//------------------------------//
// Chapter XXIX – A Spark of Inspiration 
// Story: To Devour a God 
// by the7Saviors 
//------------------------------//

The next few hours I spent in that projection room were full of adrenaline, fair but firm guidance from Cheerilee and Derpy, and a few interesting revelations I discovered about myself during training.

Just as I was told, there wasn't much of a change in scenery and the only thing that was generated by the thaumic projector was a single Vargren. The slavering wolf looked menacing enough, snapping and snarling and bearing its blackened teeth at me. The projection was so unexpectedly convincing that I froze up in terror for a moment.

My mind flashed back to the night we'd rode into the slums and got attacked in the APC. Unlike then, there was no armored vehicle or Spike to stand between me and the wooden bark-like beast this time. This time it was just the two of us and I wasn't equipped to handle the vicious creature.

It took Cheerilee a worryingly long time to convince me that I was equipped to handle the Vargren in front of me. It took me another embarrassingly long moment to realize the thing wasn't attacking me. It just stood there looking menacing and that was it. It didn't make any move to tear my throat out or devour my innards.

It was just a training dummy.

Once I finally realized that fact, the terror died down for the most part. Still, lingering unease made me tighten my grip on the short blade as I moved to follow Cheerilee's careful instruction. The way training worked was kind of strange in my opinion because you had no real lead to follow. No teacher to show you the ropes.

Yes, Cheerilee was there over the earpiece giving me tips and pointers. I was taught in general how to move on the battlefield—things like how to distribute my weight when swinging various blades or responding to certain types of attacks by different Avidaeos. I was taught about stamina management and when to use and save expendable items like flash grenades or ampules.

I was even given a quick rundown of Avidaeus strengths and weaknesses. I was, however, happy to learn that most of those types of lessons were done the traditional way, through lectures and textbooks. Doctor Whooves would also be acting as my teacher during those lessons.

And then there was what was very likely the most important part of a Daeus Arm, the devour module. The devour module built within all battle-ready Daeus Arms is what allowed them to take their 'predator form'. The predator form in turn is how Daeus Hunters were able to keep an Avidaeus from reforming and finish it off in a sense.

When Cheerilee first mentioned predator form I hadn't been entirely sure what she was talking about until she explained it. Then I realized I'd seen that particular form in action twice before. I remembered how Nightmare Moon herself had conjured some sort of demonic 'mouth' from her spear that stretched out and plunged itself into the fallen Avidaeus.

I saw Captain Applejack do the same thing to one of the giant lizard-like Avidaeos in this very projection room. Cheerilee's explanation gave some more context to what I'd witnessed. A battle against an Avidaeus was essentially a process of breaking down its Hive Cell structure until it was weak enough to rip out the core.

Predator form was how Daeus Hunters accomplished that task. Without it, an Avidaeus could simply run off and feed on something else to regain its strength and rebuild its Hive Cell structure. Not only did tearing chunks out of an Avidaeus make it weaker, but it also made the Hunter stronger.

There were two additional functions of the devour module. The second function allowed a Daeus Arm to convert and adapt consumed Hive Cells to boost the Daeus Hunter's overall strength and agility for a brief period. The third function allowed a Hunter with a ranged weapon to fire a special unique bullet created from the Cells of the Avidaeus devoured.

That wasn't even the end of what the devour module could potentially do. New functions were still being researched and tested even now. The creation of the Daeus Arm and the devour module therein truly was a turning point for us in the seemingly neverending war against the Avidaeos.

I had a hard time trying to wrap my head around the specifics of how any of this was supposed to work. The sheer complexity that must've been involved gave me a new respect for Daeus Arm engineers like Derpy. I couldn't activate predator form with the training Arms, but Cheerilee assured me that the process would be so easy to pull off as to be almost instinctual. 

I didn't know whether to be relieved at the ease of use or disturbed at the implications.

I learned all manner of practical knowledge regarding survival and Avidaeos assault as I clumsily flailed about with each weapon. But on the whole, you were encouraged to experiment. To find what approach and style worked best for you. I, unfortunately, had some trouble finding out what actually worked for me.  

