//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: The Village Within Ponyville // Story: An Equestria Covered in Ice // by Solaris Vult //------------------------------// “Is everyone ready?” Basalt said, voice muffled somewhat by the respirator mask.     “I have everything I require,” Ethylene replied, sitting on the back of the seld with her pile of materials, salvaged from the mill’s many machines, as well as anything useful she found inside the medical kits.     “The RTG is tied down, should keep us all warm, even in the storm,” Petrochemical continued, just as she finished tying the last of the straps, made from yellow tubes of strange stretchy material, Ethyl had called them rubber fire-hoses and said that all buildings had at least one. “Ethyl, sure these masks will keep us from choking on the snow?”     “Positive, Petrochemical,” With that, Petro nodded and tied her respirator mask across her face before wrapping herself up with her wool coat and getting on the back of the sled.     “Alright, brace yourselves, because here we go!” Basalt said, although it sounded quite odd coming from within the mask. He gave the door a hardy buck, and it slammed into the snow outside, hinges broken. The blast of frigid and toxic air made Petrochem’s eyes sting. Basalt made one last check to make sure the harness, made of chains that once held one of those big casting ladles to the mill’s ceiling, was still tight around his back and chest after that buck, and pushed. The sled squealed, there was the sound of metal scraping against stone, at first it looked like Basalt may not have been strong enough to push it, but then they started to move forward, slowly at first but with more and more speed. Once they were off the concrete and on snow, there was a brief halt as the sled got stuck, but one strong push from Basalt and it was going again, faster than before. Soon, they were making a good trot through the storm. The wind whipped through their manes, snow, toxic to breathe, was gathering on their coats and the side of the RTG, which was giving off more than enough heat to cause it to melt and run across the sled, coating it and some of their cargo in ice which was somehow warmer than the air itself.     “Assuming we make it back home, we’ll be the first ponies to ever survive marching through a storm!” Petrochem said, astonished they were still alive. In the distance was a huge tower surrounded by blurry shadows, just barely visible through the storm, a huge shadow against the setting sun, which was just a blurry and small red spot of light in the air.     “Twilight’s Tower…” Ethyl muttered.     “What’s that?” Asked Petrochemical.     “The Tower of Princess Twilight, one of the largest buildings in Equestria…”     “Really? What’s inside?”     “You don’t know?”     “No, we’ve never been able to get inside, the doors are some of the toughest we’ve ever encountered, and the village chief says the place is cursed, a place of evil that no pony should dare go.”     “Twilight’s tower was a place of science, a grand laboratory, where the smartest creatures from across the world, not just ponies from Equestria, but all creatures, from all corners of the world, would come together to discover how the world works and how we can use it to improve the lives of all beings… They had dozens of floors dedicated to every branch of science there was. The building also served as a communication hub, as long as it stood, anyone from anywhere could talk to anyone else, wherever they may be. There were also five floors of nothing but rows upon rows of books, every book that has ever existed could be found inside. It was where I, or rather, my production model, was designed… It’s the place where all machine ponies such as myself were designed.”     “Amazing… D-Do you think you can get us inside?”     “Unsure, the place has copious amounts of security, more than Canterlot Castle… And I do not have much data about the tower itself, I was made in Canterlot and my duty was to work developing the infrastructure of Appleloosa… I was only given basic information about Ponyville…”     “Huh… Well, I’m sure someday we’ll be able to get inside there, I’m sure those old ponies figured out all kinds of things that could help us.”     “I see you ponies live in fear, the temperatures are too low for you to survive without a constant source of heat, the air has dangerous levels of mercury vapor, nitrogen dioxide, chlorine, and fluorine… I cannot imagine how it must feel living in fear of the air and the wind. The storm was starting to clear just a bit, the air was clearer, less choked with deadly snow, and the wind was dying down, they were nearing Ponyville… The outskirts were dotted with small crumbing cottages made of wood, collapsed, toppled, and mostly ruined by a century of violent storms, even now chips of wood and plaster were being kicked up by the wind, but the wind started to become less violent as they passed deeper into the city, where the increasing number of brick buildings provided something of a shield from the storms beyond. The brick buildings had not survived the years all too well either, many collapsed, some completely, but most only partially, and some were still standing, but Petrochemical did not want to step a hoof inside lest their stability prove to be false. There were ancient wagons crowding the streets, most were completely buried under the snow, many only visible by small bits of metal peeking out of the white dunes, and made Basalt’s job far more difficult as the sled repeatedly got caught on broken down carriages and wagons. Eventually though, they saw through the mist, a small column of smoke rising between the rows of brick structures.     “Ethyl? What was life like back in old Equestria?” Petrochemical asked, “Just curious.”     “Unfortunately, I have very little data on that, everything that was given to me upon my creation is purely technical… I remember being created, I remember unicorns, walking around and talking as something was pulled out of me, I remember being told my purpose, being given my serial number, and a pony walking me down a hallway. I remember being told to sit inside the transport… A unicorn grabbed me in a telekinetic field and latched me into place inside the transport with twenty nine others who were all just as confused… And then nothing, until you found me.”     “That sounds… Awful…”     “It was confusing, but the unicorns told me what to do, and I did it. They were my creators and ultimate administrators… I suppose they’re dead now, and whoever was going to be my administrator in Appleloosa is dead as well…”     “Well, I guess that means you’re free to do whatever you want! More So than us, since you don’t have to worry about the cold or the snow.”     “It is against the laws of robotics for a machine like myself to be free. You are my administrator, I will obey any command you give me, that is what my creators told me to do.” Soon, the sled rounded a bend and there, down the snow-filled street, was a wall of scrap metal. Basalt marched up to the gate and banged a hoof… Half a minute passed with no reply. Basalt banged on the gate again, “We’re back, let us in!” He shouted.     “W-Who goes there!” A stallion’s voice called out from inside.     “Lily Oak I know it’s you Celestia damn it, open the door!”     “B-Basalt! Hold on!” With that, there was the sound of metal scraping against metal and the gate slowly pulled open. “I can’t believe you’re alive, with the storm, I thought- What’s that on your face?” He said, staring at the charcoal black stallion and the funny looking thing on Bas’ face.     “A mask, you idiot,” he said, looking around at the air, he pulled it off, “Air looks clean enough to do without, thing feels weird.”     “I was so worried,” The pale yellow stallion said, moving up to give Basalt a hug, “I see you’ve brought back plenty of scrap, anything to keep the fires going?”     “We got something better!”     “We? Oh, Bumble is with you, isn’t she.”     “My name is Petrochemical,” Petrochem said as she hopped off the sled, “And for the record, we found two things which will save this village.”     “What Celestia forsaken contraption have you dug out of the snow this time, the last thing you brought back did shit for us, wasn’t even worth scrapping.”     “First, let me introduce you to Ethylene!” She said, going around to the back of the sled where Ethyl was sitting, peering out from behind the pile of metal they had been carrying. Dragging her over by the hoof.     “What in Celestia’s name is that!” Oak shouted, eyes going wide at the sight of this pony with both wings and a horn, made from metal, wires, and pipes, mostly hidden behind a hard white facade. His shout attracted attention, and soon other guards, holding makeshift spears that had been crafted from rusty scrap metal, marched up. Petrochem jumped between the guards and Ethyl, “This is Ethylene, we found her inside a wagon of some kind, she’s a machine who looks and acts like a pony, she’s friendly.” The guards looked uneasy, “Bumblebee,” A mare guard said, “I know you mean well, but we all know your track record with the Celestia forsaken artifacts you’ve dug up.”     “Trust her,” Basalt said, “Normally I’d be on your side, but I think my sister’s right in this situation.” With a grumble, Oak ordered the guards to lower their spears. “Chief ain’t going to like this.”     “I’ll handle the old mule.” “You’ll have no choice,” The mare guard said, “After you and Bumblebee left, the Chief gave explicit orders that should you return alive, he would speak to you in person, both of you.” Petrochem and Basalt paused and stared at each other, eyes wide with shock and fear, both muttering a “Fuck” under their breath simoltaniously. The guard continued “Leave behind the scrap you collected, except for that… Thing… I’m sure the chief would like to see that in person as well.” “Well, we have one other thing the chief would like to see, a machine that makes heat without needing to burn any fuel.” That caught the guards attention, most were skeptical, others were intrigued. But the mare addressing them hid any emotion she felt quite well, “I agree, bring that as well, may very well be one of the only things of use you have ever brought us.” Petrochem went back to the sled and lifted the RTG with her horn… It was heavy as fuck, and she could feel sweat building as she struggled to carry it, “Need help?” Basalt asked.     “N-No, I got it… Huh-” She said, the RTG suddenly seeming to grow lighter in her grasp.     “Allow me to aid you,” Ethyl replied.     “Shouldn’t you be saving your energy?”     “This is barely a drain on my internal reserves, and it is the least I can do for my administrator.”     “T-Thank you, Ethyl.” With that, the five ponies made their way through the village, Bas, Petro, and Ethyl flanked by the spear-wielding guards, Oak Lily and the mare. Oak Lily looking at Basalt with very obvious concern in his eyes. Both Basalt and Petrochem were profusely swearing under their breath. “Your use of expletives and general behavior seems to suggest an intense fear bordering on panic, what is it that you fear?” Ethyl whispered     “Quite frankly, we’re fucked,” Basalt whispered back, making sure the guards didn’t hear them.     “Yeah… You see, the Chief hates me, like, really fucking despises me,” Petrochem said as quietly as she could.     “That’s a real huge ass understatement there,” Bas continued, “Last time you two met I swear he was going to banish or even order your execution.”     “I don’t think he’d go that far… But…” She paused, “No, you’re probably right.”     “Quite frankly, I don’t think he likes me either. I don’t think I’ve ever pissed him off directly, I think he just hates everything associated with you.”     “Really… I think he just hates everyone who doesn’t worship him like he’s Celestia incarnate…But yeah, he’s really out for me in particular… And…” Petrochem turned to look at Ethylene “If he’s that fucking enraged by my existance… I really don’t like your chances, Ethyl… Damn it, I should have predicted this, made up some plan to deal with that senile megolomaniac.”     “I-” Basalt began, “I figured something like this might happen, I hoped that, if the guards, if Oak at least, could be convinced then maybe the Chief would at least humor us.”     “I’m sorry, I really do wish I could help you,” Lily Oak said, having gotten a little closer and who had been listening in, “But… The Chief is extra angry at you… He’s not just his normal pissy self, he’s… He’s really gone crazy this time… I’ll try to help but… I-”     “It’s ok, Lily, you don’t need to sacrifice yourself for us,” Basalt responded.     “Basalt, you’re my best friend, I’ll help however I can when it comes to dealing with the Chief.”     “Please don’t risk yourself for our sakes, Lily.” Basalt finished. They marched through the village, very few ponies were outside, most huddled for warmth inside the ruins of ancient houses and offices, sitting around fire pits, burning chunks of wood, paper, and what little coal and charcoal they could find. Some ponies, those who were ostracized from their friends and family for whatever reason, were merely left with cloth blankets and cloaks, huddling as close as they can to something warm without drawing attention from those who distrusted them. There were corpses too… Perfectly preserved by the cold, these normally were from the aforementioned ostracized ponies, who ended up being left in the corners, alleys, and scrap metal shelters, where they had died, some from the frigid cold, but many more from being outside of the old brick buildings when the storms came, and toxic snow covered everything… As they passed, Petrochem had to avert her eyes from a young foal, who couldn’t have been more than a few months, out in the snow, crying over the body of a mare who Petro swore she had seen walking around in the camp just a few days ago, right before she left with Basalt. Petrochem passed her own shelter, made of scrap metal she had collected herself, warmed by pots of burning black goo she had made from the corpses of the unfortunate ponies who perished in the cold… No pony ever wanted to associate with her, not even the other ostracized ponies, due to her relationship with the Chief and her freak-powers, even her own parents spent their time inside one of the crumbling brick buildings, huddled around a fire pit with their clique of friends, even denying that she was in any way related to them… Vague memories returned to her, around about a decade back… Her parents were screaming at her, threatening to cut off her horn if she did anything else weird with it, this was right after she first learned how to make stuff float with just a thought… Suddenly Petrochemical found rage boiling inside her, but she was cooled down when she felt Basalt place his hoof on her shoulder and help push her forward, toward the Chief’s building. Basalt… Basalt fitted in perfectly with the other members of the tribe, he could have lived in relative happiness with mom and dad, inside their crumbling brick shelters rather than out here in cold scrap shacks, but he chose to stick by his own sister’s side. A wave of appreciation washed over her, helping to further quench the rage inside, but it didn’t extinguish it entirely. They passed the farms, a big building made of scrap metal and bricks salvaged