Extended Holiday
Chapter 163: Within These Dreary Walls
The council chamber was calm and quiet as Circlet went about her duties preparing to compile the next findings into the archaeological catalogue. The majority of the crew were busy running maintenance and preparing the next meal for the adventuring party. It wouldn’t be long before the usuals began to arrive.
Vital Spark entered first, levitating a sheaf of parchments behind him. “Hello, Caring,” he greeted the engineer. Then he settled into his chair and lowered the report onto the table. “How are things?”
“Everything is fine,” Caring responded.
“So, no unusual activity to report from the city.” He smiled. “Good.”
“I did pick up several flares of energy from within the city, but nothing seemed dangerous.”
“So, more machines waking up?”
“Likely.”
“Got an ETA on the rest of the guys?”
“Not at this moment, though Pensword should be arriving shortly, I imagine.”
“Maybe adjust your time clocks, because we are here, unless you meant arriving to the room,” Pensword teased as he entered. Lost Scribe followed close behind scrawling with a levitating pen as he trotted in to finish last minute notes.
“Somebody looks excited,” Vital returned with a warm smile. “I assume your venture into civilization was a profitable one?”
Lost Scribe smiled as he looked to Pensword. “Why don’t you tell them? You look like a foal on Hearth's Warming Eve.”
Pensword laughed, “We found a Library, and we think we found about fifty books that are still active out of a catalog of what we estimate to have been around ten thousand. It looks like it was their central library. Everything was copied from that location to be disseminated to the public. At least that’s the working theory at the moment. We also found what we think are numerals of some sort carved into a portion of the ceiling. A series of stone blocks and emblems on the floor imply it may have been a play area for foals.”
“Not bad.” Vital nodded his approval. “I found evidence of a third deity in my investigation. Whoever she is, she’s clearly associated with the moon.”
“She?” Rarity asked as she strode into the chamber. “Vital Spark. I do hope you haven’t been cheating on your wife.”
Vital chuckled at the jibe. “Certainly not. Though Trixie has told me she doesn’t mind if I find another mare who catches my eye, so long as I don’t let myself fall out of love with her.”
“He really has grown up, hasn’t he?” Rarity asked of Pensword with a hint of motherly pride.
“I know, I’m going to have to keep an eye out for any single mares to send Trixie’s way. Maybe she’ll find a fit for Vital before Vital finds one.”
“Let’s not be hasty here,” Vital said with a smirk. “We only just got married, after all.”
“Oh? And to Rarity and Rainbow, one day I was very… standoffish from Moonbeam, the next day I was in her intimate space and leaning against her like a stallion with his Mare. Time is relative.”
“Circlet, prepare for an emergency trip back to Equestria,” Grif’s voice filtered tersely as he entered the room.
Pensword wordlessly moved to a station as he pulled up information around the outside of the ship. His body language spoke volumes as his wings tensed and his jaw clenched tightly shut.
“Emergency trip? Grif, what happened?” Vital asked. “And what’s with the new getup?”
The ship’s circuits had already begun to hum as the Gantrithor’s core engaged.
Rarity’s voice was far softer as she looked at the green and silver garment that had settled on the Gryphon’s shoulders and forelegs. “Grif, why are you wearing Hammer Strike’s coat?”
“Rarity, you probably know by now. This coat’s intrinsically tied to Hammer Strike. If he were anywhere on Equis at this point in time, it would find him. If he were dead, it would probably have lost its power. It came to me. That means Hammer Strike’s alive. He’s … just not here,” Grif noted. “Has anybody seen Daring?”
“Last I knew, she was with Hammer Strike on that expedition,” Vital noted. “Is she not back yet?”
“Wouldn’t know. Just got back,” Grif said as he worked his instruments. “But we need her.”
“Can the Gantrithor’s instruments lock onto her or will we need a locator spell?”
“This isn’t Star Trek.” Grif shook his head. “Best we could do is pinpoint life signs, not tell whose they are.”
“We’ll need to issue a total recall regardless, then, won’t we? If this really is an emergency evacuation you’re talking about, I mean.”
“What’s this I hear about an evacuation?” Daring strode tiredly through the door. Her mane, ears, and wings drooped as she smiled weakly at the gathered party.
“Why, Daring, you look positively dreadful!” Rarity exclaimed. “Sit down, before you collapse.”
Daring slouched into the chair and dropped her forelegs and head onto the table. “I’m gonna take a wild guess that you already know about Hammer Strike,” she said without looking up.
Grif tapped the coat. “I had an inclination.”
“And you’re gonna want to hear a full report?”
Pensword looked up from his station. “That would be nice,” he said. “You know, so we actually know what we’re facing.”
Daring sighed as she raised her head. “All right, everypony. Buckle your seatbelts. This story’s going to be a bumpy ride.”
The whole of Mount Canterhorn and all of Canterlot shuddered as a cloudless thunder detonated overhead. An ominous shadow fell over the city as a titanic ship that had not been seen since the Grand Galloping Gala made its presence known. Some Ponies looked on the ship with awe. Others screamed in terror or outrage. The city became a seething mass of activity under the Ganthrithor’s impassive gaze.
“So, uh … are we going to use the intercom or what?” Vital Spark asked as he undid his seatbelt and approached one of the bridge’s windows.
“No point. The princesses know the ship, and it would just waste time,” Grif noted.
“So, what, do we send a letter to them asking them to poof up here, then?”
“No, we fly down there,” Grif said.
“Or we wait for them to fly up here,” Pensword answered as he looked out a portside window toward the castle. Two large dots sandwiched a smaller purple dot, and were flanked by many smaller dots all rising to their level.
“Odd that Luna would be at the castle. I would’ve thought she’d return to Ys by now,” Vital noted.
“She did mention she was going to stay in Canterlot until we returned, so we could give the report to both of them, instead of us doing multiple debriefings.”
“Huh. I don’t remember that.” Vital shrugged. “Then again, I may not have been there for that part of things. I am the errand boy, after all.” The specks had grown into discernible figures now. “Huh. They’re really winging it, aren’t they? Do we need to provide some sort of welcoming committee or something or just let them land and come to the bridge?”
“Just tell them to get in here,” Grif said.
“Already done,” Caring noted clinically. I have a path set to guide them as soon as they land.”
Celestia and Luna were swift to enter, though their pace was forcibly measured, and their expressions were closely guarded. Twilight practically vibrated with excitement and curiosity that she struggled valiantly to hold back.
“Grif,” Celestia greeted. “We assume there’s a reason for your sudden arrival over the city. Did everything go well in your search?”
“We found it. That’s probably half the problem,” Grif responded.
“Problem?”
“Let’s not mince words,” Vital said. “Hammer Strike is gone again, only this time it seems he got sucked into the equivalent of a black hole.”
“A black hole?” Luna asked.
“An event horizon known to occur in the dark depths of space. Think of it like a giant vacuum cleaner. Its gravitational pull is so strong that it even devours light itself.”
“Devour?”
“Relax, Celestia. You’re not in danger, and neither is the sun or Equestria. According to Daring, it dissipated as soon as the magic or whatever it was that pulled him away got him.”
“Vital’s also using an inefficient description,” Grif noted. “We have proof Hammer Strike’s alive, so it couldn’t have been a black hole.”
“I did say it was the essential equivalent of one, not that it was an actual one,” Vital noted.
“Point being,” Daring interrupted, “that he’s gone now, and we’re not sure where or when he may have gone to.”
Twilight groaned. “Again?”
“It is sort of his thing,” Vital noted.
Pensword looked to the group. “So, Library research time to try and find when he might have ended up? We can check the war records from the archives and legends, maybe try tracking him down that way?”
“There have to be loads of references to him there, though. How will we be able to tell which one is our current Hammer Strike?” Vital asked.
“Maybe the coat will have a clue?” Pensword suggested. “Otherwise, we’ll be cataloging every myth trying to figure things out.” He threw his wings up into the air and sighed. “After all, I doubt this is the Daddy timeline. It doesn’t seem right.”
“There is one option,” Grif noted with a sigh.
“Again?” Vital asked.
“What’s is it?” Pensword asked.
“I would assume a certain crazy stallion in a blue box,” Vital noted. “Unless Grif was considering some other means.”
Grif shook his head.
“Well, knowing what we do of the matter, it seems logical that we should be patient, then,” Celestia noted. “If memory serves, the TARDIS tends to arrive when it is needed most. Surely, that will also be the case now.” She looked calmly back at her guard. “Would you and the others kindly return to the castle? Luna, Twilight, and I will be staying on the Gantrithor for now. We’ll call for you, should the need arise.”
“But, your highness—”
“That will be all, Hailmary.”
The mare sighed in acknowledgement of her defeat. “As you wish.” It didn’t take long for her to leave the bridge. A trail of armored Pegasi soon shrank to tiny specks as they descended to the castle again.
Almost on cue, the famous groaning began to echo as a familiar blue shape faded into existence on the deck of the Gantrithor. By the time it had materialized, everyone had already left the bridge as a slightly angry brown stallion made his way toward them.
“All right, where is he? What's he done?” the Doctor demanded with a scowl.
Pensword looked to the Doctor. “We are trying to figure that out fully, actually. He got sucked into a wormhole that acted like a black hole.”
“Those are two completely different things,” the Doctor said abrasively.
Pensword was trying not to lose his own temper. “I know that. But last I checked, wormholes don’t suck things into their maw. Black holes do. It also shut off the moment Hammer Strike was, well, eaten is a very crude way of describing it, but I’m no astrophysicist.”
“In short, like usual, Hammer Strike has done nothing, and still got pulled into some sort of time shenanigans. Or at least we assume so,” Vital said. “By the way, Doctor, which part of your timeline are we interacting with? It’s hard to keep track.”
“Timeline?” Twilight asked.
“Twilight, you’re a princess, I’m pretty sure you’ve already been told about this particular state secret. And if you haven’t, then Celestia and Luna can explain it to you later,” Vital said.
“That’s not important right now,” the Doctor cut in. “Are you aware there is an entire two thousand years in history that I can’t reach? One minute, it was fine, and suddenly it’s all fixed time!”
Pensword blinked rapidly. “Y-you’re saying that Hammer Strike…. But-but how? He’s mortal. There’s no way he could stretch for a whole two thousand years.” He shook his head. “Um … does this mean we need to go to the start of that block to pick Hammer Strike up?”
“Come with me,” the Doctor growled, stomping toward the TARDIS.
“This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with potentially interrupting a family outing, would it?” Vital asked as he drew near the vessel.
“Just … come.” The doctor sighed between words.
“Does that include the Princesses?” Pensword asked as he picked up his hooves and started to follow the Doctor.
“We can’t follow you for this one, Pensword.” Celestia smiled kindly. “We have a kingdom to run, and we have no idea when the TARDIS will drop you off.”
“Then I’ll go,” Twilight said. “My part of the kingdom is significantly smaller, and already governs itself for the most part. Besides, I’ve been meaning to examine this technology ever since Rarity told me about it.”
“Fine, keep close. And if we stop anywhere, stay quiet, okay?” Grif turned to Celestia. “Send a note to Unity for us. Keep Clover and the rest up to date.”
“You have our word,” Celestia promised.
With a nod, Grif entered the TARDIS, following closely behind Twilight. The doors snapped shut behind them almost instantly.
