It’s not every day that you get time to create a working, portable platform for a sound-based weapon. Especially one that harnesses the power of dubstep and transforms it into a ‘solid’ form when fired. I had ingeniously dubbed it the ‘Dubstep Gun.’ Yes, it wasn’t the most original of names, but I wasn’t about to go overboard with the acronyms to give it such a name. Perhaps I would reconsider if the weapon lived up its full potential.
If so, maybe the Wave Unification Beam or something of equal significance. After all, electronic music is superior to all other genres of music. Anyone else that disagreed with that simple fact was simply ignorant towards it.
But onto more serious issues. The Third Street Saints were getting very close to destroying the Syndicate, which was a very worrying issue for us all. Philippe had assumed that, since they sold out to be corporate millionaires, the Saints were going to be pushovers in terms of ‘extorting’ their money from them. Even after I’d drained their bank accounts of their money, they didn’t seemed deterred in the least. Just to echo my input from the last meeting with Killbane, Philippe, Viola, and Kiki - “Empty is no longer applicable.”
After their little stunt in Stillwater, which was actually one of the Morningstar’s banks, Philippe had stabbed and killed the leader’s second-in-command. I believe his name was Johnny Gat or something of the sort. From what I heard, he’s about as durable as one of those genetically cloned brutes created by the Morningstar and as strong as an ox. Possibly even more threatening than Killbane, if it was possible. If anything, the Saints were very persistent in achieving their goals. Unlike the Morningstar and the Luchadores, the Deckers were a lot more subtle in their work to attract less attention from the Steelport National Guard. Though, things are starting to become less subtle with the Saints around.
And now, I was quite frankly flustered over the latest edition of my favourite text adventure series, titled Dragons and Tears: Part Two of the Spiralling Darkness Trilogy.
...
What; an individual as talented and intelligent as myself can’t relax every once in a while?
The game itself was well-written and lacked any sort of obvious flaws. A masterpiece worthy of the original if I did say myself. But the section set in the Blighthollow Forest honestly had me puzzled.
I shook my head, ridding myself of any doubts and hit the enter key on my keyboard to continue.
‘You awaken from your slumber, finding yourself resting against the trunk of a tree. Your surroundings are that of a damp, dark forest. Your senses tell you that whatever is housed in this forestry is evil beyond anything you’ve encountered, a sense of dread welling up in your head. You hear the telltale signs of sorcery and redirect your attention to your right.
A tall, thin man wearing a royal-purple robe trimmed with gold stands in front of several jagged black stalagmites that block a barely visible trail. He clutches an ornately carved staff with one hand and is projecting a stream of restorative magic from his palm at the stone spires, slowly dissolving the unnatural blockade.
What do you do?’
Well, I’m obviously going to ask for help. No sense in wasting the opportunity for a potential ally at my side when the situation escalated.
‘Ask the sorcerer for help.’ I typed in.
‘You approach the sorcerer and ask for his help regarding the forest. The green beam from his hand ceases as he turns around. The hood on his robe keeps his face concealed but you can make out pointed ears and piercing yellow eyes. A dark elf, you note. Not the most trustworthy sort in Inamorta, but they were excellent magic-users.
“This path is the sole entrance and exit to this wretched place. It will take some time to dispel the curses binding these spires. They reek of dark magic, you see. It would be best if you didn’t wander off alone.” He says, his tone sounding as if it was full of wisdom.'
I leaned forward to type in a response when the screen bugged out and displayed an error message. My smile became a slight snarl as my fingers glided over the keyboard, furiously activating firewall after firewall to combat the would-be hacker. Someone had the audacity to hack me, Matt Miller? It couldn’t have been Agent Kensington. She was still under guard in that barge by my associates as far as I was concerned. No, whoever was attempting to test my talent had no idea who they were going up against. A novice, perhaps.
Before I could counteract with my own attack the error message disappeared and left me confused. Interesting that someone would employ the hit-and-run tactic, but it was less effective than it was worth. You could catch your opponent off-guard with the risk of potentially leaving them alert if you failed to hack into their system within the first ten seconds.
“Coward,” I muttered bitterly. “Didn’t even stay to finish it.”
I noticed that the scenario had been changed since the abrupt attack, a perplexed expression evident on my face. The only damage the hacker did was skip a few parts in my game, proving him as a sad excuse for a hacker. Oh, well.
‘The Dark Lord Enigmus stands across from you, a ball of dark magic festering in his hand. The mere sight of the conqueror makes you sick to your stomach as you ready yourself for a fierce battle. His peons lay broken and defeated at the feet of your allies, which is a clear sign that you will succeed in ridding the land of this evil tyrant.
What do you do?’
