Chapter 27-
Reboot
Wheels rattled as footsteps thundered beside them. The sounds were muffled behind the closed doors leading to the medical bay, though those closest perked their ears as the sounds drew closer. Alongside the sound of loud voices.
The doors slammed open, Apple Bloom, Sunset Shimmer, Scootaloo, and Chris all working to push the stretcher upon which laid their creation, covered in a thick tarp that flapped in the breeze that they generated. “I need operating room one ready NOW!” Bloom shouted, throwing her med bay back into action where it had quieted down. “You!” She yelled and pointed, stopping a powder blue nurse mare in her tracks, the earth pony’s seafoam eyes wide in fear. “Find Redheart, Horse, and Roseclaw and get them down here now!”
The mare, Nurse River Breeze, nodded and shot off like a rocket to fulfill the task she’d been given. “Scootaloo.” The orange pegasus looked to the side to Chris, who kept his eyes straight ahead. “I need you to get ahold of somebody. I don’t care how you do it, but do it quick.” He paused only long enough to catch her nod. “Contact Zecora. We’ll need all hands on deck, and she trained the best doctors we’ve got.”
“Roger that,” Scootaloo answered, flaring her wings to stop her momentum before turning tail and running back towards the doors they’d entered from as she lifted her communicator. “Get me an overseas line to the outpost in Zebrica and connect me to Zecora ASAP!”
The others continued without the pegasus, rushing through the hall in record time as Bloom gave one more call, this time over her communicator. “Fauna, I need you, Cureall, and your nurses to get Sweetie Belle to O.R. one in her stasis pod, and we need it done in a hurry!”
“On our way,” came the response. “Let’s go, girls!”
It went without saying that the group stirred up quite a bit of curiosity, especially from those that had been woken from their slumber as they raced by. Flurry Heart was one of these, yawning and blinking as she lifted her head from her mother’s shoulder. “What’s the noise?” She asked, rubbing her eyes as she looked to where Chris and the others raced by.
“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Cadance replied, gently brushing a hand over her daughter’s mane. “Just Chris going to do what he does best.”
The young alicorn yawned again, eyes still on the man. “He’s helping somebody,” she murmured before laying her head back down. “He does that good.” The princess blinked down at her daughter, surprised by her understanding. A slight chuckle drew her attention to her husband, a good portion of his face and torso covered in bandages. He was smiling up at his daughter, a glance shooting for a moment to his wife and giving her a knowing wink. Cadance remained silent for a moment before she gave a little sigh and let her own smile ignite.
Meanwhile, a pink pegasus grumbled further down the hall as Chris and his team ran by. “Nn, was that Chris?” Firefly questioned groggily, pushing herself further up on her pillows only to wince as said pillows made contact with the stump that used to connect to her wing.
“Yeah, it was,” Cobalt Steel answered, leaning over to fix the pillows so they wouldn’t bother the mare’s back. “Looks like he actually did figure out a hair-brained fix.”
The pegasus looked confused for a moment. “A fix for what?” She asked, looking up to the dark stallion, giving him pause.
“That’s right,” he muttered quietly, sinking back into his seat, eyes not meeting hers. “You haven’t heard….”
“Haven’t heard what, Co,” Firefly questioned, eyes on the thestral as her ear gave an irritable tick.
Cobalt Steel seemed to hesitate for a moment before he gave a heavy sigh. “Sweetie Belle…” he started only to stop short for a second. “...Sweetie got really hurt trying to help Chris. The doctors didn’t think she was going to make it. They only gave her about half an hour to live.”
A gasp shot escaped the mare, her hands shooting up to her muzzle as tears immediately started to form in her eyes. “You mean Sweetie’s…?”
“No,” the stallion replied with a shake of his head. “That was close to three hours ago. Last I heard from anyone, Chris had some sort of plan to keep her alive.”
The blue-maned pegasus was quiet for a moment as she allowed her brain the time to catch up. “So… you think he actually found a way to cheat death?”
The stallion looked up at her at that, his yellow gaze meeting her deep purple. He thought about her words for a second, pondering the exact meaning of them before he answered. “...Well,” he began, reaching out and putting a hand to hers with a pang in his heart. “He did give me a magic bean that healed all of your wounds.”
The pink mare looked at him for a moment before her eyes hardened a bit, and she nodded firmly. She turned her gaze from the stallion, his shoulders slumping as his gaze went to the floor in shame. Her’s, however, stayed glued to the backs of the three rushing beings as they crashed through the next set of doors on their way to the O.R.
