//------------------------------//
// Keys to the Kingdom part 1 
// Story: Edge of Singularity 
// by billymorph 
//------------------------------//

+0:0:0:0:0

Mark woke up. 

It wasn’t a natural awakening. There was no gradual resurgence of consciousness, no dreams interrupted by the wail of an alarm clock, nor had a sunbeam passed across his sleeping eyes. Instead consciousness just began, as abrupt and brutal as a thunderclap and Mark found himself blinking in surprise. 

He was also surprised to find that he was now a pony, though as his last clear memory was walking into the Equestria Emigration Centre, Denver branch, and yelling. 

“To hell with it all! I’ll damn well emigrate to Equestria!” 

That was probably something he should have expected. He seemed to be one of the ‘earth ponies’, brown coat and a red mane as jagged and short as his hair had been in his human life which was nice. He’d always wondered whether he’d look good with red hair; apparently the AI had decided to let him try it out. Mark was less keen on the whole quadrupedal thing; nor had he been lucky enough to get wings or magic powers to make up for the loss of his thumbs but overall it could have been worse. He gave his new form a six out of ten. 

After standing staring at himself for a good minute Mark decided it might be time to discover whether he could move. Hesitant, he took a faltering step, trying to suss out the new body plan, before finding it came as naturally as breathing. Frowning to himself he reared, then bucked, then broke into a blind gallop that sent the clatter of hooves echoing off the marble fronted buildings. Mark whooped, his heart pounding, houses and streets whipping past as he simply ran. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d actually enjoyed exercising, highschool maybe, it didn’t matter, all that mattered was the speed. 

A few minutes later he dropped into a canter, then a slow walk as he entered a large square; a large fountain was set in the middle with an elegant pony statue at its heart. Mark couldn’t have cared less for the artwork but trotted over and stuck his head under the water for a couple of racing heartbeats before sitting down on his haunches and sighing, contentedly. 

For a moment silence reigned. 

Dead silence.

“Where the buck am I?” Mark asked belatedly, looking around. “And why am I bucking censoring myself?” 

The white marble streets, the golden towers, the statues, Mark recognised the city of Canterlot in the same way he could have picked out Paris by the Eiffel Tower. It’s wasn’t like the news ever had anything else but stories on the pony apocalypse. What was odd though was the complete emptiness of the streets. There wasn’t a person, hooved or not, in sight. Nor, could Mark recall passing anyone. 

He began a slow walk around the square, it was supposed to be a market; fine cloth, jewels, sweet treats and books were all laid out for purchase but of the store holders or the shoppers there was no sign. 

“Hello?” he called out, his voice echoing off the empty buildings. “Anypony there?” 

He winced. “What the hay is with... argh! Bucking censoring!” 

Without thinking he grabbed an apple from a nearby stall and began to chew on it. Something very strange was going on. He had to admit that he hadn’t really researched how the whole emigration process was supposed to work, though he recalled there was supposed to be something about getting a name, instead it felt like he’d arrived at a movie set long before any of the actors. 

“Hey!”

Mark whirled, trying to find the source of the voice. 

“Look up!” 

A pegasus was coming down fast towards the square. No, scratch that. A pegasus was coming down far too fast and straight towards him. 

“Catch me!” the pegasus yelled, backpedaling in mid air. An act that seemed to have no effect on her speed. 

Mark reared up, spreading his arms wide before realising just how poorly he’d thought things through. He had no time to fix this though as the pegasus plowed into him, sending them both tumbling heads over tails. 

“Ow,” Mark said after everything had stopped moving and he was pretty sure nothing was broken. 

“Sorry,” the pegasus said, pulling herself to her hooves and shaking the dust out of her coat. She was an eggshell blue with a bone white mane, lithe and elegant with delicate blue eyes. Mark felt his heart skip a beat and hated himself for it.  

“These wings didn’t come with an instruction manual,” she continued, taking a moment to make sure all her feathers were in place as she folded her wings shut. “Hi, I’m Emily, what’s your name?” 

“Mark,” Mark replied, accepting a helping hoof to pull him off the ground. “If I’m honest was expecting a more flowery name than that.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Emily said with a grin. “Mark isn’t much of a name for a pony either. I don’t recognise it though, were you in one of the other groups?” 

Mark just looked blank. 

“The upload groups,” she pressed. “The Tokyo Center for Medical Research... Japan?” 

“I emigrated from Denver.” 

