Ponyville, Equestria. 4:48am 01/07/1000 AN
*BANG*
The calm morning air surrounding the golden oak library was oscillated violently by the sound of several book shelves crashing down apon themselves. Inside, a certain someone's number one assistant rolled over in his basket, pulling a soft but ultimately not soundproof pillow over his head. Spike considered himself many things; daring, heroic, attractive. Yet what he prided himself most on was the seemingly endless amount of tolerance he always seemed to possess. Be it rain or shine, Spike the dragon was never absent to help clean up fallen books or scrub hydrochloric acid out of the carpet.
However, despite having the patience of a saint, he could only be woken up at 4 AM so many times before things started to get old. And oh boy had things gotten old.
"Come on Twi, just give it a rest would you." Shouted the young drake, hoping against hope that his voice would make it down the stairs before something else fell victim to Sparkle intuition. "What would Princess Celestia say if she found out you were up at this time?"
There was a shuffle from below, coupled with a tired and frustrated moan. What sounded like several metric tonnes of paper shifted around as a set of weary hooves began to ascend the stairs. Slowly, a pair of eyes found their way round the door frame, sporting bags deeper than the gastly gorge.
"Sorry Spike, I didn't mean to wake you. Just *yawn* go back to bed..."
She turned to leave, but was interrupted as a scaled knuckle rapped the floor behind her.
"I know I'm normally pretty laid back about this kind of stuff, but look at yourself Twilight. You need to rest, you've been at this for nearly a week straight!"
"I know Spike, but I promise I'll stop after tonight."
"That's what you said yesterday, and the day before! What is it that's got you so worked up!"
Twilight sighed dejectedly, scuffing the door frame with her hoof.
"I can't say Spike, you know that. Princess Celestia made me promise to keep this a secret, at least until she can release an official statement. You'll just have to wait until then."
"But why not tell me! It has to do with that big space fish doesn't it! Everyone in town is talking about that, it's no secret."
The unicorn gave her helper a soft smile, the best she could offer in her tired and dreary mood.
"Yes it does have to do with that, but I can't tell you what just yet. I do promise though, it will be worth the wait. Now get some sleep, you can have tomorrow off as an apology."
The purple mare turned to leave once again, brushing past the varnished door. She failed to notice the piece of parchment that was trailing behind her hoof, and when her leg made contact with the wood the bindle detached, rolling across the room towards her young compatriot. He reached out with his claws and began to study the stained script, straining in the low light. There were a few crudely drawn diagrams, most of which made no sense to him, and a single paragraph of text.
Subject exhibits extremely accelerated healing, along with the exceedingly unnerving ability to self resurrect if killed. Subject displays powerful and uncontrollable wild magic that was previously thought to be impossible to wield, given his bipedal nature and lack of both surato argomagicallus and unicornius I can only assume that the subject channels his magical energy through his 'hands', which in themselves require further study.
The little dragon squinted in confusion, stroking his spines as though he was in deep thought. Who was this subject? And how did this in any way relate to the big fish in the sky. He risked a peak at the back of the page and was pleased to find that there was one last diagram and a small piece of text. The drawing was very messy, but it's shape and design sparked a sense of familiarity. A lifetimes worth of power ponies knowledge began to weave the scribbled mess into something more tangible. Spike looked down at the text, which was just as inelegant. He was pretty certain of what it said, and the small arrow pointing to the diagram only confirmed his suspicions.
Squeeze here to discharge-
Long Far Gone, Equis orbit. 5:03am 01/07/1000 AN
Where does one go when he feels the entire world is out to get him. When all the walls have eyes, and the floors ears, where can one go to escape it all. To Mathew that was the 25,000 glimmer question, a question he currently had a hard time answering. He had run from that treacherous room shortly after Exuberant finished her speech. He still had a hard time believing it was true, as can be expected. He felt small, insignificant, like he was no longer in control of his own actions. So he took himself to a place with only one entrance, fused the lock on the door with an arrow, and then sat in the corner of the small and dark storage compartment with his knees pulled up round his head.
He didn't want to do this anymore. He wanted his friends back, his real friends. Not the friends he had been conditioned by some omnipotent race to love on sight, weaving their way into his subconscious and begging for a forgiveness that he told himself wasn't there. He could hear the sound of Exuberant's drones stalking around outside his hiding spot, waiting for him to emerge so they could ruin his already futile existence with more cursed knowledge.