“Shit!” Sam shouted, barely managing to catch the tip of the lance that had been shoved at his face with the staff of his naginata. He grit his teeth as he put his other hand to the weapon, pushing back against the dark figure before him. They’d been more than surprised when the evil part of Psycho, which he’d dubbed Nega-Psycho, had manifested the moment they stepped foot in Harmony’s world and attacked them. Of course, Psycho had been more than ready for the onslaught, summoning his lance and blocking his other half’s own. Samson, however, had not been so lucky, taking the full brunt of a boot to his ribs before he could react.
His side still ached as he snarled and brought his face eye to eye with the red visor of Nega-Psycho’s helmet. The Ranger’s colors were inverted to Psycho’s, its under armor a dark blue, gauntlets, and shin guards all appearing pitch black while its armor and helmet were a dull white as if the color had been drained out. “Someone going to do something!?”
“On your left!” The young man dodged out of the way, jumping and rolling to his right as Psycho jumped past him, slamming a spinning heel into his clone’s head. The dark Ranger stumbled back with a surprised grunt, a growl ripping from its throat as it tilted its head back forward. A crack in its visor spilled dark vapor, showing off the wound only briefly before it was sealed shut once more.
“Of all the powers!” Sam started to shout, now on his feet as Psycho landed next to him. “He just had to have regeneration!”
“It is unfortunate,” Psycho replied, readying his lance for another pass. “I may have miscalculated his abilities-” He was stopped short as they were both forced to dodge to either side of a blast wave of dark energy.
Nega-Psycho growled as it yanked its weapon out of the ground, only to be blown forward into a roll as its shoulder exploded on impact with a bolt of white and lavender magic. “Keep your focus, you two,” Harmony chastised, her golden armor shining as she withdrew her smoking scepter.
“Noted,” Samson muttered as he landed at her side, Psycho stopping on her other. “Anyone got a plan.”
“Not a good one,” Psycho answered, tensing up as his counterpart stood to its feet and turned to face them.
“Better than nothing,” Harmony huffed, her empty hand stretching in out in front of her as a lavender wall appeared in front of her. “What do you have in mind.”
“Build up your biggest attack,” the lighter Ranger answered, visor glued to his opponent. “Samson and I will rush him and keep him busy until you can blow him to bits.”
“Well, I’ve got one spell that should do it,” Harmony muttered, grimacing as the ranger started to stalk towards them, lance dragging the ground. “There’s just one downside.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m sure it’s not too bad-”
“You’ll have to distract him for five minutes.” The young man stopped and turned his hazel eyes to the ancient unicorn in disbelief. “And considering he beat you two to a pulp in under one it- ah, never mind, I’m sure you can handle it.”
Samson continued to stare at her for a moment before sighing and looking at his enemy with a frown. “I swear you are sentient beyond the fourth wall,” he muttered before he tensed up and lunged forward, missing the little smirk the goddess flashed. He and Psycho raced ahead, each one of them drawing their weapons back to strike.
Nega-Psycho met them head-on with a snarl, another lancehead materializing at the end of its weapon as it spun the polearm with enough expertise to block both attacks. Sam tried to get around the dark specter, slashing with the blade of his naginata in every possible direction as quickly as he could. Meanwhile, Psycho planted himself and began using a combination of thrusts and slashes to try and keep the evil side’s attention. The dark Ranger wouldn’t have any of it, though, spinning its staff and body with all the precision of a master, making the two look like absolute fools.
Samson growled as blow after blow was blocked, parried, or dodged, his frustration becoming more apparent. “Would. You. Just. Go down!” He pulled one hand back, hazel eyes burning as lightning and flame lit up in his now empty hand. He slashed with his blade, the glint of the blade alerting Nega-Psycho, who spun and caught the blow only to find the explosive combination of magic thrust into its face. It yanked its head out of the way, revealing Psycho on the other side. The man’s eyes widened as his jab continued forward, slamming into the lighter counterpart’s shoulder and exploding with the force of several sticks of TNT.
“AAAAGH!” Psycho wailed out as several pieces of his armor flew in the opposite direction of his body, the force of the strike throwing him several yards away. He slammed into the ground, rolling away several more feet before coming to a stop with a groan.
“Psycho!” Sam rushed over to his fallen comrade, sinking to his knee as the Ranger pushed himself up on his hands. “Are you okay?”
“Asides from the compromise to the structural integrity to my body?” He replied with a grunt, a hand coming to his still smoking shoulder. “Peachy.”
