//------------------------------//
// Chapter 4 - The Last Revolution 
// Story: The End of the Crusade 
// by playnwin 
//------------------------------//


Chapter 4 - The Last Revolution


        Near Ponyville stood a house, more of a mansion, really, abandoned and decrepit; the subject of many a ghost tale told by the schoolyard foals that went to school nearby. Nopony remembered the house, or who built it, who had lived in it, or even who currently owned it. Nopony would ever have guessed who its owner was. The mansion, as well a much of its surrounding forest, belonged to the wealthy inventor who lived inside, hidden away in self-exile, Apple Bloom.
        Apple Bloom sat at a desk somewhere on the first floor, not caring which desk she was at, as she kept dozens of them around, scattered throughout the house. She would often just sit at whichever desk was closest, either to grab a pad of paper for some new inspiration, or to sit and ruminate upon the universe, society, or the past. At this point, she was thinking of home, where zapapples were currently in season for the week.
        Various plans for automating the harvesting shot through Apple Bloom’s mind. Grabbing one of the identical pads of paper, she began to draw and think, accidentally thinking aloud, which often helped her think, though she rarely caught herself doing it.
        “Hmmm... A arcane-conductive alloy? Or perhaps a magic inhibition field? Do zapapples have enough magic to warrant both?” Scratching along the paper, the pencil added strokes signifying magic protection, alloy strength, conductiveness, both magical and electrical, and various other elements that would be repeatedly changed.
        “An artificial bucking device, or a vacuum-suction device?” Neither appealed, due to the zapapple’s inherit properties, but removing its magic would either remove those as well, or break the whole idea. Sighing, Apple Bloom dropped the paper, and began mindlessly fiddling with a few scraps of metal and wires laying upon the desk.
Seconds, or hours, passed by, with Apple Bloom’s hand always moving, and her mind working similarly. According to her mental versioning, she had thought of, and discarded, three hundred and twenty-two plans for a zapapple harvester. Looking at her hooves, she noticed that she had built a miniature helicopter, not unlike the one she had designed the month before. When she wasn’t paying attention, she always went back to ideas she had never perfected to the last detail. She hadn’t optimized the mass-to-drag ratio, but they had demanded it quickly, and she had delivered as such.
With a small, sad smile on her face, Apple Bloom pressed the small button on the copter's side, starting it up, then releasing it into the air. It flew around a bit, before circling around her and flying away. Frowning, Apple Bloom lamented the reduced timescale she had been given, as she had been unable to program all the features she felt it needed to be worthy of the title “Finished”. Given more time, she would have—
*THUD*
*CRACK*
Freezing, her heart pounding, Apple Bloom had flashbacks to an incident a few years back. Potion making had just reached popularity, and numerous injuries were caused by a general lack of safety and knowledge, particularly what to do when a potion was dropped or cracked. Apple Bloom had been hired to try and help; the end result had been a few safety posters and one particular rhyme. What was it again?

“Red should be spurned,


Green should be burned,


If it’s yellow you should fly;


All of the above, do or die.”

It was far from a catchy tune, but injuries dropped sharply, so it had worked. Craning her head, Apple Bloom looked back to see... a broken picture frame. Letting out her breath, she reached out  and grabbed the mischievous helicopter, and shut it off. Leaning down, Apple Bloom picked up the picture, and turned it over. Cracked to much to see what it hid, she flipped it back over, took off the back cover, and took out the picture held within.
Fighting a sudden burst of loneliness, Apple Bloom stared at the picture, one of the last before they had each gone their separate ways. Scootaloo had gone off to be a Wonderbolt, and Sweetie Belle had gone on some form of journey, Apple Bloom didn’t know where to, leaving Apple Bloom alone. She couldn’t hold it against them, they each had their lives to live, but still... she wished it hadn’t been so sudden. She had never gotten to say goodbye.
Disassembling the copter, Apple Bloom reflected on her past six years. Right after The Event, several scientists and businessponies had approached her about her biplane. Taking advice from Twilight Sparkle, who was, at that point, binge-studying law school, she had taken measures to protect her inventions. But, being a lone pony, as the Apple family had no intention of using the “newfangled” technology, she had entered a joint-venture as the inventor.
Overzealous from the huge sums of royalties she had received, she had bought a mansion on the edge of town. Her plane had sparked a transportation revolution, outdating trains and pegasi alike, and using more efficient planes for long-distance travel. Still in that venture, she had gone to work on a new, combustion-based engine for trains. But as a small project to amuse herself, she had placed it in smaller carts, calling those “auto-mobiles”. She had even taken a large hunk of metal, almost like a turtle’s shell, and attached an engine to that, all on a self-challenge. This last design she had named after her inspiration, Rainbow Dash’s pet turtle, “Tank”.
But transportation didn’t hold her interests long. The individual parts were too slow to make, so she set about expediting that process. She had found that, if you got a large group of workers doing one small task, the process could be speeded up greatly. One other important factor was that since each step was identical, the end results were interchangeable. This cure for a personal annoyance eventually got the tile of “Industrial Revolution”.
Losing interest once again, and once again after significant profit, she left the industrial sector, and went back to her home, agricultural sector. She had been hearing complaints of cotton farmers all her farming childhood life, how the seeds were impossible to remove at any quick rate. Many farmers were having to lay off their workers, mostly dragons at the time. Dragon unemployment rates were skyrocketing as more and more farms had to follow suit.
Deciding to step in and help, Apple Bloom invented a “cotton gin”, which allowed a lone dragon to remove seeds from fifty pounds of cotton per hour, far higher than the previous rate of one per hour. With this invention, hundreds of farmers were able to employ thousands of dragons, stifling an economic crisis. And, yet again, this charitable invention became yet another revolution.
But at this point, Apple Bloom had had enough. When ponies looked at her, they stopped seeing “Apple Bloom”, and started seeing “The Greatest Inventor Who Ever Lived”, a name the humble Apple Bloom was in contention with. All of society looked at her this way, and after so long, she couldn’t stand it anymore. She packed her things, and moved to her mansion she had foolishly bought so many years back.
She had never stopped working and inventing; anypony who wanted to could send her a letter, and she would usually complete the request and send it back, also via mail. Usually the recipient sent back a bag of bits, but Apple Bloom was long past needing bits, or even wanting them. She worked for the enjoyment of it, and the fact that she helped ponies while doing so.
Gathering her helicopter, which had been rebuilt several times over the course of Apple Blooms ruminations, she walked down the stairs towards the kitchen, which was usually empty. Midway down the stairs, she heard a knock on her door, and immediately dismissed it. 
“Probably just those same schoolfoals, daring each other to knock on my door. Again.” Grumbling to herself, she waited for the inevitable second knock, which always came after the prodding of friends and allusions to various winged fowl. And waited. And waited.
It never came. Peering out the viewport, Apple Bloom could see no sign of any foals, or even any pony in general. She reluctantly unlocked the locks, and cautiously opened the door. There, sitting on her doorstep, was a letter, freshly delivered. Curious, Apple Bloom picked it up, and returned inside. On it, it read:
“Dear Apple Bloom,
        Twilight Sparkle has invited us to lunch at the library in Ponyville, to discuss Sweet Apple Acres, and a few of your inventions. She says to be there by two in the afternoon. I’ll be there early to help set up. She’s having some renovations done, so come in the back entrance. It’ll be unlocked.
                                                                        Sincerely,
                                                                        Applejack”
        Looking at the clock, Apple Bloom was surprised to see that it was half an hour before two. Her home was just about that far from the library; she would have to hurry. Grabbing a cloak and some large sunglasses, she slipped out the front door, locked it, and begun her trek to Ponyville.