done, that's all.”
Cadence strode after him, reaching out only once to stop him from banging against the wall before the stallion wheeled his way into the kitchen and stopped himself near the table. Cadence adjusted the wheelchair as she passed, and Archon frowned slightly as he sniffed the air, Thesis leaning back slightly and staring at the stallion before Archon asked: “You. You're Cadence's new coltfriend?”
“Yes. My name is Thesis. You must be Amadeus Archon. I've heard a lot-”
Archon cut him off with a grunt, looking up and down the stallion, and Thesis grimaced as he leaned back slightly before he winced when the blind old unicorn asked: “What's that look for? Have something to hide? Intimidated?”
Thesis mouthed slowly, but Cadence only rolled her eyes as she put on coffee, saying dryly: “Don't even start, Archon. Thesis is a little weird-”
“Hey!”
“And a bit of a momma's boy, but Hecate could give even you a run for your money.” Cadence said with a smile, then she sat down at the table and asked quietly: “How have you been? I'm... I'm amazed you're still alive.”
Archon grunted and shrugged, saying after a moment: “I had to come back for my grandson. He's growing up, you know. Doing well. Cadets. He's a terrible soldier. I never thought I'd be happy to see that. But you were a terrible soldier, too, and so was Shining Armor.”
Cadence smiled wider at this, and Archon paused before he sat back, digging a hoof inside his jacket as he grumbled: “I heard you found your father. And apparently you found this stud, too-” Thesis looked both offended and pleased at this. “-so why the hell are you back here? Some false sense of obligation, I expect.”
“I do have an obligation-” Cadence started, but Archon cut her off by raising his hoof, then tossing his wallet down on the tabletop.
“You don't.” he retorted shortly. “We can and will protect ourselves from any intruder, as we always have. We are not your obligation or your responsibility anymore. Now look at my boy. He's growing up.”
Cadence sighed and rolled her eyes, then she picked up his wallet and opened it before she softened as a chain of pictures in plastic rolled out, studying them silently. The foal was a blazing orange and looked like Archon must have, all those ages ago when the ancient unicorn had been a child, but his uniform was rumpled, and his cutie mark was a bright red star... “I know, I know. He's a mess. He's always a mess. But he's the bravest little son of a bitch you ever laid eyes on, Cadence. Fearless. He'll never be a commander, a captain, or hell, even a soldier. But he's going to save lives and make a lot of friends. Just you wait and see.”
“I believe it.” Cadence murmured, and then she laughed a little and shook her head slowly, looking up and saying softly: “Real proud of him, huh?”
Archon only gave her a thin smile, before he suddenly turned towards Thesis, asking: “How long was your career?”
“Do you have like super-eyes under there or something?” Thesis asked flatly, and Cadence half-winced, but Archon only grinned. “I began when I was sixteen, trainees. Was quickly made Homeguard and-”
“Oh, I see. You're another royal brat, are you? Born a Prince?” Archon asked, and Thesis slowly blinked as Archon tilted his head to the side, his ears twitching subtly in a way that told Cadence he was listening for and picking up every single cue he could from both of them, from the way they moved to the tone of their voice: it was impressive. “Were you dishonorably discharged?”
“Yes and no. I was moved to a secret unit, the Dark Angels. I led espionage and assault missions.” Thesis answered.
“Terrorism, then. Or that's what we call it when the 'bad guys' do it. How many lives did you take, soldier?” Archon asked evenly, and Thesis smiled faintly as he glanced down as Cadence straightened, frowning and opening her mouth-
“I don't know.” Thesis said honestly, and then he bit his lip before he looked up and said quietly: “A lot. Soldiers, and yes, civilians, too. And that was before my 'extended duties' as a Replicant.” He halted, then looked evenly at Archon, seeming to meet his invisible gaze. “But those days are over now. I'm back to where I started. I won't become that again, and I won't kill unless I have no other choice.”
There was silence for a moment, and then Archon said softly: “It's cruel to make a filly love you when you're dying.”
“I didn't say I wasn't selfish.” Thesis answered candidly, before he asked: “How the hell did you lose... I'm guessing... three legs, your sight, and... sixty percent of the skin off your body?”
“Fifty-five.” Archon said dryly, before he looked over at Cadence as he answered: “Stupid heroism. We ended up trapped with a hostile we'd been tracking, who was carrying an artifact we had to retrieve. I sent Cadence and her team onward after we retrieved it, then stayed to stop the hostile.”
“He burnt himself and Pain alive. I don't know how you survived.” Cadence said, and Archon smiled at her dryly.
