Honor the Dead
by BinaryTroll
Pre-read by a Nobody. Named Roxas.
Chapter 15: “I couldn't think of a good name for this chapter. Sue me.”
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I pressed in the button on my earpiece. “Hey Dan. I need any form of drinkable alcohol as fast as possible. That will be all.”
The earpiece crackled. Presumably that was Dan laughing. “I can be there in a minute or two. I'm currently shipping about five tonnes of vodka so I'll see you soon.”
“Righto.” The earpiece fell silent.
I looked silently around the room. Joel coughed quietly. I hummed a bit of a random song. Joel glared at me. All was silent again. I glanced at a non-existent watch. My mind processed that. I slapped myself. Joel didn't even blink.
I heard the faint roar of that familiar jet engine. “There we go.”
I stepped back outside into the destruction of just a few minutes earlier. Jesus, it felt like hours. Zippo was still lying on the ground, his head coated in blood. The purple dragon had left, just a small red stain where he had been. Blue's eyes had been completely ripped out by Joel's shot, they lay on the stone a few meters away. And of course, Dan's VTOL hovered above it all.
The cockpit opened and Dan tossed out a small case of bottles. “Sorry I can't stay and chat, but I got a delivery to make!” He shouted over the roar of the engine.
I saluted him as the cockpit closed and the jet blasted off. Jesus that thing was fast, it was out of sight in just a few seconds. The combination of the sun and the reflective paint job made it look like it flashed away.
The bottles clinked together as I sat them on the ground next to Shyv (who was conscious again). “Alright, this stuff is really potent. So for the love of god...” She downed one of the bottles in a single gulp. “Don't drink it it all at once.” I sighed.
“Feeling any better?” Joel asked, popping the cap off one of the remaining bottles.
A tiny smile crept onto Shyv's face as she uncorked another bottle with her teeth. She took a long pull. “Yeah. But it tastes kinda bitter though.”
I reached out my hand for the bottle. “Shyv, as I said, this stuff is very potent. You've had enough.”
She giggled and scooted away. “No I haven't. I'm fine.”
“Why did I not see this coming?” I muttered.
“Cause you're an idiot?” Joel asked sarcastically and a little too loudly.
“Goddamn it Joel.” I sighed. “Alright you two, just stay still. Don't talk.”
“Stop being such a grump.” Shyv levitated a bottle up to my face. “Have some, it can't hurt.”
“Actually It can.” I said, swatting the bottle away. “Alcohol isn't particularly good for you.”
She shoved the bottle into my hand. “Stop being a spoilsport. Lighten up.”
“Ugh. The only reason why you're like this is because I needed you to lighten up.” I muttered, lifting the bottle to my lips but not drinking. “Unfortunately, it worked.”
Shyv looked at me with disappointment. “Come on, drink!”
When I didn't, she levitated the liquid out of the bottle and forced it down my throat.
After I had finished choking, I glared at Shyv. “You could of killed me.”
She took a swig from a third bottle before replying. “So? You've risked your life multiple times recently, I doubt that was anywhere near-” Shyv hiccuped. “the most dangerous thing you've ever done.”
“Yeah.” I coughed. “But I don't really think that it helps me much either.”
“You'll be fine!” Joel practically shouted, standing on his head for no particular reason.
I looked from Shyv's hopeful face to Joel's red one. “Ah fuck it. I've always wondered what it's like to be drunk. I mean, we're in the middle of nowhere. What could go wrong?” I sipped a small amount of the vodka and coughed. “That's disgusting.”
“It gets better the more you drink.” Shyv said, lying back on the couch.
Joel finally lost balance and fell over onto the floor with a meaty crunch. “Ow.” He muttered, stumbling to his feet.
I sighed and tilted my head back, sculling the entire bottle. Maybe I'll pass out and not have to die of embarrassment.
Your wish has been granted
I sighed and flopped onto my bed. The sun's light filtered through some of the small holes made by the claws of the numerous failed assassins. Tartarus, this is tiring. I smiled. Probably something to do with me not sleeping properly for a year. You'd think being the caretaker of the night would allow you to sleep really well. But of course I need to take care of the many nightmares of the world while I sleep.
I yawned and closed my eyes. At least my body gets some rest. With all this chaos I almost wish I could go back to the moon. Almost.
The familiar white abyss of the dreamscape opened up in front of me. A few random dreams passed by. I ignored them, I was looking for something specific. Where was that human?
For a while I wandered around in the quiet of the dreamscape, looking for any severe nightmares. Fortunately there were none. Just the usual run of the mill things, fear of heights, fear of a crowd, fear of the headless pony, fear of knives with my cutiemark on them, fear of... wait what?
