A rock skittered across the cobbles, set into motion by a simple kick down a hill. Suddenly it became much more than a simple pebble. Now it was an object of motion, an object on a journey. A journey all of its own. A simple focus of just trying to get to the end of the street. A journey that was abruptly stopped as it bounced against Copper's hoof. He contemplated the small stone as it lay, now motionless, in the street a few hooves away from him. Then he traced the path that it had followed towards its origin. A crumbling building.
A crumbling building housing several batponies who were staring at him. Everypony stared at him as he walked as they always did. Eyes from every window and doorway. That is what happens when there are several thousand ponies together, all there because of him. Of course, there wasn't enough space for everypony and so every little nook and cranny was overflowing with ponies. But they all hid from him, like he was some sort of monster, stalking the streets. Too much work dulled the brain, he knew that. Which was why he went for long walks to help clear his head and think of anything but Pog. Such as the little pebble, or the dilapidated buildings.
He was so close to it all being finished. So little work to be done now, but he could not finish. Not just yet. There was...something. Something the Pog was waiting for. Mechanically, she was finished. Fully functional, but refusing to awaken. Night said that she cannot understand the dreams of the Pog and she has found a way to chase her out. He figured that that must be remnants of himself that got into her during the transfer of the Shattering. Bits of him must have gone along with it... If that was the case, she was going to be stubborn.
An entire week. She had not moved in an entire week and it was frustrating him. He had gone over ever last little detail in that week, and several of them he'd gone over twice. He couldn't stand to look at her now, so he went for a walk. This walk in particular had lead him to a part of the city he had not yet been to. One that might have at one point been considered a fancier area. A place where the wealthier batponies lived. Now it was just as crumbling and ruinous as the rest of it. But it did offer a great view. A great view of the barren and dead landscape that made up the world. It made him sick.
But not sick in the way that it should. It made him homesick. It reminded him so much of the Badlands that he could almost imagine, almost picture, off in the distance the gleam of Canterlot. That is what made him sick. It felt so close, yet so far. He'd been stuck here for months, and no matter what he did, he couldn't go home. Oh how he wanted- no, needed it. He needed to see something aside from tan and brown landscapes. He stamped his hooves on the ground a few times before turning around. This had to end.
~
He hit the door as hard as he could, which was hard enough to make it buckle slightly from the weight of his crystal steel limb. “I am done,” he shouted as he struck a control panel, sparks and bits of things going everywhere. He struck it several more times, until he was out of breath and there wasn't much of a control panel left. “I have no more patience.” He turned to the Pog, which lay on one side of the room upon a table.
It did not move.
“I cannot stand it anymore.” He moved up to the Pog and struck it. The ring of steel against steel filled the room. “I am done with this!” he shouted, striking it again. “Done with you!” He shoved it off of the table it was laying on.
It sprawled across the floor, then lay motionless.
“You impudent little child.” He bashed the table, splintering it. “Ignorant little...piece of junk.” He turned away, pacing back and forth. He was so angry. Every little bit of him was filled with rage. Misery and anger. He kicked the Pog before walking over to the smashed control panel, looking at it.
The Pog did not move.
“I did everything. I used your assistance. I used my knowledge. I used every bit of what this world had left to offer, but you just lay there. Like a selfish little child, caught up in her own dreams.” He spun on the motionless body. “What about me, hm? What about the rest of the damn world!? What about all those ponies out there who believe that I'm going to save them?!” He panted softly, staring at the Pog. “This isn't on me anymore,” now he was simply shouting at the void of everything; that damned thing that sent him here in the first place. “It is all on her! I cooperated! I did what I was supposed to! I have given my all to have this work!” Again he battered the console until he was out of breath.
The Pog did not move.
“This...isn't fair... For once in my life, can things just be fair?” He stared at the smashed console. “No, I suppose not. Life is never fair. It's a constant fight through pain for a shred of happiness. A grain of sand of good, under an ocean of blood and misery.” He laid down on the pieces of the console, doing his best to regain his composure.