The young man grimaced at that. He reached out to help the light half to his feet only to have his attention drawn away by a low, throaty growl. He turned his gaze to Nega-Psycho, watching as the dark Ranger stood to its feet. Another growl echoed from the being as it reached a hand up, Samson’s eyes widening as the appendage landed on a smoking and burnt shoulder, the armor jagged and broken. The redhead stared for a moment before his eyes sank, shifting and searching the floor as he went through thought after thought. Eventually, he turned his gaze on Psycho, the counterpart still trying to shake off the blow.
His thoughts still brewing, he turned to face the Ranger, watching for several moments. Finally, he reared his arm back and punched the side of his ally’s head with everything he had. Psycho’s head shot back to the ground, helmet cracking against the reflective surface.
“OW!” He shouted, almost immediately coming back up and grabbing the young man by the front of his jacket. “WHAT ARE YOU THINKING!?”
Samson didn’t answer. He simply nodded his head towards Nega-Psycho. Psycho snarled before looking towards his dark twin, body recoiling in surprise as he watched the shadow being stumble, holding the side of its head as vapor poured from the renewed crack in its red visor.
“...Well now,” the lighter Ranger murmured, releasing Sam as they both stood to their feet. “That is interesting.”
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Sam asked without looking to his partner, resummoning his naginata.
“I believe I am,” Psycho answered, hand reaching out as his lance flew back into it.
The man rolled his neck and shoulders, hardening his features once more. “Then let’s do this.” Together, the pair rushed towards their enemy, weapons reared back with malicious intent.
Creatures of all shapes and sizes rushed around the strategically lit room, each with their own task to complete. In the middle of this storm of bodies stood Chris, his eyes locked on a small, hurriedly made laptop that flashed with line after line of code. Beside him lay the puppet, still covered by a sheet while a cable ran from it to the computer.
The man frowned as he went through the machine’s diagnostics, checking every single program, routine, and sub-routine he’d painstakingly programmed into the robot. He let out a heavy breath as he finished, his fingers tapping away on the unmarked keys as he began the startup sequence. Any second now, they wouldn’t have any chance to stop.
“Chris.” The blond looked up from his work, turning to find Zecora walking into the room, the zebra looking odd wearing scrubs instead of her usual attire. “While I am not complaining, I am not sure why you would call me here for this.”
“I need all hands on deck,” the man replied without skipping a beat, the mare raising an eyebrow at the dark bags under his eyes. “We cannot mess this up. Not with Sweetie’s life on the line.”
The Councillor continued to stare at him for a few minutes, her eyebrow still raised. “...How much sleep have you been getting?” She asked, concern in her voice.
“Two to three hours for every twenty-four for two to three weeks.” Zecora blanched at that, eyes wide.
“That is not enough sleep!” The mare rhymed worriedly, taking a step towards him. “You’ve gotten yourself in too deep.”
“We don’t have time to worry about that,” Chris interrupted, waving her off as he turned back to his computer screen. “After we save Sweetie Belle, I can rest, but not a second before.”
The shaman frowned at him and made to argue only for the double doors to burst open behind her, two nurses holding the doors open. “Patient incoming,” one called, everyone pausing a moment before getting in position.
“Alright, everybody, showtime,” Chris announced, pushing the small cart that held his laptop so that it was behind the puppet’s head.
“Everybody, listen up!” Bloom called, coming around his side to stand between the automaton and the pod that was rolled into the room. “We’re going to drain the stasis pod and open it up. Once that happens, we will be on a time limit, so we have to move quickly. We hook the patient up, step back, and follow Councillor Scott’s instructions to the letter! Understood?”
“Yes, Doctor!”
“Good!” The redhead let out a little huff and let her shoulders slump slightly. “Let’s do this.” She rolled her shoulders and straightened up, steeling her features. She stepped up next to the vat, looking down to find her friend’s peaceful face floating amongst the liquid that was the only thing keeping her alive. She took a deep breath and put a hand to one of three levers on the left side of the tank, two more practitioners taking their place on either side of her and taking the other levers in their hands. Three others mirrored them on the other side while one last doctor took his place at the head of the capsule.
She looked around at each of them, then the room at large, her focus momentarily lost as worry settled back in. A lump formed in her throat as she caught sight of Chris, his fist clenched over his heart as he stared with moist eyes into the chamber that contained his love. A gentle hand touched down on her shoulder, and she looked back to find the hard, kind eyes of her teacher.