I turned around and floated the dream over to me. It depicted a knife similar in shape to Bad Bertha, but larger. It was a dark blue that matched the color of my coat, complete with cutiemark. Well I was looking for something different, this counts right?
I carefully created a entryway into the dream and flew through it.
As usual the dream formed around me, spreading out from under my no longer ethereal hooves. My vision adjusted to fit the darkness and I looked around. I was in a small room. There was a window that looked directly out onto the full moon, a bed with a pattern of stars running along it, a painting of a bat eating an apple, some random shelves and a small glowing rectangle that sat on a desk.
Somepony, or rather, someone was sitting at the desk, making constantly clicking sounds and fooling around with something sitting on top. I quietly trotted over to the only life in the room and stared at the glowing rectangle. Human writing scrolled across the rectangle, the individual letters appearing and disappearing in time with the clicking.
“What's this?” I asked the human sitting in the chair.
“FUCK ME!” He spun around in the chair, breathing heavily. “Goddamn it Luna, get out of my dream.”
I ignored his request and pointed a hoof at the glowing rectangle. “What's this? What does it do?”
The human sighed and spun back to face the rectangle. “This is a computer screen. It's used for science and other random human crap. Like porn. Of course. If you don't know what porn is, I'd recommend not asking. I'm really not in the mood for explaining it right now.”
I sat down next to the human and stared at the screen. “What are you doing?”
“It's a dream, I honestly have no idea.” The human clicked his fingers and the screen expanded and wrapped around us. “Probably something useless and random. That's all I ever do on computers.”
The human hummed a tune that I didn't recognize as the screen became the room we stood in. He swung his arms right and the room changed. The lines of text disappeared, they were instead replaced by a picture of... me? “Is that-?”
“Yeah, that'd be you in a nice glowy aesthetic. Sue me. It's looks cool.” The human floated around, his eyes tracing over an arrangement of small pictures that dotted the background. He selected one that looked like a piston and flew over to it. “Alright Luna, I have a question.”
I shifted back into my ethereal form and floated up next to him. “I'll answer it if you answer mine.”
The human smiled. “And that's why you're my favorite. Alright then, what?”
I ignored the favorite comment, I'd given up understanding humans shortly after I met Johnson. “What's your name?”
“Wait. I haven't told you my name?”
“No.”
The human lowered his face into his hands and muttered something that sounded like “this is why I don't do social stuff.” He sighed and said “My name is Edward. But you don't have to call me that. It's not like anyone ever does anyway.”
“I shall call you Edward then.”
“That's a nice change.” Edward said, floating upside down. “So, my question. Do you like games?”
I remembered the latest nightmare night, bobbing for apples and spider throwing.“Of course.”
Edward summoned a large white arrow into his hand and threw it at the picture. “Then lets have some fun.”
Above us another box popped into existence. It was a dark gray with lighter gray writing that said 'Connecting to steam account BinaryTroll...' After a few seconds it expanded and changed. A list of words ran down the left hand side in a thin column. On the right, a picture with more words plastered on it appeared. Edward threw the arrow at one of the names on the left hand column. The world turned black, save for the floating human.
Creepy music played and what appeared to be a bald human appeared. He had had a steam valve on the back of his head and was accompanied by the word 'Valve'. Edward slashed his hand frantically and the picture disappeared.
“Oh god. I hate that. It gives me the creeps.”
“Whats wrong with it?” I asked.
“The guy starts turning around. I'll never forgive Valve for that. I swear they do it on purpose.” Edward said, scowling.
Some other pictures popped up and disappeared too quickly for me to read. Finally the screen settled on on a picture of a thin human wearing a cap and brandishing a silver club. He was dressed in blue and looked rather smug. Edward ignored the picture and instead focused on the buttons on our left. He picked one and a gray box filled with more writing came up. The human almost instantly picked a line of text and pressed the button labeled 'connect'.
Three doors appeared in front of me. One red, one blue and a brown one labeled 'Random'. Edward ran through the blue one. I followed his lead and the dream went black again.
Yet another image came up. This one was of a very heavyset man who sported a massive gun. A box of text appeared to my right, presumably describing the man. Edward was nowhere to be seen.
“Alright Luna, pick a character to play as. They're the ones at the top.” His voice said, seemingly coming from all around.
I studied the list of characters. Nine humans stood in a line, each divided into three groups of three. The man from thin man was in the group 'offense' along with a man with a box with a helmet that fell over his eyes and a man entirely covered in a suit. The second group was labeled 'defense' and contained the heavyset man, a man with an eye patch and a man wearing sunglasses and a hardhat. The final group was called support and had a man with a sniper rifle and a large hat, a man with a white duster and glasses and finally a man in a suit wearing a balaclava and holding an odd knife.
I floated up to the thin man who appeared to be called scout and pressed the picture with an ethereal hoof.
My vision went black.