//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 - Grayling // Story: Defect // by CroakyEngine //------------------------------// Ponyville Proper, Everfree Region, Year???? After Nightmare Moon It was almost dark when ManeFrame stumbled upon a rickety, old apple barn in apparent disuse. A cluster of houses reminiscent of pre-war architecture lay beside it, though their crumbling foundations looked far too unstable for them to be viable residences. Twisted lamp posts and signs dotted the streets, some accompanied by the odd carriages of old, some still showing the intricate designs carved onto their sides. The air had also grown increasingly cold and ManeFrame feared that the pony draped across her back would freeze if they forwent shelter that night. During the journey, ManeFrame almost stumbled upon two Imperial patrols scouring the Neicolt region, each armed to the teeth in weaponry and armour. Along with each of the patrols, there was an accompanying Imperial fighter, the sort that she couldn’t outfly with a passenger. There was no doubt that they were either looking for any surviving rebels or trying to find her. More than likely, they were doing both. After the close encounters, ManeFrame had learned to be much more cautious, especially with her precious cargo in tow. The open fields proved to be especially risky, and more than once she had found herself trotting among the fields of thick, knee high frostgrass that miraculously persevered in the cold. When she could fly, ManeFrame stopped periodically in between long stretches of flight, saving her strength. If they were spotted, she wanted to be confident that she could outfly anything less than an Imperial Glider. As she flew closer to the barn, the faint, cracked surface indicated that at one point in its lifetime, its outside was coated in a magnificent red paint. Weather and time had not been kind to the building. Despite that, the framework of the barn was decidedly made to last. The edges of metal frames stuck out through exposed spaces, and the building itself had somehow retained its original structure. A sign hang limply on the front wall, though only a single word – Acres – was readable. ManeFrame flew in and landed roughly, leaving a trail of indented snow in her wake. The unconscious pony on her back gently bumped against the back of her neck, but ManeFrame herself barely felt it. Righting herself, she tucked her wings in and approached the barn quietly. Every crunch from her hoof on the snow covered ground left her wincing. Indeed, there was a cold, unnatural feel to the streets. Rubble and ravines covered the road leading up to the barn, visible even though it was covered by a thick layer of snow. She couldn’t help but feel there were eyes following her. What frightened her more was the fact that she couldn’t rule out the possibility. Many of her more sophisticated sensors were also damaged or otherwise disabled during her fall, and it made her much more cautious of her surroundings with the lack of additional information. Most important of which was her infrared scanners, so she was unable to tell if there were one hundred ponies hiding around her or none at all. However, the neglect around the ruins seemed to indicate that nopony had been in here for a long, long time. For ManeFrame, her luck was tinged with melancholy. It seemed that a great number of ponies used to live here, but all that was left of it now were skeletal walls and cockroaches. She shook her head to clear the thought and stiffly walked over to the front of the barn. A grimace quickly crossed face when she opened it, the squealing sound of metal on metal echoed beyond the entrance to the building. The stallion on her back squirmed uncomfortably and tried to instinctively cover his ears. ManeFrame stepped through into the dank and musty space beyond, where old frameworks were still attached in places, yet devoid of any machinery or valuable equipment. The only things left were scattered on the ground, rust and moss clinging to shells of their former selves. The interior itself was huge. A great space dominated the main foyer. Metal frames with rotted wood held up the space, the ceiling at least several pony-lengths high. Along its lengths were rows of stalls, though most seemed to have completely collapsed. Off to the right side was a flight of stairs that extended upwards and into the upper level. Aside from those, the huge cavern of a building was completely barren. ManeFrame trotted over to one of the intact stalls and slowly lowered the unconscious pony from her back. The body fell with a quiet thump onto the ground. She quickly turned the pony over and winced when she saw blood blossoming outwards through the makeshift bandage on his left side. She cut a piece of cloth from his barding and replaced the bandage. Even with the swift analysis she had made, it was obvious that the wound was quite severe. An object – likely shrapnel from the explosion – was embedded deep under his coat. The flesh around it had already started to develop a sickly greenish tinge. He’s going to die if this doesn’t get treated soon, thought ManeFrame with a bitter frown. She gently pressed her hoof against the bandaged wound, cringing when she came away with a little sliver of red at the bottom of her hoof. She checked the marker on her navigation system. The Everfree Ruins were a little more than half a dozen kilometres away, almost within reach from where they were now. Her database, incomplete as it is, told her that the area surrounding the ruins was a forest as well as an old city called Ponyville. Strangely