Attacking the enemy wasn't hard, it was a stationary target that didn't fight back. The problem was that none of the weapons I used felt right. The short blade was too light and I couldn't shake the habit of overextending myself. The long blade wasn't too hard to use, but for some reason, I couldn't get behind the idea of using the same weapon as my brother.

I couldn't explain why, but it just... felt like bad luck. I couldn't use the buster blade for the same reason as my brother—too unwieldy. I had the same problem with the charge spear that I did with the short blade but for the opposite reason. I was overextending because the spear was too top-heavy and I couldn't adjust for the shift in weight properly.

The boost hammer was far too complex a weapon for me, to the point that I actually injured myself in a rather embarrassing display while trying to figure it out. I could tell that with some patience and a good sense of movement and your surroundings, it was a formidable weapon. If I was being honest though, the thing scared me a bit.

Seriously, Pinkie and the boost hammer were practically made for each other...

Surprisingly, I found that I had the least issues with the variant scythe. I couldn't even tell you why. I had grabbed the weapon thinking I'd have the same exact problem I'd had with the charge spear, but no. One swing of the curved blade flowed smoothly into the next and it was easy to find a rhythm.

Attacking the immobile Vargren almost felt like a dance. I found myself naturally settling into a series of twisting, twirling steps without realizing it, each attack hitting its mark without fail. I didn't know how I looked to the ponies watching from the observation deck but I was actually beginning to enjoy myself. I thought I had found my perfect weapon...

...right up until I tripped over my own hooves and fell flat on my face.

As if that embarrassment wasn't enough, I felt my stomach give a nauseous lurch as I got up and just barely managed to keep myself from retching all over the floor. Needless to say, that was the end of my brief but beautiful relationship with the variant scythe... but maybe not. I was self-aware enough to realize that I might've done well with the weapon.

When I headed back up to the observation deck to give my thoughts I found that both the Doctor and Derpy agreed. Evidently, I had been a fairly impressive sight for somepony who'd never used a variant scythe before. It seemed not many took up the weapon for the same reason I hadn't taken up the boost hammer, which surprised me.

On the surface, I was still uncertain but logically I knew that no other melee weapon had felt as right as the variant scythe. By a simple process of elimination that's what I'd probably end up choosing and I wasn't too upset about it. With all the melee weapons tried and tested, it was time for me to test out the artillery.

This process went by a fair bit quicker seeing as there weren't as many options for long-range weaponry. It was also a much more mortifying experience due to two factors. The first was that at some point, my would-be Captain had shown up to observe me alongside Derpy, Cheerilee, and the Doctor. The second was that I was a terrible, terrible shot.

To hear Applejack tell it—as she practically choked on her own laughter—I couldn't hit the broad side of a barn. Not even if I was standing three hooves in front of it. That did very little for my morale, but I had a hard time disputing her words. I failed utterly with every single gun I'd tried to use.

Assault gun? I'd sprayed practically everything but the unmoving Vargren in front of me. Sniper gun? Missed every shot because I kept flinching due to recoil and even fell over a few times. Blast gun? Somehow I was the one that went flying when I fired it. Cheerilee had said something about posture and setting my hooves properly but I just couldn't seem to get it right. Same went for the shotgun. 

Thankfully, the Captain had other business to attend to and left before I headed back up to the observation deck. Her only piece of advice to me before she left was to keep at it and ask Rarity for her help. While I was sure Rarity could give me some amazing pointers, I just wasn't feeling the long-range approach. I also wasn't looking forward to the conversation with the others about my abysmal display later.

I'm pretty sure the Captain is itching to tell the rest of the team all about it...

All that was left was the arcane stave and by this point, I didn't have much hope. Given what I'd already heard about the thing, I wasn't expecting much out of it. The arcane stave, or staff, had the general look of the magical wooden staves of old, though this one clearly wasn't made of wood. The stave was made of the same metals as the other weapons and was about the height of a charge spear.

Instead of a spearhead though, there was a massive ring at the tip. Embedded around the thick ring equidistant from each other were five fist-sized orbs, each glowing a different color. One was a blazing red, another a frosty blue, then sparkling violet, brilliant golden-yellow, and finally a radiant emerald green. 