He was constantly on the lookout for someone to blame. His mind snapped back and forth between many equally horrific possibilities, scanning everyone he knew to try and find a contender for his 'worst being alive' top spot. Mathew had found one long ago, but again his altered and indoctrinated mind wouldn't allow him to blame her for anything. That little voice in the back of his head kept repeating the same things.
"It's not her fault, she didn't mean to destroy everything you care about over a sibling disagreement. Things just turn out the way they do."
He couldn't bring himself to be angry, not at Luna anyway-
*Tap Tap*
Mathew flinched at the sudden noise, raising his fusion rifle weakly at the point of origin. Nothing emerged.
"What is it this time?! More lies, is this just some big game to all of you!" He yelled, attempting to hold a threatening tone.
*Tap Tap Tap*
The guardian was breathing heavily, trembling with a mixture of fear and hate.
"What did I do to you to deserve this?! Eh? Do you just want to see me suffer like everyone else?!"
When he received no answer, Mathew picked up the nearest crate. Holding it aloft above his head, he gave it a mighty throw. The box made a small arc across the room, before crashing into the darkened corner with a satisfying crunch, spilling it's contents across the floor. A sea of green fuel rods illuminated the once gloomy area in a fantastical green glow, casting shadows across the wall behind. A single rod touched the smooth spherical object resting apon a stand, sparking a brilliant blue shield to life. A rush of nostalgia washed over him.
Mathew had presumed that servitor to have been destroyed, and seeing it here made him smile slightly. He approached the dark object, making sure to avoid stepping on the scattered ammunition. What need would Exuberant have of such a device, had she planned to use it as a pilot? Maybe she had stored it away and simply forgotten about it, but that seemed unlikely. He doubted the monitor ever forgot anything.
Reaching out with his hand, he brushed the air around the mobile super computer, feeling the arc shield run between his fingers. He took a peak round it's rear, noting the large amount of dust present. A set of coiled wires were connected to a panel on the base of the stand, leading to console a few steps away. Mathew touched it with the tip of his gloved hand, and a purple display sprung to life. An image filled the screen, with a prompt informing him that it was a video. Hesitantly he pressed the play button, and then sat down on his knees to watch.
"Hello reclaimer, I see you found the servitor I left aboard the ship."
Mathews hands clenched into fists as he gave everything he could to avoid smashing the screen into a thousand shards.
"If you are receiving this message, then it means we have arrived at Equis. It must also mean that you have been made aware of humanities troubled past. You must hate me. I doubt that anything on this recording will change the way you feel about how I have treated you. I have told lies, taken you places against your will, and forced you to relive a part of your history that makes even me feel sad inside. You have every right to be angry with me, and I won't stop you from feeling so.
I wish to say thank you reclaimer, no doubt you have no idea why I am thanking you, but I will thank you regardless. Maybe in time, you'll come to understand why I did what I did. Again, I'm so sorry.
The short clip ended, and Mathew continued to stare at the black screen for a long while. He trembled in rage, his armour rattling as his gauntlet raised to punch the disgusting holopanel. He was about to push his entire arm through the display when another video began. It opened with a familiar background, a simple white wall with a single shelf. Apon the shelf sat several photos, each with their own premise. He could make out the smiling faces that he had used to know. Mathew felt his face lift as Maria entered the cameras view. She looked tired and weak, like she was barely clinging to life. The recording showed it was broadcasting openly.
"Math- *cough* -Mathew. Ah don't know where ya are right now but this here situation is pretty bad. We've already dropped so many guardians I've lost count- *cough cough* -listen! If yer receiven' this then ah've not much time left. Ah need ya tah promise me somethin'."
The recording of his friend reached into a pouch at her thigh, unclipping it with shaky hands. She pulled a small and worn peice of paper from the bag, taking care not to damage the aged parchment as she unfolded it. As the paper unfurled, so did the memories held within. Tears began to well up in Mathew's dry and tired eyes. Printed on the paper was a photo. A photo that was taken a very long time ago. It was Mathew and his friends, standing proudly affront the Iron Medallion. Lockjaw-11 sat at the base of their huddled forms, his legs tucked neatly in a cross. To his left was Triss, who sat elegantly on her knees. Above her was Kalie, helmet under her arm and a big smile on her face. Sam stood at the center of the group, his face twisted into an impatient yet joyful smirk. Maria was squatted to his right, and clambering over her head was Mathew himself. They looked so happy, so free.