enough, there was no coordinates of any sort nor were there more information on the subject. A small twitch from the stallion next to her reminded her that she had more pressing issues than an incomplete database. An idea suddenly struck her. If there was a city nearby, or at the very least a town from what she had seen, then there was bound to be hospital somewhere. And a hospital meant medical supplies! ManeFrame was overjoyed at the solution. She stood up immediately to go to the door, before remembering that it was impossibly dark outside. With a disappointed sigh, she sat back down and, for the first time, removed the helmet from the pony’s head. Her breath almost caught in her throat as she gazed upon the sleeping pony. The stallion had a wild, almost untamed mane, with brilliant swirls of light grey contrasting against a deep, rich goldenrod colour. Strands of his mane hang limply down the side of his head, matted by sweat that had since dried from the cold. His face was rather striking, with a chiselled jaw and distinct cheeks. His coat was a bright shade of ivory, though it was somewhat blemished by dirt and oil stains. To ManeFrame, however, she thought it gave him a sort of… rugged handsomeness. ManeFrame suddenly looked away, and despite lacking blood or a coat, felt her whole being ablaze with embarrassment. Where had that come from? ManeFrame scolded herself, before starting to wonder what his eyes would look like. Would it be an intense shade of lavender, her favourite colour? No, stop it ManeFrame. ManeFrame couldn’t help but giggle as the internal two voices argued onwards in her mind. However, she stopped when she realized what one of the voices had mentioned. Lavender was her favourite colour? Since when did she have a favourite colour? ManeFrame stowed away this new piece of information and placed the helmet back on the sleeping pony. She was about to lie down when a shuffling noise was caught on the edge of her auditory sensors, prompting her to straighten. The first time, she wrote it off as nothing and began to stoop again when the noise repeated itself, this time louder. Or perhaps it was closer? She looked around in the dark interior, and despite her penetrating optical sensors, she still felt a small chill ran down her back. A great debate was raging within her, and she couldn’t help but wish that she had only imagined the sound. A few silent moments passed, and ManeFrame questioned if her enhanced audio sensors had, in fact, malfunctioned. “Keep it together, ManeFrame. It’s probably nothing,” she muttered to herself, her ears flicked anxiously as it tried to pick up any unexpected sounds. A barely audible scraping sound from above caused her to flinch. “It’s just some rodents.” She went back to tying the knots around the unconscious pony. Then she heard it. It was a clop, the sound of hooves on wooden floor boards. That was definitely not a rodent, she thought to herself with wide eyes. Hesitantly standing up, ManeFrame stepped outside the stall, and crept towards the flight of stairs. She wished that she would just let the noise be, but the more rational part of her mind told her that it would be a decision she would regret. Her pair of hoof blades quietly extended from the end of each of her forehooves. Secretly, she hoped that if there were indeed ponies here, they were friendly. Despite being one herself, she could destroy constructs with ease. Ponies, however… ManeFrame shuddered when she remembered her brief lapse into bloodlust, and vowed to herself that she would never let that happen again. When she crept up the stairs, she could definitely hear the sound of loud shuffling. It sounded like only one pony was upstairs, but she couldn’t be sure with her sensors down. Something was also seriously messing with whatever detectors she did have working. She entered an empty hallway, walls decorated with once-beautiful carved wooden boards that had long since rotted. A single shattered photo frame was lying desolately on the ground, the image it held showed six ponies but the details and colours were too faded to make out anymore. ManeFrame crouched low, minimizing her profile and muffling her sounds. She stopped just outside of a room with a door that was slightly ajar. The sounds weren’t subtle at all, and ManeFrame could almost hear somepony speaking inside. She readied herself as she slowly approached the door. Once she was directly outside, the voices paused for a second, and ManeFrame struck. She leapt into the room, and almost stumbled across an ancient, barely standing dresser with a missing leg. She could almost hear a phantom heart pumping in her ears as she slowly surveyed the room. There was nopony here, nothing. Instead, the only thing in the room beside the broken piece of furniture was a small, metal locker stuffed into the corner of the room, its metal covering rusted and worn. “What?” she whispered to herself, brows furrowing as she surveyed the room for any signs of recent activity, but couldn’t find anything. A thick layer of dust covered everything she could see; the only set of hoofprints she could see belonged to her. ManeFrame curiously stepped closer to the locker, and when nothing lunged out to destroy her, she gently prodded it. With a small click, it slid open, revealing a small but extremely valuable- looking necklace. Confused, she picked up the piece of golden jewellery and inspected it. The centrepiece was a bright orange gem etched in the shape of an apple, with two leaf-like pieces shyly peeking over the top. Strangely enough, there wasn't a single scratch nor tarnish