//------------------------------// // 486 - The Hard Way // Story: Lateral Movement // by Alzrius //------------------------------// Fruit Crunch didn’t wait to see what spell Starlight Glimmer was casting, rushing toward her with his foreleg cocked back for a punch. Or at least, that was what he tried to do. But his legs wouldn’t cooperate, turning his lunge into a painful somersault that left him crouching in the dirt, desperately trying to get his breath back as he struggled to rise. Up! he screamed at himself silently, his frustration at his own powerlessness hurting worse than his muscles. Get up! “You’ve got to appreciate the irony.” Starlight’s voice was mocking, earning her a hateful look from Fruit Crunch. But the colt’s angry expression only made her chuckle. “You and your friends tried to fight me because you all thought you were special, didn’t you? You had super powers, or whatever those were, and your animals and your little club name and everything. But now look.” She canted her head at Cleansweep, the filly still staring blankly ahead as she kept her fore-hooves on Starlight’s side, pouring healing magic into her. Even as Fruit Crunch watched, more of Starlight’s wounds vanished, bruises fading and cuts closing, undoing the damage she’d taken up. “Those same powers are the reason you’ve lost.” Starlight’s voice lost its sardonic edge then, her expression turning serious. “This is what happens when you try to be better than everypony else. The thing that makes you special always ends up making you miserable.” “The only thing making me miserable is YOU!” roared Fruit Crunch, furious at how the crazy lady was belittling not just him, but everything that he and his friends had achieved. “If you hate being special so much, then how come you’re using all that crazy-strong magic?!” “That’s because I have this.” Starlight’s horn was still glowing, and now Fruit Crunch saw why, as she rolled Feathercap’s unconscious form off of the forked staff they’d worked so hard to separate her from, the colt’s body having kept it intact despite the heavy magical attack they’d all just endured. “The Staff of Sameness give me the power to not only remove cutie marks, but overcome anypony who stands in my way! With it, I can bring about a world of true equality, where everyone-” Fruit Crunch. The telepathic voice made the colt look down, spotting the colorful serpent coiling between his hooves. A quick glance back at Starlight confirmed that she was still ranting, and Fruit Crunch kept his voice low as he glanced back down as surreptitiously as he could. “Venin,” he whispered. “Are you alright?” Yes, confirmed the serpent, her mental voice filled with anxiety, and that’s the problem! You need to kill me, quickly! “What?!” It was all Fruit Crunch could do to keep his voice down at that. Fortunately, Starlight was acting just like the villains in his comic books, continuing to monologue about her motivation for creating a world where everyone was equal in their mediocrity. “Why?!” So long as I’m alive, our enemy can make use of Cleansweep’s magic to restore herself, explained Venin. But if I die, then Cleansweep’s powers will be neutralized until I’m restored when next she dreams, preventing our foe from using her as a source of healing. The snake curled around until her head was next to his foreleg, looking up at him. Do it quickly, before she regains more of her strength! But Fruit Crunch shook his head. “No!” he whispered, aghast. “I can’t! You’re one of us! Part of our team!” You must! The snake’s expression was unchanging, but her voice was insistent. Every second you delay allows our enemy to continue recovering! Fruit Crunch could feel himself wavering. With how frustrated he felt at not being able to keep fighting Starlight, the ability to put a crimp in her plans was incredibly tempting. And it wasn’t like this would do any permanent damage to anyone; Venin would come back. But even so, to kill one of his own teammates like that, just for a tactical advantage… “Cleansweep-” Cleansweep will understand! You’re the one who leads us, so you are the one who must make the difficult decisions, as the Lord Sovereign would! The mention of Lex brought to mind the lessons that he’d been giving them. Over and over he’d lectured them on his system of ethics and morality, repeatedly discussing the duties that ponies – and other members of the “moral community,” which Fruit Crunch was pretty sure meant everycreature who wasn’t a monster – had to each other and how those responsibilities needed to be carried out. It had been daunting at first, requiring the foals to frequently ask him to slow down, define some unfamiliar term, give them an example, or