Wired

by canonkiller

Trigger

Anastasia's eyes shot open. She sat up, the unfamiliar noise shattering her morning pattern. "M-Mom?" She yelled, panicking. "Mom!?"

"I'm here!" The door slammed open, and Anastasia flinched again, recoiling from the noise. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. What's going on?"

"There's a gunshot. Come along, let's open the window. Is that alright?" Her mother's hooves faded to what she assumed was the far wall, another unfamiliar noise entering as wind billowed in, flapping curtains she hadn't realized were there. "Oh no."

"Mom, what is it?" The Pegasus struggled to walk over, stumbling on debris not on her regular path. She felt her mother's wing brush her shoulder to guide her the rest of the way. "What is it?"

"It's..." Her voice hitched, another entry in a chain of abnormality. "It's your father."

"What about him?" She nearly screamed, her wings spreading as her anger grew. "For sunlight's sake, I can't see it!"

"He's been shot."

Feeling her eyes widen, she took an unsteady step onto the window-ledge and flapped her wings once, ready to begin a hasty descent. Her mother's hooves wrapped around her belly, her own wings beating instead. Wind billowed by as her mother dropped faster than Anastasia would ever dare, and within seconds they had all eight hooves firmly planted on the ground.

Of course, her mother cantered off to where she assumed her father was, and she was left lost on the street. Another pony, a colt by voice, led her over, a cautious wing against her shoulder. Once she could hear her mother's sobs, she broke away from the colt, stumbling over her hooves to keep from trampling anything.

"Honeydew?" Her fathers' voice, seldom heard. It was rich and full when he laughed, but now it was weak, faltering, unsure. Anastasia didn't like it. "Honeydew, is that you?"

"Yes." Her mother whispered, obviously leaning over him. "I'm here, Flash. I'm right here."

"Is Redheart here too?"

She didn't bother correcting him. "Yeah." Her voice sounded weak, fractured with emotions she didn't know she was feeling. "I'm here, Dad."

"Redheart, you need to know... need to know what's going on. The company, the Wiring, Red, they're planning something."

"Who? What?"

"It's going to break everything. It's why I'm dying, because I know, because I heard things." His voice had taken on a fervent energy, similar to when he talked of dreams and aspirations, with a panic underneath laced in blood. "You're in danger, Redheart, so I can't tell you everything."

"What can you tell me?!" She replied, growing angry at herself for not being able to do more.

She felt his gaze on her muzzle, could detect the smile in his voice, even as his breath sped and hitched and his heart pounded. "You'll find allies and enemies, inside and outside the city. But they aren't... not all of them... are..."

"Stay with me." She whispered, leaning towards him, resting her muzzle against his chest. Her chin grew damp as what she supposed was blood soaked in.

"...not what... they say they are."

And as her mothers' cries increased, her father's ceased to exist.

Leeway stumbled ahead, tumbling close to the edge of the roof. Crescent lunged forward, grabbing the nape of his neck as he fell. Within moments, Torch was beside her, helping her lug the racer back onto the roof.

She worked her jaws, trying to get the odd tingle from the Wiring bands out of her mouth. Despite having a near-death experience, Leeway grinned up from the concrete.

"Your mouth is all purple now." He grinned, pointing a hoof at the band her mouth had grazed.

Crescent frowned, trying to wipe it off with a hoof, only to have it spread. Ignoring the problem for the moment, she leaned over the building's edge.

A Pegasus stallion lay on the ground, a pale white coat spattered with red that matched his mane. The other racers appeared on the rooftops around, a haunting audience to a haunting occurrence. The dawn sprayed surreal pink light over the whole scene, giving a further dreamlike quality to the other two ponies arriving on the scene.

Crescent merely skimmed over the older mare - a pale cream with a dark orange mane, also Pegasus - and focused on the younger. By her appearance, she seemed to be their daughter, but something in her glazed red eyes made it hard for Crescent to determine her emotion. And, assuming that the blue colt who had just ran up and guided her with a wing was unfamiliar with her, she was blind.

Interesting.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Torch said, his voice so surprisingly low that it sounded like a growl. Crescent momentarily wondered why she'd never heard him speak.