A familiar gray mare with a blond mane and crossed eyes smiled and waved from the control console. “Oh, hello. Are we going on an adventure to save Equestria, Doctor?”
“Can’t very well save the day if we can’t get to the problem, dearest,” the Doctor commented as he started messing with knobs and buttons and such. “So, I’ve set the TARDIS to track Hammer Strike through time. What events it can show will appear on….” He grabbed a screen and slid it over. “This screen. Meanwhile, I'm going to attempt to get us to the absolute end of the period of fixed time.”
“Is it always going to remain fixed to you, then, even when we get Hammer Strike back?” Vital queried.
“I don’t know,” the Doctor admitted.
“Then let’s find out!” Derpy said cheerfully as she jutted a hoof outward. “Forward, to adventure!” Then she became aware of the big blue button she’d just pushed. “Um, ... oops?”
When the counter that Hammer Strike was holding broke, there was only a brief moment of darkness that followed before he found himself tumbling backwards within the same room. It took him a second to correct himself before landing on his hooves near the back end.
While the structure was the same, several things were missing, including the crystals and markings all over the place. Instead, in their place was a number of Alicorns equipped in a set of lab coats with miscellaneous additions, and a few larger Alicorns near the doors. He couldn’t fully describe what they were wearing. The closest he could get would be some form of protective gear.
“Well, that concludes this test, and it was a clear failure,” one of the Alicorns in a lab coat commented as he turned toward the others.
“Perhaps we moved the containment cells over to this wing in the future?” another questioned aloud as his horn began to glow. A data tablet hovered behind.
“It’s possible, but it doesn’t explain why this one is armed with a weapon.” A third directed their attention to Hammer Strike, who in turn stood upright.
“Great,” Hammer Strike muttered. “What did I get pulled into this time?”
“Guards, would you quickly deal with it before it goes and destroys some of our equipment?”
Several Alicorns lit their horns and Hammer Strike felt magic envelop him as they attempted to hold him with telekinesis. They began walking forward moments before Hammer Strike exerted his will and broke their bonds. The guards moved in and attempted to hold him again. This time, Hammer Strike lashed out with Ulkrusher. The war hammer made a satisfying crunch as it connected with an Alicorn’s skull and the bone gave way. Even as the guard fell, Hammer Strike lashed out at another while someone called for more guards. Hammer Strike downed two more Alicorns before he fell in a massive dogpile of Alicorn guards as they all rushed him at once. There was a sudden blow to the back of his skull and the world began to swim.
Though Hammer Strike couldn’t move and was steadily finding his eyes hard to keep open, he could hear the scientists talk among themselves.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know; it somehow managed to harm the guard, through his armor even!”
Hammer Strike felt a weight shift near him.
“Not just that; he’s dead. How in tartarus did it manage to break through the armor, and his damn skull?”
“Strip it of that hammer and place it in medium containment. I want to run tests on it later.”
“Yes sir.”
Hammer Strike couldn’t keep himself active as the world went black.
Hammer Strike groaned as he came to. His neck cracked loudly as he pulled himself off the metallic floor. There was a noticeable lack of weight on him, and a quick check revealed that they had stripped him of Ulkrusher and his sheath for it. He could still feel it, but no matter how much he focused on Ulkrusher, he couldn’t bring it to him in any shape or form.
A simple scan of his new surroundings revealed a decent sized room covered in several plates of some darker metal. More panels overhead served as light fixtures, though bars crossed over them as well. Apart from that, there was a door near the back end of the room with a small window for observations, or so he assumed.
“They got another one, huh?” a voice asked.
Hammer Strike’s stance dropped as he turned toward the voice. In the other corner of the room was an Earth Pony stallion like himself. His fur and eyes were grey, while his mane was pitch black. Size-wise, he was quite thin, though just above being too thin. After a moment, he straightened himself out, determining that whoever it was didn’t appear at this moment to be too threatening compared to the Alicorns.
“Welcome to hell,” the pony said. “The name’s Distant Sight.”
“Welcoming,” Hammer Strike replied as he placed a hoof to the back of his head. “Ex divinia etiam, they hit hard.”
“You talked like they do,” Distant sight said warily.
“Just a phrase in a different language,” Hammer Strike replied. “Though I doubt it’s theirs. I’m Hammer Strike.”
“If they hit you, you must have given them some trouble.” Distant chuckled.
“Pretty sure I felt their skulls crack, so probably a little more than just trouble.”
“Don’t see how you’d do that. You must be really strong if you could even manage to hurt them.” Distant was understandably not fully believing the claim. “You’d have to have some of that fancy Gryphon armor to hurt them.”
Hammer Strike shrugged. “Got plenty of strength, but I also had my weapon as well, which they put somewhere nearby.”
“Likely. Can’t have us lab rats armed, can they?”
“So, that’s what we are.” Hammer Strike continued to scan the room, checking specific sections of it where he could see what appeared to be cameras of some kind. “Brought me here through a rift of some kind, so it was hard to tell.”
“Well, at least I'm in here with a fellow Earther,” Distant said.
Hammer Strike hummed for a moment as he realized just what era he was in. “True. Could have been worse.”
“You a borderer?” Distant asked. “I’ve never seen one as tall as you before, even among the farm hands.”
Hammer Strike frowned to himself. “Kinda. I couldn’t tell you exactly, to be honest. I was mostly on my own.”
“Real gutsy being alone these days, even without these things kidnapping you.”
Hammer Strike shrugged. “Did it for most of my time there.”
“Well, here’s hoping to the three ancients we live long enough to get outta here.”
“Something tells me they aren’t the merciful kind.”
“The ancients or our jailors?”
“Jailors,” Hammer Strike replied simply.
“You have no idea.” Distant sighed. “But I guess you will soon enough.”
Hammer Strike hummed to himself as he scanned the door. He kept his thaumic energy low enough that there were no visible sign of him scanning it. The materials of the door and metal around them was some compound that he had never seen before, a mixture of metals and some crystal-like substance, from what he could see of the aspects. It would take some time for him to completely figure out the compound of the door before he could look towards any form of movement.
That, and perhaps a way to disable the cameras.
“You’re not gonna find a way out. Only time you leave is when they want you for something. And trust me, you don’t want them to want you,” Distant said.
“About as bad as torture by a Gryphon?” Hammer Strike questioned as he continued to scan the door.
Distant swore. “You were tortured by Gryphons and lived to talk about it?”
“Scars came from somewhere, and I can promise you it wasn’t anything the Unicorns or Pegasai could manage,” Hammer Strike replied as he gestured to his torso.
“I’d keep quiet about that, if I were you. Gryphons and these people don’t get on that well. They get word you survived against them, you’re basically signing your death warrant.”
“I figured I would have signed it already by killing three guards.”
“You sure you’re not pulling my leg?”
Hammer Strike held up his hoof as he walked over to the door. After a second, he placed his hoof on it and slowly dragged it toward the center. “They’ll most certainly give me hell for this.”
“Didn’t I tell you we were already in—?”
Hammer Strike reared his hoof back before thrusting it at the door. A loud clang and ring of metal sounded throughout the room at the force that had been brought to bear. After a moment, he removed his hoof from the door to reveal a large dent in the alloy. Hammer Strike shook his hoof for a moment before rubbing it against his chest. “That’s not a hollow door. As it turns out, they use solid slabs for that. Couldn’t tell for sure in the first place.”
Distant looked on with his mouth hanging open.
“I won’t go quietly,” Hammer Strike continued. “That, I can promise.”
“... Okay, is it just me, or does this look like a Gladiator scenario?” Vital asked as he tore his gaze from the monitor.
“Not likely,” Grif growled.
“And this is supposed to stretch for two thousand years?” Vital asked the Doctor.
“Doubtful.” the Doctor shook his head. “That’s just the start.” As he spoke, Grif headed for one of the many room exits. “Where are you going?”
“To see if this place has a gym or a training hall,” Grif answered. The coat seemed to billow a bit as he moved. Metallic plates built at the shoulders to form pauldrons.
“Well, that’s new,” Vital said nervously.
“The coat is agitated,” Pensword whispered. “And Grif is agitated. You don’t want to make them mad.”
Vital gulped and nodded. “Agreed.”
Two strong hooves turned the equines around. “All right, you two. You both need to let go of some stress.” Two aprons were shoved into their hooves. “Which means you’re coming to bake with me. Muffins are just what we need right now. And I’m sure Hammer Strike will enjoy them, too, once we pick him up.”
“But—”
“No buts! Less talking, more walking.” Vital Spark and Pensword’s eyes both widened significantly as they experienced Derpy’s strength firsthoof for the first time.
“Pensword?” Vital asked.
“Yeah?”
“Remind me never to upset Derpy.”
Pensword nodded and gulped. “Duly noted.”
Meanwhile, Twilight was busy peeking into the wiring beneath the TARDIS’ main console. “This place is amazing! And all of this is designed to compress space while engaging in a form of transportation akin to teleportation! And I thought my supercomputer was advanced!”
“Be careful, Twilight, she can get kinda….” There was the sound of a Pony getting electrocuted before getting forcibly ejected as a panel slammed angrily. “Testy with people poking around inside her.”
A familiar pink party Pony bounced around dancing with a strange mare with a blue-gray coat and a brown mane that was just as puffed. The ghosts of their laughter faded as Twilight shook her head.
“Twilight, dear, I know part of this is an effort to distract me, but you really must be more cautious. From what Grif has told me, the TARDIS is a living being, albeit one that inhabits a machine. What you’re doing equates to tearing one of my dresses apart to see how I made it in the first place while it’s still on a customer who just purchased it.”
“You mean like a golem?”
“A highly advanced, fully sapient golem who doesn’t like her matrices to be touched by unfamiliar hooves,” the Doctor said testily.
“So, you’re saying it’d be willing to let me look if I were recognized as an administrator or engineer?”
A tiny extendable arm stretched out from the console bearing a glove with a finger perched precariously over an air horn. The Doctor stiffened.
“Twilight, if you don’t want to be locked in the infirmary, step away from the console, slowly.”
“Why would I get locked in the infirmary? It’s just an air horn.”
He planted both hooves firmly in his ears. “Timelord technology, Miss Sparkle. I believe Miss Belle, sorry, force of habit, Mrs. Strike told you about being smaller on the outside before. What makes you think we can only apply it to our ships?”
Rarity had already carefully edged away from the radius and covered her ears with a set of ear muffs she’d retrieved from a toolbox nearby. “Twilight, dear, I think you should listen to the Doctor.”
Twilight stared in disbelief at the console. “It wouldn’t.” Then she looked nervously down her nose at the blowhorn. “Would it?”
“For Faust’s sake, Twilight, back off and apologize!” the Doctor urged.
“All right, all right, I’m sorry!” Twilight’s wings drew up in a protective cocoon around her as her horn flared and a thin shield wall pulsed into existence between her and the air horn.
A series of beeps sounded from the control panel and the arm retracted, followed by a low ominous boop.
The Doctor sighed in relief. “I assume that won’t need translating?”
Twilights ears drooped. “Then can I at least look at something that’s not a part of the ship?” she begged.
“Oh, sure, sure,” The Doctor said agreeably as he pulled her to one of the monitors and pointed to Hammer Strike’s cell. “There you go. You’re looking at something that’s not part of the TARDIS. Now don’t. Touch. Anything.”