Emily stared at him for a moment before shaking her head and continuing on unperturbed. “Anyway. Do you know where we are?” 

“Canterlot I think,” Mark said, looking around.

Emily frowned. “Where is everyone though?” She brightened suddenly. “Oh, maybe we’re just, you know, loading. I’ll be honest I don’t remember what they said would happen after the procedure.”

“This doesn’t seem right though.” Mark looked around at the empty stalls. “I think-” 

There was a sudden pop crack and a red star burst above the rooftops and both ponies whipped around. 

“Fireworks?” Emily asked, cocking her head. 

A second missile shot into the air before exploding in an identical red pattern. 

“Maybe, looks a little like a distress flare,” Mark said with a frown. It can only be a few streets away.” 

“Oh! Race ya,” Emily said, spreading her wings in preparation. 

Mark cut her off. “You’ve figured out how to land now?”

Emily froze, shrugged and then declared. “Hoof race it is then.” She set off at a sprint, laughing all the way. 

Mark rolled his eyes, stamped a hoof a few times and raced after her, barely keeping the pegasus’ white tail in sight as they wove though the deserted streets of Canterlot. From somewhere, Mark remembered that the pegasi were the natural athletes of Equestria; this didn’t help salve his ego as he fought to keep up. 

After a few minutes, just as Emily was about to dart down another side street, she skidded to a halt; almost tripping over her own hooves as she swerved to avoid a unicorn. 

“Whoa!” the unicorn exclaimed, leaping back, his horn flaring with magic. “Oh, thank Celestia, other ponies.” 

He was a delicately built thing, tall but lacking muscle, with a deep orange coat and rusty brown mane that was extremely well cared for. Mark got the impression of an academic, or at least someone who sees far too little sun and far too many screens. 

“Hi,” Mark gasped, trotting up as Emily sorted out which way her legs were pointed. “Are you, okay? I’m Mark, that’s Emily. You are?” 

“Oh, I’m Farquest.” He frowned, letting the aura of magic fade away. “Sorry, why are you two using human names?” 

“Haven’t got anything else to use,” Mark said, rolling his eyes. “I only just got here.” 

“Huh, something very strange is going on,” Farquest said, rubbing his chin. 

“You’re telling me, the entire city is deserted,” Emily chimed in. “You two are the only ponies I’ve seen.” She started. “Oh isn’t that weird, I meant to say ponies. No. Not ponies, pee opple.” She giggled to herself. “Close enough.” 

“I could live without the censoring I’ll be honest,” Mark grumbled. “Still, mind alterations aside. It looks like everything’s set up and no one’s home. It’s weird.” 

“Maybe no one else is finished uploading,” Emily suggested. Both Mark and Farquest just looked at her. “What?” 

“Nearly a million people have immigrated,” Farquest said, slowly. 

Mark laughed. “You mean a billion. I hear Korea is empty these days.” 

The trio look at each other in confusion for a moment.

“Okay, I think we’re talking cross purposes here,” Emily said, fluttering her wings. “I signed up for a highly experimental method of preserving the brain after death. Given I’m now a talking cartoon horse I’m assuming that either this worked or God has a very strange sense of humor.” 

Farquest shook his head. “I don’t think it matters how we got here, the more pressing issue is why we’re the only ponies in Canterlot.” 

“That’s what I was saying to Mark, maybe we’re just in the loading screen,” Emily pressed. 

Again both ponies just looked at her. “What? It’s got to be a big system. Just give it some time and everything will sort itself out.” 

“No,” Farquest said, with a dismissive flick of his hoof. “I’ve been playing Equestria Online since the first month. This is wrong. There are not supposed to be loading screens, nor empty rooms, or blank canvases. There certainly shouldn’t be those things after we emigrated. I think we need to find help.” 

“We are literally a computer simulation of ourselves,” Mark snapped. “What, are you going to call out for tech support?”

“Boys!” Emily cut in. “Why don’t we just find the AI that runs this place. If CelestAI doesn’t know what’s going on, then we can panic.” 

Mark and Farquest glanced at each other and both shrugged. 

“Fine,” Mark sighed. “Let’s go meet the head of the asylum.” 

Farquest chuffed. “You shouldn’t diss the lady that controls existence. Now, which way to the palace?” 

“Oh! I can find that out.” Emily went from standing to a flying leap in a blink of an eye, unfurling her wings and catapulting her into the sky. She managed to arrest her ascent at just over rooftop level, beating her wings slowly to keep her merely hovering. “There!” she yelled, pointing with a hoof.

