//------------------------------// // Chapter 18. Give a Girl the Right Shoes and She Can Conquer The World. // Story: Magnets in a Mare's World. // by Triple-Rainbow //------------------------------// I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT! ZEPHYR IS FREE! I don’t know who did it, but he’s gone, and they took High Heel with them as well. High Heel? Really? HIGH HEEL?! High Heel was an adrenaline junkie and an egotistical narcissistic actress who commits crimes to get in front of a camera! I’ll admit, she’s a powerful adversary, BUT HIGH HEEL? What in the world could they need her for? A few other inmates managed to escape in the chaos, unsurprisingly, but nobody bothered to tell me. They’re all faceless nobodies anyway, idiots who think that stealing candy from a baby is some grand hurdle to leap over. I truly don’t understand this world. Psychotic criminals and murderers are in the same prison as morons like Calendar Criminal or Condiment Queen. They belong in an asylum, not a prison next to sadistic villains and monsters. It’s just one of the many flaws in this system that I need to fix when I break free. Sooner or later I’ll have my opportunity. Either the heroes will come to understand my philosophy, which is unlikely, or the villains will take my helmet from the vault and realize they can’t use it. As far as everyone here is aware, my powers come from a special enchantment, one that only I can use. They’ll need me, and I’ll finally break free and take down Nightmare Moon. Out of all the ponies out there, she’s the biggest threat to my plans. I won’t be able to use the same tricks I did when we first came to blows, and I doubt she’s been idly sitting on a yacht this whole time. My only advantage against her as of now is the truth of my abilities, other than that I have little that I can use against her. I only know that Telepathy and non-metal based attacks are a weakness, but where there is one there are bound to be others. I can trust that Nightmare Moon has already prepared for another fight with me, just as Matter Horn and the others prepared to fight the Sirens again. Speaking of those insufferable terrors in teenage bodies, one of the sisters also managed to join the breakout. Fucking Sonata. Security has been reinforced, a few undesirable faces have been let go, (Thank God) and I don’t have to hear any more shoe related humor for a while. At least until High Heel is inevitably captured again. High Heel was marginally bearable thanks to her new medication, so hopefully she’ll be placed on it again when she returns. While Pegasi, and Mutants I suppose, could stay at high altitudes for long periods of time, the more land-based creatures didn’t fare well in the thin altitude. It’s also why even flight capable heroes rarely go above a certain altitude for too long, a concern that I ignored in favor of flying above the low gliding pegasi and birds, and something that High Heel wasn’t worried about either. Even if I hate her and find her absolutely annoying, I do pity her somewhat. Perhaps if I had known about her condition then I could have done something different in our first encounter. I remember it happened only a day after Rarity returned my costume. I was hard at work, scrubbing toilets and doing other menial labor at Camp Everfree. I was essentially the Camps errand boy. Even if I didn’t know how to do it, I learned it. It wasn’t easy, and it certainly wasn’t enjoyable, but it was life. I had fallen into a mindless motion, drifting into idle fantasies until I felt something in my pocket. A vibrating buzz from my pants tickled a faint sense of familiarity in my mind. My hand flew to my side, patting my leg down hoping to find a cellphone, only to be disappointed that it was my membership to the Harmony League. I threw a glance at my surroundings, confirming that I was completely alone before I stared at the shaking card. Ann experimental touch on the glowing emblem “answered” the call to arms and a lifeless voice spoke to me. “Magneto, your assistance is required at 12th and Mane Street. High Heel has broken into the Trot City bank and is evading authorities. Please leave immediately.” As quickly as it came, the voice left as the card became inert. I waited a for a moment, shaking the card to see if it had suddenly turned off. I expected Harmony to be a bit more descriptive, perhaps tell me who High Heel was or what I should do. I was a fool for hoping that Harmony would be any more helpful. I slipped away from the camp thanks to Timber, excusing myself for a nature walk as I threw on my costume and raced off to Trot City. Thanks to my practice, I was able to cut down my fifteen-minute flight to roughly seven, of course that small achievement didn’t mean much to the police or anyone else. To them, I was already well over seven minutes late. I was easily able to spot High-Heel since she dwarfed most buildings. It was hard to make out any details because of the ruby colored bubble that surrounded her. There were also several pegasi officers trying to break through the rose-colored barrier that surrounded her, further obscuring her as I surveyed the scene. Officers, a mix of unicorns and earth ponies, blockaded the street and