//------------------------------// // Chapter Three: Eyesore // Story: Rimworld: Colony is Magic // by Anotherrandom //------------------------------// Chapter Three: Eyesore Being in shock was a strange experience. Twilight felt like ponies overused the word, throwing it around and using it to describe awe or mild surprise, or getting zapped if Rainbow Dash was involved. This was not that kind of shock. Sun Glory rushed her to the hospital. He did what he could; he said. But there was nothing left to save. She lost an eye. The cut that did it was only inches from being much worse. Any higher and it would shear her horn off, touch lower and her throat would be sliced open. Twilight was lucky. She lived. Their defense failed. A miracle any of them survived. It hunted her. The feeling of slowly slipping away. Dying, for that's what was happening to her, puts one in a strange state of mind. It was like looking at the world through a microscope. Most of it was obscured, but what was visible became incredibly detailed. Each moment burned into her memory. Pressure against the bleeding wound, the feeling like she was floating, so light she may as well fly. Thoughts slowly rolled around in her head. How distant and separated from everything she felt. Less being in pain, more your brain informing you about pain and you acknowledging the fact that yes, that's lots of blood and yes, that's supposed to be inside, alongside with all this other stuff. And yes, it hurts. You told me it does brain! Of course, she screamed, she screamed for so long that her throat went rough. There were moments where she prayed to Celestia for the void to take her, for it to stop. It didn't. She was still conscious, mostly aware. The whole time. Sun tended her before, but that was a minor laceration and half a dozen stitches. This was different, it took Sun hours to stabilize her condition. Then came the single most horrible experience in her entire life. She would happily go through all the embarrassing and bad moments of her life, the infamous entrance tests to the school for gifted unicorns, fighting Discord, magic kindergarten, and the smarty-pants incident. Anything to avoid having to go through it ever again. Sun Glory had to clean her wounds, all of them. Taking what looked like a spray can out of a navy blue box with a cross and puting it to her muzzle. Holding her still with his good hand. The terrible, mind-shattering terror as he cleaned the empty eye socket was indescribable, as was the icy feeling the vaguely gray matter splattered there from the spray can induced in her. Closest would be thousands of ants tap dancing where her eye should be. Sun couldn't put her under. All of his remaining anesthetics affected blood clotting and white blood cells. If used, the risk she would die from blood loss or infections would skyrocket. He told her to grip the chain sword tightly and did what needed to be done. It didn't occur to her to ask why, on the account of the unbearable agony, but the presence of the weapon eased her suffering a little, holding it made her feel like she was submerged in a tub of warm water, the weird not-quite-pain washed away some, tensed muscle relaxed by little. And after what felt like hours, but probably was only a few minutes, her condition became stable. Sun stopped tending to her and started healing himself. She didn't know it, but the only other two colonists who remained unhindered were busy calming fires spreading throughout the housing part of Going South, fighting the inferno tooth and nail from reaching the workshop and the fuel and ammo depot inside. Leaving Sun to tend to himself. Step by bloody step, he removed the marine armor, one plasteel plate at a time, until only the exoskeleton and under-suit remained. He took care to only ever strip small parts of it at the same time, yet it revealed enough. Bruises all over. Sun Glory's whole upper body turned into a patchwork of color, ranging from deep blue to sick purple, even some shades of green. So many layered on each other. Each bruise announced just where his power armor did its job and protected him from the deadly plasma coated coil-gun rounds. Twilight carried similar proof. Her duster and flak vest had a sizable burn in it, the destroyed cloth revealing cracked and broken inserts that saved her life at the price of cracked ribs. The marine armor offered Sun excellent protection, a bruise, however ugly and painful, was nothing compared to the injuries were it not there. But all armor has flaws and can fail. Sun Glory's shoulder was mostly gone. The shot went in a gap just under the pauldrons, right into the armpit where it punched through the ballistic lining and evaporated most of what it touched. Flesh burned to crisp, bone visible. The under suit tensed around the wound, preventing blood flow. The technology reminded Twilight of the enchanted wonder bolt’s flight suits, made to help withstand the high Gs the speedsters experienced during maneuvers, only repurposed for combat. His jaw clenched as he applied more of the strange medicine on his shoulder. Mending damaged tissue, stopping bleeding and closing tattered skin right before her eyes. Sun's legs finally gave up from under him, collapsing next to Twilight's bed. She wanted to help him, but found herself unable to move, the strain of it all too much. So there they stayed into the night as flames raged outside until sleep finally claimed them. When Twilight woke up, Sun