//------------------------------// // In Canterlot // Story: Wesker in Equestria // by DeepThought //------------------------------// In Canterlot Wesker in Equestria by DeepThought The whole palace was an accumulation of vanity. Only the most expensive materials were used for the castle’s construction. Paintings and relics of long forgotten times, tapestries, and decorative windows lined the endingless, marble hallways. It was truly a sight to behold, but personally, Wesker preferred the professional, sterile atmosphere of a lab. This was just another waste of resources he had witnessed in the capital city. His companions and him were on their way to Celestia’s personal study where the first meeting was supposed to be held. However before their guide, a grey-furred unicorn mare named Silver Lining, could bring them to the princess’ rooms, Wesker asked a question, “Can you lead us to the facilities first, please?” Understanding his request, Twilight and Lining nodded. They took a turn left at the next cross way, which then lead them to a set of double doors. After a short discussion with Twilight about the signs at the toilet doors and which he was supposed to enter, he hesitantly went through the door with a symbol of a pony wearing a dress. This was really a sick joke and whoever pulled it off would have to pay for it. At least he would stay the next few days in Canterlot so he could take care that the personnel at the local Hospital were not just idly twirling their thumbs (or hooves). Also some ‘convincement’ needed to be done in order to make those scientists quickly forget about his ‘special condition’, so the source of his superhuman abilities still would remain his secret. His direction did not waver as he approached the last cabinet, his steps echoing from the white walls. He had been told by Princess Luna that this relative of hers, Prince Blueblood, wasn't exactly the most popular member of the royal family. He was in fact quite the opposite. Still, some precautions were in order. This brat was closely related to the princesses. Luna had assured him this incident wouldn’t be too great of a deal, but still there could be consequences for attacking their nephew. There had been those kinds of 'incidents' with Blueblood before. This fool would have to suffer for what he did to him, one way or another. The scientist injected himself with a syringe he took out of his pocket. Instantly a slight feeling of tiredness washed over him and his skin began to itch. For a moment he felt as if he was suffocating, clenching his heart. But he recovered quickly, taking long, slow, and deep breaths. Then he flushed the surprisingly human-styled toilet. The human needed to gain leverage on the rulers of this country, if he wanted to secure his position. Wesker could either achieve this through growing powerful, a potential threat, or through getting a more valuable 'asset'. The midnight blue alicorn seemed to be a talented schemer herself - the scientist had to watch out for her in the future. Considering her past she could be a powerful ally. The bipedal could try to win her over through her shared interest in the sciences. She also seemed to be interested in Earth and mankind. Especially Wesker’s personal past had aroused her curiosity. He was sure he had seen sympathy in her eyes. The mare in the moon could relate to his situation and the human had been positively surprised by the princess of the night's straightforwardness. He had memorized the hallways as good as he could in case of a confrontation. He also carried more magic jammer with him, as he could use it to render the princesses and their guards unconscious. That was all he could do now. He left the cabin and returned to the two waiting ponies. Finally they entered the princess' private studies through a pair of massive wooden doors ornamented with the sun princess’ mark. It was a luxurious room, even more than the rest of the castle. It was gigantic, loft-like. Hidden behind a curtain was a bed with silken cushions. Several bookshelves with visibly old tomes stood at the wall left to Wesker and his companion. In the middle of the room was a sofa before a small coffee table. “Welcome, Mr. Wesker.” Twilight bowed the instant she heard the voice. Hesitantly, Wesker did too. He didn't want to violate the protocol. Offending a person he hadn't met yet, could prove to dangerous. She was supposed to be a benevolent ruler, a wise and ancient being, but the former chairman of Umbrella had met many politicians. Everyone had a price, and there was a difference between the public image and a genuine personality. Half the work of a politician was done in gloomy back rooms. ‘What became of ‘And even Kings bow to gods’? Are you really so opportunistic? I expected more from you.’ The princess stepped from behind the curtain. She was larger than her sister, being at his eye level. A powerful presence flooded the room, causing Wesker to feel like an ant under a lens burned by collected rays of sunlight. Instantly his magic jammer started to act up. Wesker didn't mind the slightly throbbing feeling in his chest, though. Iron-willed, his face remained an expressionless mask. “An honor, princess Celestia,” he said extending a hand to the ruler. A small, regal smile played on the diarch's muzzle. She shook his hand. “For me, too. I've only heard the best about you from my faithful student,” she nodded in Twilight's direction. “My dear sister told me about your worries regarding the incident earlier this day. I'm well aware what a pain in the flank Prince Blueblood can be... There will be no consequences for you.” Wesker released a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. But he wanted more than that. “I hope he will receive his