"No." She admitted. "The shot's in the exact place where the shoulder blade ends, and before the sternum begins. Directly through a lung, and you hit heartflesh. If he's not going from injuries alone, he's going from hemorrhage."

"Hm." His ears pricked, flicking minimally to pick up as much noise as he could.

Unlike her pack, Crescent turned away, scanning the rooftops to gauge reactions. As she presumed, most were watching with the general morbid curiosity, as were some of the ponies below. Although...

Her eyes narrowed, focusing on a small, dark shape she didn't recognize. It glanced up as she watched it, meeting her eyes with a green glint. Pony. Scoped.

Without a word, Crescent jumped off of the building, her frail digital wings beating wildly to clear the gap. She touched down on the rooftops across, the shooter already fleeing. Adrenaline filled her veins as she fell into her racing state. Yells of fellow Changelings became nothing but her heartbeat in her ears, the rough scrape of her hooves on the cement and steel nothing but wind, her breath nothing but an afterthought.

She was gaining. Sharpshooters, when not classifying themselves as assassins, ran slow. Something her experience had yielded true on. With a furious chitter, she ended her last bound squarely on his shoulders, shoving him into the concrete.

She balanced as he skidded forward, blood smearing behind her victim. Fear and pain radiated from him as he desperately turned to face her.

Crescent brightened her Wiring, the bands of green seething into the dim light. Blue flashed under her eyes, and red swirls flamed up her neck. Three colors, a sign recognized everywhere as fame, as riches.

It did not lose any effect on the shooter.

He simply withered, curling in under her hooves. "Y-you're one of the Rainstreak Changelings, aren't you?"

She didn't grace him with a response. He knew full well.

"Crescent Rainstreak. Left to find her own pack after her brother became the leader." He was rambling, but since she wasn't killing him, it was probably all he could do. "Formed a racing pack here. Four members, five with her, with you, included. Banded blue for wisdom, green for speed and red for power."

Torch landed beside her, disdain showing through his eyes if not his expression. "You caught him."

"Yes." She blinked once, hiding her emotion from her prey. "Did you doubt it?"

"Not in the least." He dipped his head, grabbing the shooter by the neck and lifting him, jaws ready to clench at the first sign of struggle.

The killer went limp, whimpering.

Crescent grabbed his jacket and pulled it off, the limp fabric tasting of grease and dirt. Underneath, a series of metal rings covered the pony's chest and belly, obviously protection against return fire. A silver-shod hoof unlatched into a standard-level Cannonblast, the most readily available magical gun on the market. Crescent unclipped it, kicking it away with a glare at it's owner. With another buckle, the silver bands clattered away, revealing pale green fur. Other than the laser guide over one eye, the pony was completely naked.

"Drop him." Crescent commanded.

Torch rapidly withdrew, the shooter falling with a sickening thud. Crescent nodded, and Torch pushed him down onto the concrete.

"Name."

"C-Clover Cross."

"Age."

"Twenty."

"Gender."

"Male."

"Place of birth."

"Unicorn Range, Paintelsa."

"Reason."

He paused, as if he wasn't ready for this. Had she not been able to detect his honesty, she would have thought she'd found a hole in his alibi.

"Money."

"You were paid?"

"Yes."

"How much?"

"Two-hundred bits."

"On an equine life? What else?"

"Safety." He clapped his hooves over his mouth, staring up at her in fear. As she glared, he continued. "I'm immune to attack from the Whitewall and Shadowslice gangs."

"Oh. A gang problem." She looked up at Torch. "Release him. But don't let him leave."

The pony scrambled to his hooves, tail between his legs and ears pinned back. The poster child for terror.

"Let me tell you something you'll remember." She growled, taking a few steps closer. She was slightly taller than him, furthered by his hunched stance. "Whitewall is a bunch of pansies. One shot to any member and they'll all flee. Protection from them is like protection from a cloud. Shadowslice has power, but only on the Everfree circuit. Anywhere else, they're overpowered."

He whimpered, shrinking down under her furious stare.

"So, you may have enough bits to buy groceries for a month. Good for you. But let me tell you, the Rainstreak pack will be on your heels the whole time. And our fangs aren't false." She stepped back, Clover reduced to a quivering pile of horseflesh.