kept civilians away from the mad mare. Deciding to approach this in a professional manner, I glided down to the police to see if they could help at all with the situation. The crowd noticed me before the police, and several officers quickly raised their weapons but holstered them as I floated to a familiar cream-colored mare with two toned hair. “Afternoon, Commissioner Bon-Bon.” “Why aren’t you up there, fighting her?” The commissioner demanded. “Because I want to know what I’m dealing with. Harmony didn’t give me may pointers for dealing with High-Heel.” “You fly up there, and you hit her really hard or tie her up. What else do you need to know?” “What about weaknesses? Anything that could give me the edge?” I pressed. “You think we’d need you if we knew?” She shot back. She was even less helpful than Harmony. I had hoped that the older mare would offer some thoughtful insight, but as I would come to learn, these ponies were better as strategical fodder and healers than actual thinkers. “Fine. Have the officers withdraw, I need room up there,” I ordered, not allowing her to get in a word edgewise as I flew up to confront the snow skinned mare. The pegasi officers were hesitant to back away, but eventually returned to the street as I passed by them. The first visible layer of High-Heel’s shield fell, still holding up the second less visible layer to protect herself from any officers hoping for a lucky shot. High Heel was a white colored mare with bright pink hair, with a horn that was dyed a bright shade of red that matched most of her costume. I had heard of certain actors painting their horns to be unique, but I hadn’t seen it in person until then. The crime against cosmetics was crowned by a brass headpiece that reminded me of the Scarlet Witch’s crown. Her arms and legs were covered with black latex and white laces, ending in baby blue gloves and heels respectively. Overall, she looked like someone who never strayed from the first draft of their costume design. “I know stallions take a while to get ready, but I thought you’d be a bit more professional,” she mocked. “I didn’t know you were in such a rush to get your a-er-Butt kicked,” I retorted. I had to be very careful to not say the word “Ass” since, apparently, Donkeys were also sentient humanoid creatures in this world. While no one really raised an eyebrow at the racist remark, I still felt uncomfortable using it in a degrading way. “Big talk for a pony who doesn’t have a leg to stand on,” High Heel quipped. The first of many terrible puns. “Cute. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” I offered. “Nothing fun is ever easy.” Unlike my original counterpart, I never enjoyed attacking from a distance. I preferred to use my hands, throwing punches and feeling my fists ram against flesh as I threw punch after punch. There weren’t any magnetic costume pieces on her, and the sack in her hands was only filled with hard cold cash, no bars of gold or even a coin I could manipulate. So, in what was possibly one of my worst decisions, I attempted to throw a punch at the mare. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you!” The second shield dropped before I could even touch it, and her fist struck me in the center of my chest. A flurry of motion followed after that as I felt blow after blow strike my torso until she finally punched me in my throat. Chocking on the lack of air, I was unprepared for her horn to suddenly ignite and I was shot in the face with a blinding light. I was clearly outmatched in hand to hand. Why an actress from the sixties would ever need to learn karate is beyond me, but that’s besides the point. “Do you really want to go, toe-to-toe with me?” She teased as her magic wrapped around my legs and threw me through the nearby window of an empty. “Once I beat you, I’ll be a shoe in for the Council of Chaos,” she gloated. I dodged a blast of energy that ripped through the air, using the metal cabinet nearby as a shield while I grabbed anything else that was made of metal in the office. A typewriter, an ash tray, and several other metal decorations and appliances flew to my side as I began throwing them at the mare, who had raised both layers of her shield once more to protect herself. As the metal nuisances distracted her above, I flew down to the street and lifted a Marehole cover to bash it into her heels. The heavy metal disk tore through her right heel, sapping in like a twig as she precariously balanced on the other heel. She blindly swung her leg around before the heel regenerated and shot into the ground next to me, narrowly missing my side as it sunk into the asphalt under my feet. The other heel quickly flew forward to kick me down the street like a can, knocking me off my feet as I flew back into the front widow of a police cruiser. Hissing in pain, I gingerly lifted myself from the car’s hood, lightly touching one of the shards of glass that lodged themselves into my back. I shouted an obscenity as I nudged the glass, feeling it dig into my skin as my fingers brushed against it. Pushing past the pain that gnawed away at my spine, I lifted the police car above me and used it as a club to bash through both her heels at the same time, breaking the thin pair