As it turns out, the TARDIS did have a training area, or at least a decently sized room with space for practice. Grif ran through various forms and series of movements as he did what he could to distract himself from the feeling of anger at being unable to do anything. The coat was putting him off a bit. It was unusually heavy. Then again, he had no basis for it’s actual weight.
He considered the coat and what he’d found out about it since his acquisition. Equis had a generally accepted scale for magic items. To the public, this scale started at minor enchanted items and ended with artifacts. However, it was known in some circles there were two levels above artifacts: super tier artifacts and divine items.
Grif had found this out in his research on Vigilance and Vengeance, as the twin blades qualified as a super tier artifact. The coat, it seemed, was another super tier artifact, though its powers were still expanding, and it could very well become a divine item in time.
The coat had been made with great care and love, and that had instilled it with a core of sorts from Rarity’s generosity. From that point, it had been continuously exposed to both thaumic and magical energies coming from Hammer Strike’s body. At some point, these energies had grasped onto the core and began to instill enchantments into the artifact’s very thread. Later, it had tasted some of Pinkie’s own energy, which the coat had explained to Grif had their own strange flavor not like thaumic energy or magic. With every exposure, the coat had grasped something new. Over time, it had grasped more from Hammer Strike’s own will power. Normally, its powers would have plateaued, but instead the constant energy had kept it rising.
Elemental control had been one of its first gains. It became sturdier and gained access to a pocket dimension. From absorbing so much of the energy Hammer Strike created while forging, the coat had inherited his crafting skill and gained powers in transmutation, mending, and modification. It had drunk heartily from Ulkrusher. When Hammer Strike had set it down on the island, it had already been on the verge of developing sentience. When it found Grif, it had been pushed over the edge by the dormant personas within Vigilance and Vengeance. Having drunk heavily of Grif’s own power and thaumic field, the coat was adapting still more abilities. Shingled armor had formed in strategic places along the body, and weapon sheathes had been created within the coat itself. Grif’s wind and Hammer Strike’s fire had gifted the firestorm spell to the coat.
Truly, the coat was adapting at a frightening pace. Where it would end up could be terrifying. Its intelligence too seemed to enhance by the hour.
Grif’s pack, which the coat had taken in when it had attached to him, would be returned to him, only the expansion charm would be evolved into a legitimate bag of holding, with it’s own hammer space. So, Grif chuckled as he’d at least be walking away with something. He stopped his series to look at his hands. Metal webbing had actually grown around his talons from the coat, forming metallic claw covers.
Grif stared at his hands curiously for several seconds before he sheathed his blades and made for the door. It was time to move things forward.
“So, Derpy, when did you learn how to bake, anyway?” Vital Spark asked as the TARDIS’ oven warmed to start heating the muffin batter. It appeared the ship and the mare had come to an understanding about her baking time and the necessity of the slow way, rather than instantaneous gratification. Given how Derpy could get when she really got upset, he shuddered to think what the mare might have unleashed upon the ship, had it decided to go against her wishes in the kitchen.
“The Cakes, actually. They were very nice. I worked with them for a little while before Pinkie Pie came to town. That’s where I mastered the art of muffin baking. My daddy had to work long hours to pay for our house after mamma died, so I asked the Cakes to teach me to cook, so I could make something for him when he got home.”
“And so the legendary muffin mare was born.”
“Aw, shucks.” Derpy blushed. “Really, I’m not the best at cooking. I burnt my first twenty dishes when I started out. Now I do enough to take care of our family. Dinky’s so much better at it than I am. She always tells me cooking is a science, so I guess it just comes naturally to her.”
“Your daughter is exceptionally intelligent,” Pensword agreed.
“I’m sure she’ll help a lot of people one day,” Derpy said.
“Any idea when that’s going to happen?”
Derpy shrugged, then smiled. “No, but whatever is going to happen will when it does. I can wait as long as it takes.”
“And that kindly nature is why we love you so much, Derpy,” Vital said.
“Someone is angling for another muffin,” Pensword said with a smirk.
Vital smiled. “Pensword, I have a whisk, and I’m not afraid to use it,” he warned. “Let’s not start a food war in the kitchen, shall we?”
“It wouldn’t be the first one.” Derpy sighed. “I still don’t know what went wrong with those cookies, but the milk and veggies took care of them. Now they all have villages of their own on another world.” She shuddered. “The eggplant wizards were the worst.”
Vital gaped. “Pensword, is she talking about…?”
“Vital Spark, let’s leave sleeping Ponies lie,” Pensword said, then smirked. “Though I will say one last thing. If anyone goes up against those magicians, well, I pity the fool.”
Several Alicorns worked independently in the medium sized circular laboratory that had been allocated for anomaly thirty eight, as it had been officially designated. The anomaly had been pulled off the being who was now labeled as experimental subject batch eight, number twenty.
The anomaly was a warhammer of clearly magical ability. Though what magic that was, the Alicorns still had not been able to determine. The weapon had been sheathed in not only layers of runic magic of all conceivable equations, but overlaid to a ridiculous amount with metals and alloys of neary unfathomable number. Some of the layers had intermingled to create yet new alloys in between layers, and despite all this, the hammer seemed to remain an unyielding whole.
While subject twenty had been able to wield it, they had yet to find an Alicorn able to lift it for any period of time, as the weapon seemed to do anything from expelling an anti-magic field when they attempted telekinesis to wreathing itself in fire, thunder, ice, freezing flame, freezing thunder, and substances that could only be categorized as frozen fire and/or electricity. Attempts to wield the weapon had resulted in severe injuries. Attempts to remove a small chunk for close analysis had cost lab equipment. The very containment field that held it needed constant renewal, as it had attempted to bash its way out no less than seventy times in the last three days.
“In short, Sir, we are, as of yet, unable to get more than base data on it,” one of the scientists explained to his superior. “Furthermore, we have no clue who made it. Or what, perhaps, being the better answer.”
The head scientist raised a curious brow. “That’s a substantial list of security measures for base data. I want our best cryptologists running down those runic formulae. The sooner we have a translation, the sooner we may be able to gain a hoofhold on this artifact. Or at least a leash.” He stroked his chin. “Yes, this could prove quite useful against those savages….”
“Sir, it is a weapon. Perhaps it would be beneficial to ask….” He gulped. “Andre Factorem?”
The scientist’s superior glared. “While your suggestion is duly noted, such action is … premature. There are other avenues of investigation to attempt first. Let’s not disturb such a dignified member of our society without just cause.”
“But Sir, we keep coming to dead ends. This isn’t something we’ve encountered before.”
“Which is why it would be best for us to gain a better understanding of it before we bother him. This isn’t up for discussion, Ratio. We can’t expect to fill our elders’ horseshoes if we don’t tackle the challenges that rise.”
Ratio sighed in defeat. “Very well, Sir.” He turned to relay orders to the team. They wouldn’t be pleased. Many of them had been up for several days now.
“And make sure to send an active feed to my personal console,” he added. “I’ll work to tackle it from my end as well.”
“Of course, Sir.”
“Good. And then see about getting a shave. You look terrible.”
Hammer Strike sighed as he thought to himself. Distant Sight was off to the side doing something else. The problem that Hammer Strike faced was that he had nothing to work on, and nothing he could do, so he kept to his mind, thinking of plausible things he could do while in captivity.
“You have anybody waiting for you out there?” Distant Sight asked suddenly.
“Right now?” Hammer Strike frowned. “No, technically not. Yourself?”
“No. I’m the last of my family. I was looking for a place when I got caught.”
Hammer Strike’s frown deepened as he continued to think to himself. The silence of the cell left him with just enough to be able to hear outside the cell. Heavy hoofsteps moved down the hall in their general direction. After a few moments, he could hear them stop right before the door. “They’re here.”
Distant almost robotically pressed to the wall as the door opened and several armored Alicorns entered. They all looked at Hammer Strike, and one of them held out a weapon and gestured to the door.
“You know,” Hammer Strike muttered, “it’s almost like clockwork,” he finished as he moved toward the door.
The group never took their eyes off him as they held their weapons out and followed his every step.
Hammer Strike glanced around the containment cells and cages as they directed him to a different segment of the facility. A few markers indicated directions on where to go, but he only just knew the language in text form, so it took him time to translate things.
Time being the one thing the Alicorns gave him little of as they continued to prod and shove him in a direction. It was strange to him, seeing the laboratory in full swing, nothing broken or even slightly worn.
He was led down a hall and into a white laboratory where a metal gourney lay nearby. He was instructed to get in it.
“Clockwork,” Hammer Strike muttered again as he took his place on the gourney.
He was strapped in carefully. The guards gave the restraints several tests before the majority of them filed out of the room. Two stayed by the door, however, as scientists began to enter.
One Alicorn walked into the room in the most nonchalant way Hammer Strike was sure was possible and looked casually at the Earth Pony. “Seems excessive,” he noted in perfect Equish before looking to another scientist. “Is there a reason we have him restrained more than twice the standards require?” He received an answer and his eyes went wide.
“Damn,” he said as he approached Hammer Strike. “You really tore them up good, huh?”
“Uh, sure,” Hammer Strike replied with some confusion. “I mean, I only got a crack at three of you.”
“Still more than most Ponies get.” He laughed. “I’m Dr. Jack Bright. Don’t get used to the face. You’ll probably see a few of them during our time together.”
“Got it.” Hammer Strike wanted to shrug, but kept with just the verbal tone.
“Lucky for you, the first day’s generally the easiest. We’ll be doing some scans, a few light tests, and taking some samples,” he explained.
“Joy.”
“So, are you going to answer truthfully if I ask your basic questions or should I just skip that bit?”
“Depends on what you ask.”
“Name, age, where your from, the usual stuff.”
“Hammer Strike, some hundred to two hundred years old, didn’t really keep count, and not anywhere near here.”
“Fair enough, I suppose. My associates would say we’ll find it eventually, but I have my doubts.” Dr. Bright chuckled. “Is there anything about you we should know?”
“Besides the usual threats and statements that I’d like to make? Not really.”
“Very well. Lets see how long you last.” Dr. Bright said as he signaled one of the scientists to begin.
There was the sound of whirrs and clicking as arms seemed to unfold above Hammer Strike and lower. There was slight discomfort as the tools began their work on him. One or two of the needles bent, but the rest managed to penetrate his hide as they took samples of blood and marrow. Hairs where collected by tiny pincers. Lights of various colors flashed by as he was scanned.
It wasn’t a pleasant experience. Hammer Strike squinted as he thought to himself, but he had suffered worse before. They could harm him, which was in itself an accomplishment, one he did not like the outlook for.
Time seemed to blur as he felt several spells cast upon his being. Some, his field blocked, but others seemed to be strong or nonthreatening enough to be ignored. The scientists looked over the data and spoke in low tones, all except Dr. Bright, who continued to watch his patient. Unlike most of their race, there was neither scorn nor loathing nor anything of the sort on his face.
Just pity.
“His muscle density is off the charts for one of his kind,” one Alicorn noted as he looked over the data.
“I still can’t tell why half our tests malfunctioned,” another complained.
The results had been mixed at best. Several of their more invasive magical tests all out failed while some equipment had registered damage just in the process of doing its job. They had gotten samples, but they were still working out what the confusing DNA strands meant.