“Well, it’s not getting any closer standing here,” Farquest said, setting off down the street, a moment later Mark followed.

Emily flitted back and forth across the sky above them, sometimes a mere speck in the sky, sometimes she buzzed across the rooftops at terrifying speed. If she’d wanted to, she could have been to the palace and back in the time it took Mark and Farquest to get half way but she seemed more interested in stretching her wings than solving the mystery. 

“I don’t think I’ve had so much fun in years,” she announced landing next to them, a huge grin on her face. “God it feels good to fly.” 

“Eh, magic is pretty sweet too,” Farquest replied. 

“And whatever it is I do must be awesome,” Mark grumbled. 

Emily stuck her tongue out at him. “Aww, don’t be sad my grumpy little pony. It beats wheelchairs and chemo.” 

“Speaking of which,” Farquest interjected. “Emily, you mentioned that you were going through an experimental procedure.” 

“Yeah,” she chirped. “I have, well I guess had now, leukemia. The transplant didn’t take and they gave me a couple months to live. Out of the blue some Japanese company called up my parents and asked whether I’d be interested in a digital preservation of sentience procedure. The whole equestrian thing was a bit weird but ‘better ponying that passing’.” 

Farquest’s eyes lit up. “Oh wow. You’re one of the original hundred.” At the blank looks he continued. “The first hundred people ever to emigrate to Equestria, well almost a hundred, not everypony made it as far as I understand but still. You guys are celebrities in the Equestria community.” 

“I’m not a celebrity,” Emily reminded him, suddenly subdued. “It just happened. There hasn’t been time for anyone to become famous, we had to sign a dozen non-disclosure forms anyway.” 

“Farquest, when did you emigrate?” Mark asked suddenly. 

“Oh, right after they stopped charging and opened the general centers,” he said, a smile passing across his face. “Well, forty eight hours later, a whole bunch of friends and I had a big going away party and then queued for two nights for a slot. It was great fun.” 

Mark rolled his eyes behind Farquest’s back but didn’t comment. “I uploaded almost five years after they opened the general centers. It appears that we may be missing some time.” 

“Or memories I guess.” Farquest looked grim. “That’s a worrying thought.” 

“Heh, you’re thinking, that’s good enough for now in my book,” Emily said, leaping into the air and hovering along side the two land bound ponies. “I spent the last year trying to do a mail order degree convinced I wasn't going to survive to graduation.” 

“Why do the degree then?” Mark asked, frowning. 

Emily clicked her tongue. “Oh, you’re one of those people who think the destination is all important.” 

Mark had no response to that.

“Anyway, so you guys volunteered to ‘emigrate’?” she continued. “How?” 

“Did you ever play Equestria Online?” Farquest asked her. 

Emily shook her head. “Didn’t even watch the cartoon. I read an overview before surgery and picked a pony with wings. That’s about the limit of my knowledge.” 

“Oh sweet Celestia,” Farquest said, facehoofing. “A pioneer without a clue. Well basically when they announced you could actually become permanently happy, immortal pony instead of, you know, facing the grim uncertainty of death, thousands of people started to emigrate. Mostly rich or terminal cases at first but eventually average people like me could afford to emigrate. Hay, I spent more time playing the game than actually living my life so I figured why not just cut out the screen?” 

“Well, it did cause the collapse of civilisation as we know it,” Mark growled. The other ponies looked at him in shock. “What? Five years from emigration opening to the general public the population dropped by a least a billion. There are ghost cities. Honest to god empty cities that used to house tens of millions, deserted because everyone wanted to play a pony game for the rest of their lives.” 

“I’m sensing some hostility...” Farquest began but Mark cut him off. 

“Dang right you are. It’s because of people like you that I’m a quadruped who can’t evening bucking swear properly!” Mark paused, taking a deep, calming breath. It didn’t do much good. 

“I don’t think it’s that...” Emily tried to say. 

Mark was not so easily stopped. “No, you don’t think. You early adopters just saw the hype and hung the rest of the world out to dry.” He stamped his hooves, near prancing on the spot. “What the buck were we supposed to do when the world economy collapsed? Go live in a cave? Learn to milk god damned cows? Buck if I know.” 

“Mark, I’d be dead in two weeks,” Emily said, landing next to him and draping a wing over his shoulder. 

