//------------------------------// // Chapter Two: Shadows // Story: Ducenti Septuaginta Septem // by Capacitor //------------------------------// Part One: The Prophecy, The Princess and The Portal Chapter Two: Shadows [Equestria, Everfree Castle; 21st of Thaw in the year 489 before Nightmare Moon] While the smoke was clearing away, the princess tried to recall what had just happened. The ritual had been successful, the dimensional gate had opened. Then this monstrous Thing had shown up, causing the whole set-up to explode. She looked at the pitiful remains of the magic circle. At its centre, where the portal had been just minutes ago, was a smouldering crater. The candles had all gone out, some had been toppled by the arcane surges. Glistering rime and iridescent smears of some unknown condensate had formed along the edges of the etched runes and lines. A large, jagged crack in the floor split the octagon into two unequal halves. Above it floated a formless shape of dark vapour and shadows. Waning and fading, it was a mass of writhing tendrils of darkness on the brink between there and not. Yet set into the ethereal being's central bulk were two eyes like pieces of white-hot burning coal. It stared at the alicorn as if it wanted to count every single hair in her coat, making her feel naked, though not like she was not wearing anything, which was the case, but like her skin was translucent, exposing everything inside her to the relentless stare of this shadow. “Apparently, The Procedure Was Just Partly Successful,” it remarked in a silent, echoing voice. “Something Tried To Avert My Arrival.” “Are you—?” she gasped. “Indeed. Given These Circumstances, I Am Unable To Exert A Sufficient Amount Of Power. I Will Have To Be Amplified.” “But how...? What—?” “Simple. Possession. I Only Require A Suitable Host.” “Are... are you Him who we intended to summon?” At last, the princess managed to form a proper question. “I Am—And I Seem To Have Forgotten How Slow Mortals React In Intense Situations. Let Me Explain The Course Of Events.” It contorted, pulsed in irritation. “A Being Of Power, Which I Already Have Identified, Has Prevented Me From Physically Entering This Dimension. However, This Embodiment Of My Will Has Passed The Gate Or, Rather, Formed Past The Gate. In Order To Gain Enough Power To Find A Way To Create A Rift Sufficiently Stable For Me To Enter Equestria In Full Power, I Will Take Over Somepony's Body And Capabilities. As A Matter Of Fact, You Are Just Optimal.” The umbral manifestation wafted, stretching across the room in long, thick streams of darkness, quickly reaching and engulfing her. Before she could react, the semi-material being seeped into her and for a second the cold dread she felt was replaced with a feeling of immense power pulsing through her veins and oozing through her flesh. Burning determination filled her heart, and a veil lifted in her mind, opening up ways of thought never tread before. Confidence expanded in her chest, jubilant and triumphant like a phoenix rising from the ashes. Then the wonderful feeling was gone, and a second presence unravelled inside her head. With new-found terror she watched and felt how a mind utterly different from hers pushed her self aside with its psychic weight, took control of her muscles and raised her head. Oddly enough, the presence felt somehow familiar. She mentally trembled with realization. Him... the portal... the thing... it all makes sense now. How could I not see this? Although she had always been wondering about the true nature of the strange being that had so unexpectedly offered His help, she had not expected anything like this. When He first contacted her, He had dismissed any question about who or what He was, stating He was 'Beyond Such Simple Terms' and it shouldn't concern her. It was hard to get used to the thought she had relied so much on an unspeakable alien, even if desperation had fuelled her actions. And now He had, without apparent effort, taken control of her. The mind that was not hers convulsed forcefully, spewing out an endless string of abstract memetic constructs that circulated through her body, gathering omnipresent traces of what seemed to be magic. Through a taxing and quite unpleasant process, He extracted magic from her, her magic. As it flowed into Him, He formed it into a complex pattern while intermingling it with his own, processing it into odd forms. The strange shape grew as He added more and more energy. When the completely imaginary structure began to move on its own, He propelled it outwards and she suddenly understood it was a spell, but unlike any that she knew. Her head burned like it was filled with fire as the foreign magic pulsed through it and, at last, exited. A thick, pulsating beam of magic erupted from her horn, piercing the ceiling and the heavens. For a few seconds it hung between the earth and the sky, a swirling pillar of light. Then it widened, bright magic flooding everything. The world went white for a moment, then the light faded. 