was gone. To her dismay, it wasn't all a nightmare. With a tentative hoof, she pressed against the layer of gauze and bandages around her head. It was all real. She sat there on the hospital bed, not knowing what to do now. Finally deciding on a taking stake in the current situation, she started gathering information on her surroundings. Sun’s armor disappeared. Made her wonder for a moment if he put it on very quietly or if she was just that hard to wake up after the ordeal. The sword was where she put it, resting next to her. As dangerous as keeping a weapon in your bed should be, she managed to not cause herself any more harm. Nothing else to do. She inspected it and its curious design. She didn't really have time to in the heat of battle. The rotating serrated teeth were made ‌of blue metal. Under closer inspection, she saw that tiny golden lines ran along every surface of the blade in a complex pattern. While filigree on a weapon was not unheard of, the opposite really, but this did not seem to be a decorative choice, as the lines were too fine to be visible normally. The grip was obviously made with human hands in mind. But the most confusing part was the hilt, or more accurately, what was on it. A written inscription. Imperium. Aeterna. Victrix. No translation program was needed. Twilight knew the meaning at first glance, because it was in Eguish. Ancient Eguish, but Eguish nonetheless. “Hey Sparks, are you awake?” King entered the hospital room. She noticed that he had a limp, and a tray with food he placed on the bed. A tightly packaged meal, not bothering with such things as taste, or any appeal, only with keeping the body functions going. In other words, hospital food. She tried reaching for one of the packages, only to miss it. Of course, no depth perception. No depth perception. This happened, didn't it? I-I been- “Sparky, you okay? You spaced out for a second.” Really? That was his question. “Oh, no. I'm fine. I have been mutilated but I'm A-okay! Fine! Great! Just peachy!” There was a twitch in her remaining eye. “Well, I should have expected that answer. Do you want to talk about it?” "What's there to talk about? The feeling of impending doom, sense of horrible loss, homesickness, the fact that I just got, and I reiterate, eye gouged out, and it won't stop itching? That every day spent here I drift further apart from the pony that I used to be. Will my friends, my family, even recognize me when I get back? When we are talking about that, will we ever get back? And it won't stop itching! Did I mention the itching? Because it won't stop bucking itching!” Twilight took a few ragged breaths. Her rant left her tired, collapsing back into her bed. "Wow, I mean, wow. Did you bottle all of that this whole time?" "Kinda? Not the irreparable bodily harm, that's a recent development. But the rest.” He slumped down next to her. It took King a while to choose his words, mulling over each of them. What is to say at a time like this? “You said you missed them before, your friends.” Twilight gave him a quizzing look. What an obvious question, with an even more obvious answer. “Yeah.” What an understatement. She wanted to forget it all. This planet, the humans, the smell of blood and smoke. The sound of dying creatures screaming. The realization that her life could never return to normal, even if she came back by some miracle. All of it. Her life, old life, that's all she wished for. Nothing more. “You wanna tell me about them? Like, the things you used to do together, everyday stuff?" She pondered that for a second. Where was he going with this? "How would that help?" "Old friend of mine told me once that by talking, telling stories about people that are no longer with us, we bring them back. However briefly. Your friends are out there, waiting for you, but remembering the good times? Maybe it will give you some peace of mind.” She could do that. There was nothing to lose. "I try.” But what story? There were so many, but she suddenly found her head deserted of ideas. Dessert. The one just a week before… all of this. "It began when my friend Pinkie made an entry for the Canterlot dessert competition…" *** "And then, she proved that the chefs eat each other's entries! She made them sound so delicious that they couldn't resist!" Both of them laughed. It was a good feeling. At first, she didn't get into the story, but over time, she found herself taken by nostalgia. "Seriously? That has to be made up. How do you even eat a whole chocolate moose so fast?” "That's how it happened! Pinkie promise." He gave her a puzzled look. "How do you… no wait, it's probably a translation error." "Ehm, anyway, it had a happy ending. They all banded together and won the competition." Twilight smiled. Princess Celestia certainly seemed to like it. "Well, that's nice. I bet Sun would pay to be there. His sweets need some work. But that's probably because he has to make sugar out of corn.” She remembered laughing when she had found her going back to take a sneaky bite out of the end product, then trying to deny it with a chunk of icing still on her muzzle. Celestia did always have a bit of a sweet tooth. And by a bit, she meant that she saw her devour entire cakes when she was a foal and had to be bribed by bedtime stories and extra magic lessons to not tell anypony as if she would ever tattletale on her favorite princess. Nopony would believe her anyway. “Do you feel any better, Spark?” Twilight realized that she