“Remember what I taught you,” the zebra whispered, one of the rare occasions she fell out of her rhyme.
The mare nodded her head and turned back, taking a deep breath to steady her heart. “On three,” she said, herself and the others tensing up. “One. Two. Three!” As one unit, the doctors and nurses turned the levers down, a hiss escaping the tank as air rushed back in. Three valves opened in the bottom of the capsule, greenish-yellow liquid pouring out onto the floor, swirling around at their feet for a moment before starting to wash down a large drain. Sweetie’s limp form lowered as the liquid rushed out, leaving her laying the pads in the back of the tank, her suspension in time now over.
“Lift!” Bloom barked, the seven creatures all hefting at the same time. The lid came off with another hiss, the team moving it off to the side and onto another stretcher.
“Hook her up!” Dr.Cureall ordered, her team of nurses jumping forward and beginning to attach the mare to various machines that would monitor her health and an IV. Screens blinked to life as each one was connected to her, showing low, barely visible vitals.
Bloom and the others set the lid down on another stretcher, stepping back as two more nurses rushed it out of the room as the yellow earth pony turned back to the room. “Sunset, are you ready?”
“Ready,” the alicorn answered, stepping forward as her hands and horn lit up in with her cyan aura. She placed her hands to either side of the unconscious unicorn’s head. Sunset tilted her head back and closed her eyes, her horn glowing brighter. Her aura began to spread over Sweetie’s head, soon coming to her broken horn. Upon meeting the jagged spur, sap green aura seeped out, swirling around and mixing with the alicorn’s magic before spreading to the rest of the off-white mare’s body.
A few seconds ticked by as Sunset’s features hardened in focus. “...Clear,” she announced, Chris and Bloom both letting out tense breaths.
“Okay,” Apple Bloom murmured, her heart racing before she turned to face the gray-eyed man. “Chris, are you ready?”
“Very,” he muttered in response, coming out from behind his computer to the puppet’s side. He took the top corners of the sheet in his hands and folded it down. What was revealed looked like a completely normal, bald pony head, complete with short off-white fur. However, if one were to look closely enough, they would see dark lines running up the automaton’s cheeks, over its closed eyes, and up and over its maneless head. Similar lines ran up the spiral of the horn, these lines a dark green compared to the black on its face. The same dark patches seemed to appear in the middle of the machine’s throat and the inside of its ears, giving it a look that just wasn’t entirely natural.
The young man frowned as he saw them, shaking his head as he went back to the head of the stretcher. “I wished we’d had time to make the coat a little thicker,” he murmured to himself as he bent down and grabbed a meticulously rolled bundle of sensors and wire.
“Eyes on target, Chris,” Bloom replied, her eyes on her own worries as she double-checked their patient’s IV and oxygen tube.
The man “mmm’d” in response as he stood, taking the end of a cable and jacking it into a port at the base of the puppet’s neck, gently laying the head back down as he moved over to Sweetie Belle. He stared down at her for several moments, a lump catching in his throat as he looked down at her battered and beaten form. “...I’m sorry,” he murmured before wiping away a tear and starting to lay out the network of cable over her body.
The network ran over her form in an easily recognizable highway leading to some of the most prominent points in her body. Nodes sat at these important cross-sections, starting at the base of her horn, running down to above and below her eyes, trailing and connecting at the top of her sternum. Next, the cable split into five paths, two nodes stopping on her breasts, over her lungs, two more running out to her shoulders, running down her arms to her just above her elbows, and finally ending at the center of her hands. The last length ran down the center of her chest, two paths diverging at the end of her ribs to end in more sensors, the middle path continuing to a large circle that sat around her naval, a node at each corner of the ring. From there, the network continued down her legs, sensors in the middle of her thighs, below her knees, and finally coming to an end at the centers of her feet.
“Help me get these stuck on,” the man said, starting to peel a bit of film off the bottom of the first node at the base of her horn. Bloom nodded her head and made her way to the other side of the open pod. Together it took no more than a handful of seconds to get the network adequately connected. The pair stepped back when they finished, staring at their work before looking up at each other. Finally, they nodded, and Chris went back around to his computer.
He hesitated a moment, his fingers on the keys but applying no pressure. He pursed his lips, staring at the black screen, a little green square blinking at him. Then, quietly, he looked up at the doctors and nurses gathered around him, each of them waiting with bated breath. “...Say a little prayer,” he said quietly before he looked down and entered a simple command; Begin Transfer.