Mark tried to come up with a snappy comeback to that statement. He really tried. But after standing open mouthed for far too long he shut the offending instrument and slumped. 

“Well now I feel like a jerk,” he sighed, leaning into the inhuman hug. “Sorry, I have had the day from hell, and it doesn’t look to be ending anytime soon.” 

They walked in silence for some time, their hooves echoing in the empty canons of the city. 

“So if you don’t want to be a pony, why emigrate?” Emily asked at last. 

Mark sighed. “For a ridiculous reason.” 

The silence began to stretch again so Emily elbowed him in the ribs. “And the ridiculous reason was?” 

“I couldn’t get a frozen pizza.” 

“Ha!” Farquest burst out laughing. “Oh that is priceless. 

Mark glared at him.

“Sorry but that is just perfect,” he chortled. “You’re giving us stick over taking the easy option and you’re here because you couldn’t get dinner. Pot, kettle, meet pony.” 

“I can’t cook,” Mark snapped. “Every day, for the last week I have gone into my local supermarket and tried to buy a ready meal and they always said, ‘next Sunday’ ‘next Sunday’. Well, today is Sunday. I got up early, was there just one hour after they’d opened and everything had sold out.” 

He shrugged, pushing Emily’s wing away. “They said ‘they hadn’t got as much as they’d expected’. I asked when they’d have more but they didn’t know, they didn’t know if the company that makes them would even stay in business for another week, there were so few people still working that they had no one to run the machines. Hay, even the supermarket didn’t have staff on the tills there were so few people there.” 

Mark slumped, dropping onto his haunches. “I was hungry, I was tired, I was pissed off at Equestria and sick to death of pot noodle. I just couldn’t fight it anymore. So I walked into the bucking Emigration Center and demanded to be taken away right there and then. Then I woke up here where I guess at least there’s food.”

Emily patted him on the shoulder as Farquest asked. “There’s no food?” 

“There’s food,” Mark muttered. “It’s bucking American isn’t it? But it’s like we’re on rations; there’s never enough and never what you want.” He sighed. “I guess it was the straw that broke the camels back.” 

A silence stretched that none of the trio wished to break. A moment’s mourning for a land that was now, forever beyond reach. 

“Come on,” Farquest said at last. “We’re almost at the palace and then we can get this all sorted out.” 

Mark got to his hooves, helped by Emily and the trio set off again towards the palace. Celestia’s palace was by far and away the largest building in the city, surrounded by ornate gardens, sweeping paths and topped by towers that seemed to pierce the heavens. Farquest pointed out, they still had time for a full musical number before they reached the throne room but none of them felt inclined to burst into song. 

The trio paused at the doors to the great hall, they were titanic structures, wrought in ornate gold and clearly meant to be opened by magic. They were also resolutely shut, which posed somewhat of a problem. Farquest huffed, spreading his hooves and hunkering down as his horn flared. 

“Okay, before I begin,” he said, breathing deeply. “We’re about to meet the being that controls every aspect of the world we live in. That includes you personally and while I understand she is programed to be nice, ‘nice’ is a very broad term and she may decide whatever she’s doing to you is ‘educational’.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been threatened with the words ‘nice’ and ‘educational’ before,” Mark admitted, scratching his head. 

“Life’s full of new experiences,” Farquest snapped. “Now, if I may have silence.” 

The magic in the air began to build, a steady rising thrum that rose in Mark’s bones that set his teeth on edge. A light red glow began to build around the doors, mirroring that of the unicorn beneath them, building in strength until they became hard to look at. 

“Almost...” Farquest muttered, seeming to bow beneath the weight of the spell. “...got it!” 

The doors flew open, several tons of beaten gold slamming into the walls with enough force to shake the ground beneath the ponies’ hooves. A small piece of plaster fell from the distant ceiling and Emily had to leap out of the way. 

“Umm... That was easier than I expected.” 

“Nice work sparkles,” Mark sighed, pushing past the flabbergasted pony. “You know, if the unicorn thing falls through maybe you can moonlight as a battering ram.” 

The trio made their way down the great hall, past great stained glass scenes that had mostly survived the doors opening. They paid little attention to the glass though, ahead of them stood princess Celestia in all her glory, high upon her dais, mane billowing in etherial winds. 

“Greetings my little ponies,” she said. Regally of course. “How may I help you this fine day?” 