Wow. So the hacker skipped it to the end, did he? Spoilers, much? Oh well; at least I got to watch the Season Four premiere of Nyte Blayde quicker than I expected.
‘Draw out the mighty blade Nocturne,’ I typed triumphantly.
‘You reach for the scabbard upon your back and grip the hilt of Nocturne, practically feeling the mystical power of the blade pulsing through your arm. The blade makes a distinct scraping sound as you part the weapon from its sheath, grasping the hilt with your other hand as you bring it out to bear. Nocturne gleams in the natural light that pours through the palace’s windows as if imitating a weapon forged by the Thirty-one gods of Diaz.
It may as well have been, given the myths that surround the very weapon clutched in your gauntleted hands. Whatever doubts you have are erased by the sheer amount of power emanating off the weapon. You charge forth with the weapon raised, filled with zeal and confidence as you bear down on the Sorcerer-King. He is caught unready at your display of brute force, causing him to send the orb of black magic sailing off away from you and striking a column.
You swing the weapon wide, aiming to behead the horror that is this man with one swift slash. Enigmus teleports away with a puff of black smoke as you slice through thin air, cursing. Hot pain lances through your back as Enigmus launches yet another magic blast at you. Luckily, your steel plate armour absorbs the blast and keeps you from being incinerated.’
A phantom pain jolted me as I read that last part, feeling like a slight burning sensation. It felt strangely odd, even for a phantom pain that coincidently happened right after I had read the same pain happening to my fictional self. The pain subsided after a few moments, only to be replaced with a numb sensation that spread all over my body. A dulled pain rose in my skull as I staggered out of my chair, holding a hand to my head.
“Oh bugger,” I managed to get out before I collapsed onto the floor, unconscious.
After that completely unexpected and illogical event, I came to from my spontaneous bout of collapsing. I expected to be still collapsed on the floor but the blinding white that filled my vision when I opened my eyes proved otherwise. It was possible that my colleagues had discovered me on the floor and took me to the hospital, which was something any sane person would do if they saw someone’s prone form on the ground. The numb sensation had passed since then and was replaced by aches all over my body. The constant beeping of a heart monitor reassured that I was, in fact, in a hospital.
I blinked my eyes a few times to dispel the blur of colour that plagued my vision. The blur consisted of white, red, more white and blue. A mass of white, red and pink, which I assumed to be a doctor, moved to the centre of my vision.
“Are you alright, sir?” A soft female voice asked.
Correction. Nurse, not doctor.
“I don’t appear to be in any form of pain, although the painkillers that are most likely being pumped into my system may be negating that,” I replied honestly, still trying to force my eyes to focus. “Strange was the situation that put me in here, though. I swear I was in my office only moments ago when I passed out unexpectedly.”
The nurse giggled, the reason what for I was unsure of.
“Well, somepony did find you out cold in the Everfree Forest of all places. Were you practicing magic before the incident?”
Everfree Forest, magic, somepony? The painkillers must’ve been strong because I certainly did not just hear those things. Steelport lacks forests and magic doesn’t exist. I decided to protest against her statement to provide a momentary distraction until my vision returned.
“I’m afraid I don’t know how to use magic, nurse, nor does Steelport have a forest called ‘Everfree’. Would you care to explain that?”
“How can you not know magic? You’re a unicorn and, sorry if it seems stereotypical, your type uses magic every chance you get. And where is ‘Steelport’? I’ve never heard of such a place in Equestria.” The nurse seemed concerned, as if I was clearly mistaken on the fact that Steelport didn’t exist.
Okay, this was getting ridiculous. She was inferring that I, Matt Miller, was a unicorn. Clearly she didn’t deserve the right to be near me nor other patients with working power tools and other sharp instruments. I blinked one last time, and my vision heeded my need for it to clear. What I saw had me utterly confused and shocked. On the other side of my hospital bed was an equine. A white pony with a light pink mane wrapped into a bun under a nurse cap stared at me with concerned blue eyes. Most people in this situation would scream, yell, or generally handle the situation in a calm way.
“You’re an equine. One that’s sentient enough to possess thought and speech, no less. There is no possible way that the government hasn’t found you yet and dissected you like a high school biology class.” I said coolly, raising my arms to rub my eyes.
Instead of semi-pale hands, two grey hooves revealed themselves in my face. I stared at the foreign appendages for the longest time and looked back to the nurse, who gave me a strange look.
“May I have a mirror?”
“Of course…” She said slowly, trotting out of the room and leaving me to my own devices.
I looked down and saw that I was still wearing my jacket, personalised to fit my own preferences. Like any professional, I wore a tie, although slightly dull and bland compared to the rest of the jacket. Before I could speculate any further, the nurse came back with a handheld mirror in her teeth. While unhygienic, it was the only probable way of carrying items for an pony that was moving. She placed the mirror on my lap and backed away slightly. I reached down with my left hoof and managed to pick it up with ease. Even though it seemed impossible, I now held a mirror with a single-digit appendage.