Broiling rage. When was the last time he had been this angry? This upset? He stood up and began pacing. Nothing was working. He thought back, when he was first learning to manage his emotions. Back to when he was a foal and did the first thing that came to mind. He bit down onto his bare foreleg. Immediately he recoiled, letting out a yelp of pain.
He stared as blood trickled out of the fresh puncture wounds on his leg. His mind was racing, immediately distracted by this new development. He ran his tongue slowly across his teeth; his very sharp teeth.
The taste of his own blood seemed to be calming, but more so he was distracted now. Why were his teeth sharp? He could not stop running his teeth across them; feeling the points and razor edges. His mind raced as he tried to think. "Are there any other changes?" He mumbled as he patted himself slightly, which also splattered him in his own blood. But he couldn't feel anything different... "Mirror." He looked around, "I need a mirror."
He rummaged around, looking for something reflective; something he could see his reflection.
He tore through drawers, and cabinets, anything that he could search until eventually he found a reflective surface. He wasn't sure if it had been a mirror, or something else as it was in pieces, but it was enough to see himself.
His teeth clenched as he looked at himself. His hair had taken on a wispyness at the ends, his pupils had become slits and the copper color to them had a purple tint at the edges. And his teeth were indeed sharp.
He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly; he was tainted. Corrupted. "So this is what happens from prolonged contact with Night..." he mutters. He had been letting her close, too close, he knew. But she was comforting to him. Familiar to him on a level he couldn't understand. There just seemed to be some...consequences for that comfort.
He looked down, noticing his blood pooling around his hoof. Probably should take care of that... his thoughts had finally focused and he could think straight again. Now he was truly some sort of monster.
Slowly he made his way out, feeling rather numb to the world. As if everything didn't matter anymore. Things had stopped making sense rather abruptly, as if he had just woken up from a dream. Awoken from one hellscape to another, but he didn't care. His mind was so addled that he it took him a moment to realize that a crowd had gathered.
Apparently he had had made quite the racket in all of his anger and frustration. This was actually beneficial, as he didn't know where any sort of medical supplies were. “Bandages,” he said, looking at the crowd of batponies.
But none of them moved, they all stood there motionless.
“Bandages,” he said again, louder this time. Their lack of movement frustrated him. “Now!” he shouted and they scattered. He took a deep, slow breath. When had this transformation happened? Was it gradual, or did his fit of anger cause its onset? He would have to speak with Gears.
The thought of Gears caused him to look around and take in his surroundings. In the distance he could see batponies going about whatever they were doing, the odd sun was high in the sky and it actually looked like a...nice day. It actually made him feel better. “Prophet?”
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Gears approaching him, flanked by another batpony carrying a rather large medical bag. Copper lifted his hoof, showing it to the other batpony who moved and began cleaning off the blood. “That title is beginning to annoy me,” he muttered and then looked at Gears, who actually flinched at his gaze.
“Wh-what happened?” Gears said, speaking rather softly as he moved over to Copper.
“It doesn't matter.” He took another deep breath as he looked up at the barren sky. “None of it matters anymore...it's pointless.” The batpony tied off the bandages and Copper looked at them. “Thank you,” he said softly and the batpony actually looked confused as it backed away.
“Are you alright?” Gears asked, a question that Copper felt he asked a few too many times as far as Copper was concerned. It was a question that everypony asked him far too often.
Copper didn't answer and began walking. He felt numb all over...the sort of numbness that one gets when the body just doesn't understand how to comprehend the sheer amount of pain it's in. He couldn't feel his leg. He couldn't feel any of his legs, not the one he'd bitten, not the one in its case, and not the back two that were helping to drive him forward. It was like his body was on autopilot, walking out into the wasteland.
He was vaguely aware of Gears following him. Gears would probably follow him to the end of any world. Give his life for him. And Copper hated that. There had been rare moments in Coppers life when he actually would prefer it if he were dead, and this was one of those moments. “Prophet?”
His mind had been so occupied with nothing that Copper had not even noticed that he had collapsed. He couldn't feel the ground. Not the air. He wasn't sure if he was even breathing. Yet somewhere his curiosity stirred. “Do I look different?”
Gears stared at him. “I...don't understand what you mean, Prophet.”
