Doa looked at the computer one more time before turning around and making her way to her bedroom. She had no desire to see exactly how many folders were on that account; the fact there was more than one had shaken her. It also explained a great deal, with her countless death dreams being subconscious callbacks to what had caused her to start new journals. She had to be somehow resurrected each time she died with whoever was keeping her cleaning the slate so she would have no idea what was going on.
Her repeated deaths and resurrections were the only explanation that made sense beyond the one that was she was completely and utterly insane but Doa was hopeful it was not the case.
Although how she was coming back to life was something she could not explain; it was almost like something ponies in the past had called necromancy but there was no such thing as actual magic. This was why she had to discover what the voice was and why it was calling her to a place to get answers for everything that was going on.
Doa frowned internally as she reexamined the possibility that whomever was doing this to her was using magic. She almost snorted to herself as she thought of how ludicrous it was that magic was an option and how primitive a possible solution it was to rely on that old term. I mean, I could use my thaumatics to bring stuff to me, cause a bit of fires and a few other stuff but it is all based in logic and scientific reason! she thought to herself, remembering the old magic vs thaumatology debates. I could focus my aura to manipulate gravity to move objects around, cause enough friction to start a fire and so on! But real magic… that’s just nonsense! Doa shook her head as she made her way to her bed, finalizing her plans.
I can’t just go straight towards the voice. Doa thought to herself as she settled down. They would know something is up and I would need to go when there is a flare, she mused inside her head, raising a wing to her face as she yawned. Which means I will have to spend more and more time outside and get stuck outside when there is a flare.
It would take time, a lot of time for her to pull this off but time was all she had.
Day Seventy Seven
I cannot believe I was stupid enough to get caught outside during a flare. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
The reflective surface of the moon made the light of the flare bite into my eyes. I need to be more careful next time I am outside.
Doa
She groaned as she saved the journal. Doa then rubbed her face, remembering how bad the flare was for her. It had also heated up her entire spacesuit, causing her to sweat profusely and she had long been out of shampoo before this incident.
But if being sticky and grimy was the price for her learning the truth of the voice, she was willing to pay it.
It was her ninetieth day when she got a massive stroke of luck for herself. She was outside the station in her backyard, close to the camera marking the furthest distance she was able to go to and still make it back to the airlock in time. It was also in the direction the voice was calling her.
She had been doing a small circuit when a small meteor fragment had knocked the pole over.
Doa froze when it happened and knew she had two choices; she could make her dash now and hope they wouldn’t kill her or…
She dashed forwards toward the pole, her ears picking up a faint buildup of electricity. Moving fast, she lifted the pole and put it back into place. She gave it a nod and smile before moving back to the station, with the electricity dying down.
She had just proved that she was coming to accept her prison and was now beginning to look after it. Nothing could be further from the truth, of course, but it would mean they would not be hostile to her being near the limits of her cage.
Just twelve more days.
Come to me Doa
Twelve more days then she would.
It was time, finally, at long last. She had put on her helmet and spacesuit with hopefully no sign of excitement or anything out of the norm. She had been missing journal entries on purpose, slipping on what one day was to the next.
She had been making perfect notes on when the flares were occurring, so she had to fight her instincts and create errors.
She had forced herself to be calm as she made her usual circuit around her station, making it wider as she got towards the place with the flare imminent.
She reached the camera when the flare struck and bolted towards where the voice was.
Come to me Doa
Come to me
I am, she thought to herself as she ran across the moon, seeing nothing at first but then a small hill. The hill then turned into a mound, the mound into a ridge, the ridge into a canyon wall riddled with holes leading deep inside.
Come to me Doa
She ran into the cave where the voice was calling to her, running down the slope of the cave when it felt like she had hit something odd, like she had hit molasses or something with her horn starting to ache. It was beyond her ability to explain properly but it felt like everything had slowed down excluding herself.
Come to me Doa.
Doa froze as she reached the bottom of the cave as what she saw did not make any sense.
Instead of being completely dark down here, there was a shaft of light just a few steps away. A shaft of light that did not emit outwards but it still was light. It made as little as sense as what was in front of her.
It was another pony, a mare who was completely translucent but it was still another pony. She was taller than Doa, with ophidian eyes and protruding fangs. Her cutie mark was that of a crescent moon. She was wearing what appeared to be antique armour, but what was really strange about the mare was that her mane looked to be ethereal in nature.
“You’ve come at long last,” the mare said to her without moving her lips, a smile forming on her face.
“Who are you,” Doa asked her, eyeing the mare and then the shaft of light. “And what is that thing?” It defied all logic, like everything in this meeting did but it was the most glaring in its logical impossibility and she had to deal with the biggest issue first.
“All in good time Doa,” she said as she suddenly appeared directly in front of Doa before dropping her head to rest against her shoulder. “Or,” she said whispering into Doa’s ear. “Should I say, Spliced Genome?”
With that, everything came back to her.
She remembered working in her lab in her house when the Thirds banged on her door for medical help. How she had serviced them as it was a better usage of her skills instead of testing what new pills would help stallions procreate more efficiently. How she had learned that there was a war going on between the Pures and the Thirds, how the Thirds were not thirds of a Pure but actual ponies with their own rights equal to that of a Pure.