Within the center of the ring, held in place by the claw-like end of the stave's shaft was another orb, this one pitch black and almost twice as large as the others. At the base of the large ring, spread out around it like the petals of a flower was what I assumed to be the built-in shield. According to Derpy, when activated, the shield would slide down to the center of the shaft and readjust itself to block incoming attacks.

I wasn't sure how it all worked, but it seemed to make sense for the most part. When I asked about how a melee weapon would be implemented in the design, Derpy just gave me a wink and told me not to sweat the details and to leave it to her, so I did. I wasn't interested in the shield or the melee weapons anyway. What intrigued me more were the orbs.

I could tell just by looking that each orb was a spell crystal of some sort. Judging by each color I could also surmise that the five outer orbs housed a different type of elemental magic—namely fire, ice, lightning, light, and healing magic respectively. That was easy enough to deduce, but I was much less sure about the pitch-black orb in the middle.

Derpy's face seemed to light up when I asked her about the rather ominous-looking orb in the center.

"Oh, that?" she said with no small amount of foalish glee, "well, arcane staves don't have the ability to convert Hive Cells into bullets like the guns do—no barrel to fire them from obviously.

"Instead, when you devour and consume Hive Cells from an Avidaeus, that spell crystal in the middle powers up your existing spells and adds some... interesting effects on top of that."

"Effects?" I asked, intrigued despite myself, "what kind of effects?"

"Well, that depends on what type of spell you use," Derpy replied with a shrug of her shoulders, "I suppose if you were a gamer you'd call them 'status ailments' or 'debuffs'."

I wasn't a 'gamer' in the sense that Derpy was probably referring to. Shining Armor and I didn't really have any video games around the house growing up. That said, I had run more than my fair share of Ogres and Oubliettes campaigns with Moon Dancer and the rest of my friends back in the day. 

It was Shiny who'd got me into the game and I had to admit it was a lot of fun. Despite what Minuette would have others believe, I felt I was a really good GM whenever my turn came around to run the campaign. The memories of those days came flooding back unbidden and it took me a moment to bring myself back to reality.

I realized with some embarrassment that I'd been staring at Derpy while I was zoned out. Thankfully the wall-eyed mare just shrugged my apology away, saying she'd been there before. Attempting to push past the awkwardness, I asked about how these 'status ailments' worked, though I already had a fairly good idea based on the spells.

"I said the effects were interesting, but really it's pretty much exactly what you'd expect," Derpy explained, "casting a fire spell sets the Avidaeus on fire, an ice spell will freeze them solid, lightning paralyzes them, and you can blind them with a photon spell. 

"Throw your teammates a heal and the spell will also grant a regenerative effect for a while. It's all temporary of course, but a well-placed debuff can make all the difference especially when you hit an Avidaeus' weakness."

"Wow," I muttered, eyeing the arcane stave with newfound appreciation, "I had no idea the arcane stave had so much utility. If it weren't for the obvious drawbacks this thing would far outstrip any of the guns."

"I  wouldn't go that far," Derpy said with a grin that was equal parts wry and amused, "when you take the sheer amount of customization that bullet crafting allows into account, the guns still take the cake in terms of utility, but I get where you're coming from," with that, Derpy began to push me towards the stairs leading down to the projection room, "now go on, get down there and give it a spin!"

I looked over to Cheerilee who started to give a thumbs up, signaling that I was good to go, but paused when Doctor Whooves put a hand on her shoulder. Cheerilee gave him a bemused look but when the stallion spoke he was looking at me.

"A word, if I may before you move on to the final exercise, Miss Sparkle?"

The stallion's expression wasn't severe, but there was a hint of solemnity to his features that made me a bit nervous.

"Oh... yeah, sure," I replied, giving Derpy a look before moving back over to the workstation where Cheerilee sat, "is something wrong?"

"Oh no, nothing's wrong. I'd just like to give you a bit of advice is all," he assured me with another one of his genial smiles, though it quickly fell into something more serious as he spoke, "I'm sure you've heard that the arcane stave draws upon an artificial, self-replenishing source of mana to cast spells, yes?"

"Yeah," I replied with a nod, "I remember Rainbow Dash mentioning something about it."