“From when you first saw me has my appearance changed?” Copper wondered what his eyes were focusing on, he couldn't tell.
“I...never got a good look at you until you overthrew the Priest...but you look no different...aside from tired.” Gears shifted nervously, unsure of what he could possibly do in such a situation.
“So it has been since the start.” He found it annoying that Night was not there to confront, but at the same time he was glad that she was not. He would have yelled at her; been cross with her. It was not her fault, he knew that. But she had tainted him, whether she had meant to or not. Not to the extent as others the other nightmare had, but maybe that was simply because she was young and was not as powerful. She didn't have as much influence.
“Why...are you worried about your appearance?” Gears had sat down nearby.
“What keeps you going, Gears?” He ignored the question. “Why did you not give up like so many others? What is the point of living to you?”
Gears brow furrowed. Copper had to admit that although he was rather a genius when it came to technology, Gears didn't understand most other concept. “Am I not supposed to want to live?”
“But why would you want to?”
“I don't see a reason not to.”
“But what of the struggle?” Copper said as he sat up. “You have struggled for so long, for no reason. Because others have ruined your life.” He was looking at Gears, trying to find some sort of semblance of his own mind in conversation. “Beaten down. Beaten up. Battered. And starving the entire time.”
Gears looked down at the ground; he could never look Copper in the eyes. “I don't want to die,” he said after a long pause.
“Even if it means living every day exactly like the rest? With no hope? No chance of things getting better? You would rather live like that?”
Again there was a long pause before Gears answered, “Yes.”
“Look at me,” Copper said, his mind finally seeming to catch hold of something and was trying to start itself back up.
But Gears didn't look up.
“Gears.” He saw him flinch and took up a gentler tone. “Please, look at me.”
There was hesitation but eventually Gears lifted his head, looking at Copper. It was the first time that he had done so when Copper was looking directly at him. And it was the first time Copper really looked at him in return. The first thing that Copper thought was how young Gears was. Several years younger than himself, but just as battered. Just as haggard as him. They had both lived a harsh life, and yet Gears had not given up. There had probably been moments where he had, just like Copper had.
The more Copper stared at him, the more understanding of Gears he had, and he felt that Gears was having the same sort of understanding. There was no doubt in his mind now, this was him. Gears had to be the same as himself. Suddenly he felt exhausted as the numbness faded away. “We all have our own way,” Copper said as he stood up and walked back the way he had came, leaving Gears to his own devices. “Life keeps going as long as we want it to...or until it is stolen from us.”
He walked back into the Tardis, closed the door and then laid down on the floor in a corner. His eyes closed of their own accord; he could not keep them open even if he wanted to. This was a level of fatigue he had not felt in a long time.
There was nothing he could do now, but curl up and sleep. To wait for his body to recover. He closed his eyes and let exhaustion wash him away.
~
It was a rare moment when Copper wished that he still dreamed. This was one of them. This was, without a doubt, one of those times. He didn't want to be alone with his thoughts at the moment.
He had just had a severe mental breakdown. It had been a while since he had had one of those. But knowing it happened, and dealing with it were two completely different monsters. It was a monster that had him by the throat and he had no way of fighting it.
"You are mad at me..." He had not noticed Night come to him.
"No," he said, looking at her. "I am upset, but not at you." He had to actually think in whether or not that was the truth or just a comforting lie, but it felt mostly true. He wasn't upset with her specifically, just what she had done.
"Yes you are..." She looked like a child being scolded.
Just looking at her made Copper feel some sort of semblance of himself. "C'mere," he said as he raised a hoof up. She hesitated, but then approached him slowly. Once she got within his reach he pulled her in close, holding her tightly. He remained silent, content in the moment to hold onto her.
At first she was tense, or at least as tense as a creature made of solid smoke can be, but she slowly relaxed, pressing into him. "She will not help us?" she asked softly.
"No."
"Then...what do we do now?"
Copper stared off into the distance of the dreamscape. "Make her."
~
The scrape of the crystal steel against the cobbles created a sort of sound like bells ringing. "You don't want to cooperate? Fine," Copper muttered as he dragged the Pog down the street. "I told you I don't need your help. I don't need you to cooperate. You're just a catalyst. A battery. I'll make you regret your stubbornness." He shoved her up against a wall. "Priest!"