“Repeating it won't make me dead.” he said, and Cadence sighed and shook her head before the unicorn shrugged and said finally: “Promises. And it's hard for a unicorn to die from his own magic.”
Cadence nodded after a moment, figuring that was the best answer she was going to get, and Archon looked at her for a moment longer before he turned his eyes back to Thesis. “Briefing?”
“Oh no. No, I am not wheeling you along with us too, Archon. You don't need to know anything.” Cadence said firmly, and Archon snorted at this.
“Don't worry, I'm not very interested in losing my last working limb.” Archon said distastefully, before he pressed his hoof against Cadence's nose, making her wrinkle up her muzzle and scowl. “You'll need someone to keep you appraised of the situation and any new developments. This isn't like before, where we were looking to neutralize a single target and then push into unknown territory beyond. I've heard that this time there's a very real threat to Equestria as well.”
“Goddammit, Miss Take.” Cadence grumbled, before she frowned at the quirk of Archon's muzzle. “Wait... Shine?”
“He's a little more responsible than he was in the past. And worried about you. I hope you don't let your feelings for each other screw up everything you've both worked for.” Archon said bluntly, and Thesis put on a look of mock betrayal.
Cadence picked up the remains of her muffin and flung them into Thesis' face as she glared at Archon, snapping: “I don't have feelings for him anymore! He's just a friend and... it's better that way and I know he and Miss Take are... better. So shut up, Archon. You shut up too, Thesis.”
Thesis awkwardly reached up and wiped muffin off his face, and Archon snorted before he said dryly: “I don't know why any stallion would want to saddle themselves with you, Cadence. You're a nightmare.”
“She's a Swan, that's all.” Thesis said dryly, and then he shook his head before continuing: “We do appreciate the thought, Archon, sir, but how well would you be able to coordinate with us? And furthermore, what would it offer us, or your forces here? Wouldn't it be better to marshal the troops here into a full defense of Canterlot?”
“Not if your enemies decide to sneak around you while you're trying to root them out, and attack here. They want to send Cadence a message, correct? Then this must be a very appealing target for them.” Archon replied evenly. “It makes more sense to attack here than the Crystal Kingdom, as well. I know you've brought that facility we found online: I expect it has defenses and sensors of its own to alert you if something goes wrong.”
Thesis nodded a few times, giving a slight smile before he said finally: “Not bad. But you haven't completely answered the question.”
“I shouldn't have to, pup.” Archon retorted, sitting back in his wheelchair with a snort. “You can put together the rest yourself. You probably have. You just want me to spell it out for you, but I'm not in the business of spelling things out for officers who should already know their goddamn job.”
“Goddamn.” Thesis grumbled childishly, and then he sighed before nodding and saying finally: “Fine. I suspect this means you have some sort of uplink. Crappy magic uplink, I bet. A crappy magic uplink that cuts out every-”
“Ours might not be as fancy as yours, but we have walkie-talkies. Over the last few years we've decoded and reverse-engineered some of the technology they've dragged up from that pit under the Crystal Empire. Didn't take them long to break those doors open and start dredging it.” Archon turned towards Cadence, giving a wry smile. “Of course, everything of interest to the military sections seemed like it had been destroyed. I guess that was your doing.”
“Probably Hecate's. She has a thing about interfering as little as possible with other worlds. I'm surprised you could break in at all, though.” Cadence said, and Archon chuckled dryly.
“Thank Princess Twilight Sparkle for that. She was determined to find you. I don't know if it was more because she wanted to scold you or more because she was worried about you.” Archon said wryly, and Cadence smiled despite herself. “You left an impression on that one.”
“More of one than I thought I did.” Cadence murmured, and then she chuckled quietly before she shook her head and turned her eyes towards Thesis, saying finally: “Archon's a good guy. He'll do a good job of watchtower.”
“Well, since you're both teaming up against me, I guess there's nothing I can really say but okay.” Thesis grumbled, and Cadence gave him a wry smile, but Thesis only huffed and crossed his forelegs before he asked finally: “Can you provide any other mission support?”
Archon seemed to look right through Thesis before he nodded once, answering: “The basics. I don't know what bells and whistles you're used to, but we can keep you appraised of what's happening on the field and get in contact with people ahead of you. Help you avoid unnecessary bloodshed, in other words.”
“Darn, you know me, Cadence, always looking to cause unnecessary bloodshed.” Thesis paused, then said moodily: “I just made myself sad.”
