//------------------------------// // The colour of my old habits // Story: Six-headed: Calcination // by SirEdgen //------------------------------// I'm walking down a long corridor, full of dim red light. Of all the entrances to my dwelling, this one is by far my favorite. The front doors lead to the large square that used to be the center of the whole complex, another entrance opens directly into the network of workers' apartments. I hardly use the second one - there are no necessary things left there, there have never been any interesting ones either. From there I have access to metro system, but with no trains, I hardly see any point of going there. Not that I want to travel anywhere, anyway. The frontal entrance even after these three years gets on my nerves - before this land was transformed into the hungry metal marsh, it had been the only place I could call home. Now, all I have left is one endless ever-present colour and a small room in an abandoned factory located in a remote deserted town-complex. May just as well stop using this word at all. The corridor I'm walking down now is underground. The light was not always red - a year ago, the underground area's GenExGal broke down. If a thing that is ultimately guaranteed to not to break breaks, who's going to fix it? Definitely not me. I can do many things with the right tools. But there is a difference between re-tightening some loose bolts and trying to figure out the workings of a top technology box the size of a computer processor that can power an entire city block without recharging for decades. Even more strange is that less modern emergency generator worked - which, in theory, shouldn’t even be here. I won't complain - without it I would have to walk half a mile in absolute darkness twice a day, and the modest width of the corridor was great for spurring my ever-growing claustrophobia. Now, however, I was concerned not with annoying light and seemingly crushing walls. Just now, I’ve made it to the end. Usually took me about five minutes of a leisurely walk. This time, it was less than one. Of course, I like to go on autopilot and completely immerse myself in my own thoughts, but now time has passed too quickly. Something is… wrong. I close the door to the corridor behind me and start up the stairs. A few more steps and I'm finally in my dwelling. Dwelling, abode, den. Whatever do you call that. Not home. No more eye-tearing red for me. This particular part of the factory used to be manager wing, so it had larger living space, complete with kitchen and relatively fancy bathroom. It took a lot of work to get the couch and bookshelves in here, but I have too much time to complain. Although my attention is focused on the bookshelf containing my current books of interest, the changes in my dwelling don’t escape me. One of the walls is longer than usual, non-Euclidean style; the entrance to the kitchen has turned into an incomprehensible dark blue bas-relief. Yes, there is definitely something wrong with my mind. I pick up the book I was reading last night. It's a massive green and brown tome – the Great Encyclopedia of the flora of this hemisphere. On the same shelf are books on zoology, geology, cultures of various countries... I guess this is my desperate attempt to remember the “old” world. I hope that I will not live to see the moment when I open these books again and be surprised at what I see. Well, it’s time to check if I’m dreaming or hallucinating. I bet on the first one – everything around is just too blurry. Sadly, the lucid-like nature of such dream may be a sign that I’m in a coma… Although I’m pretty sure there is no reason for me to end up like this – I don’t have any special medical conditions and don’t do anything risky to get a trauma. Come to think of it, around five or six years ago I used to train myself to have lucid dreams, but never succeeded. Don’t know if it is ironic, but still hate it. Finally, I break from my thoughts, take a deep breath and open the volume on a random page. As I expected, in the place of normal text and illustrations, I see floating grey patterns. I am dreaming. However, why is the dream about my dwelling? Usually I have nightmares or abstract tasteless nonsense. On very rare occasions I have dreams about my past. Being able to relive my most precious moments…usually, after such dreams I even go to the far parts of the town-complex to search for some rare or fancy food, along with a new book or a movie. These are indeed happy times worthy of celebration, until I remember that I get excited over bits of my distant past that will never, ever return. Can’t even replicate them, in this brand new grey world. I look closely at the patterns, and they begin to take on familiar shapes. Yes, I saw this wavy ring just recently...In the sky…Up-close…Oh yes, I was falling from the sky without any reason whatsoever. Should be more troubled by that, but… To be fair, when I think about the outcome of this fall, I’m not bothered in the slightest. Did I end up crashing and now lie and see random moments of my life? Maybe I’ve survived and… here we go, that might confirm the coma theory. Or am I in some sort of purgatory? No… It’s neither of those things. I have a dream about my dwelling, because I will never see it again. I was saved by the peculiar inhabitant of this world where I am now. The loss, admittedly, is not the greatest, and it’s pointless to spend time feeling sorry for myself or worrying about sudden changes while in a dream. Well, that means it's time to wake up. Again, should be bothered more with this whole thing. But in the end I’ll wake up and my first thought will be the same one that I have each time I wake up for the last five years. I wake up in the rather spacious room – spacious by this world’s standards. It appears that they gave me the room for large-sized foreign ambassadors, but the bed is still slightly smaller than needed. Not that I need a bed – my trusty carrying bag got dragged here with me. It is made of fabric that can be stretched to increase bag’s volume up to three times, so I can use it as a backpack or sleeping bag. Also, this fabric is very durable and can recognize what exactly is in the bag, and depending on this, keep contents cold or warm – my clothes have these qualities too. Thankfully, in my bag there were also some basic