Overall, the venture had turned out to be not as successful as hoped, and modifications would need to be made.
Hammer Strike sat within his shared cell, staring at the door as he usually did. He pieced together the aspects in his head, ensured he had it committed to memory, and worked on determining other materials around him for future use.
By now, it had been two weeks since he arrived. By this point, he had numerous new scars covering sections of his body, though they were mostly shallow. The scientists had done at least eight separate checks on him, taking blood, tissue samples, bone marrow. He had started to lose track.
Distant was off to the side, keeping to himself as Hammer Strike seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts.
“They’re coming,” Hammer Strike muttered as he heard the telltale movement.
And just like before, a small squad of guards opened the door, directed their weapons toward him, and afterwards the door, giving a huff of annoyance at him in the process.
Hammer Strike followed directions as per usual, only this time they led him farther into the facility than he’d gone before. They passed by several open testing rooms with other Ponies of varying races all being subjected to different ‘tests,’ as the Alicorns put it.
He frowned as he continued to scan the rooms before they stopped in front of a reinforced door. The head of his current squad walked up to the door before pulling out a small card and placing it against a panel on the side. After a second, the door chirped and opened swiftly. Within was a gurney-like table with significantly more straps than he had seen previously. Above it hovered a tube with several gaps in its sides, indicating segments of it that moved.
Before he could move forward anymore, they forcibly picked him up and held him down on the table. Next came strap after strap as they ensured there was no way he could move an inch.
After a few last checks, the guards exited the room, aside from the usual two who stood at the entrance. After a few moments, Hammer Strike heard the door open once more as a set of hooves walked in and soon rounded to his front. The Alicorn in front of him had no mane to speak of, though he had a thick beard.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, little rock smasher.” The scientist’s grin was unsettling as he levitated a tablet and swiped his hoof over the digital readouts. “Breaking bones, smashing doors. Someone’s been very naughty.”
“What can I say? You’ve got to have something to provide entertainment.”
“I’m sure what we have planned for you today will prove most stimulating, then. Do try to be honest in your reactions. After all, this is for science.” He tapped the tablet and the extension above hummed to life. Its metal shaft separated with a gentle hiss that revealed a multitude of surgical implements ranging from scalpel to laser to clamps and much more.
Hammer Strike tried his best to figure out what was going on above him, but the restraints proved too sturdy for him to budge. The mystery remained until he started to feel a clamp press down on his neck directly below his skull. After a few seconds, he was greeted with intense pain as the back of his neck was cut open near the top of his spine. For the first time since he’d arrived, he was feeling intense pain.
He couldn’t help himself as he started to scream. Pain overtook his normal sense of self.
As swiftly as the pain came, darkness followed, and he blacked out on the table. His moment of silence was ripped from him, however, when he felt himself hit the ground, forcing him back to consciousness. He was back in his cell with Distant Sight. The guards stood by the door flanking the same scientist from the procedure.
“Hmm. It woke ahead of schedule. He really is as resilient as the reports say, isn’t he?”
Hammer Strike snarled as he placed his hooves on the ground and began to force himself upright once more. He felt pain in the back of his head, and what felt like a lump of sorts pressing up under his skin. “What did you do to me?” he growled as he tried to keep his power in check. He didn’t want to give them any information.
“Like with any animal, we simply gave you a leash,” the scientist replied as he glanced to his tablet. “After all, we can’t have any repeat incidents.”
Anger burned in Hammer Strike as he took a step toward the scientist, only for the Alicorn to smirk and press a button on his tablet. It was at that point Hammer Strike felt the lump in the back of his head jolt to life as electricity pumped into his nerves. His body tensed and he gasped before falling to the ground as it cut off.
“It seems to work perfectly.” The scientist smiled as he looked to Hammer Strike. After a brief pause, he turned to the exit. “Be sure to update any other researchers who would like to test subject twenty on the codes to his leash.”
“Yes, Sir.” One of the guards saluted before following the doctor out.
Twilight’s normal purple had darkened to a sickly green as she stared at the screen. “I can’t believe somepony would be so sadistic. Technology is supposed to help Ponies, not … that.” She shuddered, then shook her head mournfully. “How could they do that?” she whispered.
“Too easily,” Pensword said grimly. “Those who feel themselves better than others often do.”
“... How long are they going to keep doing this?” Vital asked, half in disbelief and half in disgust. The barbarity of the neural collar was only too clear.
“They think themselves the highest form of life there is,” the Doctor noted. “If the Timelords encountered something like him, they’d have three goals in mind.”
“And what would they be?”
“Try to understand him. If that was possible, try to recreate him. If it wasn’t, try to destroy him.” The Timelord shrugged.
“I … suspected the latter,” Vital admitted. “It sounds like your council. No offense meant to you,” he cleared his throat, “Lord President.”
“I haven’t been that in a long time.” The doctor shook his head sadly. “Keep in mind, Vital Spark, my creed was mercy. These Alicorns, they’re just like he was.”
“And with time locked, there’s no way to help change that, is there?” Vital sighed heavily. “How many lives?” he said hollowly to himself.
“There is only ever one answer to that question.” The Doctor’s face became hard. “Too many.”
“On that, we can agree. Has the old girl been able to help Grif work off some of his steam?”
“Bits at a time, apparently. I didn’t even know that room existed.”
“I think you’ll find she has a lot more surprises for you.” Vital smiled sadly. “Try to listen to her a little more attentively, if you can, Doctor. There’s a lot I think she wants to tell you.”
“Part of the fun is in the mystery.” The Doctor shot him a smile.
Vital smirked. “Careful, Doctor. You get her upset, and she’s liable to put you on the couch.”
He laughed. “She’d never do that.”
“If you say so, Doctor. Regardless, let’s try to keep this particular snippet between us. I’d rather not see Grif get angrier than he already is.” Vital’s horn lit up and levitated a steaming basket. “Anyway, if you’ll excuse me, I have a delivery to make to a friend. Maybe we can talk again sometime. I enjoy our conversations.”
“See you later,” the Doctor acknowledged as he worked at the console.
Vital tapped his chin thoughtfully as he approached one of the ship’s many sliding doors. “I wonder if she has a muffin button.”
Hammer Strike felt miserable for a change. The recent addition of the leash had led guards to ensure his cooperation at any given turn. It had only been in his body for roughly twenty hours, but it had been used seven times. It was just enough to cause him to be unable to control his movement and ensure he felt a decent amount of pain, but not enough to cause lasting harm, from what he could tell.
For now, he had to be more cooperative until he could figure out a way to resist or remove the chip in the back of his head.
“So, it’s started,” Distant commented.
“So it seems.” Hammer Strike sighed, rubbing the side of his neck. “They give everyone these, or am I just special?”
“They don’t give everyone the same things.” Distant turned his back to Hammer Strike and moved his mane to the side, revealing a series of criss-crossing scars. “But they do it a lot, put things in, take things out. A Lot of them mess with your mind. A few people just straight up die from them.”
“Sounds like fun,” Hammer Strike replied. “I’m sure the guards will put it to great use. Perhaps I can burn it out.”
“You can try.” Distant shrugged. “As far as I know, no one’s been able to damage them, not even the Gryphons.”
“Got to start somewhere.” Hammer Strike shrugged in return. “I’ve got to give them some troubles, perhaps get them to focus on me more than others.”
“Maybe. I just hope you know what you’re doing.” Distant shook his head.
“Well, it’s worked for you so far.”
“You already got their curiosity. And I’m pretty sure you pissed off a few of the guards. Too much attention is dangerous. Last thing I need is a cell mate who I outlive.”
“Don’t have to worry too much about it. I’ve always been too stubborn to die.”
“Stubbornness don’t count much when it comes to these people.”
“If need be, I’ll just hold back less,” Hammer Strike replied with a smirk before directing his attention toward the door.
“You already tried breaking it once. They’re not gonna let you try again.”
“Wasn’t trying to break it.” He frowned. “They’re coming. Sounds like more than normal.”
To avoid more use on the leash at the moment, Hammer Strike moved to the back wall along with Distant Sight.
“Another cell transfer?”
As per usual, the guards entered the cell and scanned the two residents. Unlike the other times, however, the guard pointed to both Hammer Strike and Distant Sight to follow. Hammer Strike frowned as the guards led them through the corridors once more.
After several turns and some hallways, they came across a small checkpoint station. An airlock-like system stood before them. The guards shoved the two of them into the system and the door closed behind them in turn. After a brief moment, a small chime rang through the air as the secondary door opened, bathing the chamber in light.
As Hammer Strike’s eyes adjusted, he was able to see what appeared to be a walled-in segment outside of the facility. There were a decent number of other Ponies all separated into their own groups, mostly by race. Distant Sight seemed familiar with the room as he stepped out into it and gestured for Hammer Strike to follow.
It was warm and bright, but there was one thing that Hammer Strike noticed that broke the whole thing for him. There was no solar energy in the light and warmth that bathed over the area. The more he looked above, the more he began to notice small things, such as the fact that the sky seemed almost perfect, a clear day with next to no clouds.
He frowned to himself as he directed his attention back to the ground. It was at this point that he was able to notice that a good number of Ponies had their attention directed toward him. From what he could gather, it was most likely because he was, from the looks of it, one of the largest Ponies in the room.
“So, he’s the one they’re talking about?” one Pegasus asked, eyeing the newcomer.
“He’s a big one. I’ll grant you that,” a second said as she paused in her wing-ups.
“There’s no way he killed a guard,” the first Pegasus spat. “No way a mud Pony could do what we haven’t been able to.”
“Those scars say otherwise, Cap. Look at those eyes. He’s not scared, he’s calculating. That Pony’s seen battle.”
“How many mud Ponies do you know who have actually been good in a fight?” the Pegasus challenged.
“How many mud Ponies do you know who’ve got claw and tooth marks all over their body?”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He spat again.
The soldier bounced into the air and flapped her wings. “Gonna challenge him, then?”
“You know the rules. We don’t go near the mud Ponies or the hornheads and they leave us alone.”
“So, what’re you gonna do, badmouth him all day or recon?”
“Send somebody out, but don’t let them get caught. Last thing we need is hornheads poking around.”
The soldier saluted. “Yes, Sir.”
Over in another section of the clearing, the Earth Ponies were busy tending the soil and breaking open a pile of rocks.
“Not ta be a gossip, mind ye, but isn’t that there the Pony what’s been causing a stir?” a younger stallion with a flat brown mane and slate-gray eyes asked as he tapped his hoof on a rock and it spit clean open. He sighed at the sight. “Another dud. Hardly a crystal a’tall.”
“Come off it, man, you know nuthin’ grows here,” another stallion spat. “Anyway, good to see another one of us here, or bad depending on how you split it. Biggun, innint he?”
“Oh, of a certainty,” the first agreed. “Poor soul. Family must’a put up quite a wake for him. How many trees you reckon his casket’dve needed?”
“Gotta recken an even dozen,” the second stallion said.
“I suppose we’ll have ta make him welcome, show him the lay o’the land, as ‘twere. Such that it is.” He spat venomously at the earth. “If this cursed ground would actually do something.”
“Keep a strong back and a steady trot. We’ll see our fields again.” The second patted the first’s back comfortingly.
“Mother Faust be willing….”