Honestly, I was holding it with a hoof.
I brought the mirror up to my face hesitantly, expecting my face to be mutilated beyond comprehension. What I saw completely disproved that. My blue eyes were considerably larger, much like the nurse’s. I ran a hoof through my short raven-black mane. True to the nurse’s odd responses, a short, spiralling grey horn poked out from my forehead. Much like a equine’s, my ears had been yanked upward and broadened. I could also make out two of my light blue stud earrings pierced into my left ear.
“Interesting…” I mused, run my hoof through my mane once more. “This isn’t as problematic as I’d thought it’d be. Quite the opposite, really.”
“You’ve got some visitors. The same ponies who saved you, in fact,” The nurse said as I placed the mirror back on my lap, who gestured to the door.
“Could you send them in, then?”
“Certainly.” She gave a warm smile and left the room once more.
After mere moments two more unicorns came clopping in, mares judging by their physique. One had a snow-white coat and a purple mane that had obviously been styled elaborately and the other was purple with a purple mane, streaks of dark pink running through it.
“How are you feeling?” The purple mare asked, her voice carrying the same tone as the nurse.
“Spectacular, thank you for asking. After all, it isn’t every day you end up unconscious in a forest after literally having been in your office moments ago. I believe thanks are in order for picking up my prone form and taking me to the hospital. So, thank you both.”
That must have raised an alarm in the purple one’s head, because she responded just how I expected. “Were you practicing a teleportation spell before the incident? Because that’s the only reason I can come up why you went from an office to the Everfree.”
I shook my head in the negative and said, “No, I wasn’t. Even if I was, I wouldn’t know how to properly utilise magic. The chief factor being that my original body isn’t this one.” I gestured to myself.
“What do you mean, darling? You’re a unicorn, are you not?” The white unicorn said curiously. I could detect a trace of a British accent in her voice, something that reminded me of home.
“I am now, I’m afraid. My previous body was human, though.”
“Are you sure you haven’t been listening to Lyra’s ramblings about humans and you’re just imagining things?” The purple one cut in. “No offense meant to Lyra, but humans are just myths.”
“Twilight, have you heard this young stallion’s accent? It is quite obvious that he isn’t from Ponyville.” The white unicorn said to the purple unicorn who I assumed to be Twilight. She turned to me. “You wouldn’t happen to be from Trottingham, would you?”
“I believe the place you’re looking for is Nottingham, although this place may have towns and cities named after real-world places, only with a pun-based twist on the name. But no, I’m from England.” I edged myself out of the bed and landed on the marble floor with a soft ‘clop‘. “I never got your names, apart from Twilight here.”
“Oh, how rude of me. My name is Rarity, darling.” Said the white unicorn.
“And I’m Twilight Sparkle,” Added the purple mare. “What’s your name?”
“It’d be considerably easier if we worked on a first name basis, so you may call me Matt. My full name is Matt Miller. Quite easy to remember because it’s alliterative.” I introduced myself, running ideas on how to master quadrupedal movement as quickly as possible through my head, otherwise this was going to be somewhat irritating.
“Matt Miller?” Questioned Twilight, possibly refusing to accept the fact that I wasn’t what I appeared to be. “That’s a strange name, although it does roll off the tongue easier because of its alliterative nature.”
“Considering my name isn’t an unintentional shout-out to a terrible book-series-turned-dreadful-movie series, it’s perfectly normal.” I idly adjusted my tie as if to mask the fact that I had subtly insulted her. “But onto more important matters. It isn’t that often that people go venturing off into the forest just to rescue someone.”
“Oh that’s easy!” Twilight said, raising a hoof. “Rarity and I were searching for gems when we came across your prone body. Granted, it was a little disturbing to come across somepony’s motionless body. So we rushed you to the hospital and here you are!”
I nodded silently, going over the leg movements in my head one last time before putting it to the test. It didn’t talk long to get the hang of using four legs instead of two, but my movement was still a little shaky. Just as I headed for the door, I noticed a familiar object resting against the bedside table, a hybrid of a high tech camera/subwoofer combination.
“We found that with you in the Everfree, Matt. I assume it’s yours?” Twilight asked from behind me.
“Mm-hmm,” I hummed as I picked up the Dubstep Gun, running a hoof over its surface before slinging it onto my back.
“Pardon me if it may seem rude, but what is that?” Twilight gestured to the weapon slung on my back as I turned around.
“Just a little project I’ve been working on for a while,” I answered cryptically as I gestured to the door. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the locals nor the town. Would you care to show me around?”