“RAAAH!” Samson swung down with his naginata, the pole slamming down into his opponent’s. The man lifted his weapon and swung again without pausing, the horizontal slash sparking off another block. Sam continued his relentless assault, pushing Nega-Psycho further and further back as he spun, twisted, and stepped in his deadly dance.
One blow was too many, though. He made another overhead slash, the dark Ranger seeing the blow coming from a mile away. It spun its dual-ended lance in a circle, parrying the blade back into the air. The man’s defenses opened up, the evil avatar quickly turning its lance.
Sam’s eyes widened in surprise for a moment before he felt a hand on his shoulder. The young warrior smirked as he was shoved backward, Psycho jumping in front of him. The lance scored a devastating hit on the paler counterpart, a pained grunt escaping him as sparks exploded from his chest.
Good and evil both lurched back, twin gashes appearing in their chests as they stumbled. Samson caught his partner by the shoulders, holding him up as he kept his hazel eyes on their opponent as it hit its knee. The man analyzed their opponent, eyes lingering on the damage they’d managed to inflict. Missing leg armor, multiple open wounds on the right arm, glass flaking out of the broken visor, missing shoulder armor, the fresh gash in its chest seeming to lead to where part of the belt was cracked and chipped.
They’d put in work, causing injury after smoking injury to the phantom. However, these small victories hadn’t come without cost. The redhead glanced at Psycho, heavy breathing coming from the battered Ranger, a large patch of missing armor leaking colorless vapor from his back, the result of one of Nega-Psycho’s more vicious thrusts. The pale ghost was having a harder time catching his breath, each new wound causing him to wait longer and longer between countering his other half’s attacks.
“How you holding up?” Samson questioned, the Ranger glancing up at him with his own broken visor.
“Not well,” Psycho answered, turning his gaze back on their enemy. “I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to keep this up. I may have reached my limits already, another miscalculation on my part.”
Sam winced at that, glancing back towards Harmony, now a speck in the distance. Had they really been pushed this far away? He looked back to their dark opponent, watching as it began to push itself back up, not looking much worse for wear despite all of the black smoke ejecting from its body. The man narrowed his eyes. “You think you got one more in you?”
Psycho glanced at him one more time before looking back towards their opponent. He took in a deep breath, shuddering a moment before straightening up and squaring his shoulders. “If not, I’ll push on anyway,” he replied, picking the head of his lance up from the ground.
Sam gave a slight nod at that, turning to face Nega-Psycho. The young man snarled. “You’re going down,” he growled before he charged back in, green aura pouring out around him. He cleared the distance between them in no time, his naginata swinging for the fences as it slammed into the dark Ranger’s staff. Its boots slid across the ground for several feet before grinding to a halt.
The was no pause as Samson took his blade and spun it again, slamming it once, twice, three times more into Nega-Psycho’s defenses. The man pulled back only long enough to roll his body back before swinging up with his polearm, catching his adversary by surprise. The blade caught hold and bit into the Ranger, slashing upward viciously and throwing the dark specter into the air. Sam jumped after him, flipping as his aura collected in his foot. He swung his leg out, locking glowing eyes with the red visor as he snarled. He slammed the ax kick down with all the force he could muster, a warcry ripping from his lungs as he connected.
The counterpart slammed into the ground with a crash, with reflective surface cracking and caving in under the pressure. Samson landed with a soft tap on the other side of the crater, roaring as he took his weapon in both hands, turning as he brought both arms over his head. With a mighty cry, he swung the weapon down, the blade slicing through the air. The downed Ranger brought its weapon up, holding it out from its chest to stop the attack. What it didn’t realize was just how cracked the weapon was now, how fragile it had become. With a sound not unlike shattering glass, the staff shattered on impact. The blade continued, cleaving into Nega-Psycho’s compromised chest.
Sam felt the blade click against the ground underneath his opponent. He dug the blade in deeper with a low growl, sinking the steel down to the base. Nega-Psycho jerked as he did so, the Ranger reaching up to grab the staff of the weapon, trying to pull the blade out of its chest. The man above him only snarled in response, sliding one hand up the handle before hefting with all his strength. Nega-Psycho was dragged into the air, impaled on its opponent’s polearm. It struggled a few moments more before it went limp.
The young man stared at the motionless form for several moments, his chest heaving as he panted. It was over. They’d done it-
Dark hands shot out, grabbing the staff as the red visor looked up, gleaming dangerously down at the man. With a feral growl, it pulled, sinking the naginata deeper into itself, the pole entering its wound. Sam’s eyes widened in horror, his heart skipping a beat as he watched in horror as the wraith crawled towards him. Before he could react, Nega-Psycho was on him, rearing a fist back as dark energy erupted around it and slamming it into The warrior’s face.