of blue pillars easily as a scream cut through the air. High Heel began free-falling, plummeting to the earth as I raced up to catch her. After accidentally overshooting the mare, I quickly turned back to fly after her before her heels extended again and started flailing about wildly, managing to strike me in the head and knocking me away as she rocketed to the pavement. With death approaching just seconds away, she teleported at the last moment and reappeared below me, safety landing on her feet as she shot off another terrible pun. “I’m always a step ahead, Magneto!” Regaining some semblance of clarity, I leveled myself out for only a moment before a long heel rammed into my abdomen, knocking the wind out of me as she rose back to the sky. “Is this the best the Harmony League has to offer? I had more trouble at boot camp than I’m having with you. Why, this is a walk in the park for me.” A sudden kick to my ribs threw me back to the ground, crashing through a random window and into someone’s shop. Before I could pull myself back up, a rose-colored aura surrounded me and violently pulled me out of the apartment and brought me face to face with High Heel once more. “Your de-feet will be sole crushing.” I suddenly became very familiar with pavement as I was tossed back down and crashed into a police car. A muffled voice shouted something near my ears, and death’s doorstep suddenly grew farther away as a teal aura washed over me. The blissful feeling of a gentle winter night kissing my skin was soon replaced by indescribable agony as bones mended back into place and skin regrew to cover my new and reopened scars. I opened my mouth to scream, to cry out in horrible pain, but a piece of leather was forcefully shoved into my mouth, cutting off my cries as fresh tears rolled down my eyes. As I would find out later, police in this world were trained to provide support to heroes on the field, usually giving cover fire or acting as healers whenever a hero withdrew for a moment. Healing magic however, was a horrible method to heal wounds. It was meat for quick fixes and a boost of adrenaline to win a fight, it didn’t hold your hand or comfort you in any way. Finally spitting out the strap of leather, I gasped for breath as the unicorn officer healing me backed away. A firm hand planted on my shoulder tore me away from whatever small comfort my ragged breathing could supply as the head officer began yelling at me to go back and fight. While the officers had been healing me, several pegasi were acting as a distraction to hold off High Heel. It was oddly funny that the police were actually useful in a world full of superheroes, something I couldn’t find amusing back then considering that I was coughing up a fair amount of blood. I was too far in shock to even question the officer’s demand, and simply flew off to follow her order. Rocketing through the air like a missile, I slammed into High Heel’s shield, acting off of my animalistic instincts as I repeatedly struck her shield with my fists. The adrenaline coursing through my veins didn’t allow me a moment of concise thought as I reached down with my magic and pulled up a random car to smash into her shield, one that was thankfully empty. I attacked the amalgamation of the Scarlet Witch and Stilt-man, turning the car to scrap as I repeatedly threw it against her shield. Glass, rubber, and whatever else that wasn’t metal rained down onto the streets as each thread of metal was slammed against her shield until she finally lowered it and teleported away. High off of my own adrenaline, I raced after her and grabbed onto one of her extended heels, lifting it and her leg above her head until she lost her balance. Her teleportation spell ended up dragging me along with her, brining both of us the ground as I pulled one the end of her heel before it retracted. A shrill shriek of pain rang out in the air as I looked back at the villainous mare. She openly sobbed as she held the limp limb, clutching her dislocated leg while officers raced over to both heal and arrest her. A nullstone ring was slipped onto her horn as her screams grew louder, feeling new waves of pain roll over her thanks to the officer’s healing spell. Feeling my heart rate slow down, I looked at the small amount of damage we caused to the city. My blood painted one of the police cars, and a trail of my blood took me on a tour of my fight with her. My attention was drawn back to High Heel as she hobbled on her heeled leg, stifling a sob as the police escorted her into the back of a car after taking off her high heels. Just like the forgotten actress, I was struggling to hold onto what little recognition I had after fighting the Power Ponies. And thanks to her, I had to admit something that I liked to lie to myself about. My first victory against the Power Ponies was a fluke, a chance of luck because three ponies inexperienced with their power set used them like toys. Even after four months of training and preparing, I was barely ready to tackle the threats that plagued Trot City. On a lighter note, I at least learned a few things from my fight with High Heel, and I was going to learn a lot more in the days that followed my tussle with the shoe themed villain.