//------------------------------// // Omake of questionable canonity: Soul Silver // Story: Diary of the Dead // by AppleTank //------------------------------// A small family of three sit alone in the single ancient train car. It ran on non-standard track gauge, and none of the locals were even sure who operated it. It simply pointed off into a unpopulated forest, and nopony was willing to venture out to explore it without reason. Even being able to get a ticket involved mailing a request to some obscure location. Turns out it was a mailbox in an empty lot, according to the post office. ”I’m sorry, ma’am. Equestria has no known cure for this. It is fatal.” The train car itself looked to be pretty high class, if it didn’t appear to be over a hundred years old and only partially maintained. The seats were still comfortable, if faded. Most of the interior decoration was threadbare, discolored, or some combination of the two. It kept the snow and chill out though, as the engine plowed incessantly through a frozen wilderness. The train wheezed and coughed to a stop at the station. Like the engine, there was nobody waiting for them at the stop. It too was worn and cracked from the harsh weather so far north, with warped planks and weathered paint. It looked like the front half chopped off an ancient train station, and left to rot. There was only a cleared path leading away from the exit. It never really was a choice. Took any favor they could get, every bit they could scrounge, and yet six months had went by with little hope. If anyone had a cure, they weren’t telling. Two horns glowed, cautiously pushing away at a mass of trees. The cleared path was easy to traverse despite the snowfall. Five minutes in, and still the path kept going. For a moment, they considered going back Then the two looked back at their precious cargo, and pushed on. The darkness of their despair was pierced with terrified, desperate hope when a voice said, “I see you two are looking for a miracle.” Was it truth? Or was it a bargain from Tartarus? The path was straight for half an hour, before terminating in a small cottage in the clearing. Judging by how long it took to get here, and how far it was from any settlement of Equestria, the structure was basically in the middle of nowhere. They weren’t able to do anything about their suspicions, and went on until they reached the door and its rather out-of-place Welcome Mat. With a slight creak, the door opened before them, letting a ray of light enter the darkness. There was a loud clacking sound inside, like a bag of wooden cubes. The two ponies gulped, and hesitantly entered. The door slammed shut. Or tried to, as it got jammed on the pair’s cart. There was an awkward silence as the guests moved the cart to the side so the door could properly close. The guests looked at each other under their horns’ glow, then back into the shadows. “Are you ... Doctor Grey?” “Indeed. I was told to expect you. Sweetie Belle, is it?” The female shook her head. “No, my daughter, she’s on the cart.” Her horn glowed and brought the drowsy bundle over in front of her, before cradling the tiny form in her hoof. “We’re her parents. I’m Cookie Crumbles.” Her husband nodded. “Hondo Flanks.” “Nice to meet you both.” With a loud thunk, a dim lamp turned on in front of them, revealing a plain desk. Behind it was the mare herself, Dr. Grey. She had a tan coat and what seemed like a grayscale mane. Most of her body and expression was hidden by the heavy shadows from the lamp’s angle. Dr. Grey stretched out a hoof, which Hondo reached out to shake. He stepped back with his wife and glanced at his hoof awkwardly. “Uh, is your hoof...?” Grey chuckled. “Indeed, it is wood. This body you see here is also constructed of wood. I have a ... condition, where I would prefer to minimize contact with other living things. Enough about me. What is the issue with your daughter?” Cookie stepped forwards, carefully placing her youngest daughter on the desk. “All the doctors we’ve asked have told us that our Sweetie has an incurable heart condition, and that any drug or magic would only be able to delay the inevitable.” A waver entered her voice. “We have considered it a last resort. We are willing to give her the best childhood we can before ... you know.” Dr Grey nodded absently, moving her head closer to the filly’s body, her eyes clacking like pins as she blinked. After a moment, she pulled back. “Yes, I do believe I have the resources to deal with this affliction. However ... are you willing to pay the price?” “Name it.” “No no, it isn’t going to be monetary. First of all, you must understand, my associates are-” she twirled a hoof, “-not on the best of terms with the ruler of the land.” “Wait, you mean the Princess?” “She doesn’t approve of our ‘methods’. We understand, we can’t keep everyone happy. We do our best to stay out of her business. You three, however, should be fine.” The puppet steepled its hooves. “However, we would rather prefer not pinging Celestia’s senses. Since whatever we do to save her is a risk on my organization’s part, in return I wish to use your daughter as a testbed for a modified virus I’ve created. Its a more ... controlled variant of my condition.” Hondo squinted at the doctor. “What ... exactly is your condition?” Grey grinned. “I’m glad you asked. If you want a preview of what may happen if everything goes wrong, follow me.” Her body settled into a comfortable sitting position, then went slack, her eye-sockets dark and empty. With a clunk, a light and door activated, showing the way to a flight of stairs down. The couple looked at each other. “Well, we’ve come this far...” A moment later, they were treated to a dimly lit basement, that was only a few seconds trot wide. In the middle of the basement, there was a circular pit filled with a green, hissing fluid, with a hundreds of metal wires leading out of it and into the walls and ceiling. The fluid started vibrating, bubbles splashing. A corroded metal hoof grasped the edge of the pit and hauled itself out. A pair of dully glowing pits came up with them, surrounded by skull of acid-bitten metal plates and grinding gears. Below it was a long, corded torso, sinking into the depths of the sizzling pit. She leaned on the edge and smiled casually, or as best her oxidized frame could, as red started