to be found on its surface. In fact, it seemed to shine in the dimness. With nowhere else to put it, ManeFrame carefully slid the necklace around her neck. In a bizarre turn of events, the noises had stopped as well. ManeFrame checked the rest of the rooms, and they were all completely bare except for a small storage room. Her luck led her to find another small locker there, though this one yielded something she would’ve wished dearly to avoid using. The shotgun she had found was now slung across her back in a harness that she had found lying beside the weapon, a single, bright red apple etched across it. By the time ManeFrame had finished ‘exploring’ the rooms of the huge building, her internal clock told her that almost an hour had passed. Her power reserves, to her dismay, were also hindering her functionality, causing her eyelids to lower when it was utterly unnecessary. She traced her way back to the stall she had chosen before. Still wary of the sounds she had heard before, she quietly moved a few boards around them. ManeFrame looked towards the stallion, and after a thought, picked up an ancient, rusted cow bell. Handling it carefully to ensure it didn't make any noise, she attached it to the bound pony. It was cold, and ManeFrame hoped that the thick barding would help a little in keeping the stallion warm. Looking around, she found a small pile of decaying fibres on the ground and placed the stallion on top of them. It wasn’t pretty, nor was it incredibly sanitary, but it was better than just sleeping on the cold, dank ground. Finally satisfied, ManeFrame settled down next to the sleeping stallion, being careful to not be within a hoof’s reach of him. ManeFrame closed her eyes and switched to standby mode. Then, she began the long process of rejuvenating her spent power cells and shuffling her new, bizarre memories into long term storage. Morning came quicker than ManeFrame would’ve liked, and she reluctantly reverted back to her active status. She stood up and stretched her metal limbs, blinking in the still gloomy darkness of the abandoned barn. Fleeting flashes of phantom images swam past her eyes, and she tried to catch onto them, but to her disappointment they departed like the breeze. Her database was eerily silent ever since her escape from the Empire, and for some reason it unnerved her to no end. Was she… lonely? No, that didn’t feel like the right word to use. ManeFrame huffed internally. If database didn’t like her, than she didn’t need it anyways. She turned away from the slightly bitter thought, and focused on something else instead. Her internal clock told her that it was still in the early hours of morning, but she decided that there was enough light to do what she wanted to accomplish. After checking over her bound ‘prisoner’, who looked significantly weaker and paler than before, she carefully removed the improvised barrier of rotten wood she had erected. She peeked outside the stall, and once she determined that it was all clear, slowly stalked outside. The mysterious sounds from last night didn’t make a reappearance as she reached the main entrance to the barn. She pulled the door open much more carefully this time, remembering the squeal it had made before. When she stepped through, she felt the cool breeze sweeping across her body. Her hooves pressed into the soft snow, as she simply enjoyed the sensation. Before long, she mustered her determination and set off on the road running adjacent to the barn house. Everything looked much the same as last night, except that the state of despair was much more illustrated in the light. Cracked and varnished walls stood parallel to the road, some being the only remnants of the houses they were once a part of. Her journey, however, was preemptively cut short when she rounded a street corner and squinted. Her arcane detectors were crackling as she approached, indicating a huge enchantment that was still somehow active. “Wait… this can’t be right,” ManeFrame muttered to herself in disbelief. In front of her, the buildings and streets ended abruptly, as if it had been severed with an enormous blade. Beside the occasional rubble or two, there was an uninterrupted field of frost grass, the same sort she had trotted over during her journey. Some distance away, she could even see the treeline to what could only be the edge of the Everfree Forest. Stepping cautiously past the distinct edge of the ‘town’, ManeFrame trotted into the open fields. Her hooves carefully poked at the edge, and aside from the occasional crumbling stonework, everything was miraculously intact, with no signs of significant trauma through force. The only explanation was magic, but… “This doesn’t look like any magic I’ve seen before,” muttered ManeFrame. She stepped outside of the town and walked alongside it. Her goal remained the same – to find a hospital or clinic of some sort. As she walked further and further, the lack of her objective started to worry her. Could it perhaps have been within the missing part of the town? An unfounded fear, she found, when her receivers picked up a faint beacon. She quickly locked onto the signal and was overjoyed when it was broadcasting that of a medical institute. In her state, she didn’t give any thought as to why the beacon was still broadcasting after at least decades of abandonment. She reached further into the new, foreign part of the small city. Old, unreadable posters started to decorate the ruined walls of buildings, and cans and garbage were steadily increasing their presence on the street. She didn’t give any thought to them. The marker indicated she