"Leeway, Raven," she flicked her tail, the small blue fringe on the bottom flashing their codes. They landed behind her within seconds. "Raven, notify the family below - the blind ivory and the cream - that the killer has been caught. Leeway, find the nearest law enforcement, and if you have to run to the Griffon Empire to find somepony then so be it."

The two fled, and Crescent kicked Clover's jacket towards him, taking the metal bands and Cannonblast for herself. The silver fit quite nicely, a worthwhile addition to her current armory. She bit down on the armor gently, a surge of bile rising in her throat as a bitter taste filled her mouth.

Iron; a killing weapon on any creature, regardless of age or species. Legend says iron could pierce the skin of an adult Alicorn, but the theory wasn't tested. However, it absorbed magic and most elemental attacks, and wasn't damaging through contact.

Regardless, she wondered how much trouble a pony could have gone through to outfit an amateur assassin. Iron wasn't even common on the black market, nor was it cheap. She decided she would smelt it. Her old battle claws were growing dull, and she needed a new tail blade. Armor wasn't much use to a Changeling, after all.

Of course, Clover did look a bit thin...

"Colt." He glanced up, fear flowing in new waves. "How are you financially?"

"I live on the streets."

"Family?"

"Wife and filly, living in one of... my employer's safeshouses."

"Get them out." She pried the bands apart with her hooves, careful not to break the edges too sharply. Out of the ten he had been wearing, she gave him three. "Take these and sell them to the highest payer. Iron isn't cheap, don't sell it for it." She paused, considering. "And if your employer tries to attack you, even after the deal, come to a Rainstreak. We'll... take care of the problem."

Leeway landed behind her with a thud, followed by a series of heavier landings as a group of Pegasi landed, a few carrying chariots with seated Unicorns.

"Take him away." Crescent said, stepping back. "Let him keep his metal. He's helpless anyway."

The guards obeyed, shoving him into one of the empty chariots. Magical bands snapped into existence around each foot, binding him to the chair. "Lady Crescent, is that..."

"Don't call me 'Lady', it's iron, we've discussed it." She kicked a hoof passively, and began the tedious repetition of Clover's information.

Spider flinched mid-swing, nearly dropping off the bar. Pumpernickel screamed, burying her head under her hooves. Without a moments' hesitation, he dropped to the ground, pulling the shivering foal into a hug.

"N-no... not..."

Sh," he ran his hooves over her mane, rocking her gently. "It's okay. You're okay, I'm okay, everyone's okay."

She looked up at him, tears running down her face. "B-but Mom and Dad..."

"They're in a better place now. It's always summer there, and it's just as warm as they want it to be. And every day they sit down and have a picnic lunch with the Princesses, and every night there are fireworks and shooting stars. And they smile, and laugh, and run, and they've never stopped loving you."

Despite the slowly-calming foal in his arms, Spider felt a spark of anger. This poor foal had lost everything after a robbery, and now some callous imbecile was shooting again. What if the victim had a family, a daughter like Pumpernickel to leave behind? What if she went to living on the streets too, taking up dangerous relay to pay for food, without the intervention of a passers-by? How many deaths would happen then?

"You're s-sure they still love me?" Pumpernickel whimpered, burrowing her face into her foster brothers' warm fur.

"I wouldn't doubt it for the world." He looked around, seeing nothing that could have made the noise, nothing he could pin it on. "Do you want to stay here for the night?"

She nodded, wiping her muzzle. "C-can we look at the stars first?"

"Of course."

Nox stumbled back, eyes spinning from the collision. He eyes the large icicle warily, testing it again with his nose. Wolf frowned back at him.

"Are you coming?"

Nox's ears pinned, dragon stubbornness rising. He took a few steps back, huffing and snorting, and charged full-on into the icicle.

"You realize this is getting you nowhere, right?"

"Honestly. You're going to knock yourself out."

"I'm not going to carry you if you do."

"I'm going to kick you the whole way."

"You'll help, right, Cinnamon?"

"Yep."

Wolf snorted, spinning and bucking the offending column. It splintered, crumbling into the snow as Nox watched. He frowned, glancing between the ice and Wolf.

"What?" Lone Wolf said, beginning to trot away again.

"How'd you do that so easily?"

"I'm an Earth Pony. Unlike you, my strongest weapon is my kick. Not my thick skull."