The Unicorns were perhaps the most open of all their fellow prisoners in their scrutiny of the new arrival. The stallion radiated a form of energy and charisma that was almost palpable to them. The breed carried an air of authority and nobility they had not noticed in his … cousins.
“My, what a frightful sight. Wouldn’t you agree, Star Breaker?” A stallion with a red-gold mane and ruby fur ran a hoof through his hair for what had to be the tenth time in the last five minutes. The tattered remains of a purple-lined velvet cape barely stretched back to his shoulders now.
“Do you feel it?” the mare beside him asked. Her air was slightly less refined. She wore a simple homespun cloak that, while not nearly so flashy as her companion’s must have been, had fared far better in their confinement. She looked in Hammer Strike’s direction with her white milky eyes.
“Naturally.” The colt snorted derisively. “Probably the bastard son of a noble. There’s a reason we don’t mingle with their kind. Doubtless, his unique heritage is what drew our captors to him.” He tossed his mane again. “Call the rest of the herd together,” he ordered. “This mixed heritage provides dangerous ground for our pact.”
“Very well,” Star Breaker responded, though she stared at the new arrival for a few moments longer. There was something about him she couldn’t quite understand. With a shrug, she turned to do as ordered.
Hammer Strike hummed to himself as he directed his attention toward the group of Earth Ponies that Distant Sight was leading him to. “Something tells me this will be delightful.”
“It’s not so bad, just the way things have always been.” Distant shrugged.
“Could be worse, I suppose.” Hammer Strike sighed.
“Well, would ye look’it what the cat dragged back. Distant Sight. It’s been a sore while since you’ve been let out.” The stallion with the gray eyes jerked his head Hammer Strike’s way. “Who’s your friend?”
“This is Hammer Strike.” Distant Sight gestured to him with his head. “Gave the Alicorns real trouble taking him in.”
“Sadly, no more than three broken skulls,” Hammer Strike commented.
The Pony burst into a fit of laughter. “Skulls. That’s a good one, that is! Oh, I like you, friend. Good sense of humor’s just what a gathering like ours needs.” He extended a hoof. “The name’s Jaedite.”
“I’m sorry to say I’ll probably disappoint you in that department.” Hammer Strike returned the shake. “A pleasure.”
“Whelp, c’mon, you lot. Might as well introduce ye ta th’ rest o’the herd. Distant’s not one for gabbin much.”
“We’re quite similar in that regard.”
Hammer Strike gave a shuddering gasp as he came to. He was within his shared cell on his side, but he felt horribly wrong. Distant showed some concern, but at the moment, he was too distracted recollecting his memories.
They had come for him once again, down the halls, into the same familiar room where they implated their leash into him. The same scientist greeted him. He shuddered as he remembered. This time they had him on his back as the machine above came to life. He watched it crack open with a hiss before lowering tools toward his chest.
He pressed a hoof to his chest, noting a large scar that ran vertically along it. They didn’t even put him under for the surgery or give him anything for the pain. Instead, they left him awake as they tore it open and began to adjust his insides.
He steadied his breathing as he recalled what the doctor had told him. They wanted to ensure he stayed alive. They messed with his adrenal glands in some way, some form of alternative method of keeping him alive for longer.
He sighed as he pushed himself upright. It took him a moment to realize that Distant was talking to him. “Sorry, I … I didn’t quite catch that.”
“I asked if you’re okay,” Distant reiterated. “You’ve been off ever since the yard.”
“Sorry, yeah, I think.” He took a breath. “Haven’t had any real sunlight or moonlight for some time. A part of me just … doesn’t feel right.”
“We were outside four hours,” Distant noted.
“That’s not outside.” Hammer Strike shook his head. “There may be light and warmth, but that is not outside.”
“How could it not be outside?”
“There’s no solar energy. It’s all fake.” He frowned. “Of that much, I am certain.”
“You mean they keep us caged all the time, like animals, and they don’t even give us an opportunity to see the sun?”
Hammer Strike nodded. “They’re quite cruel in how they do things.” He hummed aloud as he thought to the cameras. He’d determined there were only two, diagonal from each other in the room to capture every space. After a brief moment of focus, he was able to shift the aspects ever so slightly, breaking the wires connecting them and shifting the insides to the point of being useless. There was no other method of looking into the room or listening in besides physically being there now. “Well, would you look at that?”
“What?” Distant asked.
“Their cameras broke.” Hammer Strike gave a soft smirk. For the first time in a while, he allowed a brief bit of thaumic energy to escape his eyes as he viewed his handiwork.
“So, they can’t see us anymore?”
“Nor can they hear us.” Hammer Strike frowned. “I’ll be honest with you. This won’t last too long before they try to figure out what happened. Thankfully, they won’t be able to figure out how it was done.”
“Your acting like the Unicorns do when they practice magic,” Distant noted sourly.
“Not quite.” Hammer Strike shook his head. “I use something different from magic. Next to nobody can recreate it.” He sighed. “It forces me to stay alive, should I have the will for it; though I can still feel pain, and it leaves me scarred.” He huffed as he placed a hoof to his chest and began to attempt some form of treatment for the wound.
“So, that’s how you’ve been doing everything you’ve done?”
“Correct.” He nodded. “This is another reason why they’ve been really focused on me.”
“Sleipnir’s shoes.” Distant sighed.
“Oh yeah, there’s those, too.” Hammer Strike looked to his back hooves. “I, admittedly, keep forgetting those are there.”
Distant’s mouth hung open as he looked on the legendary horseshoes.
“Yeah, I can’t remove them. Nor can anyone else....”
“Those shoes have been lost to legend for generations,” Distant noted. “How?”
“One night, when I put up a fire off to the side of a road, an older stallion in a cloak came up to me. I conversed with him and let him ‘gather his strength’ near the fire I had made before he set off once more, but not before giving me a pair of rusty horseshoes. Put them on to check them out, and they kinda attached themselves and cleaned themselves up perfectly.” He shrugged. “Turns out he also had double the amount of legs of a normal pony, based off the hoofprints.”
“And older stallion wearing a cloak? Did he have a strange accent?”
“It’s been awhile, but I believe so.”
Distant shook his head. His tone was awed when he spoke. “You actually met Sleipnir.”
“I’d love to talk more, but I think one of the scientists or guards are currently about to enter the cell to figure out what happened to the cameras.” Hammer Strike frowned as the cell door was suddenly thrown open. The two prisoners were promptly escorted to the ‘open grounds’ earlier than expected. Hammer Strike couldn’t help but smirk as he glanced at Distant.
Hammer Strike sighed to himself as he glanced to the cell door once again. It had been over a month by this point, and from what he could tell, it was sometime in February. The temperature of the pseudo-outside was decently chilled, though just at a fine level that nobody would require anything extra.
He had gone through two additional surgeries, one in his chest, something to do with his lungs, and the other was something to do with his skeleton, though he had no idea of what they did. It was hard to extract information when he was refraining from speaking the language. They were much more open when they thought he couldn’t understand them, but sometimes he wished he could ask more.
“Ex Divinia etiam, I miss my forge.” Hammer Strike sighed. “Hell, I miss any activity that isn’t sitting around or surgery.”
“You were a blacksmith on the outside, then?” Distant asked.
“Yeah.” He rubbed at his growing beard. “Huh, I swear I told you about that.”
Distant shrugged. “You’ve never said anything so concrete as that.”
“Fair enough.” He frowned. “Yeah, I’m a smith. I’d like to think I’m pretty capable. I can smith almost any weapon type and common tools and items, like nails and hinges.”
“Well, it’s definitely a rare enough skill set among our kind.” Distant nodded. “Hard to hammer metal with your mouth.”
“I use a hammer designed with my hoof in mind.” Hammer Strike frowned. “Wait, you all smith with hammers made for your mouth?”
“Best we could do.” Distant shrugged.
Hammer Strike’s frown deepened. “I suppose it doesn’t help that I was somewhat self taught in a way. I learned some things from my uncle some time ago, but I didn’t really retain it at the time.”
“You’ve led an interesting life,” Distant said. “Sorry you ended up here.”
“We’ll have to see how things go from here, huh?” Hammer Strike frowned as he rubbed at his throat. “What did you do before all this?”
“I was a farmer, like most of my kind.” Distant shrugged. “Farming is what we’re good at, after all.”
“Admittedly, I’ve never been particularly good at it. My connection to the planet was more on the metal side of things.” He chuckled, then winced before placing a hoof on his chest.
“Take it easy,” Distant urged him. “I don’t think there are Ponies here who see as much testing in a month as you do in a fortnight.”
“I guess they don’t like me much.” He smirked in return before steadying his breath. “Yeah, I noticed that. I mean, I’ve only seen you go in for testing once in the entire time I’ve been here.”
“You must stand out.” Distant frowned. “That’s not a good thing here.”
“I mean, I don’t think I’ve heard of anyone else killing some of them.”
“We Ponies are lucky if we can scratch them.” Distant chuckled dryly.
Hammer Strike sighed. “Two sets coming our way. Based off the time, it’s probably for the ‘yard time’.”
As Hammer Strike commented it, both moved toward the back wall before the doors suddenly opened to reveal their usual guards. True to his guess, the two were led to the false yard again. Hammer Strike shrugged to Distant before heading over to a spot for himself.
One thing that Hammer Strike was able to notice as he scanned the area was that the numbers of Ponies seemed to only barely fluctuate. There was always at least a hundred collectively, though the amount of new faces that greeted Hammer Strike grew every time he came out.
He frowned as he scanned over groups. The Unicorns kept to themselves and seemed very secretive. The Pegasai attempted to keep to themselves, but they were loud at times and horrible at sneaking around, considering the open grounds and the fact they couldn’t fly without being electrocuted back to the ground. The Earth ponies kept to themselves and attempted to get as little attention as possible.
“You’re very far from home,” a voice said tepidly.
Hammer Strike kept himself from tensing, though only just barely before he turned towards the source of the voice.
A mare sat not far away. She was a Unicorn with a dark blue coat and a silver mane and tail. She wore a simple homespun cloak, and her eyes were milky white, indicting blindness. “And you have a great journey to go before you’ll return there,” she said slowly, tilting her head as she stared at him.
Hammer Strike allowed a small smirk to form before he turned his attention fully to the mare. “Oh, I know. Trust me on that one.”
“Do you?” she asked curiously. “Do you truly see the path of your hoofsteps? The void of pain and madness you'll walk through? The madness will lessen, but the pain will remain.”
“Not as clearly as you, perhaps, but I’ve seen glimpses of it.” He frowned. “I know it will not be easy, nor will I come out of it the same as I am now.” He glanced back at the open yard.
“But you will come out, and with you a great light.” The mare nodded. “You will live to walk out of this city. That alone is more than any of us.”
“I certainly wish I could do more about that.” Hammer Strike sighed. “But that may be out of reach.”
“Weep not for the damned,” she told him. “You must look forward, always forward.”
“It’s all I can do, eh?”
“The lords’ sweat, the ladies’ tears. These shall encompass you. The sun and the moon follow in your wake. The dead who walks will guard your shadow, and you shall pave the path to end the war of the tribes,” she told him. “Fear not the dark. Be wary of even the light, for your path lies between the two. When the time comes, run. And, if it pleases you, remember Star Breaker, a blind filly who prays only for your success.” She bowed her head gently to him.