otherwise make his lessons easier to understand…something they’d only done after he’d pronounced their first round of essays about their understanding of “deontology,” as he called his moral framework, to be “totally unacceptable,” and demanded that if there was something they didn’t understand they speak up immediately. That had been easier said than done, however. Every time one of them had asked a question, requested clarification, or otherwise made it clear that they didn’t understand something, Lex had frowned, grimaced, or scowled in response. He’d never gotten mad or berated them, but his displeasure had been clear, and it had been very disheartening for Fruit Crunch and the others to think that they were such poor students. But that had all changed just under a week ago. It had been mid-morning, and the Night Mare’s Knights had been heading toward the manor’s library in order to use the dictionary there to try and decipher the lecture that Lex had given them the previous night. The route there, however, had taken them past the downstairs dining hall, and it had been a complete coincidence that they’d heard Cleansweep’s mother’s voice coming from there as they’d passed by. Even then, what had caught their attention was that they’d overheard her talking about them. “Please, Miss,” Feather Duster had been pleading. “The children are trying so hard, but Master Legis is asking too much of them.” “So what do you want me to do about it?” The voice, partially muffled by the sound of chewing, had belonged to Aria. “If he could maybe make things a little simpler-” “I mentioned that back when he gave those kids an earful at the train station that night he dragged them out there,” snorted Aria. “You know what he said? ‘That was the simple version.’ So I doubt he can dumb whatever he’s teaching them down even more.” “But he gets so mad at them when they ask questions!” Feather Duster’s protest had made them all wince on the other side of the door. “I’m there when he teaches them, and every time one of them raises their hoof and asks for clarification, he looks so upset! I can’t imagine what that’s doing to their self-esteem!” Aria had been silent for several moments, and when she’d spoken next her voice had been unobstructed by whatever she’d been eating. “You know, for someone who follows Lex around so much, you really don’t understand him at all, do you?” “I…I’m not sure what you-” “Look, I don’t care about all that ‘upstanding citizen’ garbage that Lex is teaching those kids,” sighed Aria, clearly having grown tired of the conversation. “If it were up to me, I’d just tell them to keep doing what they’re doing, since they seem to be kicking butt and taking names just fine on their own. But I know Lex, and I know how seriously he takes…well, everything, but especially his whole ‘do the right thing all the time’ shtick. That and he’s terrible at talking to people. So I’ll bet you all the money in this mansion that the reason he’s getting upset whenever they ask a question isn’t because he thinks those kids are stupid. It’s because them needing to ask is making him think that he’s not a very good teacher.” That had come as a surprise to the Knights, and Fruit Crunch could still remember the shocked looks they’d exchanged then. The conversation between the two mares had turned to other topics shortly after that (mostly Aria complaining about having to go into Vanhoover again, and demanding more pancakes before she left), and the kids had hightailed it to the library to discuss what they’d just heard. After a brief debate, they’d decided to be more proactive in asking questions from now on. Fruit Crunch had been worried that would only hurt Lex’s feelings more, but Fiddlesticks had pointed out that if they didn’t ask questions, they’d keep failing his lessons, and then he’d feel even worse about his teaching skills. No one had been able to argue with that, and starting that evening they’d all gotten serious about raising their hooves when they didn’t understand something. The result had been that Lex’s instructions had slowly begun to make more sense, and one of those lessons came back to Fruit Crunch now: Neither intentions nor consequences are reliable indicators of a deed’s vice or virtue. The moral dimension of a particular action only be found by examining the nature of that action unto itself. Even if it was to gain a tactical advantage, and even if it would only be temporary, killing one of his own teammates was wrong. Fighting Starlight would be more difficult that way, but it was what Lex would do. Of that Fruit Crunch was certain. His indecision gone, Fruit Crunch smiled grimly and shook his head. “No. I won’t do that to you, Venin.” I