to drip out from between her joints. “Welcome to my private room, where I rest. Glad we can finally meet face to face.” The parents stared, horrified. “W-w-what?” “Yeah, I know. Long story short, bad encounter while tomb raiding, not an occupation I recommend without heavy backup. This pool is industrial acid by the way, try not to touch it. It keeps me sane.” She pointed at her chest. “I’ve been assigned to create a more stable version of this, see whether its possible or not, and how well it compares with ... well, you two don’t have the clearance for it, and you’ll be safer not knowing.” A claw came down the ceiling, bearing a tiny square of metal and plastic. “This thing,” Grey said, pointing at the chip, “is what I’ll implant, if you two will let me.” “And then Sweetie will look like .... that?” Cookie asked, pointing at Grey’s ...everything. Grey shook her head. “If all goes right, no. I was consumed entirely. This little piece of magic should only replace what is needed. Currently, its her circulatory system.” She shrugged. “In the future, if she gets hurt, like say, scraped her leg, this will speed up the healing, and maybe reinforce part of the skin.” She neglected to mention how dying cells will eventually catch the chip’s attention. “Then, how likely is this procedure going to work?” Cookie asked. “Well,” Grey chuckled. “She is the first. However,” Grey’s face hardened. “I will do everything in my power to restrain its growth.” “Then ... alright. Do it.” A table was cobbled together by an arch of metal coils. It still flexed a bit under weight, so it wasn’t as uncomfortable as it looked. Sweetie Belle sagged into the wires, her pink and lavender mane tangled and matted with sweat. Her breathing was ragged and her eyelids fluttered weakly. “...?” Grey brushed a tangle of regrown mane out of her face, and angled her hoof so only the reconstituted fur brushed some of the filly’s sweat off. “Shh, don’t worry. There will be only a tiny prick.” “Oh? Oh! .... ah.” her eyes closed, and her breathing calmed, if only slightly. “Is that it?” Cookie asked, fretting after nothing happened for several minutes, her hooves starting to fidget in place. Grey dropped a syringe, shaking her head. “That was an anesthetic, because if she were awake, this will likely-” a short blade clattered out of her hoof with a clatter of grinding gears, “-hurt quite a bit.” She promptly slid the steel below her patient’s jaw. “AHHH!” both parents screamed, jaws gaping. “It’ is fine, I didn’t nick anything important,” Grey said, waving them off. I just need to reach her spine.” She gently widened the wound, and with her other hoof slipped in the little chunk of silver and gold between a nicked vertebrae. She quickly pulled her blade out, but kept close, watching the chip intensely. The moment blood began soaking the chip, it was sucked in with ferocity. Hair-thin wires snapped out and crawled along the edges of the wound and began delicately stitching it shut. To her relief, it didn’t begin crawling out of her skin. However, it did begin spreading tendrils over and around her nervous system, which will hopefully allow the filly to gain some measure of control over her parasite. So far, so good. Soon after, the spindles reached her laboring heart, and began its work. Damaged cells were identified and repaired. Decaying valves and cell walls were outright replaced. Wires curled around an axle, a screw growing out of it, then began spinning. Electrically reactive wires pumped to the beat of the filly’s pacemaker, still organic... for now. Discovering nothing else to be of note, besides a slight iron deficiency only partially caused by itself, the chip powered down after a full fifteen minutes of quiet buzzing. Grey let out a breath, more electronic than biological. “The chip appears stable. For now, I recommend plenty of bed rest and a diet heavy in protein. It ate through some of her blood supply to enact the necessary repairs, and will suffer symptoms synonymous with low blood pressure. She should recover within a few days.” Grey carefully picked up the dozing filly and brought her back into the anxious hooves of her parents. “If anything, and I do mean anything abnormal in diet or stamina occurs, contact me by the same address, I can send someone to check in shortly.” “Oh thank you, so much!” Cookie exclaimed, cradling her daughter. “Is there anything-” Grey cut her off with a raise of her hoof. “Live. That’s the most we can ask for. Don’t burden her with our issues.” She retreated, her coil-table unraveling as she sank back to the edge of her acid-pool. “There are enemies and shadows you three should never have to worry about. Please, try to forget me. Its harder to get around the more ponies know who we are.” There was a slight boom from above. “There should be enough bits for three tickets back to your home. May the winds be fair and ever homeward. Good luck, and good night.” The last pleasantries shared, Grey was left alone once more. She waited for the distant call of the train’s whistle to recede, sinking a little in her vat of acid, and paying little attention to the sizzling of flesh. A pair of glowing blue eyes opened behind her. “Connect to number ‘533122’,” Grey stated. The eyes walked forward until it stood besides the mare under the light. It was a small-ish changeling, with glowing blue spots along its hooves and a pair of blue stripes going over its back. Its jaw hung limply for a moment, before suddenly turning into an eager grin. Its eyes flickered for a bit before turning into a gentle shade of violet. “Was the implantation successful?” a mare’s voice asked. Grey sighed. “The operation, Seer, went without incident, besides a higher than expected blood consumption, and a delay before shutdown. If our sources are correct-” “Which they are.” “...then they should reach home within the day, and make contact with the family’s other daughter.” “Any idea of when we will have visual and audio?” “In a few years. A foal’s rambunctiousness will be hard to deny, and she get a few nicks soon enough.” Grey slowly began sinking back into the vat, her flesh boiling away. “The Mechano-Virus will seek to protect her from her adventures, including her eyes and ears, and no, it is one way only, if I have my way.” “Good, good.” Its teeth glowed in the dark. “Element secured.”