punishment?” “Indeed he has overstepped his bounds. We consider you a guest. It was totally inappropriate to assault you, or anypony for that matter, this way. He will be temporarily stripped of his privileges.” Wesker wasn't satisfied, but this was better than nothing. Still there was the hunger for revenge. He was a proud being. But for the sake of peace, he would put this to rest. For now. Celestia pointed with her right hoof towards the sofa. “Please take a seat. How are you both doing?” Wesker and Twilight did as they were told. Celestia followed suit, offering a slice of cake to the human. He politely refused, though. “I'm fine,” Wesker replied. “This is just wonderful. It has been so long since the last time we met,” the lavender alicorn answered. “Indeed, my faithful student. But it seems you fit your role quite well. I've only heard the best things since the beginning of your reign. You've come a long way from the reserved, quiet filly spending whole days in the Royal Library. I'm impressed.” The princess took a sip from her tea cup, while the grin plastered on Twilight's face grew. It seemed like the presence of her mentor had a very positive effect on her. Wesker showed his usual neutral expression. The scientist concluded they were rather close. Then Celestia turned to Wesker. “First of all I want to thank you for saving my little ponies. This could have ended far more violently than it actually did.” “It was the right thing to do. No need for praise,” Wesker answered untruthfully. “A noble soul, I must say my sister was right in her judgement. Sadly, I have to cut this short... Soon the day court starts. But I want to inform you that we decided to award you the title "Defender of Harmony" for your heroic deeds. Also I’d like you two to join my sister and me at dinner tonight to discuss the details of your future stay in Equestria… and a possible way home.” In the distance, Wesker could already see the large building with the Swiss cross emblazoned in the white, chiseled walls. Canterlot Hospital was situated in the middle of a small park. Flowers and plants were arranged in beautiful beds around which ponies of all kinds and shapes strolled over neatly-kept pathways between the colorful oceans. Here and there stood a number of banks where more ponies were resting. It seemed like even in this place designed for the ill and damaged there were no tears shed. Rather it was a place where old and young, visitor and patient met. Successfully, they had avoided getting more attention from the press, even though they had walked there in plain daylight. Wesker had explained to his purple companion that he'd rather avoid teleporting, since it usually caused him extreme nausea. In truth, he couldn't risk her finding out that still some magic jammer coursed in his veins. But now, half an hour later, he could finally feel its effect fading. The human suspected the princesses had something to do with the fact that there hadn’t been more ‘disruptions’. The powerful rulers of Equestria seemed to have the authority of absolutistic rulers, modern Louis the XIVs. Despite this fact, he had yet to see them openly abuse their power. With such an age like theirs came experience. And could there be a more constant and stable rule than by beings one could by any means call gods? He briefly wondered what relation the other countries of this world had to the Royal sisters. If what they claimed was true, they had the power to raise the sun and moon. Their good will determined the future of the whole planet. Luna and Celestia were Equis’ Hegemons. Still he didn’t trust this peaceful 'Utopia'. From what princess Twilight had told him, the level of technology pretty much stagnated. Advancement was met with suspicion. There were definitely downsides to the diarchs' rule, too. Wesker considered Chaos and Order opposites. And if anything the princesses represented order. Chaos, or the being called Discord, had been locked away for over a thousand years and only recently he had been released - and tamed. Truly chaos was a power of change and evolution while order was conservation. Innovation had only been brought to Equestria by the futile attempts of some half apes threatening the so-called 'Harmony', forcing the country to adapt. ‘Natural’ Harmony as found in the Everfree Forrest, the rule of the strongest had long been abolished, making these ponies weak and pathetic creatures. “Defender of Harmony… That’s really a huge honor, Mr. Wesker. Only a hoofful of ponies received this award and normally those were soldiers, risking their own lives heroically for the well being of their comrades. But it's not unheard of that also civilians receive this title. Actually, since there hasn’t been a war with Equestria for the last 400 years it is relatively common. From what you’ve told me I assume Luna had her hooves in this.” “Indeed. So why exactly are we on our way to the Hospital?” Wesker had a suspicion. “Oh, well… There had been a breakthrough. It seems like they finally found a cure. Only a few last tests have to be conducted,” said a bit too casually for Wesker’s taste. ‘The readers have been nagging. That’s why...’ Wesker ignored the voice, deeply lost in his own thoughts. ‘It's possible they found out about my special ‘condition’... This would make things infinitely more difficult. If you know how and why something works the way it does, it gives you power over that certain thing.’ When they entered the hospital, Wesker was positively surprised. The clean white walls, the ponies wearing lab suits, even the reception reminded him of his glorious past as an Umbrella researcher. “Good afternoon, nurse. We have an appointment. I’m Twilight Sparkle and this is Albert Wesker.” The pink pegasus mare, who was sitting behind the counter, checked something in her documents, a small smile creeping on her face. On her name tag stood in elegant letters: Swift Service. Bowing slightly to the somehow flustered lavender alicorn, the mare replied, “I see. So royalty visits our humble hospital. I must admit I'm a personal fan of yours, Princess. Without you, Equestria would've had laid in ashes several times...” She blushed, obviously remembering that this was no place to fangirl, but rather serious business being conducted, “Sorry, I don’t know where that came from. Dr. Clean Cut is waiting for you in room 113.” she pointed upstairs and explained the route. Than she added, “If you don’t know how to get there or in the case you get lost just ask the staff for the directions or find one of the several maps scattered around the whole building.” They reached their destination in no time. Now Wesker and his companion stood at the end of a rather dark corridor before a mahogany door. Twilight knocked at the said door and a grim voice answered in an unfriendly manner, causing the lavender mare to flinch, “Come in!” Human and pony entered. The room was smaller than Wesker first assumed, making it rather a large closet. The only window was covered by black cloth and artificial light shone from a strange contraption on a small table to the right. Several blackboards hung on the limited space of the walls, covered with hardly readable hoofwriting. In general, the gloomy room seemed to be in a sort of perpetually chaotic mess. Documents and instruments were scattered everywhere. Huge piles of paper were staked on the floor. In the middle of all this stood a charcoal-furred unicorn stallion, wearing a pair of round, stylish reading glasses. His cutie mark was a double helix of DNA. Without even looking into the direction of his two visitors, continuing to read in a folder, he said, “Oh hello. I assume you are Princess Twilight Sparkle and her project. I feel honored to meet you.” It was an obvious lie. He didn't care at all and his tone gave that away very clearly. Her project? Didn't they tell him Wesker was sentient? Or was this petty creature insulting him? “I'd rather like not to be called anyone's project,” he said aggressively, before the stunned alicorn to his left could reply. “Oh, I see,” the Unicorn replied completely neutral, not a bit of regret or fear in his voice. Blue orbs, Cut's eyes, studied the human now closely. “Let's talk about your illness, Mr. ... We are here for business, aren't we? It isn't like my work is already hard enough with this low funding and this overly strict regulations.” He turned to Twilight, “Since he is an intelligent being your presence isn't required. He has the right as my patient to make use of professional discretion.” The human nodded, and with an unreadable expression, a huffing Twilight left the room. “Only a few more tests need to be conducted to make sure the cure isn't harmful to your metabolism. But I assume Miss Sparkle already informed you about this... You won’t understand anything, so just let me do my job. Follow my orders and you'll be fine,” the stallion continued rudely, arrogance thick in his voice. He seemed to be very sure of himself, even going so far as to rival Wesker’s self-confidence. Ignoring the doctors pointless talk the human inquired, “May I please see my record? I prefer to decide for myself if I deem your methods to be adequate.” “Is that really necessary?” “I insist,” Wesker said dangerously, the undertone in his voice making the very air thick with intensity. “You're a stubborn one. At least you don't call me an amoral flank hole like most individuals I meet just because I practice biothaumaticism. I should be a hero after all I’ve done. With my help, feather flu, a disease that would have killed thousands, was cured. But did I get any credit? Did I get any distinguished honors? No! Instead, the princesses cut my budget. These ponies are insufferable...” he rambled, laughing nervously. Then the charcoal-furred pony sighed. “I see,” the human said neutrally. However, it seemed like the black stallion interpreted Wesker's indifference as disapproval. “You disagree? And here I’d thought I’d found a like minded individual. You’re the same as the rest of them... Here is your record.” “Keep the whining to yourself. Actually, I find this subject rather fascinating. It seems like there is great potential in this discipline.” “Oh, really?” he answered, a spark of hope evident in his voice. “I'm a scientist myself. Whatever anyone says, the ends do justify the means. I've met enough self-righteous fools... Those imbeciles and their belief that they could stop progress. I have only ever found them hilarious, sickening, and sad.” The stallion handed him the document. “That is a very brave thing to say here in Equestria…” Dr. Cut muttered, half to himself and half to his patient. From what Wesker could tell from his record, the reason for his unusually strong reaction to Poison Joke was what he had expected. Indeed, his enhanced immune system had failed to fight the infection, but the resulting struggle had caused fever and other symptoms. Then, the Poison Joke had hijacked his system and began to reproduce, maintaining its level of concentration in the human's blood. Judging on the relatively low technological levels in Equestria, some conclusions the fellow scientist had drawn were quite brilliant to say the least. He had even figured out the connection between Wesker and his virus, calling it “a symbiotic relationship” in his documents. His colleague’s revelations might or might not be a problem. This scientist obviously wasn't developing for the military. The doctor was just another small fish, obviously discontent with the way the dice had rolled for