Then ragged pony looked up from it's place on the floor. "Yes, Prophet?"
“You're going to assist me. Get out of the cage." He moved towards the cathedral as he heard the cage open and the Priest practically dragged himself out.
The cage had not been locked for sometime now. "What help could I possibly be?" he asked, his voice was almost as ragged as he was.
"What influence on the cathedral did the Other have?" Copper asked as he pushed open the door.
The Priest hesitated as he limped over to Copper. "The Other guided the construction from the beginning and was quite specific about its construction...long before construction of the towers was even discussed."
The Other was patient and weaved it's plans over years, decades, maybe even centuries. "Where are the plans?"
"Destroyed."
"Of course," Copper grumbled as he looked at the arch of the door. "How did you communicate with the Other? Was there some sort of special ceremony when you were bound to it?"
Again the Priest hesitated. "H-how..." He shook his head. "Yes. When the cathedral was finished...everything seemed to be going so well...everything was nice...everypony was happy."
"Where did you stand during the ceremony?" He looked at the Priest and found it odd that he did not flinch as others did.
The Priest walked just inside the cathedral and turned. "It happened when I crossed the threshold."
Copper hazarded a guess, "So the entire cathedral is some sort of transmitter." Why else would the Other have guided the building so closely? "Good." He moved over and dragged the Pog towards the cathedral.
"If I may ask...what is that, Prophet?"
"Pog," he said simply, but decided to elaborate to avoid further questioning, "A machine that can open a door to another world. But she isn't cooperating, so I'm going to make her do it."
Then Priest stared at Pog. "How will you do that?"
Copper rolled his neck in such a way that it popped and crackled. "By wiring into her nervosystem and blasting components with electricity until I get the proper response."
He gaped at Copper a moment. "You're going to torture her?"
He hesitated, looking down at Pog. "In essence..." he ran his tongue over his teeth, testing their sharpness. "Yes. Yes I am."
"But...why?"
Copper looked at the Priest. "It will be the first time she feels physical pain. She has suffered much emotional pain, but that isn't enough. She wants to be alive, but live in a dream. That's not how life works. She has to learn that."
"That is a very harsh lesson to teach..." His gaze moved from Copper down the road towards ponies pulling a cart.
"That is why I have to teach it. Why it has to be me to do it. I gave her a life to live, and I have to make sure she understands her actions, or lack there of, have consequences."
Gears was at the head of the cart. "Wh-where shall we set it up, Prophet?"
Copper gestured to the door. "Just inside the cathedral." He watched as the ponies to set up according to his instructions.
The Priest sat beside him. "And what if she does nothing?"
"Then the pain will continue until she does."
There was a silence that fell over the area. The only noise was that of the machines construction.
It was an hour before they finally finished the mash of machine that took up the doorway, inside and out. "It it is done, Prophet..." Gears said, little out of breath.
"Very good job, Gears. Now," he moved towards Pog and pushed her up against what could be called a chair, securing her with large metal clamps.
"Truly a thing for torture," the Priest said, but Copper ignored him.
He hooked many things up to her, having to open several panels in order to do so. "Spread the word, Gears." He stepped away, flicking a switch as he did. "We are leaving today." There machine sparked and hummed loudly.
~
It did not take long for the crowd to begin forming, ponies with bags filled with what little belongings they had. Copper stood by a large hoof sized button that was wired to the machine.
There were murmurs and a lot of quiet talking; all the ponies wondering what was going on. "Prophet?" somepony said, but Copper ignored them.
The machine was being fed by her own power supply, but to an unmanaged level from a source she would not be able to take. He was waiting for the last little light to click on, showing the contraption was fully charged. The moment he saw the little red light, he pressed the button.
There was a bright flash and the roar of electricity was almost loud enough to drown out the shriek of pain. Almost. When the energy died down, her eyes opened. The eyes that Copper had spent two days making. The eyes that until now, she had not used. This was the first time she was seeing the real world.
The light clicked on.
Copper pressed the button again.