wasn’t far now. ManeFrame’s trot came to a stop when she rounded a corner, her eyes widened as she saw a small, metal fortress looming a few blocks away. What caught her attention more was the fact that there were two extremely guarded ponies standing in front of her, already in the process of bearing their thick barrelled firearms towards her. As fast as she could, she galloped away, extending her wings. A salvo of bullets whizzed past behind her, peppering the way adjacent to where she stood. Several twists and turns, and she saw another pair of similarly armed ponies running on her left. Shouts were echoed through the air, quickly followed by a sharp whistle. Before she could respond in any sort of way, a barrage of missiles was launched somewhere behind a protruding pile of rubble. ManeFrame’s eyes widened and she quickly leapt off the ground, manoeuvring her wings to dodge the rockets. Unfortunately for her, she was too focused on the missiles to notice an electro-arcane grid coming up in front of her. She painfully slammed into it, her internal wards barely shielding her from the huge current coursing through her body. Spasming, she fell to the ground, wisps of smoke coming from her body. She tried to rise, but the only thing she could utter was a low groan. Warnings and buzzers flared throughout her body along with an indescribable dizziness that consumed her mind. The last thing she could remember was a pair of quartet of hooves landing in front of her. When ManeFrame became aware of her surroundings again, a shocked gasp left her. All around her were ponies, some dressed in ragged clothing while others bore steel plates of armour of various kinds. However, all shared a mark, the symbol of a blood red tree. Even in her state, she counted no less than two dozen ponies all about the courtyard they were in, some residing on improvised metal walls while others loitered on ground level. And all of them were cheering for her destruction. An EMP dagger sank into her shoulder and the limb spasmed violently as she let out a blood curling scream of agony. The ponies laughed and jeered at her torture, and ManeFrame could feel something impacting against her side plates. “Let’s see how many parts we can strip off while it’s still active!” shouted one of the ponies, to the wild approval of the on watching crowd. ManeFrame shuddered violently as one of the ponies proceeded to do just that. She screamed again when she felt a laser cutter being applied at the intersection between two plates. “N-no, please… ST-STOP!” cried ManeFrame, her hooves trying to grab something, anything to hold on to while the cutting continued. “Ahaha! She’s BEGGING. How ‘bout that folks?!” boomed the courtyard speaker. ManeFrame could now recognize the voice with the pony it belonged to, who was currently gesturing at her with a microphone held in his left hoof. It was likely that he was either these ponies’ leader or the show pony of her torment. ManeFrame shivered on the ground, the animosity almost tangible in the air. Another streak of pain rushed through her body. Her whole existence felt only pure unadulterated anguish, and her screams reflected her pain. Her cruel torturers seemed to only take more pleasure from that. She could smell the scent of something burning, most likely herself. “Well folks, she seemed to be a bit more stubborn than the others. How about we move straight onto the last event?” The crowd wildly screamed their consent along hoof stomping and wolf whistles. Finally, the torture on her construct body stopped, if only momentarily. A pair of hooves grappled onto her shoulders and pulled her along the ground. Unbeknownst to them, however, ManeFrame’s power cores were recharging at an almost alarmingly fast rate from the huge magical deposit nearby at the edge of the town. They dragged her some more before roughly depositing her on an elevated pedestal at the centre of the courtyard. The sound of metal clanging against metal echoed through the air. The pedestal itself was made out of a combination of bronze – much like her own plating – and arcanite. She raised her head and looked above, her magical veins almost freezing upon her doing so. A hoof quickly shoved her head down, but ManeFrame had enough time to see what they had planned for her. This is a guillotine…which means execution. ManeFrame shuddered as she realized the blade of the killing machine itself was made out of coldsteel with small spikes of sharpened silitan embedded within it. A pony beside her was slowly pulling down the chain with his magic, raising the blade little by little until it reached the top. ManeFrame panicked, and her mind clouded a little. Time seemed to slow down as she contemplated her options. Restraints tied down her limbs to prevent her from escaping. “Ladies and gentlecolts, my name is Cuss Show!” announced the beige stallion proudly. “And this has been Ponyville Game Shows, I hope you enjoy your day!” The small crowd roared in approval as the strong, burly unicorn beside ManeFrame let go of the chain and the blade came flying downwards. Squeezing her eyes shut, ManeFrame did the only thing she could think off. In a split moment, her thrusters turned to full flare and her body propelled like a rocket, easily breaking her measly bonds. Somewhere behind her, the blade struck the space where she had been, metal clanging against metal. She regained her bearings and shook her wings. She dove into a tent where she saw her belongings were kept at. Within, there was one single, ill-prepared pony who had his back to her, trying to strap on a set of barding. A surprised