know this is hard, argued the snake. But- “It’s not about doing what’s hard,” interrupted Fruit Crunch. “It’s about doing what’s right, even when it’s hard.” The line made him grin a little; he’d have to put that on his next essay! “I’m not going to kill you, so stop trying to convince me to, and instead help me think of a different plan to rescue Dust Bunny and beat that crazy unicorn!” For a long moment, Venin didn’t reply, simply looking up at him as her tongue slid in and out of her mouth. I question the wisdom of this course of action, she said at last, but if your mind is made up, then I’ll follow your lead. “Good to hear,” grunted Fruit Crunch. But the sound turned into a strained groan as he tried to stand back up, aborting the attempt as his overstrained body made it clear that it the effort was more than it could handle at the moment. “Next order of business,” he murmured, “help me find some way to get back on my hooves!” I don’t have healing powers of my own, admitted Venin. And there’s no way our foe will let you avail yourself of Cleansweep’s magic so easily. But there’s one thing I can do that might be able to help. A little. “Whatever it is, I’ll take it!” As you wish. Hold very still. With no further warning, Venin darted forward, her mouth opening as she struck out at his foreleg. Fruit Crunch had no time to react as Venin bit him, but surprisingly there was almost no pain as she did, the sensation feeling more like a mild pinch. Nor did she stop there, turning to do the same to his other foreleg before coiling her way up his body and slithering all over him, biting softly as she went. It didn’t take very long for her to finish, slithering back down a few seconds later. That should do it. Try moving now. Gingerly, making sure not to move too fast in order to keep from alerting Starlight, Fruit Crunch shifted his posture, eyes widening at little as doing so was met with only a dull ache rather than the sharp pain he’d been expecting. “That’s amazing!” he admitted softly. “What did you do?” My venom is a numbing agent, explained Venin. In large doses it can deaden limbs and even cause total paralysis, but in small amounts it can dull pain and reduce inflammation. I injected small amounts throughout your muscles so as to ease your discomfort enough to allow you to continue fighting. But be warned: this is only masking the damage you’ve taken. It’s not repairing it. “Good enough,” grunted Fruit Crunch, shifting his legs under him so that he was ready to spring. “If I can keep Starlight focused on me, can you hit her with a bigger dose of that stuff and paralyze her?” I can try. But my venom works best when delivered in multiple doses, which means I’ll need to bite her multiple times, and I doubt our enemy will be as reluctant to harm me as you are if I begin sinking my fangs into her. “Don’t worry.” Fruit Crunch glanced around, his anger returning at the sight of Straightlace, Fiddlesticks, and Feathercap lying motionless, along with Cleansweep still staring at nothing as she kept her hooves on Starlight. “I’ve got a plan to make her focus completely on me.” Very well. At your command, then. “Alright…here we go…” Starlight was still talking, explaining how the world she was going to create would be free from jealousy, insecurity, rivalry, and a host of other ills, replacing them with true harmony. How cutie marks invariably led to hurt feelings and division. How being special separated friends and ruined relationships. That last part caused Starlight to look down, as if in sorrow, and Fruit Crunch knew he wouldn’t get a better chance. “YOU’RE WRONG!” Starlight’s head whipped up, her eyes widening as she saw the colt who had barely been able to move before galloping toward her now, bellowing. “BEING SPECIAL-” Whipping the forked end of her staff around, Starlight tried to bring it to bear on the charging earth pony. But Fruit Crunch was already too close, raising a hoof and knocking the twin points of the staff away from him. The blow was heavy enough to make Starlight lose her telekinetic grasp on it, the wooden weapon falling to the ground as Fruit Crunch moved to within reach of her. “-ISN’T A BAD THING!” The punch he threw then closed in on Starlight's face...just in time for her to vanish, teleporting away. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her reappear barely twenty feet away, grimacing, but he didn't pursue her. Instead, he stayed right where he was, giving her a vicious smirk as he lifted the Staff of Sameness and braced it against the remaining wall of the train station, watching as her eyes widened in horrified realization... And then he brought his hoof down sharply, snapping it in two.