did. The world, for a brief moment, didn't seem so dark and scary anymore. Her friends were out there. Waiting for her to return home. She would not disappoint them. "Yes, thank you. But can I ask a question? Why do you call me Sparky?" "Sorry, I can stop if you want. It's a long story. You see where I came from, there is this weird blood cult worshiping this Eduard guy from an ancient Terran book. Since meeting them, I can't take the word seriously.” A cult? Why would a cult around an old book ever ruin anything? "No, you don't need to. I was just curious.” “Well, anyway, can you walk? Sun wanted us all to meet in the Dinner. Discuss damage control. Are you up for it?" Twilight got up. Her legs were wobbly, but she was determined. "Yes, let's go." Chaos. Twilight saw the smoke rising. The base had been partially destroyed, buildings reduced to rubble and smoldering ruins. Lilith and Crown were only mostly successful in the attempt at subduing the inferno from reaching the meticulously sorted storage. About sixty percent successful, to be precise. The rest of the workshop burned to ash and iron slag. The dinner survived, alongside its sister building, the community house, unharmed. Remnants of ancient ruins proved to be unshaken by a little fire. Together with King, they limped in, leaning against each other for support, the tiny unicorn dwarfed by the human, both desperately trying to keep stable. Knight was there, sitting down, looking tired and holding a bag of ice to his head, which had a nasty bump on it. Lilith sat passed out next to him, long frazzled hair sprayed in all directions on the table. Crown lay on the floor but woke up when he heard them enter. He looked like a human rendition of zomponies from one of Spike's comic books. Finally, Sun arrived, battered and smiling, holding a platter of something smelling delicious and a bag over his back. “Sun, where the fuck were you?” said Crown tiredly. “After using the last of our glitter world medicine and losing consciousness, I went to my residence to get some rest. Sadly, it burned down. On the bright side, I baked some great taters and flatbread in the cinders. When life gives you lemons.” “Wait. your house burned down?” Knight raised an eyebrow.” Wasn't yours the ugly metal square?” “Yup.” “Metal, as in made entirely from steel.” “Yes, precisely.” “And it burned down?” “To ash. Gone.” “... The steel building?” “The very same. Also, I found the wave reward.” That seemed to garner everyone's attention. “Wave reward? Well, what was it?” With a flourish, Sun holstered a jute bag. “Twenty bags of the best, freshest-” he opened the bag as others leaned in to see “-corn.” There was a collective groan, mixed with colorful language coming from Knight. What colorful language exactly shall remain hidden, for I want to keep the teen rating. “So, in short, the last wave was a bust,” Sun declared. Knight shot him a look. “Nooo, a bust? Don't call it that. Call it for what it is. Fubar, up a shit creek without a paddle, totally majorly screwed. Straight up fucked. Far more descriptive of our situation, ain't it?” “Yeah, you would know all about that, would ya?” said Crown, glaring. “And what does that supposed to mean?” “I think you know very well, don't you, mister I forgot to close the gate so a bunch of explosive animals got out and lit the base on fucking fire!” Twilight had problems reading human emotions at the best of times. Their facial expressions were far less, well, expressive than the one of a pony. Pony would move their ears, color the sound of their voice with emotion, and pupils would dilate as a reaction. There were hundreds of little tells in a pony's body language, from hoof movement to the brows, and tails. But all easy to see. Visible. Humans had small eyes, and movement in their faces was minimal when compared to a pony. Body language was there, but many of the finer details were different. Some stayed the same, but became harder to spot. She had no problem like that now. Emotions ran high, they were tired, had little to no sleep and no warm beds to return to. Even Sun, who did his best to present a stoic front, could not hide his exhaustion. “Stop.” There was no yelling, no raising of voice from Sun Glory. One word was all it took. “Listen, this is not the time nor a place to argue. Mistakes were made, yes. Let's correct them, together. Make sure we won't make them again. Is that clear?” Both Crown and King murmured something not audible enough to be understandable. “Is that clear?” The twins nodded. “Good, now we need a plan of action. First, how did the mechs get behind us? Does anyone know?” Knight shrugged. “I got nothing. I heard something, turned and then shit went black. Mech nearly cracked my skull. I don't even wanna know how bad it would be without a helmet.” “Same here. I'm shooting the ones in the kill box, then blam! A box of ammo next to me explodes. Luckily, it was filled with the EMP slugs, so I only got some minor burns, but the shock knocked me out.” Lilith and Crown looked at each other, unable to look them in the eye. “We hid behind a rock.” “I wouldn't phrase it like that…” “We got shot at, had no cover, and were suppressed to hell, so we hid behind a rock and preyed. I even saw them coming, but you didn't hear me on account of all the gunfire going on.” “Why haven't you fired back?” asked King. “With what? A Molotov cocktail and an auto pistol? Over that distance? My friend, yelling and calling them socket