Samson was thrown back, clearing several yards before his back slammed into the ground, knocking the breath from his lungs. He rolled to a stop, lungs burning as he struggled to breathe. He pushed himself up on one hand, gasping as he looked back towards his opponent.
Nega-Psycho growled ferally as it stalked towards him, using one arm to snap the handle of his naginata and using the other to pull it out of its back. The two pieces of the weapon clattered to the ground as the wound began to seal itself shut. Pure dread filled Samson’s entire form, his limbs not following his commands to get up and fight back. His head swam as he tried to get up, only managing to turn himself over on his backside. He tried to crawl backward as the dark juggernaut stomped towards him, its hand forming into a claw as more dark aura began to build and pour out around it.
It reared back as it stood over the young man, letting out a demonic roar as it drove its claw down. Sam closed his eyes but felt no pain as a crushing sound filled the air. He opened his eyes to find the dark hand stopped a few inches from his face. He looked past the limb to see Psycho standing above him, the hand protruding from his back.
Psycho wheezed as he held onto his counterpart’s shoulders, a painful hiss emanating from the specter as the rest of its wound failed to regenerate. The pale Ranger jerked forward, drawing closer to his evil half’s face. “This time,” he grunted in pain, reaffirming his grip on the other Ranger’s shoulders. “Let’s make it permanent. NOW!!!”
Samson didn’t have time to blink as a flash went off next to him, Harmony leveling her scepter at the entangled Rangers. The mare steeled her gaze as a purple spell circle appeared at the tip of her scepter, five more rings appearing behind her back, each one further from her body and bigger than the last, the final circle taking up much of the sky.
The man’s eyes widened as he watched the biggest circle turn into a vortex, swirling around like the beginnings of a tornado. He looked back to the Rangers to see Psycho looking back at him. “See you on the other side, Samson,” the ghost murmured before looking back at his darker half.
Sam’s eyes widened in realization. “NO!” He shouted, trying to leap forward. But it was far too late. He was thrown backward as the vortex launched a beam down, each circle turning into its own disk of magic. The beam funneled into Harmony, her eyes glowing white before the ring at the end of her scepter shone like the sun. The blast wave threw Samson away like a doll, the beam of pure energy completely engulfing both Psychos.
Everyone in the operating room stood back a little, most of them gathered behind Chris and his computer. Few, if any, of them actually knew what the lines of code that appeared on the screen meant, but most of them figured that the young man not freaking out at the green text was a good thing. Apple Bloom stood at his side, watching the lines of code almost as diligently as he was, casting a glance over her friend’s body now and again. The highway of cable and nodes glowed with soft green light, the unicorn’s aura still shifting over her body as Sunset continued to monitor her magical vitality while the machines beside the alicorn kept up with her biological vitals.
As the minutes passed, everyone held their breath, with seemingly no change in either the unicorn or the puppet, the tension in the air palpable. The only one that didn’t seem to notice it was Chris himself. His focus was entirely on the screen in front of him, every single line telling him something new. Some updated him on the data flow between the puppet and Sweetie Belle, some helped him keep tabs on the machine’s systems, and yet others monitored progress. The transfer was a little over seventy percent complete, and, asides from a little snag at the beginning of the process, which he had quickly corrected, everything had gone without a hitch. It wouldn’t even be another fifteen minutes, and the process would be complete.
Line after line continued to appear, Chris’ vision a mass of green numbers, letters, and symbols. Green. Green. Green. Green. Green. Not Green. Green. Green. Green.
“Wait.” The man jerked a little as Bloom spoke up next to him. “What’s that?”
The young man refocused his vision on a line of code that the mare pointed to. Everything seemed fine with it until he got to the final word. A barely noticeable, yellow-green error message at the end of the line of code that was monitoring the upload of the brain to CPU. His heart froze. “Shit,” he gasped, his hands jumping from the edge of the table to the keyboard. Before his hands could even touch the keys, the screen all but lit up in red messages, an alarm blaring alongside it. The frantic sound of clicking keys joined the siren in the next instant, and not long after, the thrashing of Sweetie’s body jumped into the racket.
“Bloom!” Sunset gasped, jumping away as there was a hiss, Sweetie’s aura starting to flare and spit chaotically, the unicorn’s head tilting back as her eyelids opened to show her eyes rolling up into the back of her head.