yelp met with the business end of her hoof, the pony falling unconscious before he even met the ground. She flung open a locker and recovered her items; the necklace and the shotgun. She stormed out of the tent, combat shotgun in hoof and began to spray the air with slugs, though taking care to not hit anypony. The ponies acted as she had hoped, and most dove for cover, all except for the few that were completely out of range of her attacks. “GET IT!” screamed the megaphone speakers while the crowd rushed about, some heading straight for her while others went to grab their weapons. Half a dozen of more armoured fighters exited the three storied building adjacent to the courtyard, splitting off to support other suppressed gunponies. Gunshots pierced through the air and ManeFrame felt several rounds bounce off her plating. There’s too many of them, she thought. I’d never get out of here in one piece. She dashed across the yard, incapacitating two unprepared guards in the process. She flung herself behind cover, ducking her head when a rocket shell flew past overhead. The metal and wooden barricade in front of her wasn’t going to do much against a direct hit, but for the moment it held off the lesser bullets that sprinkled her position. ManeFrame scanned the courtyard, seeing the multitude of ponies either taking cover while firing towards her or advancing steadily with melee weaponry. In a bout of brilliance, she remembered that the announcer had used speakers before. There! ManeFrame spotted the large metal case standing next to the courtyard wall, a large pole attached to it with dual speakers attached to the top of it. Her mental calculations supplied that with enough power she could overload the audio system to a high enough frequency to incapacitate the ponies. She stood up and leapt over her improvised barrier, which promptly exploded in a fiery shower of splinters and shrapnel when a missile whizzed past behind her. She charged into a trio of armoured earth ponies in the way of her path; two stallions and one mare. The first of the three charged at her with what looked like a halberd to which she parried with her hoof. She wrenched the weapon away and kicked at the stallion’s shin, causing him to cry out in pain. A hoof to the back of his head silenced him. She moved on to the remaining two, who were more cautious than the first. They stayed out range of her and opened fire, though luckily each only had a low calibre sidearm. ManeFrame didn’t give them the chance to swap to anything with a higher firepower and bucked the stallion in the chest. ManeFrame’s sensors told her that she must’ve broken at least a few ribs, causing a wince to form on her face. When the turned to the last pony, the mare was already on the move. A coldsteel sword launched towards her neck, and ManeFrame swivelled to the side just in time to dodge it. She wrapped around the mare and used her thrusters to give her an extra push to reach the armoured pony. However, said target had managed to strike against one of her thrusters, momentarily unstabilizing her motion. Her hoof slammed into the unhelmeted mare’s head, her forward momentum unintentionally giving her attack way more force than she intended to. A sickening crunch followed as the mare fell sideways, her necks bent at an unnatural angle. Her jaws were agape, and her red and violet bangs fell over her eyes which were no doubt wide open. An explosion knocked her off her hooves. Another one batted her several metres away. ManeFrame grasped a hold of herself from what she had just seen and galloped to the broadcaster. Once she reached it, a screwdriver looking device extended from the sole of her right forehoof. Without so much as looking, she plunged it into the circuitry of the broadcasting system. “Come on, come on,” she whispered behind her cover. A hoof-thrown grenade landed next to her, and she kicked it away swiftly before it detonated. A click suddenly resounded through the air and a wave of relief washed over ManeFrame. She disabled her auditory sensors just as a hellish screeching filled the air, causing all the ponies on the ground to clutch their head in pain. ManeFrame seized the opportunity and quickly went around to any ponies still conscious, knocking them out. She had done this to everypony until there was just one more left, the last pony still conscious. A tear of pure white streaked through the sky overhead, the sound of thunder echoing maliciously behind it. The face of the dead mare flashed across ManeFrame’s eyes as she strode forward heading straight for the stallion, who was kneeling on the ground in pain. She narrowed her eyes when she recognized the stallion as the announcer of her torture. The suffering she had endured came rushing back to her and she unsheathed her shotgun. It is all his fault, hissed a voice in her mind. He is the cause of all of this.. She stepped up to the stallion and pressed the shotgun into the pony’s head, causing a whimper from him. Her hoof shot out and grabbed the collar of the stallion, feeling his shivering as terrified eyes stared back into ManeFrame’s own. The shotgun shook in her grasp and a few more moments passed before it lowered. No. ManeFrame lowered her eyes and uttered a single, choked word at the crouched stallion. “Run.” Without a single pause, the pony scrambled away and leapt across the unconscious bodies of his friends. He galloped out of the courtyard without looking back. ManeFrame sat down heavily, and she wanted nothing more than to leave this place. Still, she had a mission to do. Distant thunder echoed again in the perpetually