Frames of War

by Starscribe


Chapter 5: Canterlot

Catlin flew through the air, blasted back by the force of the strange infested's attack. Time seemed to slow around her, every sensation sharpening to a sword-point. The shimmering cavern walls, illuminated by the magic of her defenseless group. The low growling of the infested, mind lost to a virus meant to kill a different enemy.

If I don't do something, every one of them will die. These ponies had no respirators, no armor, nothing to protect them from the infestation. It would cut through them without resistance.

Catlin was not in a familiar body—but she didn't need to be. She had spent lifetimes at war now—lifetimes training to adapt to new tools whenever they appeared. If she could master Father Entrati's ancient necramechs, she could fight with a warframe.

Catlin spun in the air, bracing her legs behind her. Instead of bashing uselessly to the ground, she caught herself on the cavern wall, pushing upward in a wide arc. The attacking infested aimed upward at her, and there was another flash—but this time its aim was way off. It hadn't expected her to move so fast. They never did.

She caught herself near the ceiling, aiming the rifle without actually touching it. She didn't have hands, but apparently she didn't need them. She aimed for the head, and fired.

Bright blue glowed to life around the infested, eating the kinetic energy of her bullets and raining them down on the ground in front of her in a pattering of flattened lead.

Shields? How?

"You can't!" yelled a distant voice—one of the ponies, she wasn't sure which one. "We don't know who that is! You have to save them!"

Catlin glided back down, preparing to catch herself in a roll. She slid away from the infested, landing in a prowling position ready to move again.

It turned slowly to face her, and she didn't waste the time. She fired another few bursts, until the magazine clicked empty. She ejected out onto the floor, but had to roll out of the way as another flash cut through the air ahead of her.

Other sounds called out in the gloom—wails and howls and screams. None seemed remotely rational anymore, or whatever ‘normal’ meant for them. Those voices were frighteningly close, maybe just one cavern away. How can I fight so many?

Her last magazine clicked into place, and she pulled the trigger again. The creature's horn flickered, then the shield went out. Her next shots finally found their mark, and the creature fell, horn shattering into broken shards as it collapsed.

"It killed them!" yelled Dust Brush from behind them. "Professor, it murdered—" The voice trailed off.

Catlin could see why. The passage formed through bits of fabric and rotting rope. A dozen rotten shapes appeared there, each one of them infested in a slightly different way. She saw thick plates of chitin, more strange unicorns with oversized horns. Wispy, many-winged creatures gliding above the group.

Blood dripped from fangs, teeth, and spiny claws. Their eyes glowed, hungry.

"Dust, I don't think... we have the luxury of being judgmental about their conduct at this juncture."

They were retreating, back the way they'd come. Catlin barely even glanced behind her, but she could hear them. The ponies could go nowhere very quickly—if any of these infested slipped past her, they would kill even more ponies. 

Catlin backed away from the single fallen infested, lifting her weapon high. But this poorly modded Burston wasn't going to be enough to deal with so many. Let alone with a single magazine.

I can't save them, but I can save myself. Maybe I can find a way to trap the infested down here. Retreat was never something to be proud of. But Catlin wasn't even sure if she still existed outside this frame. If she died, that might be death for real. If she died, the infestation would fester, and could spill out of the caves once it consumed all it wanted.

She tensed, preparing to leap over the crowd, and out of the way.

The frame resisted. Instead of jumping, she stood stuck in place. The infested shambled closer, at least two dozen of them. Every one took a form she'd never seen.

We can't stay here! Dying doesn't help us! But her hooves wouldn’t move. A resolve filled her, almost as intense as the one that had ejected her from the last Umbral frame she'd used. But it wasn't throwing her out, it was...

She felt a sudden pressure against her forehead, power flooding through her. Otherworldly and strange, yes. But at the same time, Catlin had used most of the frames the Orokin had built. She knew what their powers felt like.

Heat exploded out from in front of her along with a flash of light, bright enough that it might've blinded her to be up so close if she had eyes. A thin line of light appeared before her, a lance stretching all the way to the cavern wall. It slashed across the cavern in front of her in an instant, cutting straight through the assembled masses.

As quickly as it came, it vanished, taking the frame's strange resistance with it.

But that didn't matter. It had already done enough.

The advancing mob of infested faltered, then flopped in half. Bright orange lines scarred the cavern on either side, and slicing straight along the wall behind them. Crystal bubbled and sloughed like glass, oozing down.

A few of the infested were still alive, at least enough to crawl towards her. Catlin advanced between them, aiming a few shots from the rifle into each one that still moved. Their agonized cries finally stilled, and the cavern was silent again.

Catlin finally returned the rifle to her shoulder, though she had less than half a magazine left to her now. It would soon be deadweight. She felt the familiar emptiness that came from exhausting her powers. It would take some time for the frame to recover from an attack like that.

But against enemies as weak as these, she had only needed one. 

She turned, returning to the little group of survivors she was escorting.