fuckers would have a bigger chance of doing damage.” “I heard Knight scream,” Twilight said, turning the colonist's attention to her. “Saw the scyther and tried using my magic on it. Then it went after me.” She collected herself. They wanted a report, and she would give them a report. “I shot him, again and again. But my magic did nothing. So I grabbed Knight's shotgun and hit it with it. I didn't even register that I was cut, I just… hit it more.” Sun Glory put his real hand on her back. “It's okay Twilight, you did well. Better than most when faced with a mechanoid.” Knight took a piece of bread, chewing slowly. “We still don't know how they got in, Sun. Or from where they came from.” “I found steel slag out near the field." Lilith took a potato, juggling it in her hands while trying to talk. "I think that's where they drop podded.” “But why? The calendar-” Glory shook his head, interrupting King before he could finish the sentence. “The calendar is an unreliable source of information. The enemy got reinforcement. The waves are getting stronger, more crafty. “We need to prepare. The last few easy ones made us complacent. That ends now! “If we are unable to stop them from dropping down, we prepare for it. A secondary defense perimeter, to cover our backs. A smaller fortification inside the colony proper is needed. We have turrets ready, let's place some of them around the Going South.” King raised his hand “Ehm, where do you want to get the components for it? We had a shortage before and I used the last few for special ammo. Half the base burning down probably didn't help matters any.” Lilith nodded. "I also would like to point out that our solar panels were destroyed, the mechanoids smashed them. Without power, the lab is just a very clean room.” “Right." Sun Glory scratched his chin, the bionic fingers scraping against the steel jaw. The resounding sound was strangely pleasing. "The mechanoids themself are components galore, we just need to disassemble them. We can also reuse them from the destroyed buildings. For power, Crown, are you able to build a few chemfuel generators? Our stockpile of fuel should last us long enough for Lilith and Twilight to sort out the geothermal. Lastly, shelter. Most of the housing part of Going South has been destroyed. We will rebuild, out of non-flammable materials! We need to put stone cutting on a high priority. Until that's done, we will turn the community house back into barracks, for ammo storage we…” "Twilight, how are you doing?” Sun caught her outside, standing with hands behind his back. “Better than I thought I would,” she said honestly. The meeting was long, and she may have zoned out partially. The revelation that she would have to give up her bedroom so they could safely store explosives there been a bummer on her already fastly souring mood. “Glad to hear it I-” Sun interrupted himself, shifting uncomfortably. “Would you give me my sword back?” he said suddenly. It took Twilight a second to realize. She totally forgot about it. The hilt was stuck by her side by some unknown force, and it just seemed natural to take it with her. Glory's weapon had attachment issues. "Oh, sorry, I didn't realize I took it,” she gave him a sheepish look, it was not like her to forget something like a sword, even if the circumstance excused her. He waved her off. "That's understandable. Dawn has that effect on people." "Dawn?" He pointed at the sword. "That's her name, the chain swords. A real masterwork." "You named your weapon?" He shook his head and gave a shaky smile. "Eh, no, not really. Dawn decided for it more or less on her own." Decided? How could a machine decide? Was it something like the mechanoids? A golem, only a sword form? Why would anyone make something like this? "Are you telling me that it's alive?" There were plenty of stories about sentient magical artifacts. She herself wielded one but that's all they were. Stories. The elements were extremely powerful and could choose their wielders, but they had no will on their own. Did they? "She, and it's complicated. Dawn doesn't have a persona core, but she does have a strong psychic field. Mainly Dawn uses it to keep its users from harm, lessen pain, and whatnot. It can also be used to transmit emotions. Which she does have, confusingly enough. But that's probably an unintentional side effect." "How can a sword gain the ability to feel emotions unintentionally? The complexity of such a spell is well beyond anything I ever heard of." Human magic was confusing and contradictory. Not only did they not call magic, magic, but despite being mostly deprived of mystical energies, the ‘psychic’ artifacts she saw so far were all hyper-advanced magical constructs with abilities ages better than anything equestrian. The shield belt? A localized shielding spell, able to withstand high external pressures, filtering anything above a pre-defined speed. Completely immune to normal attempts at dispelling. Shield spells were normally only available to highly skilled unicorn casters, like her brother. With technology to mass-produce shields like that, the uses were endless. Glitterworld medicine? A literal cure-all, able to bring a pony from the brink of death, usable by anypony with the smallest capabilities and skill in the medicinal arts. And now a blade with its own magical field, capable of helping sustain the user and cutting through futuristic alloys with ease. A tool like that is a dream of any craftspony. And it