The light returned and the scream she let out echoed louder than the roar of the machine, many of the batponies backed away as the electrical arcs died down. She spasmed and twitched. "P-please!"
The light clicked on.
Copper pressed the button.
Again she screamed, trying to form words as she writhed and spasmed against the clamps holding her in place. "Please!" she cried. "Please stop!" She could not physically cry, he had not given her that.
The light clicked on.
"Prophet!" Gears shouted. "That is enough!"
"No!" Copper spun on him, pointing his hoof at him. "She will learn! She will learn what it means to go against me! What it means to get in my way!" He turned and pressed the button.
She shrieked and spluttered, trying to drown out the pain with her own screaming. Copper knew that kind of tactic. He knew that tactic all too well. "No more! P-please! Please!"
Then light clicked on.
"Copper! Stop!"
He froze, pain seized him as his arm locked up. He was fighting; struggling against himself. Breathing became hard and he was panting. This was not him. All this had not been him. “She will pay,” the voice of Night echoed in his head and each word like needles in his skull.
“Please...Copper...stop.” It was a struggle for him to even look at the little pony that had come up: Roseluck. He could see in her eyes that she realized something was wrong.
“Night,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Stop.”
“She will suffer. She will pay for her selfishness.” His vision was going dark and he could see black smoke creeping across the ground around him. It gathered around the button, trying to press it. “If she just cooperated we would all be safe. We would all be home.”
He was losing himself. He could feel his mind going fuzzy, bits of things disappearing. Suddenly he felt something press against him. Roseluck was trying to hold onto him, to hold him there. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on that. To focus on this little pony and ignore everything else. He needed to focus. “Night...” he managed. “You're...hurting me...”
Suddenly it stopped and he gasped for air, falling back away from the button and nearly onto Roseluck. He panted heavily, trying to bring his own head under control. This had not been his idea. Night had used him to torture Pog... He felt as though his skin was made of needles. Roseluck was still holding onto him and he returned the gesture, holding her in turn. “Copper?” she said, looking up at him.
“Thank you...” he said, still out of breath. Roseluck stepped away and smiled softly at him. He moved towards Pog quickly.
“I-I'm sorry...” she sobbed. “I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry...” she muttered over and over again.
“No...no...shh...” He pulled her free of the clamps, embracing her. “No no...I'm sorry...I didn't know what I was doing until it was far too late...I am so sorry... I really am a monster... How could I ever allow such a thing to happen...”
Pog was still shaking, spasming slightly. Copper assumed that it was due to residual electricity in her system...she wasn't built to handle that sort of thing. That's why it had been so effective. He was going to need to have a serious talk with Night later. It had never occurred to him that he would have to give a 'why not to torture' lesson, but he may have to. “I-I'm sorry...” Pog said again. She was making heaving and panting noises, despite not needing to breath. It was probably some sort of instinct that carried over from Copper, or something in her programming. “I-I shouldn't...have been s-so selfish...and...and...”
“Shh...shh...it's alright. It's your first time with the ability to truly dream. It makes real life seem pointless.” Copper pulled away from Pog, looking at her. She was staring at the crowd of batponies.
Copper realized that there was still a crowd gathered around them. “I have been so selfish...” she muttered as she pulled away from Copper.
“How do you feel?” Copper asked, curious of her state of being now as he looked her up and down. There was no physical damage sustained, but he may have damaged something internally.
“No permanent damage...I think...” Her brow furrowed slightly; he had given her the ability to emote a wide variety of expressions.
He started to close up the panels he had opened during the unfortunate things that had just happened. “None physical...but I am worried about your mental state after such an affair...” he muttered as he closed the last panel.
“Emotional damage...” She was twitching slightly as the residual electricity was released.
“Can you stand?” he asked as he stepped back. She was slumped on the spot, as she had not even moved of her own accord as of yet. “Take it slowly.” He would have preferred doing such basic tests back in a safe area, one without so many watchful eyes.
It took her a moment to stand, but she managed it. “It is different...than I thought it would be. This...existence...”
“I have done my best,” Copper said as he moved to the side, detaching the button that was delivering shocks. “Can you access the Shattering?”