from the ruined buildings, a roof made of cloth to let light in… She had seen the inside only once, the farm was warmed by a big but carefully controlled fire, and there were hundreds of clay pots growing hay for the ponies to eat… She was banned after she accidentally bumped one of the hay grass plants with her horn, and the plant turned to black sludge. Then they passed the fuel bunker, a brick building that looked as if it had been beheaded, with the roof and good chunks of the walls made of scrap metal. The door was open, and a grim feeling passed over her when she saw what was left… The pile of wood, paper, what little scraps of coal they had stumbled across, and really anything flammable, was getting quite small. It was already reaching dangerously low levels back when Petrochem had left, but now the pile wasn’t too much taller than a pony, they had at most a week and a half of fuel before the fires went dead, and despite the ancient wooden buildings in the outskirts of ponyville, the ruins she had passed earlier, all the ponies were too scared to be caught outside in a storm that they wouldn’t scour the place unless it was a necessity… And they wouldn’t consider it a necessity until the Chief’s fireplaces were at risk… But that meant that in the meantime, the ponies outside, in their metal shacks, living around the meager campfires with what little fuel they were allotted, would go without heat for a long while. Soon, they reached the Chief’s home… It was the most intact of all the brick buildings, there were some parts that had obviously crumbled in the past, but had been repaired using bricks from the other buildings in the village. The scrap metal door slid open, and Basalt, Petrochemical, Ethylene, the two guards, and their RTG were all allowed in before the door was closed shut behind them. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Basalt whispered under his breath, as quiet as possible, as he saw the Chief. There he sat, the chief. The building, while still tiny and cramped in comparison to the steel mill, was by far the largest of the buildings in the village. In the middle was a grand hearth, burning with coal and wood scraps, making the room nice and warm, on par with that of the farm building. A hoof-full of guards were standing at attention, watching the newcomers enter, staring with extreme suspicion, shock, or outright hostility at Ethylene. The Chief, or King, as he preferred to be called, sat atop what could only be called a throne, made from the shiniest scrap metal that could be found, gold, bronze, brass, copper, silver, electrum, and all other shiny metal scraps that had been collected over the years. The throne was crowned by a crude effigy of a sun with the vague image of a winged unicorn painted on it. The pony who sat atop the throne was ancient, truly ancient… He had a slight tremble, visible even from this distance, one eye drooping slightly. Most of the hairs on his mane and tail had fallen out and those that remained were ragged, his coat somewhat patchy, his skin beneath covered in wrinkles… But his voice, aged as it was, still boomed with authority.     “Bumblebee,” He said, his voice dripping with barely contained hatred and malice.     “My name is Petrochemical.”     “No it is not, delusional foal, your parents named you Bumblebee and as such you must respect your elders, you are Bumblebee,” The stallion paused to give a horrible sounding dry cough that lasted an entire minute. One of the guards marched over, “Back… Peasant,” He shouted to the guard, “I am fine, return to your post, at once!” The guard hastily nodded and returned, standing at attention and politely looking away from the Chief. “Bumblebee,” He continued, “What cursed artifact, what tool of dark magic of the old world have you brought it upon yourself to deliver unto us this time.”     “Chief, I-”     “You will address me as King or Lord, foal.”     “Y-Yes, King… I have brought back two items I think you’ll appreciate from beyond the ruins… One, is this,” She said, setting down the RTG, “It is a machine, called a Radioisotope Thermoelectric Generator, it produces heat without the need for fuel, feel it for yourself.” The Chief eyed the device, “Guard, inspect it, ensure that it works as the fool as said, and that it is not tainted by some dark sorcery.” The guard obliged, and walked up to the RTG, standing next to it, looking it over, feeling it with a hoof. After a few minutes of this, the guard nodded “My lord, I believe it is safe and works as the peasant has said.”     “Good, take it to my chambers. I accept this offering, foal… However this single discovery does not make up for whatever abomination you have brought into my kingdom,” He said, staring at Ethylene, not bothering to hide the anger and disdain in his voice anymore. The so-called King grabbed his sword, using it as a cane, and pulled himself off his throne, one guard took a step forward to aid the Chief, but a glare from the Chief made the guard step back into line. “What is this disgusting thing…” The Chief said, looking at Ethylene.     “It is a machine-pony, designed to build and repair other machines,” Petrochemical said, "I believe she will be of great aid to the-"     “I have heard enough, it is a hideous horror… Guards, kill this abomination.”     “Chief!” Petrochem shouted.     “King!” The Chief shouted back, voice somehow louder than Petrochem’s despite his old age.     “King, this machine pony has in-depth knowledge of all kinds of mechanical wonders, I am positive she’ll be able to help us create more machines to produce heat, and perhaps even food, she can help the tribe survive, thrive even!”     “Foal… Machines of all kinds are dangers, horrors, abominations who must be purged from this world, they go against everything our goddess Celestia embodies… And look at this thing, this machine… It dares to make a mockery of our Celestia’s form, this machine dares to take the form of a pony, of a supreme alicorn no less, no pony outside of great Celestia should have a horn and wings, it is heresy… Though I should not be surprised that you foal would feel some twisted kind of kinship with this accursed horror, horned pony as you are… Born to be a perversion of Celestia’s form as well. Petrochemical was about to respond, but Basalt did it for her. “Asshole! That’s my sister you’re threateni-”     “Did I ask you to speak, pony… You are a true pony, why cannot you look past your foolish familial bond and realize that your so-called sister is a perversion, a crime against the natural order! And now she brings an even worse abomination into my kingdom! Into my court!” It was Ethylene’s turn to respond, “Unicorns are natural!” At this, the guards all gasped, and the Chief somehow managed to look even more outraged.     “The machine talks! The machine talks!” He shouted, fury running through his veins, “This goes beyond heresy!” Ethylene did not stop talking though “I was created by living, breathing unicorns! I have seen pegasi with my eyes before I was put into my transport! I was designed by Twilight Sparkle, an alicorn just like Celestia! Your ignorance about nature is-”     “You dare speak that name, abomination! Horror of horrors! Demon from the darkest pits of hell! You dare speak the name of the grand heretic! The princess of heretics sorcery, she who shall not be named! And compare her to our glorious Celestia!” With this, the Chief flipped his sword-cane around and moved to slash at Ethylene, but his sword was caught in a golden field of light. Petrochem’s horn was glowing, but suddenly her power collapsed when she realized what she just did… The Chief, murder in his eyes, walked up slowly to Petrochemical, sword drawn “By daring to protect this abomination, this perversion of nature, and by daring to use your dark sorcery upon me, your King, appointed to lead by Celestia herself, you have condemned yourself to burn in the fires of hell, to die a thousand painful deaths. I hope you suffer for all eternity for this unforgivable sin,” His voice had gone beyond anger and was now one of a murderous cold calm. He raised his sword, and Petrochemical, still frozen in horror by her own actions, could only stand there as the Chief moved to behead her. There was the swoosh of the sword flying through the air, a hard cracking sound, like stone hitting bone, and Petrochemical opened her eyes to see Ethylene standing in front of her, hoof outstretched, sword having lodged itself in the machine-pony’s hoof, at least in the softish outer-plating made of the white substance that Ethyl had called Plastic.     “It is against the laws of robotics for me to allow any harm to befall another pony, and it is for that very same reason that I have not already killed you for threatening my administrator, my…” She paused, “My friend.” The guards all looked stunned. Oak shouted at the Chief, "Sir, the Code!" Petrochem was still speechless when another surprise shook her, Basalt’s scream of rage and the stream of bright red blood that splattered across her face, “Don’t you fucking lay your dirty hooves on my sister!” Basalt shouted as loud as he could between the iron pole he had gripped by the teeth, blood dripping from the end as it passed through the Chief’s neck. Basalt dropped the pole, the Chief gasping for breath, gargling a curse right before Basalt, with all his earth-pony strength, slammed his hooves down on the Chief’s head. There was a horrible crunching sound, a sickening splat. Petrochem couldn’t bare to look, but she heard it all, Basalt stomping again and again on the Chief’s corpse, Basalt crying in rage, grief, relief, and sweet catharsis, all in equal measure. The guards were all too shocked to respond. After a few seconds passed, the mare-guard moved to try and stab Basalt with her spear, but Lily Oak gave the guard mare a hard buck to the side, knocking the breath out of her and forcing the spear out of her grip. All while Basalt was still sobbing and stomping as hard as he could, even after nothing recognizable was left of the Chief besides a red smear on the ground and a pool of blood leaking through the dozens of craters in the thoroughly pulverized brick, shouting at the top of his lungs with every slam "You! Do! Not! Hurt! My! Sister!"