him, giving him unappreciated genius in a world that could not adequately meet the demands of his intellect. It was a notion the calculating man could exploit for his own goals. Wesker could use an ally in this unstable trial he was facing, especially since their fields of experience were quite complementary. The human had to buy time with his little question and answer game. If the doctor immediately started his treatment, he couldn't tell if the manticore poison in his veins was completely gone. That could hinder their progress and cause some unwanted attention. “You said you were a scientist?” the stallion interjected, interrupting Wesker’s thoughts. “Dr. of Bioengineering,” Wesker answered absent-mindedly. “Where did you learn that?” Glaring, he turned to the stallion, “Let’s just say I’m from somewhere far, far away. Somewhere even your princesses can’t reach.” Dr. Cut nodded, realizing the human didn't want to talk. Keeping his eyes to his work, occasionally darting them up to gauge the human’s passiveness in search of some physical change in his expression. He found none forthcoming... yet. Half an hour later: “How do you want to treat the illness? There's no description of effective treatments in these papers.” The doctor looked up, himself now buried under a stack of documents. He wordlessly pointed a hoof at one of the blackboards near the walls. Wesker stood and cleared the distance between his seat and the door to study the board. To make it short, the colleague wanted to adjust his virus by giving it the ability to fight off the infection in combination of some kind of cleansing spell, increasing its resistance against the poison joke. Generally, manipulating his virus would become a lot harder, as the treatment would add some kind of self-checkup to its 'routines'. The idea was not revolutionary, but the former chairman of Umbrella liked it, as it would involve very few modification to the fragile balance that was his metabolism. The way the pony wanted to achieve this was clever and the man couldn't find a flaw in his theory. However, Wesker had to admit that his knowledge on the magical part of the procedure was still very limited. Complimentary with the spell, the diagram said the metamorphosis should be done in a time span of around 15 minutes. No traces of magic should be left in his system, since it wasn't needed to maintain the extended abilities of his virus. He had learned painfully in the past that depending on some kind of constant supply of serum wasn't exactly the best thing. The doctor's methods, which he would eventually tell Wesker were his own discovery, was what Wesker needed to really continue his work as a bioengineer in this insane land of magic. “I see, your research is sound. Let's conduct these tests of yours. I must compliment you for finding all this out. It must've been quite challenging with equipment as limited as yours. Where I come from, technology is hundreds of years more advanced and still most of my colleagues, this human trash, don't get it. When we're done, I might have a proposition for you regarding those little problems of yours.” No further potential disturbances were detected in Dr. Cut's tests and so they proceeded to the 'main event'. The procedure was quite simple. The fellow scientist took another sample of Wesker's blood with a syringe and put the little flask in the middle of a stone apparatus resembling a pentagon. Then the enchanting began. The doctor's blue magic engulfed the whole 'machine' and tiny bubbles started to form in the crimson liquid, which itself began to glow dimly. It looked as if the blood was literally boiling. The light intensified and runes at the side of the pentagram began to glow as well. Little 'strings' of red magic began to cross the blue from each side of the pentagon. Then it was suddenly over, and the light disappeared, leaving the room in nearly complete darkness. Only the probe still glowed slightly, but even that light was fading quickly. Cautiously the pony doctor extracted the syringes from the apparatuses. Wesker noticed he didn't use his magic to perform the task, but his bare hooves. The stallion brought it over to where the human was resting on a chair. Their gazes met and Wesker nodded wordlessly, extending arms so the doctor could do his work. When he finally injected the cure, the human felt relief. Then the unicorn’s spell sent him into a dreamless sleep. But before he heard a faint, distant whisper, 'For now I have to say goodbye. But I promise you we'll meet again before the conclusion of this drama.' It sounded like a threat. When he came back to consciousness, Wesker felt surprisingly fine, unlike the day he awoke in Ponyville Hospital. He knew the doctor's magic had supported his body through the transformation, but he had theorized that there still would be side effects or at least pain. He pulled a strand of hair from his head. To the man's relief it was blonde. He stood silently, and scanned the room, noticing his now fully restored body height. His clothes didn't fit anymore, being uncomfortably strained. He grabbed into his left pocket and extracted his sunglasses, putting them back on their rightful place. His colleague rested on a little sofa. His back turned to the human and therefore oblivious to his awake, he was again reading through a stack of documents. It would be so easy to kill him. Three quick steps forward and a punch to the neck, and he'd be dead. But that would have severe consequences. Also, this individual was a valuable asset, even though his knowledge possessed a threat. The blond cleared his throat and spoke up, his voice again a deep and husky with manliness, “So what do you think about working with me?” Wesker was always one to seize the opportunity.