“I appreciate it.” Hammer Strike gave a gentle nod. “The other’s may have questions for you when you return to them. I can already hear them discussing your actions, I’m sorry to say.”
“I am a lowborn blind filly,” she said. “A resource; nothing else.”
Hammer Strike frowned to himself. “I still wish you the best.”
Star Breaker nodded as she rose to her hooves. “I thank you for that.”
Hammer Strike sighed to himself as he was led to the surgery wing again. Once more, he was pushed into the room, strapped down onto the table, and forced to watch as the familiar scientist went over his tablet to figure out what the next operation would be.
“Oh now,” the scientist looked to Hammer Strike. “Looks like they finally approved my request.” He chuckled and turned to one of the back cabinets. His horn ignited as he pulled out a small vial.
Hammer Strike squinted his eyes as he tried to read what was on the vial before the scientist turned around with a syringe in his telekinetic hold. He frowned as the scientist drew near. It only took the Alicorn a moment to inject him with the substance.
The scientist stood back and waited for a change. The device above did not activate as Hammer Strike glanced around the room. It wasn’t until Hammer Strike felt his eyelids closing that he realized what he’d been injected with.
“Good, a triple dose worked well for it,” the scientist commented to the guards.
Hammer Strike drifted into darkness, unable to keep himself active anymore.
Someone shook him gently. “Hey, wake up, come on!” a voice called.
Hammer Strike startled awake as he began scanning the room rapidly. “Oh, gods, what did they do to me?” He groaned as he moved to an upright position, still periodically checking the room. He couldn’t explain it, but something felt off to him. He was on edge and constantly checking and thinking on the room around him.
“Hey, calm down. Look at me.”
Hammer Strike attempted to look at Distant only to occasionally snap to something else in the room for a split second. His mind felt like it was running a mile a minute. He groaned as he placed a hoof on his head. “S-sorry, something doesn’t feel r-right.”
“What did they do?” Distant asked. His eyes were wide, though he managed to keep his voice under control.
“I’m not q-quite—” He growled to himself as he stuttered. “I’m not quite s-sure. They sedated me for a f-first before activating the machine.”
In a surprising first, Distant laid a hoof on Hammer Strike’s shoulder. “Hey, things will be okay. We can figure this out.” Whether he said it to comfort his friend or to try and ease his own fears, Hammer Strike couldn’t tell. Maybe both.
“I-I’ll be fine.” Hammer Strike gave a shuddering sigh. He knew he wasn’t in danger at the immediate moment, but that doctor had definitely done something to him. Some part of his mind was active constantly as a result of whatever they’d implanted. He went silent as he thought on what they could have done to his brain, but each result came back the same as an unknown variable.
“Damn them,” Distant finally spat.
“I’ll be f-fine,” Hammer Strike repeated as his focus seemed to drift. “The only logical thing I can think of is they altered something in my brain. But I’m still functioning. Perhaps some enhancements, though not the stable variety.” He began to mutter to himself as he continued to think through what they could have possibly done. “Perhaps some alteration of chemical production, though that wouldn’t explain—”
“It’s like your mind is racing faster than you want it to,” Distant observed. “Like you’re always trying to think ahead of everything.”
Hammer Strike snapped his attention back toward Distant. “It feels like when I was planning out the construction of my house in the middle of a winter storm. Desperation, thinking as quickly as I could to ensure the best outcome for what I needed. Also similar to the time I fought Gryphons, multiple using their flight against me while I thought through the steps needed to deal with each and every one individually.” He placed a hoof on his head again. “The only thing is that I can’t stop it. I just can’t stop thinking.”
“You need to try and focus. Surely, there’s something you left behind that you can focus on?” Distant encouraged.
Hammer Strike sorted through years of memories as he tried to find a singular target for his mind to latch onto. It drifted from topic to topic. Smithing to carpentry, architecture to stonework. It wasn’t until he drifted to friends and family that he finally thought of Rarity. Sure, his mind still raced and drifted, but he tried his damnedest to steady himself. “G-give me time. I-I can adjust,” he assured. “I just n-need time.”
“Well, time is definitely what we have,” Distant noted.
Hammer Strike gave a shuddering breath as he tried to focus his thoughts. Everything was a constant stream of activity. There was the room, the aspects, the exact measurements of the room being somewhere around twenty meters squared by rough estimate based off his own hoof range and measurement.
He groaned as he placed a hoof to his head yet again. He needed to try and calm his thoughts. Distant Sight had been taken out of their cell sometime earlier, about half an hour, give or take twenty seconds. From what he could guess, it was for some more tests or experiments, though he was unable to determine what kinds of tests Distant was put through. Apparently, the Alicorns prefered to make it a mixed bag, depending on the tribe they were working with. Or so his cell mate had explained.
They appeared to be testing Distant physically and magically, rather than physically with augmentation or enhancement. As such, Hammer Strike suspected these experiments to be more magically focused, unlike what had been done to himself.
He frowned as he continued to think. There was only so much he could do in the cell. Though, if he worked hard at it, he probably could break out. But even so, it wouldn’t work out for him. He didn’t have a full layout of the facility, and he was stranded on an island. There was no way he could escape, even if he did manage to break out.
Then there was also the fact that he knew Celestia and Luna were to be born here, and he was to somehow find and assist them in some way.
‘How am I supposed to do that, anyway?’ He frowned as he thought to himself. He was a prisoner, a captured test subject that was destined to be experimented on until he perished.
His ear twitched as a set of hoofsteps began to resonate through the floor outside the door. Three sets. Two Alicorns moving in and a much smaller individual, most likely Distant Sight, based off the movement pattern.
Knowing the system by this point, he took a few steps back toward the wall to ensure they had no reason to bother him. Distant was marched into the room looking tired and sore. As soon as he was secure, the guards filed out and the door was closed and locked. When they were gone, Distant thumped heavily into his corner.
“Y-you all right?” Hammer Strike questioned, even as he struggled to rein his mind in for the discussion.
“Just a long day.” Distant sighed. “They’ve been weird lately.”
“Weird in w-what way?”
“Asking questions about my life and things I’ve been through, taking new samples, wanting to test my limits on things.”
“I-it certainly sounds strange. Most of the o-other test subjects a-appear to go mostly through physical tests or magical tests based off race, but nothing like questioning from what I’ve g-gathered.” Hammer Strike frowned.
“I think they’re building up to something big.” Distant’s tone was worried.
“But for w-what, is the question.” He tapped his hoof. “What type of questions are they asking, or is it just a j-jumbled mess of questions ab-bout your past?”
“Seems like everything, to be honest.”
“C-curious. I wonder if they’re t-trying to find something or someone r-related to you.”
“Best of luck to them. As far as I know, I’m the last of my clan.”
Hammer Strike gave a shrug before he placed a hoof to his chin in thought. After a few seconds, he began muttering to himself, mostly thinking aloud on what the Alicorns might be thinking.
“—Doesn’t help this is around the f-fourth time they’ve pulled you in the last t-two weeks. Perhaps there’s something in y-your genetics or magical signature that they find interesting that they want to study further with relatives or other c-cases.”
“I hope they find what they want soon and leave me alone.” Distant sighed again.
“Unlikely.” Hammer Strike frowned. “They’ll keep a-asking, over and over, repeatedly, until they either f-find what they want or finally determine that you’re not lying or inc-correct.” He looked up to Distant and winced at the sight of his glare. “S-sorry. I can’t keep myself from s-saying the first thing that c-comes to mind sometimes.”
Distant sighed again and shook his head. His anger was misplaced, and he knew it was. His expression softened into the tired lines of one who has seen much work. “It’s okay. Just, thanks for listening.” He laid his head down, and soon fell into deep sleep.
Hammer Strike nodded as he directed his attention back to the wall and continued his train of thought on their current situation. He already knew he wasn’t going to rest.
Hammer Strike scanned the open grounds once more as he tried to memorize the new faces that had arrived. There was also a lack of certain faces that he had wanted to keep tabs on, which was a shame, but it made his job easier.
He was alone, off to the side of the field where no Pony congregated, effectively separating himself from their group system of basically splitting each other by race. Each of them seemed to regard him as his own group, probably due to his abnormal nature compared to the three of them.
The Pegasi were curious about his scarring. His battle-like nature seemed to make them ponder. His thaumic field and magic garnered the attention of the Unicorns while the Earth Ponies seemed to regard him mainly due to the fact that he was, technically, abnormally sized compared to most of them.
His ears perked at the sound of gravel and loose earth crunching beneath approaching hooves. “All right, nopony else has actually tried talking to you before, and I’m sick of all the whispers and warnings. Court-martial be damned. What’s your story, Earther?”
“Which part in particular are you asking for?” Hammer Strike replied simply, only glancing to confirm the Pegasus’ position.
“How you got here, why everyone’s scared of you, what rumors about you are true, the usual interrogation.”
“Alicorns brought me here. I’m an anomaly, so the others are afraid of me, yourself included. And for your last question, probably most of them.” He answered each in order, focusing his attention on the position of the pegasus compared to himself.
“You know how to fight?”
“Better than most of you.”
“Is that an insult?”
“If you want to take it that way.” Hammer Strike frowned as he noted the equine’s shift in posture. The warrior was potentially about to lunge, so he needed to ensure he was ready for it.
“And assuming I do?” the Pegasus growled.
“Your problem, not mine.”
As soon as the Pegasus left the ground, Hammer Strike shifted to the side, giving himself enough room for the antagonist to miss him. Within a moment’s notice, he reached out and grabbed the warrior’s tail, halting the momentum before he turned on the spot and threw the scrapper bodily into the nearby containment wall.
The metal reverberated from the impact as the Pegasus bounced off and rolled against the ground. While he was still breathing, it was clear that the blow had knocked him out cold.
Hammer Strike frowned as he turned his attention back to the yard. Several heads turned away from him toward their own respective groups. It was clear they all had noticed the situation, if they hadn’t been watching from the beginning.
It was only a question of how long until the guards came out to deal with him.
“What just happened?” one of the Unicorns whispered as they stared.
“Sparrow met a mountain,” Star Breaker answered almost nonchalantly.
The Pegasi were resolute in avoiding association with the aggressor, though some few offered sympathetic glances when their superiors weren’t looking. All of them were trained well enough to recognize a skilled hoof at work. The strike had been well timed and executed with flawless grace that bordered on inequine. He hadn’t lied about his skill in battle, as the soldier had learned the hard way.
The Earth Ponies kept their peace, though many huddled farther away from the stallion as a result of the show of force. While they may tolerate his presence, it was clear Hammer Strike would never be considered truly one of them again, if he ever were in the first place.
Hammer Strike frowned. “Pathetic.”
‘Another day, another surgery,’ Hammer Strike thought to himself as he sighed aloud. It was a familiar process by this point. Walk to the room, get strapped down with the equal amount of restraint they used the last time when the did something to his head.
That was the part that worried him. When it came to testing these changes to his body, most of them, he could handle, but when they messed with his head, he felt like he would almost never recover to a normal style of thought again.
With that in mind, he had no idea what they were going to do this time. His eyes roamed over the room in an attempt to find the scientist’s tablet and perhaps glean some information on what they were going to do to him this time.
The scientist was taking his time, more so than usual as he roamed the room gathering things from the cabinets and other containers. He frowned as he pulled out a syringe and measured a fluid inside it. The solution was similar to the fluid they used the first time to knock him out, which was not helpful to the Earth Pony’s line of thought.