“Then shut your dumb mouth and let's go... do whatever it is we need to so that...” Cadence halted, then she grimaced as she realized this likely meant she was going to have to do the one thing she had been avoiding. “This means I have to go meet with the Princesses now, doesn't it?”
“You can't run from them forever.” Archon said, and then he began to wheel himself back from the table. Cadence, however, almost jumped out of her chair to stop him, the wizened old unicorn scowling at her before he said moodily: “I'll hold your hoof if you need it, mare, but don't you start playing nursemaid to me too.”
“Shut up and sit. Your coffee's ready.” Cadence retorted, and Archon grunted at her, but relented. She smiled a little, then stepped away and grabbed a mug to pour him a cup, asking: “Black, right? And why don't you tell me more about your grandson. I don't even know his name.”
“Sterling Radiance. A good name, a strong name.” answered Archon as Cadence put the mug in front of him, and he didn't so much as hesitate to sweep it easily up in one hoof and bring it to his muzzle, sniffing it before he took a deep gulp of the steaming liquid. “Decent. Apart from the fact that everything you drink reeks of some kind of berry. At least it's not vanilla.”
“Hey, I happen to like vanilla.” Thesis said in an injured voice, like Archon had made some grave personal insult. Not that Archon cared, since he didn't even spare a look at the stallion. “Alright, serious question, Archon. Have there been any reports of suspicious activities or violent acts that we should know about? No offense, but you guys almost seemed prepared for this.”
Archon grunted, then he picked up his coffee and swirled it under his muzzle before he seemed to glance at Cadence. And when Cadence leaned forward slightly, he grimaced before he nodded almost grudgingly, muttering: “Fine. While I suppose that ever since the colts figured out there used to be some kind of portal in that facility, lately we've been experiencing anomalies on a much larger scale, yes. I'm sure you've been asked several times about the Brokenhearted by now. That was the only thing anyone could think of, of course, since that's the worst thing we've experienced in recent times.”
He fell silent, then he shook his head slowly. “We've had reports of strange equiforms using advanced weaponry coming out of several smaller towns... settlements, really, A lot of the initial reports came out of seahorse towns... coastal settlements and melting pots like Horseshoe Cove. And a lot of it was discarded: the victims were vagrants, unknowns, impossible to identify and impossible to track and little different from the usual rumors and fairytales we get out of towns like that.
“But the disappearances have started happening in more populated areas. More sightings, corroborating what's been said, but not much new information. Not until you showed up and killed those zebra.” Archon continued, and Cadence smiled dryly.
“Nzambi, they're called. Someone we thought we already dealt with... it looks like he's back. I still haven't pressed La Croix about it too much because I guess... I know he'll come to me when he knows what's going on.” Cadence shook her head, and Archon snorted.
“It doesn't matter if he 'knows' or not. You know better.” he chastised, before he rounded on Thesis and added shortly: “And that goes double for you, son.”
Thesis rose a hoof and opened his mouth, but Cadence quickly shoved a hoof over his face before she said dryly: “Thanks, Archon, really. I'll forward your complaints to my new boss.”
Archon grinned wryly at this before taking a sip of his coffee and swirling it meditatively in his jaws before he spat it back into the cup, Cadence wincing and scowling at him. He either didn't notice her irritation, or more likely, he just didn't care, as he said: “I never really saw you as a mercenary, Cadence. And that's all you really are, isn't it? A mercenary corporation.”
“Excuse me, but we prefer private military corporation, thank you very much.” Thesis answered in a miffed voice, before he added in a quiet, serious voice: “Our operations here are essential to both your defense and our own. Extradimensional internal defense, if you will.”
“You're a bit far from home to claim it's all about protecting your own country. I can't tell you how many times I've heard the 'foreign internal defense' excuse used so someone could make a quick buck and get a few pretty shiny toys.” He stopped, then added dryly: “Not that our Princess of the Sun would ever condone such behavior, of course.”
Cadence grunted, refusing to take the bait from Archon as she only looked at him moodily, but the unicorn was undaunted – and much more gossipy than she had remembered – as he continued: “But we had a few in the old days like that. I suppose... I used to be like that. And like breeds like.
“There have been a few military campaigns in recent years. Recent as in I remember them that is, many of these took place before you were adopted into the royal family, Cadence.” Archon sipped at his coffee again, swirled it, spat it back out into the cup. “Most of these were in response to aggravation on the borders, threats from other nations, and in one memorable instance, an attempt at secession from Equestria that led to a two week standoff with what was little more than a single small town in the middle of the nation, and was easily reclaimed the moment they ran out of food and supplies. I said we should march soldiers in. Celestia said wait. I thought it was stupid. I realize now that I was the stupid one. Stupid, and arrogant, and willing to shed blood over foals being foals.