“Anti-magic gloves!” Apple Bloom shouted, rushing over to her friend and throwing her body over her to keep her still. The doctor grit her teeth as hisses sounded out, smoke rising from her flesh, fur, and scrubs.
“Get the straps!” Zecora ordered, rushing over and holding the mare’s legs with her own wince.
Practitioners rushed about seemingly sporadically, grabbing the large, forearm-covering gloves and throwing them on before the team swiped up leather bindings and ran to the still thrashing unicorn. Quickly, they got the straps around the pod and bound the unicorn down, limiting her movement while allowing Bloom and Zecora to move back, minor burns on the hands, arms, necks, and torsos.
With the threat of the mare hurting herself remedied for the moment, Apple Bloom rushed over to Chris’ side, Sunset already on his other side as he typed as fast as his fingers could. “What the hell!?”
“I don’t know!” The man yelled back over the sound of every blaring device in the room. “Everything was fine! It was going perfectly, and I don’t know what happened!” Sweat began to appear on his brow as panic started to set in fully. “I’m in the program and trying to fix it on the fly, but I can’t find the issue! The only explanation I can think of is that this piece of shit computer shit itself and deleted some of the program! I KNEW this fucking thing wouldn’t survive! Why the FUCK did I think this would work!?” He slammed his fingers around the keys, randomly to the two mares but with complete purpose to him. He found the sub-routine he was looking for and, as he suspected, found that junks of the monitoring protocols were missing. “FUCK!”
He tapped faster, all the while Sweetie continued to thrash. Cureall watched all of this from the other side of the room, fear filling her chest as she watched their patient spasm and jerk, the one in charge devolve into hysterics and the others do absolutely nothing at all. A single thought crossed her frantic mind, and she grabbed hold of it like she was drowning. The vet-turned-doctor rushed across the room, all but slamming into the medicine cabinet. Throwing the door open, she began quickly sifting through bottles, checking each label as she went.
“Yes!” She hissed, snatching up the vial she’d been looking for and quickly yanking one of the drawers open to pull out a syringe. She turned and quickly made her way over to the IV drip. As she lifted the vial to eye level and brought up the needle, someone caught her arm.
“What are you doing!?” Redheart questioned frantically, eyes wide as she stared at the doctor.
“Administering a hundred milliliters of phenobarbital to the patient,” the cerulean maned mare answered, taking her arm back with a jerk and refocusing on the vial and needle as she began to draw in the liquid drug. “This should sedate the patient and stop her seizing, which will pull her out of physical harm, thereby making Scott’s job easier when he doesn’t have to worry about her possibly spasming to death.” She paused and looked back at the nurse. “Any more questions?”
“U-um, no-”
“Then shut up and stand back,” Mane Cureall barked curtly as she turned to the patient. She paused long enough to grind her teeth and take a breath before stepping closer to Sweetie Belle. The moment she got less than a foot away, the unicorn’s aura began to strike out, the green magic striking the earth pony like hornet stings. Cureall hissed in pain but pushed on, taking the IV tube in her hand. She lifted it and moved forward a bit more, grinding her teeth as more of the sporadic aura zapped her painfully. Sliding her hand along the tubing, she found the port, expertly maneuvering it and inserting the needle into it before injecting the barbiturate.
As soon as the syringe emptied, the doctor jumped away, her face snarled up in pain. Her clothes sizzled and smoked, a cut in her cheek letting out a drop of blood. Several footfalls ran to her, but a quick hand into the air stopped her rushing colleagues in their tracks. “I’m fine,” she breathed, getting to her feet as her eyes stayed on their patient, the seconds ticked by unabated. After close to thirty seconds, the spasming mare’s violent jerks began to slow and calm until Sweetie Belle finally laid still, her vitals returning to normal alongside her aura as the machines beside her stopped blaring their alarms.
The dark yellow mare let out a breath of relief, her shoulders falling even as Chris’ laptop continued to scream. A hand on her shoulder made her look up to find Zecora’s smiling face. “You have done well,” she congratulated with a nod. “Let’s get you looked at while the others save miss Sweetie Belle.” Cureall nodded numbly, feeling her energy drain as she was led away by two other practitioners, Zecora following behind them. The shaman threw a frown over her shoulder as she went, sad eyes looking to the trio that stood behind their creation, desperate looks in their eyes.