Hammer Strike wanted to panic, to find some method of getting off that table and back into containment, but he had no choice but to watch as the doctor finished measurement and drew close. The last time they knocked him out, it led to the problem with his mind, constantly active and unable to relax. What would they do to him this time?
The process continued, and it took notably longer for him to start feeling the effects of the sedation. As he struggled against the growing darkness, he witnessed the machine above become active once more. Several sharp segments lined up to his head as they lowered closer and closer to his left eye.
Then it all went dark once more.
Whether it was the sedation or he passed out from shock, he couldn’t tell anymore. He was good at hiding it most of the time, but he was becoming more and more horrified of each encounter with the Alicorns. Most Ponies went in for, at most, two surgeries before they perished due to incompatibility.
He wasn’t like most Ponies.
At least five different things had been altered or placed in his body by the Alicorns, and from what he could tell, they were curious to keep going. He had endured more than any subject had ever experienced, and yet he was still alive.
His eyes snapped open once again as he quickly jumped to his hooves. He was back in the cell. Everything was slightly darker than normal, and for some reason he couldn’t make out anything on his left side. He raised a hoof and looked at it through his right eye before crossing it over to his left where it suddenly left his vision.
His breathing became unsteady as moved his hoof back and forth. He couldn’t see.
He couldn’t see through his left eye.
They blinded him.
His heart rate climbed rapidly as he reached for the left side of his face and probed the surface. Something was there. He had his eye, but he was still blind. Whatever they were testing didn’t work.
“Hammer Strike?” Distant’s voice cut into the panic. “Are you okay?”
Hammer Strike turned to the side before turning much further than normal to see Distant. “I c-can’t. I can’t see through m-my left eye.” He fumbled over the surface again in vain disbelief. Or perhaps a hope that something would change. Such trauma is difficult to accept. “Ex Divinia etiam, they blinded me,” he finally said.
“Your eye is grey,” Distant said. “Otherwise, it looks normal.”
“Doesn’t ch-change the fact I can’t see through it!” Hammer Strike’s voice rose before he winced. “S-sorry, just….”
“Calm down. I know this is stressful, but you need to remain calm.” Distant tried to keep his voice low and steady as he looked into Hammer Strike’s good eye.
Hammer Strike couldn’t calm himself nearly so easily. Rather than staying in a panicked state, he started to grow enraged. The Alicorns did this to him. They blinded him. They were responsible for this, for his pain, for being trapped in the past, for everything. He kept his power in check to the best of his ability, but he could feel the area around him warming slightly. “Those bastards,” he growled.
‘They’ll pay. I don’t know how, but I’ll make sure of it. One way or another,’ he thought, then squinted as his anger overtook rational thought. Then something clicked in his head. A sudden overflow of information poured into his mind at once. His body locked up as he felt the equivalent of static enter his brain.
He couldn’t tell how long he sat there, or what was going on in the outside world until he suddenly hit the ground. His breathing came heavily as the world came back into focus.
“Hammer Strike? Did something happen?” Distant asked.
“I-I’m—I’m fine. I’m fine. I—” he steadied his breathing as he turned toward Distant. It was at this point he realized he was looking to his left. He reached a hoof up to his left eye and was able to see it, though it felt … different somehow. “W-what h-happened?”
“It’s glowing red,” Distant stated.
“L-like, my whole eye?”
“No, it’s like your normal eye, but … red, and glowing.”
Hammer Strike looked to his hoof once again, moving it back and forth between his left and right side. The one on the left seemed to take in more detail than his right. “I c-can see. It’s just … different.”
“By the ancients, they can make eyes now,” Distant swore.
Hammer Strike started to focus on his hoof, moving it back and forth as he determined how much detail he could see. He wasn’t paying attention to anything else at the moment, and didn’t notice that the cell doors were opened until his ocular unite picked up the presence walking in front of him.
“Fascinating. It seems the chemical imbalance produced from anger stabilized the connection, allowing the cerebral pathways to start accepting the information,” the doctor said.
Hammer Strike wanted to attack. Every fiber of his being wanted to break the Alicorn’s neck. But it would only result poorly. Instead, he fixed the scientist with a flat glare.
The alicorn cast some kind of spell. Hammer Strike could feel it wash over him, but his field blocked the effect. Distant seemed stuck in place, so he was guessing it was probably paralysis. The Alicorn approached Hammer Strike and got down to examine the eye closer. After a few minutes, he nodded to himself and left. The door closed behind him as the spell released its hold on Distant.
Hammer Strike squinted at the door and slowly began to relax. He quickly focused on the cameras and once again disabled them before he slumped in place. “Gods, I d-don’t know if I can keep this up.”
“One day at a time, my friend. At least we’re both here,” Distant offered.
“I-I can’t keep up this act anymore,” Hammer Strike explained. “Gods, Distant. I c-can’t. It’s complete and utter a-agony for every waking moment I’ve been awake since they c-cracked open my body and did something to my skeleton. What I described to you before keeps me a-alive. No matter what happens, it keeps me alive.”
“I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through,” Distant sympathised. “But if you want to make them pay, you’ll need to keep strong.”
“I know.” Hammer Strike winced to himself. “Gods, I know. I’ve h-had to do it for so long as is. Longer than you’ll ever know.”
“I can listen, if you need to talk.”
“Distant I—” Hammer Strike split his attention to ensure the camera was still deactivated. “Gods. Distant, I’m not from this p-period of time.”
“This period of time?” Distant needed clarification.
“The Alicorns were messing about with time-based magic,” Hammer Strike explained. “I’m not from … here. I don’t have f-friends or family here. They’re all some thousands of y-years away from here.”
“Then tell me about when you come from,” Distant said. Whether or not he believed was beside the point. He was helping a fellow prisoner to cope. That was all that mattered.
Hammer Strike gave a soft exhale with a small smile on his face. “Believe it or not, we’re all unified under a single nation.”
Keeping track of time was difficult when they kept him in a cell with no real sight to the outside world. By his rough estimate, Hammer Strike had been there for roughly four months by this point. He sighed to himself as he scanned around the room. It had been roughly a week since they changed his eye out, and the difference was still very notable.
“B-based off their previous schedule so far, you’re probably due for another round of questions sometime soon,” Hammer Strike commented to his cell mate.
“You’re starting to track them?” Distant asked.
“Mentally, I’ve got nothing else k-keeping me active, so I’ve started to count in between sessions for both of us,” he explained. “It’s been r-roughly seventy hours and ten minutes since the last session.”
“I don’t know how you stand it.”
“It’s the only thing that’s h-helping me keep going. Helps keep my stuttering to a minimum as w-well.”
“I suppose that makes sense.” Distant nodded.
“Here they come,” Hammer Strike commented suddenly as he sat upright. “Got all your answers already prepped for the eighteenth time they’re going to ask you?”
“I do.” Distant nodded. “Guess I'll see you soon.”
Hammer Strike nodded as the Alicorns entered the room once more and directed Distant out of it. As per usual, they took extra care to ensure he didn’t move from his spot while they removed Distant. He sighed to himself again and began his mental timer. Usually, these questions would go on for roughly an hour and a half to two hours. This gave him time to do his usual thing of absolutely nothing.
The cells were as bare as always, nothing but a questionable bed on each side of the room. From what he gathered, the cell walls were made of some sort of steel alloy, though he couldn’t figure it out by just the aspects alone. The cameras relied on some sort of magical relay, though he wasn’t able to get a close enough look at them to figure it out for sure.
Unless he wanted to add some risk to what he was doing, he had to keep himself in check and barely use his field. It was mostly active in resisting drugs and magic from his time there. While it was enough to keep from weakening, it was a stagnant point. But he couldn’t use his power without pulling the attention of the Alicorns to himself, and he was definitely against that.
He frowned once more and continued to think to himself as he formed ideas on the others, and some ideas toward what they were trying to gain from Distant Sight. And behind all this deliberation, he kept track of how long the session was taking.
From minutes to hours he counted on, growing somewhat worried when the time ticked over their usual limit of three hours.
His worry only continued to grow as the time ticked over further. Eventually, they reached ten hours.
Then fifteen.
Twenty. Thirty. It kept going on and on.
Forty. Fifty….
It wasn’t until he heard some hoofsteps that he finally started to feel better, except the door opened to reveal just the pair of guards. They directed him outside the cell and down the same path they always did for yard time.
None of the others interacted with him, having been effectively scared off by others in their groups or by being one of the witnesses to his antics.
There was still no sign of Distant Sight.
Time marched on until the guards slowly began to remove Ponies from the yard. Hammer Strike was one of the last to be removed. And as he walked alongside the guards, he finally gave in and turned towards one of them.
“What happened to D—” He sighed as he recalled the number. “—To group eight, subject fifteen?”
“Eight fifteen is currently in ongoing research,” one guard responded.
“For this long?”
“Some experiments may take extended periods of time,” the second guard droned.
“It’s been roughly a hundred and twenty three hours. Considering your previous tests have taken less than a fraction of the time, this is highly abnormal.”
Rolling their eyes, they stopped a passing scientists in the corridor and had a brief discussion with him. After a few moments, they began walking again. When they reached the cell, the guard looked at him in a bored cold stare. “Subject eight fifteen did not survive the procedure,” he informed Hammer Strike as they closed the door.
Hammer Strike stared at the door for a few minutes. “He … didn’t make it?” He shook his head in disbelief. “N-no, that can’t be right. They’ve only been q-questioning him,” he muttered to himself. “They haven’t done a-anything besides question him since I got here.”
‘What could they have done to him?’ Hammer Strike continued to think through the problem, and more importantly through Distant’s behavior over the last several weeks. It couldn’t have been simple questioning. Yes, Distant wasn’t in the best of shapes, but he wasn’t about to drop dead anytime soon. He’d confirmed that multiple times, both through questions and checking the Pony thaumically.
And yet, despite how fast his mind was forced to work and all the intellect he had to bear, he just couldn’t wrap his head around it.
Report on operation Veil Blade.
Reporting scientist: Crucis Murum
Experiment went through as planned with no unforeseen issues. Runes where correctly inscribed, the correct materials where set up, and we had the sacrifice’s true name carved upon the blade. However, when the blade was used to enact the operation by killing subject 8-15, nothing happened. The subject died as intended, and there was a brief pulse of energy, but afterward nothing. We’re still attempting to find out what went wrong. But given the rarity of the materials and the time for preparation, we don’t believe the council will authorize another attempt. The idea has been put forth the problem was connected to the use of 8-15 as a sacrifice, but we have found no evidence to corroborate the theory.
At this point in time, we can only say for certain that nothing happened and subject 8-15 died. If we discover anything, it will be put in a further report. Subject’s body has been disposed of in the usual fashion. Reports show such a loss won’t greatly affect the experiment stock, though we’ll soon be moving on to nines, it seems.
-fin-
Frustration.
Hammer Strike’s breathing was unsteady as he laid on the floor of his cell.
Anger.
Every minute he sat there, he kept thinking, thinking on what happened, what the Alicorns must have done, how they killed Distant.
Rage.
Distant was the only friend he had in this place. Gods, he knew that it was only a matter of time, but he couldn’t handle the thought. His mind screamed. He wanted vengeance. He wanted to fight them. Every fiber of his being wanted to kill. His vision swam as he struggled to keep himself in check.