"I see," the Doctor replied with a slow, thoughtful nod, "...did she also mention that the arcane stave also requires your own unique mana signature to function properly?"

"What? No, this is the first I've heard of something like that," I frowned thoughtfully, "then again, I suppose that's not too surprising."

Unicorns manipulate their mana signatures in order to cast spells. Basically, mana provides the energy needed to cast a spell, and a mana signature is the key required to 'write' and 'execute' that spell. A properly structured spell needs a mana signature to function, just as the Doctor mentioned.

Magitech engineers and thaumatologists found a way to write and seal spells within crystals, but those spells still need either direct contact from a pony's mana signature or some kind of special interface with a mana signature built-in. 

Any unicorn who had ever cast a spell successfully knew how to manipulate their mana signature. It was one of the first things they taught in basic thaumaturgy back in primary school. With that said though, it was a different story when using an object other than your horn as a catalyst.

Most pegasi and earth ponies had no way of consciously manipulating their mana signatures. Normally, any magic cast by a pegasus or an earth pony was cast through an instinctual reaction within their mana veins. There were some minor exceptions to this rule, such as Rainbow Dash and the prismatic trails she leaves behind when reaching a certain velocity while flying or Pinkie's seemingly inexplicable shenanigans.

At least, that's the only explanation I can come up with for how she does what she does.

"I've also heard that the stave takes a heavy toll on the user," I continued, "if it was just the mana circuits and your own mana signature that shouldn't be the case, so what else should I be worried about?"

"Ah, that is the exact right question to ask, my dear girl!" Doctor Whooves exclaim, giving me an approving clap on the shoulder, "you see, it's the Hive Cells in your body that act as the thaumaturgical link between your own mana signature and the mana circuits within the stave. The more spells you cast in quick succession, the more strained that link becomes—"

"And that in turn puts a negative strain on your body, potentially leading you to lose control of your Hive Cells and eventually... possible Hive Cell corruption," I surmised with a quiet swallow of nervousness.

"Just so," the Doctor confirmed with a grim nod, "but that's not all you have to worry about I'm afraid. If you attempt to utilize the stave to cast spells exceeding the mana circuit's reserves, the stave may attempt to pull any excess mana directly from your personal pool of mana."

I opened my mouth, but I didn't have a response to give. The horror of his words spoke for itself. Feeling somewhat sick, I cast a fearful glance at the arcane stave in my hands. Thoughts of replacing the weapon back on its rack ran through my mind, but another reassuring pat on the shoulder from Doctor Whooves brought my attention back to him.

"But I wouldn't worry too much about that," he replied in a tone that was unnervingly chipper after what he'd just told me, "we're talking about the most extreme of cases here. The arcane stave and your Hive Cells can handle a fair bit of strain so long as you don't push yourself too hard, so chin up and give us a good show, eh?"

"Y-Yeah," I replied, trying and failing to match his encouraging smile, "thanks for the warning, Doctor. I'll definitely, uh... keep all of that in mind."

"Be sure that you do," he nodded towards the stairs leading to projection room, "now go on. Off with you then."

I gave a shaky nod and made my way back over to the open door and down the stairs. Up above I could hear both Derpy and Cheerilee verbally laying into the Doctor for his 'fearmongering', but I wasn't really listening. I was too busy thinking about anything and everything that could go wrong.

I'd just begun to feel comfortable being here, but now there was a whole different sort of atmosphere stepping into the projections room. I felt like was the one chosen to test out a deadly new superweapon that could go off and kill me at any time. While that wasn't entirely the case, it wasn't entirely untrue either.

"Calm down, Twilight," I muttered to myself, barely able to hear my own voice over the loud mechanical whir of the thaumic projector coming to life once again, "it's just like Doctor Whooves said. As long as you don't push yourself, everything will be fine."

There weren't many arcane stave users in the Ponyville Branch—in fact, I'd only heard of one other pony who'd taken it up—but they'd managed to not get themselves killed thus far. The thought was supposed to bring me some comfort but as the immobile Vargren manifested before me something in the back of my mind began to nag at me. As Cheerilee began to bark instructions into my ear I couldn't help feeling like I was missing something. Something crucial piece of information I'd forgotten.