Needless to say, they didn't react well. One of them was already keeled over on the ground, throwing up. Not with fungal growth piercing his skin—there was no visible sign of infection anywhere. Apparently seeing the battle was enough.

Only Deep Silver managed to look anywhere near her face, though he still limped, resting on the splint. He watched her approach, eyes distant. She could've picked up the notebook to try and write something, maybe some simpler symbols...

But she resisted, and just settled onto her haunches to wait, ears alert. They had just lost friends. She would want some time to recover too.

"It killed them," said Alidade. "All of them. Just like that."

Catlin shook her head. She had no eyes, but some gestures were simple to communicate even without radio.

"Yeah?" asked the alien, spinning on her. His horn began to glow, and he took a few steps closer. "You're going to put them back together? How is the princess going to fix this now?"

Catlin pointed at a nearby patch of mushrooms and gently-waving infested fronds.  They had been wispy and thin leaving the derelict, but they were much denser here. The infestation had just consumed a feast of flesh, after all.

"We can't let this... it's a monster, Deep Silver! We can't let it make it to Canterlot!"

The older pony's shoulders slumped. "Alidade... how many ponies were in this camp?"

He hesitated, but not for long. It only took him a few moments to answer, surging with even greater passion. "Two dozen! Scientists, camp staff, guards..."

"Two dozen," Deep Silver interrupted. "That number is thirty-three, as it happens. I signed the royal requests for each one of them. I will have to pen the letters to their families. Thirty-three creatures that could not prevent what happened to them. What do you think would have happened if this... being... was not here?"

Alidade deflated. "We can't... we can't know for sure."

Deep Silver shook his head. "They attacked first, without hesitation. Just like the creatures trapped within the ruin. We can argue whether we think it would be better for all of us to be dead, and for the princess to be able to find some help for these others later... but we don't even know if it's possible."

Catlin shook her head again. You can treat the infestation before it consumes you. But once the mind goes, it's gone forever. There's no curing these.

"Of course they won’t admit it!" Alidade insisted. "We can't risk letting them escape, professor! We need to... to..."

"Attack them?" asked Dust. "Have you been watching them, Alidade? Leave me out of it. I hope you're listening, weird metal pony. I want nothing to do with fighting you!"

"We must..." Deep Silver made to stumble forward, then toppled to the ground. His words vanished into a string of curses. The others rushed to help him to his hooves, and he went on, more than a little strained. "We must warn Canterlot. This growth killed our expedition. It overcame royal guards and skilled ponies alike."

Finally he made it to where Catlin was standing. "You. You were inside that place. You saved us, though we do not know you. Were you put there to fight it? Is that your purpose?"

She nodded. It might not be exactly true, but it didn't feel like much of a lie. Not with as little as they could easily communicate.

"I thought so. A pity you did not find Ruby River, before those monsters did. I'm guessing she would still be with us now, too. That would be one fewer family broken by all this.

His words were enough to stir that other presence back to attention. It watched from behind her eyes, attentive but hibernating.

"We must reach Canterlot," Deep Silver said. "With luck, we can get there before this corruption spreads. They need to be warned."

But however important that trip might be, it wasn't one they could make with particular speed. They passed through the overgrown camp, with her companions walking as far away from the fallen corpses as they could. Considering how infected that blood would still be, and how likely it was they had open wounds of their own, she could only be grateful.

She felt little from the frame she used during the walk back—the loss of so many people she had likely known wasn't something even a strong soul could just shrug off.

But the ponies were strong through it, strong enough to keep walking.

The staggering geological beauty of the cavern faded to the back of Catlin's perception now, after seeing how easily the infestation had spread here. Maybe it was worth giving up some pretty crystals in the bombardment, if it meant that no more of these adorable little creatures had to die.

They had to stop more than once along the way, while her companions drank desperately from clear streams trickling through the rock. She hadn't let them take anything from the camp. Even visibly clean objects might've been dusted with spores that would sprout as soon as ingested.

Their hike was upward, always upward, which made the water they drank likely safe. She hadn't brought her Parazon, so she couldn't run any tests herself.

What I wouldn't give to hear your annoying voice right now, Ordis. You could joke about washing blood off for the tenth time today, and I'd listen over and over if it meant I could bring some real gear.

But Ordis couldn't hear her. She called a few more times with her radio, but no one answered. There wasn't even static to suggest other transmissions happening around her.

There was some good news. Catlin watched the cavern closely, listening every second for more signs of escaped infestation, but she heard nothing. After hiking about ten minutes from the fallen camp, she saw no more sign of its spread.

Eventually, after a climb that felt like forever, they reached an oversized metal cage, suspended by steel cable. They loaded up inside, and one of the ponies engaged a lever. They began to rise, lifted up towards the ceiling with a steady metallic whine.

Don't you worry, horses. As soon as I'm out in the open, I'll call for help. We'll find a way to stop this before it gets out of control.