“There were a few for-profit conflicts, however. Celestia loathed them and ended them as soon as possible, but they weren't all the product of greed and neglect; Equestria is a large country, and we haven't always lived such easy lives.” Archon shrugged. “There's a material used by mages called goldflax: fifty years ago we had a shortage of it because of a magical parasite.
“A difficult neighbor on one side of us happens to have a lot of goldflax, and the magic to deal with this pest. An ambassador is sent to negotiate, but at the same time a situation is created in which Equestria is 'forced' to intervene. We seize control of assets to 'prevent extended conflict,' and then return home after a sideshow.” Archon shrugged, saying quietly: “The magical devices that protect our sensitive materials from pests and infiltration are all based on appropriated technology. That's why they were capable of stopping the Changelings from gaining access to the treasury, but we weren't able to detect them until too late.”
Cadence smiled a little, and Thesis nodded slowly before he asked quietly: “How much war has this Equestria seen? You're rated as a Class B world... a world where conflict is known, where there are clear and present dangers, but they are not supposed to be extended or above a certain level.”
Archon grunted, then he asked dryly: “Class A the least dangerous? Because I can't imagine you see us as the second most dangerous world.”
A smile quirked at Thesis' muzzle: Archon had both figured something out and answered his question at the same time. “So it's not as bad as it sounds. But this is definitely leaning towards Class C. And from what I hear, those Brokenhearted were a Class C threat.”
Cadence grimaced at this, then she asked: “But you're sure there haven't been any Brokenhearted, right Archon?”
“Like I said, all we've heard about any of them lately came from the rumors. Now that those have been proven to be something else, I can say with certainty that there are no Brokenhearted left in Equestria.” Archon said, before he hesitated, and Cadence frowned slightly before the unicorn said almost grudgingly: “Although I did find old reports of what might be Brokenhearted in some ancient records.”
Cadence cocked her head as Thesis leaned forward slightly, and Archon sat back in his chair as he seemed to meet Cadence's eyes with blind and eternal gaze, saying quietly: “Ponies that couldn't be killed by conventional means, but they weren't any of the old forgotten ones, like the lich or the vampire. Just ponies. Ruthless, callous, heartless ponies who couldn't die.”
“As far as I'm aware, Valthrudnir never experimented with the Prometheus One. When he used it on... your father...” Thesis hesitated for a moment, but Cadence only gestured at him to go on, silently promising that she wasn't going to lash out or freak out or... take any other outs. “Well, even at that point he knew it wasn't going to work. He had already observed its effects on some other... unfortunate victims, and he used it on Serenite as revenge.”
“Revenge?” Cadence asked disbelievingly, and then she snorted before she lowered her head and muttered: “No, I get it. Daddy embarrassed him. Valthrudnir... he was always cruel, and stupid, and... I don't see how...”
“Because for better or worse he was my father. I can't change that. I can just make peace with it and embrace it.” Thesis shrugged and gave a brief smile, and then he shook his head slowly before he said quietly: “I really am sorry about your father. He didn't deserve it and the Prometheus prototype... it is like a virus, a disease. The infection drives him to attack others because it spreads best through direct contact. The fact that he was... transfigured only made the infection more potent, because Prometheus attacks the spirit as much as it does the body.”
Cadence was quiet, and Archon asked slowly: “But Sombra is no longer a threat, correct?”
“No. As long as his purifier is active, the disease is suppressed and so are the symptoms. The antibodies will remain and stop it from becoming... contagious, for lack of a better word, for a week or longer afterward, too. The symptoms just show up so quickly again because of...” Thesis smiled briefly, and Cadence understood: because the corruption had become her father's bloodstream, because the poisons had taken him over so completely... because Daddy has spent so long... sick. “But even if Sombra was infectious, Promethean transmission isn't purely biological or host-to-host.”
“I remember... Daddy said that unicorns were affected first, then Pegasi. Because of their magic.” Cadence said, and Thesis nodded.
“That's right. The easiest way to explain it is that the corruption requires an 'essence' it can feed off of. Magic is usually the most accessible: spiritual, vital essence is more... resilient, so to speak. That's why direct host contact is required for the infection to spread to earth ponies, who don't have a natural magic as much as they do a talent for shaping other energies.” Thesis explained, gesturing awkwardly with his hooves at nothing in particular as he searched for the best way to explain things.