overcast sky. The sky itself began to leak, shedding the tears for ManeFrame couldn't, no matter how much she wanted to. The rain hadn’t stopped. ManeFrame sullenly walked through the empty streets, no longer enjoying the scenery or the way her hooves clopped against the ground. Rain splashed and dripped down her metal plates, cleansing her of the dirt and grime that had accumulated on her body. She was now equipped with an old saddlebag slung across her hindquarters, containing the precious medical supplies she sought for along with some cans that she hoped would contain food. Neither thought brought joy to ManeFrame, for she knew that to get them, she had to… I killed her. Why did I kill her when I knocked out all the others? How could I have been so careless?! She grounded her teeth. She wanted to complain how life was so unfair. However, she couldn’t bring herself to do so, not when it was all her fault. Instead she just focused on putting one hoof in front of another. The stallion still needed her help, if she wasn’t already too late. The thought put some motivation back into her steps, and before long her canter transformed into a full gallop. She soon found the barn, looking more sorrowful under the rain. The snow had mostly melted as well. Without a thought, she went to the front door and went inside. Immediately, the sounds of the rain storm became subdued. The dank and musty smell had grown since she was last in, though that was the last thing on her mind. She quickly rushed to the stall she had left the rebel fighter in, and almost gasped when she saw him trying to lean up against the wall, struggling with his restraints. The helmet he previously wore lay abandoned on the ground beside him. The stallion’s weakness was apparent; she could see his face flushed in red and mane flattened to his forehead by sweat. His eyes were unfocused, glancing about the stall in an uncertain and disorganized manner. She tried to back out as quickly as she could, but she was ultimately too late. His eyes brightened a notch and they locked onto the tiniest movement like a bird to prey – or in this case, her. For a split second, neither of them moved. What happened next went past in a frenzied blur for ManeFrame. Without waiting for her reaction, the stallion lowered his shoulders and charged forward, trying to knock her aside and escape outside. The cow bells that were still attached jingled loudly as he slammed into ManeFrame, but did little more than daze her momentarily, if only due to shock. The stallion, still halfway restrained, was caught off-balance. Once he stopped and steadied himself, a vague, green tinge wrapped around his horn but didn’t last when the stallion almost collapsed. His breath became unsteady and it took him several seconds more to recover. Meanwhile, ManeFrame herself was trying to catch her breath and figure out what she was going to do. She didn’t get the chance when the stallion charged at her again with a bestial roar. “Wait, stop!” cried ManeFrame as she jumped away from the lunging pony. She didn’t trust herself to knock him unconscious, not after what happened earlier. She stayed out of the range of the attacks, if more to protect the injured pony than herself. She fished a hoof through her saddlebags and quickly pulled out a liquid-filled syringe. She looked back at the resistance fighter in time to see something that sent a shiver down her spine – an EMP dagger, the blade humming softly as it activated. Her legs went weak at the sight of it, nearly causing her to be impaled when she was charged again. In her panic, she switched to combat mode, the only thing in her mind to avoid the infernal weapon. The system accepted her command without delay and ManeFrame found herself no longer in control of her movements. She swivelled around rapidly, and hooked a strong grip into the stallion’s neck, causing him to grunt painfully. The stallion kicked against her shin, but she held steady. When she moved again, she flipped over the stallion with ease, her free hoof preparing to slam against the pony’s exposed windpipe. ManeFrame’s eyes widened as she realized what she was about to do, and quickly stopped herself. Panting heavily – though she didn’t need the oxygen, it certainly helped – she lowered her hoof and picked up the syringe she had dropped. The pony underneath her struggled futilely against his pinned position as the needle of the syringe stuck into his foreleg. His struggles soon began to subside until his limbs had gone completely limp. ManeFrame breathed a sigh of relief, but a shudder still persisted in her. She shakily let go of the unconscious pony and took the EMP dagger in her hooves. With nary a glance, she crushed the weapon underneath her hoof. A sharp crunch from beneath her informed her of its destruction. She straightened the stallion after making sure he wasn’t going to suddenly thrash out and reapplied his bonds. Next came the hard part. First, she unwound the bandage on the stallion’s side. She didn’t bother to hide the grimace when she saw the wound – worse than she had ever seen before – and quickly used some antiseptic to clear the dirt and grime. Then, she picked up a scalpel and steel tweezers. Her optical sensors switched to X-Ray mode, causing a dim blue circle to appear in her iris. “Right, I can do this,” ManeFrame whispered to herself as she started to cut into the wound. Multiple times she stilled herself as one errant twitch could easily burst an artery. For once, she was really, truly glad for her exact and perfectionist calculations made by her computers. Without them, it would