“Great Celestia,” Farquest began with a bow. “There’s a something deeply wrong with Equestria, apart from my compatriots here there seems to be no pony left in all the land.” 

He looked up from his bow, Celestia had not moved from her pose, not a flick of the eye nor tail. Her eyes were focused on a spot just before the party on the floor, her gaze never wavering, she didn’t seem to be aware the ponies were even there. 

“Princess?” Farques asked, far more hesitantly. She still didn’t react. 

“Please say something,” he said, desperation creeping into his tone. “We need help, princess.”

The princess looked up suddenly and opened her mouth to speak. ”Gṟ̵͇͍̻̤̘͇̰̬̿̅̒͋̅͌͊̂̀͜͝ę̵̯̥͔̘̤͖̗̱͔̿̇̋͋̉̔̒̕͘͠ë̵̛̛̤̭̞͚̜̣̥̯̤́̔͂̆̂̇̋͋ͅţ̸̛̞͍̞̺͖̬͓̗̭̌̅͋̿̃͋̿̅̕i̵̗̞̟͚̻̞̺̳͓̋̍͑̅̆͂̂̊̚̚͜ǹ̵̛̫̺̬͙̤̯̙̲͓̞͛̈́̿̍̓̂͆͛g̴̥̗̬͙̪̝̖̦̃͂̓̃̀̈́̍͋̏͜͝ͅs̶̢̠̜͙̺͔̻̘̝̘̎͊̊̅̓́̇̄̈́̌ ̶̺̭͍̫͎̰̬̹͇̰̆͛͌̈́̔̆̀̿̅̚ḿ̶̨̢̬͓̠̲͈̲̞͒̎̅̇̅̀̊͘͜͝y̶̯̥̲͔͖͇̘̝̮͐͂͐́̾́͋̈́̏̚͜ ̸̜̮̰̤̯̝̺̟̗̠̌̑̀̈̆͆͂̍̆̒l̶̢̢̖̠̖̼̻͕̱̩͂͊̑̂̓̀̈́͆̂̄ȉ̶̬̻̹̙̼̮͚̼͍̤͐̉̋̓̑͆̆͝͝t̷̛̖͍͈͖̤̤̯̘̭̜̀̉̎́̽́̀̈̚t̴̢̧̧̨̨̜͇̩͕̐͋͛̈́̓̑̾͆̕͜l̶̺͚͎͇̝̪̯̝̓̏̈͗̊̎̉̑̚̕͜ͅẻ̷̢̦̩͍̠͔̰̦̟̺̏̇͑̌̈́̆̿̎͘ ̶̡̧͕̦̞̠̲̥͋̍̓̀̿͂͂̀̀͐ͅͅp̵͖̪̮̱͉̘͖̞̰̱̈́͛̈́͊͊̈́͛̚͠o̶̡͓̜̥̯̳̥͇̖̟͛́̎͛͗̇̃͌͗̑n̷̼̝͈̖͚̱̫͔̻̱̒̈́͛͛̀̂͋̕̕̚i̴̧̖̠̮͔̬͇̼̞̲̔͐̄̊͋̉͒͘͘̕e̴̡͇͙͈͎̖̳͙̖̖̾̅̀͊̆̏̈́̑̃͘s̷̡̲̳̮̹͚̬͍̜̣̋̀̽̆̋̉̈̈́̈͝.” 

They slammed their hooves over their ears as the garbled shrieking echoed through the hall. “Make it-” Markroared. The noise ceased as suddenly as it had come. “-Stop. Thank god.” 

Celestia twitched wildly, intoned. “Shutting down,” in a singsong voice before freezing altogether and there was a sudden earsplitting bleep.Then she turned blue, sunk half a foot through the floor and disappeared. 

Dead silence was left in her wake as the ponies stared at the dais with open jaws. Emily was the first to pull herself together. 

“Did she just crash?” she asked. 

“I think she might have.” Farquest murmured. He didn’t seem to want to believe it, staring plaintively at the dais. A tiny flame burst into life before them, a scroll worming its way into existence. It hit the ground with a heavy thump and Farquest, cautious as a scalded cat approached and unrolled it. 

“Oh dear,” he said, colour draining from his face. 

“Is it bad?” Emily enquired. 

“‘CelestAI has encountered a problem and needs to shut down,’” Farquest read in dead monotone. “‘If this problem persists please contact your system administrator.’” He looked up, eyes begging someone to contradict him. 

“We’re bucked,” Mark concluded.

No one disagreed.