Archon, however, simplified things by saying irritably: “Like Pegasus flu or unicorn's scorn. Simple.”
“Simple.” Thesis repeated dryly, and then he shook his head and said finally: “Yeah. Look, the long and short of it is that he's not dangerous.”
“Then leave it at that. I didn't ask for explanations.” Archon retorted, and Thesis scowled horribly before the old unicorn continued quietly: “We always theorized as much, anyway. Brokenhearted are compromised, first and foremost: they would be easier to corrupt.
“And, as I was saying, there have been Brokenhearted in this world before. Sombra isn't their cause. I doubt your Valthrudnir is, either. I'm sure it's happened in other worlds, other places and other times.” Archon shook his head, then he continued: “We've been developing countermeasures. Just in case it happens again, because as far as Equestria knows or cares, Sombra was defeated, but Cadence died with him. We'd like to leave it that way.”
Cadence gave a wry smile at this, asking in a half-amused voice: “Did you just politely ask us not to interfere?”
“This world can make its own fate. The worlds should make their own fates, even against impossible odds. We don't need your help.” Archon replied evenly.
There was silence for a moment, and then Thesis said dryly: “I'm not going to let you watch over us if you screw with us.”
“Don't insult me. I want you gone, not dead. The faster you leave, the better. And this way at least Equestria can remain involved and cognizant of its own fate.” Archon stopped, then he looked up and said quietly: “I think you're doing a good thing. I do. I just don't agree it's a necessary thing, even in dire circumstances. Empires rise and fall. All of them. You can't stop it: prolonging the inevitable just leads to more problems down the road.”
Thesis was silent for a moment as he thought about the anomalies, the energy readings, and he shifted slowly, but then looked up in surprise as Cadence answered in a quiet but firm voice: “This isn't about you. This is about us. About an enemy who is trying to hurt us by attacking vulnerable worlds. And even if it wasn't? You don't get to speak for the world or the universe either, Archon. If a... a stranger comes to attack an innocent world, we will not stand by. Then we come in. When a criminal breaks into your house, whether it's to steal from you or hurt you, you don't complain when the police show up and drag him away, whether you like the cops or not.”
“You're not police. You're vigilantes.” Archon gave a thin smile, saying ironically: “Even worse. You're mercenaries.”
“We're fixers. We're Orphans. We get the job done, and we leave. That is the way it has always been and that is the way it will always be. Our allegiance isn't to anything so blind as a nation or an ideology. It's to the cold, hard fact that someone has to be there to stop the things that go bump in the night, that normal ponies can't handle.” Cadence leaned forwards, meeting Archon's gaze with her own steely glare. “We don't tell the world what to do. But you don't get to tell the rest of the world how to live either, Amadeus.”
There was silence for a moment, and then Archon said softly: “I'm glad to see you've learned to speak your mind, Cadence. I see you have the same flair for the dramatic as ever, though.”
Cadence rolled her eyes, but had to resist the urge to smile as she sat back and answered: “Drink your coffee. Stop spitting it back in the damn cup, that's gross.”
“The caffeine will keep me up all night. But I miss the taste.” Archon answered with a shrug, before he reached into his jacket and pulled out a cigar, sticking this in his muzzle. His horn began to glow, but Cadence narrowed her eyes at him, and the unicorn grinned around the tube. “It's not your room anymore, Cadence. You're our guests now.”
Cadence rolled her eyes, and Thesis smiled wryly as he sat back, watching as the end of the cigar flared into flame for a moment before it became a glowing ember. For a few moments, they sat in silence as Archon breathed smoke in and out, then he finally blew a ring through his mouth before he said: “I'm sure the royals are waiting for us. You still remember where the throne room is, don't you?”
“I do. You're right, let's go. But first, we're going to pick up La Croix and Moonflower, and Daddy if he's there.” They climbed to their hooves, and Cadence immediately grabbed the back of Archon's chair, making him grumble as she pushed him along with a slight smile. “I think you'll like Daddy. Well, I mean... you'll hate him. But you'll like him, too.”
Archon only grunted as Thesis followed behind Cadence, the stallion smiling despite himself as he studied the two thoughtfully, how much they opposed, argued, and conflicted, and how in spite of all that, how much they clearly respected each other, as Cadence pushed the old stallion along in his wheelchair with almost daughterly affection.
The universe was a strange place and the worlds they entered were often exotic, for all their similarities, and full of things and philosophies they didn't understand, but Thesis thought that might be all the more reason to protect this endless garden of worlds.