have been near impossible for her to do this. After several tense moments, she felt something, and her pair of tweezers tightened. Slowly raising it out of the wound, she saw what she was looking for; a small, jagged piece of shrapnel with streaks of blood across it. With her enhanced vision, she quickly picked out all of the remaining pieces of metal, and deposited it onto the ground next to her. Not wasting a single moment, she applied a thick layer of antibiotic gel onto the wound. She wrapped a fresh, sterilized bandage around the wound and took out another syringe, filled with a viscous yellow fluid. She gently stuck it into his side and released the medication into this body. She checked the temperature of the stallion, making sure that the medicine was working. After that, she strengthened his restraints from improvised materials. When she was done, she sat back with heavy thud, leaning against the stall wall. She desperately just wanted to rest, and perhaps close her optics for a second or two. She lowered her head, eyes slowly lowering until all she could see was darkness. When she opened her eyes again, it was to a soft tingling sound, not unlike that of small bells. She looked to the stallion, who had somehow wrangled himself into a sitting position despite his bonds. He was looking at his side, where the makeshift bandage was applied. A green tinge around his horn appeared for a split second before shattering like it had during the fight. “You’re awake,” said ManeFrame awkwardly. The stallion flinched and turned his steely gaze towards her. She winced when she saw quite a few new bruises on the pony’s body, no doubt due to her handiwork. “Sorry about before, but I had to–” “You saved me,” he interrupted. It wasn’t a question, more like a confused comment on a predetermined fact. What came next, though, was a question. “Why?” “It was the right thing to do,” replied ManeFrame lamely, her shoulders slumped. It sounded weak and pathetic to even herself, never mind the critical rebel fighter. “The right thing to do? To save the life of your enemy?” asked the stallion incredulously, his voice rising. “I may not be spymaster, but I don’t buy that for one bloody second! Nopony with half a wit will. What is your real aim? Is it to befriend me in an attempt to retrieve information?” ManeFrame didn’t answer, though she lowered her head and looked at the ground. The stallion took her action with even more suspicion. “What are we doing here in this rundown building and not in a high containment torture room? Why are you doing this?!” shouted the stallion, his chest heaving. “I don’t know! Okay?! Is that what you wanted to hear? I don’t know why I did it. I woke up a few days ago as an empty slate! Have you ever FELT LIKE THAT BEFORE?!” ManeFrame shouted back, tearing up as the events of the past two days started to catch up to her. Despite her sophisticated emotion processors, without the help of the inhibitor, they were overworking with the foreign feeling rushing through her processors. At ManeFrame’s weakest, the processors just suddenly stopped reducing the flow of emotions, and they all rushed to her at once. The stallion jumped a little at her outburst, his agitation and anger waning as ManeFrame curled up into herself and sobbed. The silence that permitted was only broken by ManeFrame’s sobbing. The sound of rain against the metal roof far above beating in a steady tempo punctuated by the occasional sound of muffled thunder. “I-I just wanted the killing to stop. I h-had to do something, and the constructs wouldn’t abide to my commands,” whispered ManeFrame as her sobs began to subside. The stallion, meanwhile, looked conflicted as he watched the metallic mare, his face half contorted by guilt and half by shock. “Wait… it was you! It was you who blew up the Behemoths!” he said with wide eyes. “You destroyed them?” The only answer he received was a timid nod from ManeFrame, still sniffling a little. “Are you saying,” he started, but had to pause to regain his thoughts. “Are you saying you… defected?” ManeFrame opened her mouth to speak, but closed it when she thought about the word he used. He said defected, not defective like one would describe a machine. The subtle difference was enough to bring a small piece of hope to ManeFrame. “I… yes. I defected from the Empire,” said ManeFrame, her wavering voice slowly becoming resolute. The stallion nodded and slumped backwards, blowing a breath through his lips. He closed his eyes and muttered something under his breaths before he opened them again. “That… was emotion,” he whispered to himself quietly and turned to her. “How did you do that?” “I don’t know,” answered ManeFrame honestly. “It was always there with me, since the beginning.” ManeFrame admitted to herself that it didn’t really mean much, since her memories only started forty-eight hours ago. “Very well. Say I’ll believe you, that you really defected from the Empire. What next?” “I guess... I’ll go to your resistance. Perhaps they can use my information to help them…” said ManeFrame quietly. “I haven’t really given any thought to it.” Another silence followed her reply. It took ManeFrame several minutes to work up the courage to ask another question. “What’s your name? I know ponies have them.” asked ManeFrame nervously as she looked at the tired and worn stallion. Her demeanour and actions seemed to snuff the fight out of him. With a weary sigh he wetted his lips and replied. “My name is Jade. Jade Grayling.” He glanced cautiously at ManeFrame. “What about you? Do you have a name?” For the first time that day, ManeFrame