'A Dislocation Spell,' He explained. 'It Prevents Ponies From Tracking Us Down Using The Thaumic Fallout From The Portal Breakdown By Simply Causing Widespread Noise. However, The Hybrid Magic Will Have Been Sensed By All Magic Users Within Approximately 1432.4 Kilometres, With, At Some Points, Up To 141.3 Kilometres Deviation Due To Difference In The Local Magical Field. This Means That About 98% Of All Sentient Magical Creatures In The Vicinity Know I Cast This Spell And You Aided Me.' Still somewhat confused, she asked, voice full of doubt, “But they won't find us, right? Whoever prevented you from entering won't be able to track you and, by extension, me, down.” 'For The Moment, At Least,', the Alien One replied. 'We Will Still Be Found, Probably In Less Than Three Days, But I Should Have Bought Us Enough Time.' She remained puzzled. “Time for what?” 'Time For A Plan To Be Made.' He communicated the telepathic equivalent of smirking. The princess found the notion of an extradimensional being's mind feeling as if it was smirking while being encased in her very skull rather odd, if not downright disturbing. 'Nonetheless, I Do Require More Information. I Will Need Full Access To Your Memory.' She hesitated slightly, but since reason told her it was really not a good idea to fight with somepony living next to her brain, she opened to Him and let Him access everything she knew. A pony's memory might be comparable to a book. At one point it begins and then goes chronologically on and on with a varying density of content until it finally reaches its end, which is, in the case of a pony's memory, the present. If you were to read a book, you would have different possibilities how to do so. A very easy way would be to start at the beginning and read everything until you reached the end. You could also skip any boring parts. Alternatively, you could read the end first and then the rest. Or you could start somewhere in the middle, read up to the end, then go back to the beginning and read up to the point where you started reading. You might even read the whole thing backwards. When He scanned the alicorn's memory with the thoroughness of a greedy dragon accounting its hoard, He didn't do any of the aforementioned. To begin with, He started at multiple places at once, absorbing different parts of her life simultaneously. Moreover, He didn't just work himself linearly through her past, but jumped back and forth, constantly changing orientation, like a swarm of fruit bats fighting over an orange. At first, it deemed her chaotic, but soon she thought she could recognize parts of a complex algorithm that efficiently avoided redundancies, compensated oddities and allowed the data to be quickly sorted and categorized. It took Him less than two minutes to process the 476 years of life she had lived. She performed one of the standard reactions to having a complete download of your brain. The alicorn fainted. /.o.0.O.0.o.\ They strode towards the small pile of gems and metal scrap He had asked for. While he started to assemble something He called an 'Operative Core', they finally had a chance to talk. “What purposes do these devices serve?” she referred to the various construction drafts. After a moment of silence, He replied, His unearthly voice reverberating through her mind. 'Well, Most Of Them Are Part Of A Big Assembly Of Machines I Would Like To Call An “Arcane Field Data Measurement And Processing Plant” Or, In Short, “AFDMAPP”. It Should Be Capable Of Processing About 50 TB/s Over A Running Time Of Up To 1750 Years At A Peak Performance of Nearly 100 TFLOPS. It Will Help Ponies To Determine Whether My Plan Is Actually Working After I Am Gone.' “Gone? What do you mean, gone?” she asked, confused about the latter statement. 'Yes. I Already Told You That There Are Forces Searching For Me. The Spell I Cast Will Only Delay Discovery. Being Eventually Discovered Is Inevitable. These Acquaintances Of Mine Can Be' – He didn't click His nonexistent tongue – 'Quite Malevolent. We Will Most Certainly Be Killed.' “We will most certainly be killed?!” she repeated with shock. This whole thing was supposed to help my little ponies. I mustn't fail! He replied with the enthusiasm of a noble unicorn conversing with a common earth pony. 