Recording Maria removed the photograph from the camera lens. Tears now streaming from her own eyes.
"Ya have tah promise me ya'll stay strong, please Mathew. Where ever them crazy coordinates take ya, remember that yer still a guardia- *cough cough* -damn it! Even if there's no earth tah protect, ya have to keep on fightin'. Fight for us, and fight for those who can't fight fer themselves. Promise me! Promise m-"
The message ended abruptly, leaving Mathew alone in the dark room once again. He pulled off his helmet, revealing the wet tracks that had slithered down his pale face. He leaned forward from his kneeling position and pressed his forehead against the glass, allowing his tears to form wet patches along it's smooth surface.
"So sad, to see a warrior such as yourself in tears..."
That voice...
"I honestly would have expected more."
Mathew didn't move, instead opting to turn his head slightly. He could see the patch of shadows that stood out beyond the rest, and he glared at it with every bit of malice he could muster.
"What. Do you, want?"
The darkness visibly smirked, a wide and jagged grin forming on it's surface.
"I just finished my little chat with Luna, she seemed to miss you. I beat that out of her."
Slowly and carefully, Mathew rotated to face his stalker. Nightmare Moon's grin grew.
"Oh! Let me guess. Did you finally manage to pick up on what's going on here?"
The hunter remained silent, calculating her next move.
"Ah, so it's true. You really aren't as dense as you look. Maybe in time you'll begin to think less like prey, and more like predator."
"How did you get up here?"
"It's truly amazing what a radio can do once you actually let the signals through. I like your hovercart thing by the way, the colours are a bit bright for my tastes but a least it's well armed."
So she was the one jamming their signals, typical. She must have used the spectre's comms to transmit herself up here. He mentally cursed himself for forgetting to bring it with him.
"But enough with these trivial questions. We both know the truth by this point, and it seems we have developed a common enemy. So I am here to offer you a choice Mathew Ausland."
"If you think I'll have anything to do with you after what you cost me, then you are sorely mistaken. Now leave, before I remove you myself."
He felt a shiver rise up his spine as a pair of cold hooves grasped his shoulders. He felt a slight breeze touch his ear as Moon's wraith like form curled it's way up his back.
"But just think of the advantages we could bring one another in such a state. You with your skill in combat and seemingly unlimited power, and me with my dream walking abilities. We would be unstoppable. We could have those worthless coward sisters bowing before us in no time. You could avenge those you lost by delivering justice apon those Equestrian weaklings. Just think..."
Her last line was delivered in a whisper that seemed to penetrate every corner of his mind, filling him with thoughts of hate and greed. He was familiar with that feeling. The Hive radiated it. Their weapons of sorrow radiated it.
He would not radiate it.
"No."
Nightmare looked surprised, and flinched away from him as he spoke.
"Excuse me?"
"I said no. I won't be your puppet, I won't allow you to control me. Like you controlled her."
The mare of darkness sighed, unraveling herself from Mathews frozen body. She floated around him, levelling her snake like eyes with his own brown pools.
"I see I cannot convince you. I guess in order for me to take the strings, the previous puppeteer must loose them."
As she spoke she began to fade into the shadows, disappearing before him.
"Goodbye human, enjoy what little peace you have left. I shan't wait around for my own destruction, but won't stop you. After all, it really is easy to stay up late, when you don't know what's real, and you don't know what's fake..."
And with that she vanished, and the weight of her prescence trickled away like water from a tap. The dark of the small room returned to it's natural state, but remained smothering to him. Mathew took a glance at the servitor, which remained still and dormant. He wondered if those machines could actually feel true emotion. Maybe he could confide in it, if it ever woke up that is.
He chuckled sadly, giving the worn machine a soft pat. Here he was thinking about befriending another carbon copy of the aggravating bullet sponges he had destroyed hundreds of in the past, and all it took was a thousand years and a small boat to share. He turned towards the door, picking up his helmet and sliding it over his head. A sharp kick from his boot caved the alloy surface outwards, light streaming in through the newly formed exit. Mathew gave a final sigh before ducking under the damaged doorway, leaving the servitor behind.
With the guardian out of sight, it's eye flickered to life with a dim purple glow.
'Yes... Thank you Mathew. Thank you for letting me in...'