smiled. “My name is ManeFrame.” The pair trotted towards the edge of the town, towards the Everfree Forest. The storm from earlier had halted completely, and only the puddles of water and half- melted icy sludge showed evidence of the rain. The scent of dampness filled ManeFrame’s sensors, and she found herself enjoying it. A pair of bluejays flitted past her, chirping happily as they flew onwards, starkly contrasting against the dour and depressing ruins with their colourful bodies. ManeFrame glanced at them in surprise, the first time she had seen anything other than death and misery. She looked after them long after they disappeared, a twinge of emotion fluttering in her heart. She swivelled her head to see Jade Grayling trotting away and increased her own pace to catch up to him. The stallion had decided to forgo his helmet, noting that it would make him stand out too much as a resistance officer. The hasty restraints that ManeFrame had placed on him were also removed, to his initial astonishment. ManeFrame hoped that it would show she was genuine with her intentions and wouldn’t result in an EMP dagger in her back. After they had both calmed down, Jade Grayling, or just Jade as he preferred to be called, had agreed to give her the benefit of the doubt – all within reason, of course. Despite this, she could still see him throwing glances at her whenever he thought she wasn’t looking. The crowded street started to become wider, until it abruptly stopped. However, ManeFrame had almost forgotten about the mysterious ‘edge’ of the town, and was thoroughly confused when she saw Jade galloping away. For a brief moment, she thought he was attempting to run away, but the panic quelled when she saw him slowing down to a stop at the clean cut end to the suburban area, almost exactly where she was when she first saw it. Jade looked up at ManeFrame, bewildered, before lowering his head and trotting along the edges, occasionally skipping from one side to the other. Finally, he stopped and sat down heavily. “That… Magic doesn’t exist like that anymore,” said Jade in a low voice, wide eyed and slack jawed. He, much like ManeFrame had done before, gingerly touched the edge of the ‘severed’ town, and then repeated the process with more force when it didn’t disappear in a puff of magic. Meanwhile, ManeFrame mulled over his words. “Anymore?” Jade Grayling raised his head to look at the metallic mare. “You know, for an Imperial buff, you’re pretty clueless,” said Jade as he stood up and started walking again. He chuckled slightly when he saw ManeFrame give a huff of annoyance. “When the Sun, the Moon and the ley lines were still around, magic used to be stronger, more powerful. Unicorns could teleport, perform enormous spells and lift objects larger than the size of a Glider, all without the help of harvesters.” “What happened then?” asked ManeFrame, trailing behind Jade. “The Schism happened.” He saw the unsatisfied expression on ManeFrame and sighed, but relented more information. “The Schism is the term we use for the time when Princess Celesti and Lunae disappeared. Within the space of a decade after their mysterious disappearance, Equestria and its neighbours were nearly plunged into complete anarchy. “Sometime after that, it was said that the clouds closed up one day, and no matter what the pegasi did, it refused to open up again. It seemed that when the Princesses disappeared, they took a good chunk of the world’s innate magic with them. Most unicorns today can’t even do magic, not that your Empire hasn’t been trying to replicate it.” “Oh,” said ManeFrame, lagging behind Jade Grayling as he trotted further past her. She looked up at herself, and saw her own ‘horn’ protruding from her forehead. Her databases had also confirmed what the stallion had said about the Empire. Don’t think about it, ManeFrame. “I don’t suppose you can perform any spells?” asked Jade, glancing cautiously at ManeFrame’s horn. The bronze material seemed to be inlaid with strips of purplish metal. ManeFrame slowly shook her head, but as she did so her visual processors focused on Jade’s own horn. A spark of wonder filled her, and try as she might she couldn’t help but ask. “What about you? Can you do any magic?” asked ManeFrame. Grayling glanced at her, and couldn’t help but smile at the innocent, childlike curiosity in her eyes. His sternness from before gone, and almost feeling relaxed, he put on a smile and pointed to his own horn. “Li’l old me? With my magic, all I can do is levitation. Well, that and my specialty.” As he predicted, ManeFrame took his bait without hesitation. “Specialty?” “Talent mark, the symbol on your hindquarters,” said Jade casually, gesturing in the general direction of his backside. He saw ManeFrame opening her mouth to ask another question, but held up a hoof before she could utter a single word. “Uh uh, no more about that for you. That would be rather telling, wouldn’t it?” ManeFrame clamped shut her mouth with an audible click. He’s right, thought ManeFrame. He’s still too suspicious of me to believe that I won’t tell the Empire everything I learn about him. She kicked at a loose cobblestone on the ground, seeing it fly off from the force she put behind her hoof. Her cheerful expression fell, but with some effort she mustered it up again, though nowhere as genuine as before. “So, let’s talk about something else then,” started ManeFrame. Jade made no reaction, but neither did he stop her. She fidgeted anxiously on her hooves, torn between nervousness and curiosity. Finally, she made up her mind, and spoke again. “Tell me more about old magic.”