Like the answer to the last make-or-break question on an exam...

"Alright, Twilight, this should be fairly easy," Cheerilee was saying over the earpiece, "casting a spell with the stave shouldn't be any different or any more difficult than using your horn but it might feel a little strange at first if you've never used another catalyst before."

I set my hooves and tightened my grip on the arcane stave, all the while trying to push that nagging sensation aside and focus on Cheerilee's words.

"I've worked with other catalysts so that shouldn't be an issue," I assured, sounding more confident than I actually was, "but how will I know once the mana circuits are depleted?"

"You'll feel it through the cellular link," Cheerilee replied, "when that happens, just lift the pen from the paper as the saying goes."

I blinked at that last statement. Lifting the pen from the paper was a saying used by thaumaturgy teachers. It essentially referred to the act of cutting off a spell through the cessation of mana signature manipulation. I was surprised Cheerilee knew the phrase as it was pretty much just a unicorn thing.

Then again, she did mention being a teacher in the past, probably a mixed tribe teacher if her knowledge of that phrase is anything to go by.

"Blunt as he was about the matter, the good Doctor wasn't wrong about the risks," Cheerilee continued, "if you continue to cast once the strain reaches a certain threshold, your Hive Cells will start to pull mana from your own wellspring in an attempt to stabilize the link."

"And if that happens?" I asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"If that happens you'll feel a strong tugging sensation within your wellspring. You'll have a small window, so the moment you feel that sensation, drop the stave immediately, no matter the situation."

"Wait, that's it?" I asked incredulously, "just... drop the weapon? There's nothing else you can do?"

"Unfortunately, no," Cheerilee answered, her tone grim, "once you pass that threshold and if you miss that window, your Hive Cells won't let you go until either the spell is cast, or..."

Cheerilee didn't finish the sentence, but she and I both knew she didn't need to. Hive Cell corruption was a nasty business and she had no need to go into detail about what would happen. I grimaced at the thought and groaned inwardly as I prepared to make the second stupidest decision of my life after the Daeification process.

Well, that decision was out of my hands, but still...

"I'm starting to get a better idea of why nopony uses the arcane stave," I grumbled, but raised the weapon in question towards the Vargen, "and everypony has to use this thing at least once?"

"Actually, they don't," Cheerilee admitted after a moment, "had you requested to return the Arm and end the training there, you would've been free to do so. You still are."

"And you couldn't tell me this before I came down here ready to risk my neck?!" I shouted up at the observation deck.

"I know how you feel and I'm sorry, Twilight," Cheerilee said, sounding genuinely apologetic, "but protocol requires us to provide all the facts before giving the opportunity to back out. Still, whether you were down there or up here in the observation deck, I was always going to give you that option."

If that's the case, then why were Derpy and the Doctor so eager to get me down here knowing the risks? I didn't exactly try to hide my discomfort so why not mention I can back out beforehand?

Those questions brought me back to the conversation between Cheerilee and Derpy, the one I hadn't heard while coming in. And then there was that private talk between Derpy and the Doctor afterward. As doubt and suspicion welled up in my gut, that nagging sensation from earlier only grew stronger.

Are they not telling me something about this training exercise?

"Twilight?"

"Huh?" 

I was pulled out of my grim ruminations by Cheerilee's concerned voice.

"It's up to you," she continued, "like Doctor Turner said, your body should be able to handle a good deal of strain, but we are also aware of the danger involved. If you don't want to continue, we won't force you."

I don't have to continue, huh...?

I straightened up and lowered the stave, my thoughts racing. After learning more about what I'd be getting myself into, I didn't want to go through with it. I wanted very much to stop the training exercise right here and choose some other Daeus Arm to wield. I'd even found one I could potentially be really good with.

As far as guns went, I could just choose another one and get advice from Rarity on how to be a better shot like the Captain suggested. Rainbow had even begged me not to use the arcane stave, likely for these exact reasons. There was no reason for me to use the arcane stave and every reason for me not to use it.

And yet...