She remembered how impressed they were with her abilities and offered her a chance to even the playing field with the Pures. They could pay her handsomely they said. She told them she didn’t care about money. They had begged her constantly about aiding them and she had told them repeatedly she was not interested. They then said they would at least like her to create some resistance medicine to the low grade chemical ammunition the Pures were using against them. She had agreed to join them.
She had quickly taken over that department of the rebels, creating cures for their illnesses and earning her stay with them despite being a Pure. She then was presented with the actual viruses and she felt herself invigorated like never before. She had been denied access to such things when she failed to become a full biochemist researcher due to her failing the morality test and was forced to become a consultant.
She had reworked the viruses, infectious bacteria and plagues into something better, helping them achieve their full potential. The Thirds had been happy with her at first. They became worried when she had stopped supplying them with the cures as she was more focused on perfecting her works than the war. The only time she paid the war any attention was to collect data in how effective her work was, monitoring the casualty reports carefully.
She then got her creative burst and began to make new viruses. New bacteria that overcame any barrier. New plagues that spread to the stars. She was so proud of what she had accomplished, her genius being proved every day. It did not matter that the war was over; she had no reason to stop her work just because the fighting had stopped.
She had been working on perfecting the Black Death when they broke down her door and dragged her away for trial. It was a lie, of course. They had already deemed her guilty of war crimes and they were just determining how to punish her. It was why she had been denied the right to say anything on her own behalf.
She laughed at them when they sentenced her to a thousand years of solitary confinement for her killing of twenty eight million lives directly and unaccountable billions of lives indirectly. She told them she would long be dead before she served even a tenth of that ruling.
That had been a mistake. They had gone into deliberation for a long time before coming back. They said that they were going to ensure she served all of her time.
They were going to make her immortal.
There was massive outrage at this action, many decrying the decision. She joined their voices, calling it idiotic as it would only give her time to prepare for her return.
The decision passed anyways and they had done something to her but she knew she was now incapable of staying deceased or aging anymore.
They had then taken her to the moon and the station that were to be her prison for the next millennium. She had mocked them for their short sightedness, saying she would still have her superior mind by the time she was free.
They then revealed that they had done something more to her; that whenever she died, she would lose all memory of life and they would keep killing her whenever they felt she was getting too close to remembering who she really was or when they got bored.
They then killed her in front of the station. She died for the first time and woke up in the bed for the first of many times to come.
She remembered them all now, all the deaths she had and all the times she had died. Everything was now connected and lead to this point.
Blinking, the flesh and blood mare flicked her eyes towards the translucent mare and said, “Who are you?”
“Somepony that has been waiting for you to come here so we can speak,” she said, flashing a fanged smile.
“How long-”
“Was I waiting for you?”
“Have I been here,” the mare said shortly, causing the taller one to blink rapidly before finding her composure.
“It has been one hundred twenty years, seven months, eighteen days, four hours and twelve minutes,” the mare replied, a grin on her face. “Give or take.”
The mare in the suit frowned before she repeated her question from the beginning. “Who are you,” she asked.
“I am a concept of a constant in the multiverse,” she said, tilting her head to the shaft of light. “There are many constants, big ones and small ones. What I am, what we are,” she tilted her head back to the other mare. “Are the concept of the banished pony. In the multiverse, they are usually sent to the moon, normally in this form,” she gestured to herself, pride emanating from the gesture. “For a thousand years before the stars aid our escape and return us to those who have cast us away.” She then poked the other mare in the chest with a hoof, her lips still unmoving. “Then there are the rare universes where the norm is ignored and others rise to the occasion, such as yourself.”
The mare took all this in and flicked her eyes to shaft of light. “And that?”
“An improper and broken gateway to the multiverse, only connected to one another universe at the moment,” she then walked towards the smaller mare. “Go through that and you will have made your escape from your captors. And if we work together, with you and I making a pact to help each other, we can gain our vengeance on both of our captors and punish them for daring to lock us away. What do you say?”
“No.”
That was clearly not the response the fanged mare was expecting, shock clear on her face. “What do you mean no?”
“First off, there are two options. One I have gone completely insane and thus all of this is completely pointless. Two, I have not and all of this is true. If that is the case, then I would be placing myself in your debt for unspecific gains in return. You are clearly more powerful than me on levels I cannot comprehend, thus it must be something I have that you do not have. I would be placing myself at risk you would take what you do not have from me.” The mare grinned upwards at the other mare. “No thank you. To continue with what was said before, if everything here is actual and not a fabrication of my possible fractured mental facilities, I would be able to exact my vengeance on my own if we are the same quote unquote concept without your aid, just the stars.”
The mare opposite of her was clearly off put by this before shaking her head. “I will waiting for you if you change your mind.”
“As they say,” the mare replied as she made her way to remove her helmet. “Do not hold your breath. Now if you will excuse me, I need to return to the station.”
The mare pulled the helmet off of her head and then twisted her head hard enough to snap it.
The mare shot up from her bed with a hoof across her chest. She was blinking around before tilting her head downwards.
“I just woke up here after dying, so I could call myself Doa for dead on arrival,” she said as she slowly tilted her upwards, her eye fixing on the camera. “But I think I prefer my own name, Spliced Genome, much better.”
Throwing her head back in laughter, Spliced Genome knew that those monitoring her were probably wetting themselves out of fear at what she’d do to them, now that their ability to rob her of her memories had been lost.
They were more than likely terrified because they had lost and she had won.
In a thousand years, the stars would aid her escape and she would make them pay.