//------------------------------// // Das Verhör / The Interrogation // Story: Opfer der Freundschaft / Victis of the Friendship // by Frag the Editor //------------------------------// "So, let's start with your name." Celestia said. "Marlton Johnsohn." Marlton replied fast. "Ok, your... appearance. It's very disturbing, care to explain why?" Celestia asked, intrigued with what the answer could be. "Would you like the start of my current state or before my current state?" Marlton asked. "Before your current state." Celestia responded. Marlton took a deep breath; then parted his lips. "It all begins back at Camp Edward, better known for housing the American Pyramid Device, it also held the Elemental Shard. According to Group 935 information, it held important "souls" which powered it. In the current form of the cycle, it was broken and Ricky-tophen..? Rictofen! Yes, Richtofen. Stu's pal was killed in hellish Alcatraz; the worst prison on Earth. We were awoken from cryosleep a little later and..." "You zoned out when I mentioned 'cycle'. You are feeling alright your majesty?" Marlton pointed out. "I'm...I'm. Sorry, the fact that this is all coming at once is..." Celestia wandered off mentally. "Overwhelming. Speaking of..." "Sorry, go on. Continue." Celestia spoke. Text in red like this is Marlton, normal color is just Celestia. "So, to take it a bit easier. We will start where my story began. A nuke detonated at Camp Edward, where I worked, I hid in a Nuclear Bunker and got a bus into a sleepy little town known as Hanford. I knew Hanford as it was another one of our sites, the name I can't remember. Now, this is where it gets a bit loco. The Earth was crawling with zombies, they were infected from Element 115. It came from meteors that came from the Apothicons. The apothicons lost a Great War, a war that Rictofen and pals took part in; we had to send a hermit from an old 935 Research Site in Siberia to sometime in the BC's. Still with me?" "What in my own name did you just say?" "I am just going to assume that is your varient of "Oh my God."; this now means instead of referring to you as Princess, I should just refer to you as God of the Sun." "Celestia is fine. Continue" "Back to Hanford, I met up with Abigail 'Misty' Briarton. A farmhand. We then got found by a bus on said bus was two other survivors. Russman was a former Broken Arrow Employee; aka Camp Edward Employee, who was over exposed to Element 115. He lost his memory and gained this 'sudo' resistance. Turns out he could die but not be infected, he forgot this commonly. Stuhlinger, well where to start, we butt heads and don't get along good. We get along but me and him surviving alone? No-ho thanks. He was talking to his friend Rictofen. "The one from the Great War?" "*pfft* No. This is ULTIMIS Rictofen. The Great War Richtofen is Primis." Celestia's face stopped, her brain shut down "Did I do this to a monarch?" "Yes, I honestly think you broke her." The guard said. "Doctor or...?" "Probably should." The guard responded. Marlton will now speak back in the normal text colour. About six impacts echoed through the halls every second. The human and Unicorn guard running to the medical wing of the Castle. The guard tripped but Marlton went back and carried Celestia; now making his back strain under the literal force of the sun. His foot impacted the wooden door as Marlton and the guard came cascading inside; alot like that underground town. "I know this is the Infirmary and all but..," Marlton inhaled, "is anyone here a doctor?" "Really?" The receptionist asked. "Better phrasing... Is anyone here made to deal with... Face-stuckage?" Marlton squeaked out. The receptionist facehoofed before putting her hoof on a little button. "Could Dr. Pres-Tion report to the front desk? Thank you." The receptionist said. Marlton took a sigh of relief. Marlton and Misty was about... one hour from each other. Russman however, was in Manehatten; six hour journey. He laid on the streets; just like most creatures who thought their business could strive. However, after a two-day rest, he got up and walked around; leading him to get kicked out of numerous stores. Then, Sweet Teeth's Baking Treats, he hoped for food and found a sweet goldmine. "Hiya! Welcome to Sweet Teeth's Baking Treats how may I-" The waitress was cut off. "Think you could help an old man-" Russman started. "Sure we can, we give free pack of six donuts to the elderly! Just got to ask your age to our age ratio and your age and we'll get started!" The waitress stared into his eyes. "Well it's one to one and I'm... shoot how old am I again?" Russman rambled. "Listen, what's your name?" The waitress asked. "Russman, yours?" "Licky Lips, one of the best bakers and greeters, my husband works the back." "Listen, I'm not as young as I used to be and I really just wanna say I appreaciate the offer. I'm..." Russman said looking at her, she stood up to his chest. "You have memory loss?" Licky Lips asked. "I think so?" Russman said shakily. "I would be like those people who say "Just forget about Memory Loss hahahaha" such imbeciles." Licky commented. Russman just chuckled. "Honestly if you know where to look, they ain't that bad." Russman smiled at the mention of Misty and Marlon... Stuhlinger too. "Good lord by pals must be worried." Russman snapped out. "Listen, take the donuts and make sure you come back often!" Licky hastily said. "Thanks Licky." Russman smiled with appreciation. -----{ Violence until the End of the Chapter}------ Russman stepped back into the streets where the rain began to fall. 'Oddly familiar' Russman thought as the umbrellas shot up above the crowd. He slumped inside of an alley when four ponies came around wearing hoodies. "You got the goodies gramps?" One teased, others laughing. "Hand over the donuts and maybe, just maybe, you will leave here breathing." Another said. "You young people picking on old men? Weak. Ha, wait till your buddies here you got beaten by someone who seen worse then you." Russman joked back. One stepped forward with the knife. "We tried to tell you gramps but..." The one with the knife said. An electric swing hit his smug face, sending him flying to the floor. Russman giggled like a seven year old with a bad joke. "Shocking, ain't in?" Russman busted out laughing.