I couldn't help the pensive frown that crossed my face as I looked at the stave in my hands. Common sense was telling me to walk back up those stairs and put the arcane stave back where I found it. I wanted to. I almost did, but that little nagging voice in the back of my mind was screaming at me to wait. Wait for what, I wasn't sure, but I surmised that it had something to do with that feeling that I was missing something vitally important.

"Twilight...?"

What is it? What am I missing? Was it something Doctor Whooves or Cheerilee said about the Daeus Arm? Or was it—no, hang on a minute...

"Twilight? Twilight, can you hear me?"

"I'm... I'm gonna go for it!" I called out.

I was already regretting my decision as I raised the stave once again, but I needed to test something. I ignored Cheerilee's bemused response and instead focused my attention on the Vargren in front of me. I took a couple of steadying breaths before pointing the tip of the stave in the direction of my target.

You're an idiot, Twilight Sparkle. Seriously, if this doesn't work then I'm basically a dead mare. If it does though... then maybe I might be able to...

It wasn't until I reached within myself and felt the mana in my thaumic wellspring that I remembered what it was that was bothering me. It was the fact that I could feel the mana in my wellspring. Not just a bit of it like back at the warehouse, but all of it. It had diminished before but now it was all there. The only thing stopping me from reaching inward and pulling all of it out was the blockage caused by the Hive Cells in my body.

"Are you sure about this?" Cheerilee asked warily. I wasn't sure, but it sounded like she was slightly distracted as she spoke, "it's only your first day of training. You can always try again later once you feel more comfortable."

"I don't think I'm ever going to feel comfortable with this," I replied with a shaky, panic-fueled laugh, "but... there's something I want to try."

"Twilight, what are you doing?" Cheerilee exclaimed, suddenly sounding very tense. I heard some kind of muffled commotion over the earpiece before Cheerilee came back on, "I don't know what you're trying to accomplish but I strongly urge you to—"

"I'm about to do something very unscientific, Miss Cheerilee," I interrupted. I could've sworn my heart was beating three times faster than it should've been, but my voice was oddly calm, "it's a risk, but if I don't try it now, there's no way I'm gonna be able to talk myself into doing it again."

"Twilight! You—"

Without another word, without giving it anymore more thought for fear of losing my nerve, I tied my mana signature to the arcane stave. A sharp gasp escaped my lips as the Hive Cells within the Daeus Arm and my own body formed the cellular link. I could actually feel the connecting cells snap into place. The moment I was connected I ignored the mana circuits altogether and pushed as much of my own thaumic energy into the stave as I could.

I'd chosen at random to imbue the lightning spell crystal with my mana and the reaction from the cellular link was immediate. What came next wasn't anything so gentle as a simple tug from the arcane stave. The moment I fed what little I could of my mana to the weapon, the Hive Cells within all but tore the rest of it out of me. The pain I experienced during the Daeification process couldn't even begin to compare to the agony I felt now.

My plan, foolish as it was, had been to forcefully unclog my thaumic wellspring using the arcane stave as a sort of thaumic plunger. I could tell, even through agony so great that it was practically transcendent, that the plan had worked. The mana was rushing out of my wellspring like a high-powered firehose. 

I still had a distant and hazy sense of my surroundings and could hear the constant, deafening roar and crack of thunder and lightning all around me. The sound was more than enough to drown out my screams and I was certain that the projection room wasn't coming out of this disaster unscathed. I didn't have the mental strength to worry about things like that now though. 

I had a much bigger problem on my hands, namely that I could also tell something fundamental was being altered inside of me. It was the same type of invasive metamorphosis I'd felt during my Daeification and that meant something was happening to the Hive Cells they'd pumped into me. Of course, I was far too focused on the pain wracking my entire body to care about that.

The utter chaos and maddening agony wrought by my fatally idiotic decision seemed to go on for an age. I almost thought it would never end. I thought I'd literally go insane before it was all over, but eventually, I was blinded by a brilliant flash of light and deafened by an earsplitting crack. At that same moment, I felt my hooves leave the ground followed by a vague sense of motion before a sudden painful impact brought everything to a screeching halt.

No more pain. No more flashing lights or thunderous sounds. No more whirling thoughts or constant worries. All that was left now was blessed darkness and a strange sense of accomplishment.