The temperature of the room was rising.
He couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t keep the act up anymore. And with that blunt reality crashing down on him, something in him finally broke.
His breathing suddenly steadied and he stood upright. Embers licked off his body that soon grew into flames. First they were yellow, then gold, then red, and finally they shifted to a deep blue.
The barred door was glowed a bright orange. The walls and floor began to warp and buckle. Then the corners began to soften and melt as the surface gradually liquified into so much slag.
Panicked calls shrieked from outside.
Hammer Strike didn’t care.
The room was continued to warp as spell after spells filled the room in an attemp to counter the flames. But neither water nor cold would slow them. How could they when matched against such a towering force the Alicorns had stoked ever so lovingly over the last several months? Fire retardant foam vaporized before it touched him. Sleeping spells were shattered and ground to dust.
Payment must be made.
The bars began to melt. The voices became louder and more numerous.
In a laboratory not far from prisoner containment, Ulkrusher banged and slammed against its containment in a frenzied effort to break out. At this point in time, the lab was empty, and thus no one was there to renew the quickly dwindling shielding that bound it. The angrier Hammer Strike got, the stronger the hammer battered its containment until, finally, it shattered its bindings and reduced the closed door to brittle metal shards, then tunneled through the walls, killing several Alicorns and injuring a dozen more on its path to its master. Pain would be met with pain.
Just as the bars to Hammer Strike’s cell slid off in a semi-liquid puddle, Ulkrusher broke through the door and came to roost almost gleefully in its master’s hooves.
Hammer Strike couldn’t help it as a broad smile sprang across his face. “Perfect. Perfect, perfect, perfect. We’ll get them. Don’t you worry.”
Alicorns were a hardy species. Stronger than the average Pony, and much harder to kill. Thus, it was rare for an Alicorn to fear anything. The guards who looked into Hammer Strike’s face as he bore down on them indeed felt no fear.
Terror would be much more accurate.
“I don’t think I've ever seen him smile like that,” Grif commented. Of everyone watching, he seemed to be taking things with the least effect. Even the Doctor’s face was a look of cold horror as they witnessed the massacre.
“That’s the kind of smile of someone who’s, well, if you’ll forgive the term, broken,” Vital said.
“Battle frenzy, or berserker, if you prefer,” Pensword corrected. “They killed his only friend after abusing both of them almost endlessly. They just didn’t realize how badly they messed up.”
“Unfortunately, I think that's a little too optimistic, Pensword,” Grif commented as he watched. “I’m the last person to doubt Hammer Strike, but he’s not going to be able to kill his way out.”
“I’m … not sure he even wants to,” Vital said and swallowed heavily as his face paled. “Wow. I mean, I know videogames and movies help prep for this kind of thing, but to watch it happening in real life….” Ulkrusher was popping skulls like berries in a press.
“Video games and movies are nothing like the real thing,” Grif noted grimly. “They’ve pushed him past the point where he cares, and that's usually the point that keeps warriors from killing indiscriminately.”
“So, for lack of a better term,” he cleared his throat and whispered in the Gryphon’s ear. “War Doctor mode.”
“Maybe, but at least the Daleks killed quickly,” Grif responded.
“I’m going to assume that comparison is between the Alicorns and the Daleks, not Hammer Strike and the Daleks?”
“Gold star.” Grif rolled his eyes.
It was at this point on the screen that they witnessed electricity arcing off of Hammer Strike’s neck, leading them to believe the leash placed into him beforehand was working overtime in an attempt to stop him.
Hammer Strike showed no sign of feeling it.
Pensword winced. “How has that thing not exploded by now?”
“Advanced tech. I’m sure the Doctor may or may not have an explanation for it,” Vital said.
Twilight stared in abject horror.
“The Alicorns were experimenting with some very dangerous things,” the Doctor noted, then looked grimly at Twilight. “Are you still certain you want to pursue that kind of technology now, Princess?”
“I … I would … we would never—”
“You might not. Others would and will,” he said as he stared at her not with the playful eyes she had known in Ponyville. No, this wasn’t Time Turner. These eyes were far older, far wiser, and far more jaded. “Perhaps now you can appreciate your friend’s argument.”
The smile never left Hammer Strike’s face as he continued on his warpath. The electricity by this point had stopped, either because it wasn’t working and they knew it or they’d burned it out. It was at this point that the observers noticed a series of small tubes sticking out of Hammer Strike’s back and side.
While he was still fighting with as much force as he could, the Earth Pony was slowing. The impact of his hammer was lessening. After a minute, he threw his hammer full force at the head of one of the guards attempting to detain him. The hammer flew forward in a rapid rotation and took the guard’s head clean off before Hammer Strike slumped forward, hitting the ground with a thud as he finally succumbed to the tranquilizers.
“And that's the game.” Grif sighed.
“But I assume not the match?” Vital asked.
“Obviously,” Pensword said. “He’s still got more to do. He said so himself.”
“Doesn’t make this part any easier, though,” Vital noted.
“I can’t argue with you there,” Pensword agreed as he peered grimly at the monitor. “Definitely not.”
Rarity wept.
Hammer Strike frowned as he came to. Ulkrusher was nowhere near him at this point, and he was in unfamiliar territory. After a moment, he sat upright and looked around. He was in a new cell, and it was covered in a new material that was completely alien to what he had known before. A single bed sat to the side, and a heavily reinforced door waited to contain him.
The new domicile was nearly two floors in height. An observation room of sorts could be seen through a viewing window near the top. There was a thick glass slab coated in a field of energy, one he assumed was designed to keep him from doing anything to it. Behind the glass, he could just make out a few desks and chairs. Unlike the other cell he was in, there was no camera system in this room, leading him to believe that they realized there was no point if, for some reason, it kept “malfunctioning.”
There was a series of lights overhead, half of them were off at the current point, and slowly dimmed over the course of time, leading him to believe its design was meant to help him keep track of time and possibly aid him in his sleeping, though odds were that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon.
He snarled to himself as he realized he was fully detained now, and it would take several months at minimum for him to decipher the room thaumically. “C-contained, new materials, energy system, most likely a field—” He growled to himself. “Damn it. Damn it. D-damn it.”
He continued to scan the room repeatedly, trying to figure out everything he could about the area. “Not steel, not-t a reinforced iron, copper, tin, bronze, titanium, chrome—” He growled again as he tried to calm his mind. “Mixed alloys….”
He grabbed his head in frustration. He’d failed to keep his power in check, meaning they would be investigating him further as a result. He’d screwed up. He’d worked so hard to keep it hidden, and what did he do? He just went and let it all out!
‘They deserved it, though.’
He shuddered at the thought. “They d-did. They did,” he conceded and muttered.
He felt a point of energy suddenly appear in the room. It was a spell of sorts. “Not Alicorn. Too simple, not overly complicated, but at the same time it feels different from magic.” He continued to scan the spell for a time, then finally gave in and spoke up. “I know you’re there.”
He looked up to where he could feel the energy originating. “I know you’re watching me. I can feel you. They did t-this. They opened us up! They made us this!” His breathing grew erratic. “They killed him. They killed him!”
He gave a few shuddering breaths as he tried to rein himself in before a smile took over. “But don’t worry. We’ll get the last laugh…” He inhaled and chuckled to himself. “We know how we die, and it isn’t here. Don’t worry. They will pay.” He continued to chuckle to himself before the energy suddenly snuffed itself out.
“It was me, but it wasn’t me. It was someone else, too. Different, familiar, and yet it wasn’t.” He continued to mutter to himself as he tried to figure out who was also watching.
“Well, that was … a thing?” Grif said.
“Which part, the rambling, the inequine slaughter, the lack of any chance at sleep, or all of the above?” Vital asked.
“It was like he was talking to us,” the Doctor noted. “But that's impossible.”
“Doctor, this is Hammer Strike,” Pensword pointed out with a completely flat expression.
“I suppose he knows we’re trying to get to him,” Grif commented. “He wants us to know he’ll make it through this.”
Dark streaks of mascara painted a pair of black lines down Rarity’s cheeks as she stared at the screen and clenched her teeth. “How much longer does this go on?”
“I don’t know,” the Doctor admitted.
“And we can’t do anything?” she pressed.
“Fixed time. The TARDIS can’t enter it,” the Doctor admitted grimly.
The mare’s voice was perfectly level as she spoke, which made it all the more terrible when she fixed her gaze on them. “Boys, I’m going to need a moment to myself. I’ll be in my room. You call me the instant our next view comes on, do you hear me? I don’t care if it interrupts my beauty sleep or I’m in the middle of a treatment. Come. Get. Me. Do I make myself clear?”
Vital gulped. “Crystal.”
She approached the screen and kissed it, then whispered, “I love you, darling,” before finally excusing herself with all the poise she could muster.
“She’s going to bawl her eyes out, isn’t she?” Vital asked.
“If it were Trixie?” Grif asked before turning and leaving the room.
Vital sighed and shook his head. “You’re playing a cruel game, Fate,” he muttered.
Twilight shook her head. “No, not fate, Ponies. And I’m sick at the thought that I share the same tribe with them.” She rose slowly and strode to the door. “I’m going to keep an eye on Rarity’s room, just in case she needs something.”
Vital nodded. “Just don’t forget to take care of yourself, too, Twilight.”
Twilight sighed and nodded. “I know.”
Hammer Strike was once more on the surgery table, straps holding him down as the machine above began its work on his right eye. He was effectively sedated, and the primary scientist couldn’t help but frown as he looked over his tablet. “If they took even a minute longer, I wouldn’t be here, he muttered to his colleagues. “Make sure it’s putting in a leash meant for a Gryphon. We don’t want a repeat incident.”
“We’re putting in the strongest one we have,” another scientist noted. “How did that weapon break containment?”
“From what the cameras were able to pick up, Eight-Twenty’s anger seemed to cause the weapon to go berserk. Without reinforcement, it was able to break through.” The scientist frowned. “As it traveled to him, it took the head off at least two guards and severely injured at least three more.”
“Why are we even keeping it alive?” a guard asked.
“Because it still lives,” the scientist replied simply. “None of its kind has survived more than two surgeries, and yet it still lives after well over double that.”
“Doesn’t seem worth the risk.”
“It does when you realize that it doesn’t have an augment stabilizer,” the scientist clarified. “It has, by this point, seven augments to its body, and yet it still functions and is able to use them, even.”
“So, you’re seeing how far you can push it?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t we? Not even a Gryphon can handle more than three. So, what makes this one so special?”
The colleagues nodded, and one of the spoke. “Very well. Let’s just hope this is enough.”
“A Gryphon can’t handle the larger leashes. It causes permanent damage in most creatures, but with this one’s resilience, it should be just enough,” the scientist commented smugly.
“Let's pray you’re right.”
The scientist rolled his eyes. “If you lot are so worried, you can start equipping security with some more tranquilizers.”
“We’re worried because it seems like our chances of hitting it get less and less the longer it’s active.”
“Then start employing those androids we use on the Gryphons.”
“Are you going to sign off on that for the council?”
“They’ve already accepted that more drastic measures should be taken for this one, considering it was placed in the highest security cell we have.”
The tech nodded. “I'll get right on the order, then.”