“Yes,” there was no hesitation to her answer. He wondered if it had been a fearful prompt to give him the answer she knew he wanted.
“And you can use it?”
This time she hesitated, looking up at the large cathedral, and then at him. “I am to use this as a...catalyst?”
“Correct. It should be able to amplify your abilities and allow you to use the Shattering with ease.”
She took a moment to examine it before stepping out into the courtyard and Copper followed. Ponies backed away from her, or perhaps it was Copper they backed away from. He wasn't sure which would have been worse. “Do I need some sort of...destination?”
Copper had thought about this previously and shook his head. “No. It will work. Because if it does not, I will use every ounce of knowledge I have in order to destroy the being that brought me here.”
“That would make the Other win...”
“I don't care,” the tone of his voice ice cold. “I am sick of that thing using me and I will make the Other win if it doesn't let me go home.”
Pog looked concerned, but nodded slowly as she looked at the the large entryway. They always built doorways so large. She stared at it intently and Copper could hear the whirring and grinding of gears inside her. Suddenly the ground around her hooves cracked and the air split.
It was hard to tell what exactly was on the other side. It was not as clear as when Copper had done it, but that must have been due to magic stabilizing, or focusing it. “You must be the last one through. And I will be right beside you,” he said softly to Pog, who's entire focus was on the large crack between worlds. He turned to the crowd. “This is our way out.” There were already ponies moving towards it, picking up things that they had set down during the wait. “Take it while you can.”
Gears moved up to him. “You are sure, Prophet?”
He looked at him, trying not to glare. “If I am wrong, then I am wrong.”
Now the King approached him. This was a pony that Copper had forgotten even existed. “And how can we be sure it is safe?”
“I will go first,” rasped the Priest as he moved towards the portal. There had been no doubt in some ponies minds that this was their way out, but now Gears had given them doubt.
“I'm not going to wait for your cockamamie power struggle bull!” somepony shouted as they charged past them and through the crack. Several followed. Then it was as if a flood was washing over them as batponies went through the split.
“It seems the ponies have spoken,” Copper said as he watched them go. “They need no King. They need no Priest. They need no Prophet.” He turned to the three ponies staring at him: Gears, the King, and the Priest. “Consider the prophesy fulfilled. I will no longer be your prophet.”
“But Pr-”
He glared at Gears. “I swear to Celestia, Gears. If you, or anyone else calls me prophet, they will regret it.” He held the glare on Gears until he slunk away into the crowd, to go and gather his things and go through the portal himself.
The King was next to leave, “You have done well, and I am sorry for ever having doubted you.” With a turn befitting a pony with the title of King, he departed.
There was silence, aside from the noise of the crowd, as Copper and the Priest looked at one another. But it was Copper who looked away first, in order to watch the crowd move. “They will need guidance.”
“You are far more befitting that than I.”
“Not in the slightest. You do not seem to understand that I am abandoning you.” The Priest looked confused. “All of you. I am leaving you to your own devices. I will not lead you and I will not allow any of you to follow me. Pog and I will find the Doctor, and we will leave.”
“You are so confident that you will find him?”
“I have no doubt that I will. Or that he will find me.” He looked back at the Priest. “Remember what the Other has done, to you and your fellow ponies. Treat that world better.”
The Priest said nothing as he backed away and disappeared into the crowd. Copper took a deep breath before looking at Pog, who seemed to be struggling less. As if to answer his question, she spoke, “It is stable. It took a lot more to get it going than I thought it would but...it's easy to hold open.”
Yet he had not been able to do it. Or perhaps the door was slammed shut behind him...he couldn't be sure. “Good. It looks like almost everypony has gone through.” He noticed how some ponies were actually bringing carts, filled with belongings and ponies. It actually brought a smile to his face.
He really hoped that things would be easy on the other side...but of course they would not be. His life was a never ending cacophony of struggle. “Is it time for us to go?”
“Yes,” he said softly as he stood up, looking at the rift a moment before they began their walk towards it. In the back of his head he could feel Night, hiding herself somewhere deep inside his head to try and hide from him. He took a deep breath as he stepped across the threshold with Pog.