could feel emotions? What kind of insanity was that? "Well, my theory is that it can only happen after the psychic field attunes to the user, first it starts as the ability to predict and read the wielder's emotional state and react to it accordingly. Then the psychically attuned weapon starts to display quirks in programming and it goes from there." "Are you trying to say that you can infect a sword with emotions?" She levitated the weapon towards him, and she would swear it moved on its own to his hand. Where it started purring like a cat. A content, slow noise as he holstered it. "Yes, but it takes a long time, and the sword has to have a latent psychic field. I had Dawn since my early… childhood, and it only started to display emotions a few years back. Or maybe it's the machine spirit Lilith talked about." "Didn't she say that they are just a figment of her people's imagination?” Could they be real? If a weapon could feel, why not other machines? It did not sound as far-fetched as before. Lilith used to talk to a spaceship. Dawn had emotions. She will have to apologize so much to her oven when she comes back, the thing never really recovered from her last cooking attempt. "Yup, doesn't stop her from praying to the spirit of burning bread when repairing my toaster. It worked, by the way, and I refuse to question it at this point.” Well, that was something to think about later. Or maybe not. She learned from Pinkie Pie that that's sometimes for the best. "I have another question. What's with the writing on the hilt?" Dawn's content, slow buzzing, halted. Sun's face became pale, his eyes gazing somewhere behind her. "Old reminder of what once was, what cannot be allowed again.” His voice was low as he spoke, and made Twilight take a step back. "Thanks for holding Dawn for me, goodnight,” he then turned and hurried away, Sun didn't make his way into the newly remade barracks that night. Returning to the community house again felt bitter. What has she done since her time there? Faint for three days, started to look like a pirate, and saved some corn? And the empty eye socket still itched something fierce! Unable to sleep, she got up and took a walk outside, taking care to not be too loud as she walked on the tiles barehooved. Standing outside, she tuckered the clothes closer to her fur. It was cold, but the view was worth it. The night sky was stunning. Thousands and thousands of bright stars and four moons lit it in a performance made not for a pony's gaze. A splotch of various colors was found among, like a bucket of rainbow paint spilled by a careless artist. It was at nights like these that she missed her telescope the most. "Pretty, aren't they?" Lilith sat on a blanket under the great tapestry as the lights danced above their heads. "Yeah," was all she managed. Twilight continued her stunned gaze. She saw them before, of course. The days were long on the Rimworld, but she found time when nopony was around on nights like these when she couldn't sleep, yet, it never ceases to amaze. Princess Luna might try to change her nights into a living and breathing painting, but she only had so much to work with. “It never gets old, does it? My whole life, I watched star chart after star chart. Pictures of what was outside, but pictures don't do them justice.” Scale. That is what made it so enthralling to Twilight. Knight told her that the human race scattered for thousands of years out there. Lilith's ships floated generations alone in the void. Home, her home. Equestria. A gem of blue and green. Somewhere. “I couldn't sleep,” she finally said. Lilith gave her a cordial nod.“Nightmares?” “No, King’s snoring.” Lilith chuckled and patted the ground next to her, and made some space for her on the blanket. So she sat down and got comfortable. “It's the eye… It itches and hurts, and I'm so tired, but I just cannot…feel right.” Lilith listened, her hand almost absentmindedly petting the pony. Twilight wanted to protest, but found the way Lilith gently stroked her back too nice. She would not give up magic ever, but having hands definitely had its advantages, “Do you want to see something?” offered Lilith, pointing at the colorful blob in the sky. “See in that nebula, the little specks of light?” “These little purple things?” “Those are newborn stars.” Stunned, she stared at them. They didn't look any more special than any other stars. But if it was true… Even the most modern telescope did see that far into Princess Luna's realm. A newly made star? She was the first pony to see such a miracle, maybe ever. How many of those first she collected so far? She wondered. First to talk to an alien, to see foreign stars and the sky, to sleep under them. First to die too, if she isn't careful. But that's not the truth, is it? The Equish writing, Sun's weird reaction… “Right now, in front of us, a star is being created, molded, and shaped out of nothing but gas and space dust. We are all like that. Creatures made of stardust. “See that big one? Flickering?” “That's a pulsar, a great neutron star. They are like a beacon, turning and only visible when facing us.” Twilight yawned. “I'm not boring you, am I?” “No!” she yawned again. “I like you talking. Would you continue, pretty please?” Lilith gave her a warm smile. “With pleasure.” It did not take long, and for the first time in days, while Lilith spun tales about galaxies and supernovas, Twilight Sparkle drifted into a peaceful sleep under the endless sea of stars.