hygiene items, which as well could have been considered borderline magical just fifteen years ago in my world. It is early morning, if I can judge by the sun. Sun… Come to think of it, the idea of measuring time by the sun or and generally depending on it is rather abhorrent. And this sky, so sickeningly wide and shamelessly blue… Wow, I must stop. It's only been three years. It can't be that I'm so unaccustomed to the normal sky. Right in the a middle of my morning exercise someone knocks at the door. Oh, I guess I should start saying “somepony”. The local guardsmen… guardponies were actually very helpful with teaching me some customs of their culture. The biggest one was about the word “horse”, which is considered an insult here. Thankfully, a sudden (and unusual for me) flash of intuition urged me to refer to inhabitants of this country as "ponies". I can’t imagine how bad and painful it would be to call my newest acquaintances “horses”. I open the door to see a serious looking stallion of some brownish colour and in “sun” armor. This most likely means that one of the rulers of this country, Equestria, Princess Celestia, wishes to speak to me. That one part confuses me greatly. Both she and her sister, Princess Luna, are so… kind. Too kind to be the rulers of the most prosperous land in their world. Princess Luna was the one who had saved me from certain death. She took time to ensure that I was alright and personally oversaw that I got the best meal and the best guest room. It wasn’t all that good though. I think she has some sort of ability to read thoughts – despite being very busy, she took her time to talk to me about the value of my life, and how I shouldn't take deadly dangers so lightly. I did my best to sound as convincing as possible and assured the princess that I had never had any thoughts of... hurting myself in any way. I hope she bought it. Once Princess Luna headed to rest, Princess Celestia took her place. Our time together consisted primarily of discussing circumstances of my incident and finding ways to take me back to my world. She mentioned some mirrors, which apparently couldn’t help me, and invited top magic-users as well as other specialists. Oh yes, yet another crucially important detail about this world, yet again criminally underrated by my judgment. My first thought of the day still lingers, ever-relevant. I was forced to answer hundreds of questions about traits of my planet and dimension (whatever that means), constellations visible from our sky (too late for that, sorry) and other things. Today I meet with them too, but I suspect that they are now just curious about my world. I have to take extra caution to not to reveal any… ambiguous details about Terra. Terra… the place that I’m almost certainly won’t see ever again. Despite all the awkwardness of the situation, I must admit that I feel almost not terrible. All this talk, all these new faces, or whatever the face of the pony is called, all this attention… I know that for some weird reason all these ponies actually care about me. Usually I take great pains to understand if someone is sincere with me. “Good morning, sir. Princess Celestia awaits you for breakfast. Do you need something before we go?” I give him my medium-friendly smile and shake my head. I really like these guard guys. Always all about their job, I don’t have to fear about chit-chats or idle talk or friendly banter. By the way, it's crazy that I still have some conversation skills left, after all this time. I still remember how to smile and how exactly wide the smile should be in different situations. I remember to hold my tongue and speak as little as possible to not to upset someone by accident. And my most precious skill... I arrive just in time to meet both princesses in the dining hall. "Good morning, Celestia. Good morning, Luna. Have a nice breakfast!" I cringe internally while they greet me in return. This is by far the toughest challenge. They both insist that I call them just by names, without any titles. While literally everyone else does opposite. Why would I call someone so powerful and important just by name? This really robs the wrong way. And if I try adding "Princess", they will definitely get angry or upset, whichever is worse. I distract myself from these thoughts by admiring my ideal "greeting the more important person them me" moveset. When I enter the room, I lower my head, shoulders and eyes to show that I don't feel like the most dominant one in the room. But I do that only for a few seconds - to show that I respect them, not fear. However, they clearly aren't fully comfortable with this for some reason - that confuses me. This way of greeting was developed and polished by me thanks to all books about animals I've read. With nearly non-existent ability to understand body language of my brethren, I thought that mimicking animals would do the trick. It should be more effective here, due to Equestria natives'... nature. Well, at least I'm not hurting them in any way. I bow my head one more time to the guard, showing him appreciation for his work, and join the table. At the same time exhausted-looking Luna with a plate full of pancakes and fruits head to the doors, wishing me and her sister a good day. I stare at my plate, full of the same food. Celestia cooked and served all of it by herself, by the way. Yet another stab in my composure. How should I react to this sort of kindness? While Celestia and I eat, we have a brief discussion of her today's plans for me. After my second meeting with the wise ponies, I'm having a small interview with the press - to get other ponies accustomed to me. A good move from her, another session of pain for me. And after that - the most terrible part. A dinner with ponies called "the bearers of the Elements of Harmony". "I'm sure you'll become friends with them in no time at all. I'm truly sorry that we haven't found the way for you to go back to your world - yet - but I have no doubt that Twilight and her friends can show you can feel yourself here, in our Equestria, at home." I thank her with another smile, now high-friendly. ... At home... Home... Why I'm almost feeling angry when I hear this word? Almost. But in the end, the very same thought crosses my mind. With another one, that eluded me for years. I really don't care. I just wish to be alone once more.