'It Is The Outcome Of 87.43% Of All Possible Scenarios. Do Not Be Upset. If All Goes As Planned, We Will Only Be Permanently Incapacitated.' “But what about my subjects?” He only treated her with silence. With a feeling of utter defeat she returned her attention to her senses and the physical world. Just as He could push her self aside, she had discovered she could retreat deeper into her mind, shielding her from her own perceptions, which were almost painfully sharp under the influence of His mind and magic. It was an odd feeling to just let go of her body an have Him be in charge of her senses. It was frighteningly easy, too. The materials had been assembled to a geometrically perfect crystal of multiple, mismatched colours, strands of metal spreading throughout the inside. It was about as large as a pony, but long and thin. She shivered as He tapped her deeper reserves of magic again, directing the massive beam of arcane energy directly into the gem phylactery. The gems deformed and merged, welded together, creating a single, perfect, colourless parallelepiped containing a filigrane and complex web of tiniest wires and irregular structures. He used her voice to order a group of unicorns to perform a specific channelling spell on it. She was slowly recovering from the tiresome use of magic and the revelation of a possible terrible fate in the foreseeable future. “What are they supposed to do?” 'One Of The Operative Core's Multiple Functions Is To Store Magic Energy. It Needs It To Operate, So It Obviously Requires To Be Charged First.' That strange notion caught her interest. “It's an artefact that doesn't have power on its own, but instead can store and use up magic?” 'Indeed. Moreover, Upon Activation It Is Able To Run Without A Supervising Pony Operator. Apart From A Periodic Supply Of New Energy, It Will Not Depend On Any Maintenance.' She somehow didn't like the sound of this. “So it works on its own? Exactly how much energy goes into it?” 'The Complementary Crystal Structure Patterns Allow The Core To Store An Amount Of Arcane Energy Sufficient To Send The Equivalent Of Two Ponies To The Moon,' He proudly proclaimed. “That seems to be quite a lot for an unattended—What is it actually supposed to do?” 'It Will Serve As Both A Power Supply As Well As A Central Processing Unit For The AFDMAPP.' “It serves as what? What kind of magic is this?” It all sounded Pegasopolian to her. 'The Basic Magic Behind It Is Just A Stable Periodic Oscillation, Which Then Interacts With A Set Of Logic Gates And Temporary Variables To Create An Automaton That Processes Measured Data Into Binary Code And Executes Algorithms To Manipulate These Data Patterns.' He made it sound like it was the most simple thing in Equestria. It wasn't. 'The Actual Tricky Part Was To Find A Way To Modify These Basic Components So That They Could Be Created Efficiently And Would Respond To A Sufficiently High Frequency. The Tasks The Operative Core Is Designated To Require A Fair Amount Of Calculative Power, After All.' The explanation was impressive, yet completely lost on her. “So,” she started; hesitated, “This 'core' is some kind of animated crystal abacus?” 'It Is Rather To Be Described As A Magic Crystal Brain To Which Mechanic Sensory Equipment Can Be Attached.' As she wanted to make a remark, he flatly added 'No, It Will Not Be Sentient. Nor Will It Go Mad And Try To Take Over Equestria.' “Excuse me, Your Highness,” an approaching pony interrupted their conversation. “The blacksmith claims he's followed Your orders and asks You to come.” She could only give her subject a blank stare for a second, then regained her regal posture. “Very well. Thank you for delivering his message.” She walked out of the great hall, trying to dismiss her dark thoughts. /.o.0.O.0.o.\ [Equestria, Everfree Castle; 17th of Dawn in the year 1004 after Nightmare Moon] The darkness never changed. Nearly everything else had, but not the darkness. After all these years, it was still there, inside him, around him. Not that he lacked light, though. It was just a different kind of darkness, one you couldn't scare away with a lamp or two. This darkness clung to your heart, crawled down your spine and pulsed below your hooves. It was etched into the stone walls and seeped through the ceiling like a constant trickle of black water. It filled his mouth when he ate and his lungs when he breathed. When he had first felt it dripping out of the cold, moist earth surrounding him, he had been terrified. But seven decades in the darkness had helped him accommodate. The darkness had been company after his father had passed away. It was faceless and cold, yet calm and consolatory, infinitely better than the disturbing, commanding whispers of the voices. Recently, during the last four years, the darkness had become more than just silent company, it had even become kin to a friend. It soothed him when the voices spoke. It calmed him when the machines went berserk. The last years had been full of loud turmoil and he now appreciated the black silence between the screams. The darkness, the silence and the routine kept him at ease. He