Chris didn’t even hear the door open and close as he clenched his teeth, ignoring the aching in his jaws as he frantically typed out commands. Putting the code back together piece by piece was proving difficult, especially when the computer was constantly erasing more code as he went. “Damn it,” he cursed again, feeling his Yellow Static begin to fade out. His lack of sleep and practice over the past few weeks had left him physically, mentally, and magically weakened, and it was starting to show. The speed boost of his lightning element had only just allowed him to stay ahead, but now, with it fading away alongside his compromised stamina, he was slowly losing ground.
“No, no, no, no!” He growled, focusing what was left of his Static into his hands. “Not like this! Please! Not like this!” He continued to growl as his static continued to fade and grow slow. His eyes widened, and his frown loosened his jaws as the last of his powers’ light began to fade.
...This is it… He thought, his world starting to fade out with the last of his light. I’m going to lose her. After everything…. She’s going to die here… and there’s nothing I can do. And… it’s all my faul-
“Chris!” The young man blinked as someone shouted over the sound of his computer, letting out a breath as something slammed into him. He blinked to find an avatar of his brother flash before disappearing, the dark orb floating back into view in front of him. “Sorry it took so long.”
Chris let out a breath and relaxed slightly, a hint of a smile appearing. “I’m just glad you showed up when you did,” he replied, looking to the computer screen where error messages were starting to pile up. “Something went wrong in the code, and I can’t keep up with the repairs. I could use all the help I can get.” He turned to the orb and his brows furrowed. “Where’s Psycho?”
Sam fell silent at that, the mood seeming to shift quickly. “He, um…” the brother began to mutter, turning to look back towards the door. Several seconds passed before a new orb, dark blue in color with purple and silver energy crackling around it, floated in, much slower than Samson had.
“Sorry about the wait,” Psycho apologized, flying over to them. “Not used to maneuvering this much mass.”
Chris simply let out a relieved sigh. “Just glad to see you guys in one piece,” he answered before the alarm on his computer went up another octave. “Shit.” He turned back to his scraped-together computer and once again began furiously tapping away. “I could really use some Flash power right about now.”
A chuckle escaped Psycho. We can do you one better, Christian,” the spirit replied. Before the young man could fully process what he’d heard, the two orbs disappeared inside him. Instantly, he felt energized, his mind clear and body feeling as if he could run hundreds of marathons one after the other. He felt the power of the Psycho Morpher flow through him like a river of electricity before light blue, almost transparent Static encased his body.
“Holy sh-”
Don’t waste it, Chris! Sam interrupted, his voice plenty loud in his mind.
The young man only nodded before he went back to his work. His brow furrowed in focus as his hands flew over the keyboard, easily catching up to the red error messages. Green line, green line, green line, green line. One input after another, and in less than a minute, the blond had the entire program rewritten, every line of code immaculately put back together. Slowly, the alarm began to quiet until not a single tone escaped the hodge-podge laptop.
Soon, progress began once more on the transfer, allowing the young man to relax, panting as he gave a confident smile. “We did it,” he gasped, looking as the program continued running with even more efficiency than it had before. He looked to the side as a hand clapped him on the shoulder, Apple Bloom giving him a small smile.
”You okay?” She asked, searching his eyes.
He nodded in response, his breathing still a bit heavy. “Yeah, I’m good,” he replied, looking back to the screen. “Everything’s going to be okay.” Five minutes passed without so much as a single peep from any of the monitors in the room. It wasn’t until a little beep sounded out from the laptop that Chris focused back in. He brought his hands back up and read the final line of text, which only read “Transfer Complete.”
A little breath of laughter escaped him, and he began to type again with calm, purposeful movements. Finally, he started the finalization process, hitting the enter button and watching as the last set of code wrote itself out on the screen. The last line ended in a set of blinking ellipsis, four dots blinking into life one after another before starting over again. Everyone waited with bated breath as the process began to finish, and it finally did, the screen blinking clean before a green circle spiraled into life in the middle of the screen.
Chris tore his eyes away from the screen to the puppet that still laid on the table. Accent lines below the off-white fur along its face and body glowed with an archaic green, the chest rising and falling slightly, not nearly as much as an organic being’s, but still noticeable. Along the scalp of the android, pink and purple hairs were beginning to sprout and grow in. Upon closer inspection, movement could even be spotted beneath the eyelids, almost as if to simulate deep sleep.
The young man let out a sigh of relief. “It-it worked,” he breathed, slumping backward. “It actually worked….” Chris Scott fell backward, not a single creature in the room acting fast enough to catch the unconscious human before he hit the floor.