Nox frowned deeper, giving in and following his friend. "I weakened it for you."

"I'm sure you did."

The Reaver tilted its' head, eyes flashing in a mimic of a blink. "Are you done? We have an Empire to find."

Lone shook his head, trotting up beside the robot. "How much further do we have to go?"

Cinnamon immediately replied with a projected map, a small red dot moving towards a large, pale blue circle. "See, that's where we need to go, but floods and freezing changes the tunnels there all the time. Luckily, the Empire isn't too damaged. A minor shield spell was placed before it was encased, in theory so the ponies would live. The event around it was that Sombra, the Dark King, had returned, and the shield was meant to keep him out as they fought. But then he opened the ice, and bam! No more Crystal Ponies."

"Are there going to be ponies living there when we find it?" Lone questioned, watching the ever-nearing circle on the map.

"Probably not." Papers shuffled through the speaker, and Lone could almost imagine her cluttered desk. "Not much was known about Crystal Ponies, as they seemed to exist in very finite times; from the Birth of the Princesses to about... oh, about a year before the Eternal Night. There was no real 'science' at that time, and ponies assumed they'd be around forever. About a thousand years after that, they returned between the Release of Discord and the Ascension of Twilight Sparkle, and then Sombra returned and they haven't been seen since."

"They've been gone since the Ascension? Yeesh, even if they haven't starved to death, they'll be inbred to no end."

With nothing more than a laugh from Cinnamon, the three continued in general silence. Just as the map said the tunnel would open, they were met with the one thing none of them expected.

A dead end.

"What?!" Cinnamon yelled, the Reaver running up to the wall and examining it. "It's not the right time of year for walls to form!"

"We're in search of a semi-mythical empire full of gemstone ponies, trapped under miles of ice by an ancient dark power. Did you really think we wouldn't hit any problems?" Lone tapped the wall with a hoof, the ice sounding anything but breakable.

At which moment Nox screamed in a very feminine way and fell through the floor.

"Hey!" Lone spun around, pressing himself against the wall as cracks spider-webbed from the hole. Cinnamon planted the Reaver quite firmly into the ice with a set of spikes.

There was a heavy thud, and then the flap of leathery wings. Nox's head appeared through the floor, a cut above one eye but grinning. "I found it!"

"You're a genius!" Cinnamon cheered, picking her way over to the hole.

"You're a genius." Lone deadpanned, following.

Nox let Lone clamber onto his back before Cinnamon threw the Reaver into empty space. As the Kirin began a more cautious descent, the Reaver's white plates faded into the dark, and ended with an extremely loud and expensive-sounding crunch.

"Should we follow her?" Lone asked, squinting into the dark.

Nox's glowing eyes scanned the general area, and he shrugged. "She knows what her machines can do. It might have a dislocated wire or something, but she'll be fine. Remember, she is just a speaker on that thing."

"I guess." Lone folded his hooves, shifting his saddlebags. "Can you see through this?"

"Not any more than you. Too little light."

"How do you know we're not about to hit anything?"

He paused. "Maybe I can see a little better than you. We're almost at the ground."

Sure enough, the gleaming red eyes of the Reaver appeared in the dark, stopping in front of them to watch their descent. Even from the sky, they could hear Cinnamon hyperventilating.

"Guys - crystals - oh sun my lungs - crystals - so - many - ow - guys..."

Lone hopped off of Nox's back, trotting up to the Reaver. "Take a deep breath, Cinnamon. Wouldn't want you passing out."

"Again." Nox added. "Remember that time in the Amarezon?"

"I... full well remember... the Amarezon." She hissed. "We promised to never speak... of that again."

"Guys. Crystal Empire?" Wolf waved a hoof at the darkened surroundings.

The Reaver blinked. "Oh. Yes. Right. Oh, the light code is around here somewhere... no, no, no... ah! Here it is! Uhm... illuminábit semita pro amore!"

Torches hidden in the darkness burst into flames of green, pink, blue and yellow, racing down the revealed road like controlled wildfire. Lone stared up as columns of flame spiraled towards the ceiling, casting a brilliant light before solidifying into glowing crystal columns. The whole area shimmered and crackled brilliantly, before falling silent.

Cinnamon let out a small squee through the speaker.

"Welcome to the Crystal Empire!"