continued mopping down the corridor, which was lit by dim fluorescent horizontal lines that winded along the walls, his paranoia reduced to just a light tingle. The splashing and squelching of the mop mixed with the silence and the feeble humming and metallic ticking of the distant machines to an unstable rhythm, the heartbeat of his life. Never faltering in his slow pace, he made it to the core chamber, cleaning the once-even floor in his wake. At the heavy vault door, he stopped. He hated that room. But, alas, the floor wouldn't mop itself. He pressed his hoof against the cold metal door, feeling the darkness in it. It swung open without a sound, allowing him to enter. As he stepped inside, he glanced up at the exposed machinery spreading through the chamber like a bizarre jungle of metal plants. Pipes, thick as tree trunks, erupted from the ceiling and the walls, covered in wires that hung down like vines, piercing pumps and filters, an unnatural flora forged by ponies, not grown in the light of the sun. The humming was stronger here, originating from the large crystal floating over the circular set of control panels at the centre of the room. How he hated it! He hated the way the crystal faintly glowed. He hated how it was magically suspended in the air. He hated the sparks flashing deep inside it. He hated its plain efficiency. Its light wasn't strong, but it felt like a star in a jar, pure, free of the darkness that comforted him. The unbridled brightness represented everything that tormented him, that very crystal was responsible for all the trouble in the past years. Yet, without it, he wouldn't have anything to live for. He fed the crystal his magic, the crystal kept the machines going, he cleaned and maintained the machines. That was his life, down here, hidden from Celestia's scorching eye. He turned away from the gem and resumed cleaning the floor, quietly cursing himself. He'd done it again. It just kept happening nowadays and he wasn't fully sure what to do about it. From time to time, he'd find himself standing and staring at something, doing nothing, lost in thought or memory. It hadn't really become a problem yet, even though his chores took more and more time and in spite of him working less hard, he got more and more tired. His horn glowed in its pale light as he plunged the mop into the bucket of water, washing away the dust it had collected from the ground. It wouldn't be that bad at all if it weren't for his uneasy sleeping. He kept having nightmares on a regular basis. One time, just a few months after it all had started, she had visited him in his dreadful dreams. It had only made everything worse. When she had come to him, the voices noticed. In his dreams, they had been able to take shape. Shivering, he remembered the unspeakable horror that had followed. There were things that could be neither comprehended nor forgotten. In the end, she had fled the onslaught of the bizarre echoes. He levitated a moist rag of cloth to polish the metal insignia on the wall and make the inscription shine in the dim light. This facility is completed in memory of Princess Everfree in the 127th year After Discord's Defeat under the reign of Princess Celestia of the Sun and Princess Luna of the Moon 326 years before the ascent of The Nightmare by Pillar Base Third Listener to The Watcher For a moment, he paused and envied the Listeners of old. They'd the ability to tell the future, most of them commanded powerful magic unrivalled among unicorns and they had been able to do something with their life other than sitting deep down in the bowels of the earth and cleaning floors that were worn and torn by the centuries that had passed. Today, the ancient order was even less than a pitiful misery when compared to the old times of glory when there had been a hierarchy with the Listener on top, dozens of acolytes willing to join the service of the Watcher, political influence, wealth, tasty food and fresh, comfortable beds. He groaned when he thought about today's dinner: plump helmets, again. He had those icky mushrooms coming out of his ears by now. Even worse, these days, not only the order was in bad shape, the world was, too. There had been six catastrophic events in less than four years while there had been just one in the three hundred years before that and that one had been only thirteen years ago. He tried to pull himself together. There was no reason for self-pity. He wasn't some insignificant twenty-seventh Listener somewhere in-between. He was the final one, the Last Listener to The Watcher. He was the one to fulfil the prophecies and bring centuries worth of work to fruition. For that, he had faced all the hardship and challenges he had encountered since the not-day about four years ago. His face fell, his motivation was gone. The not-day.