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// Chapter 14: Hot Water 
// Story: Agent Con Mane in Doctor Ironhoof (Under Revision) 
// by Fairytail 
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	Joe’s entire body ached. He groaned himself awake as he realized just how much pain he had been subjected to. He stumbled off of the stale mattress held by a rod iron frame and tried to find his hoofing. He looked down at the purple, blue and red blotches that dotted his coat. Scratches, just deep enough to almost bleed, played tic-tac-toe across is forelegs. There was no mirror around, but Joe could imagine the state of his face by the sting alone. His muzzle must have been even rounder and his mane even messier than usual. It took several minutes for him to figure out whether or not his right eye was working or not. It was, as far as he could tell. His clothes suffered as well. The red bow tie was missing. The black dinner jacket hung loosely on his shoulders and one of the sleeves had torn completely off. The dress shirt was so tattered it only barely qualified as clothing.
Joe took note of his cell. It was a proper cell this time. It was a cramped little room with stone floors and stone walls only big enough to accommodate a single pony. Joe’s only company was the minimalist bed, a toilet and a traditional metal door. Joe had hoped the door would have the traditional iron barred window to accompany it but sadly there was no such luck. Joe was isolated from the outside completely save for a vent pumping warm, moist air into the cell.
Joe stared at the vent. He figured if he could use the iron bed, he could reach it. And it was just wide enough that he could probably squeeze his way through. The vent was covered with a metal mesh grate but it looked flimsy enough. Joe chuckled at the absurdity of it. The laughter didn't last long as his ribs immediately stung and it devolved into a fit of coughing. Joe considered the cell door next. It probably used a mechanism similar to the other doors in the facility. If I could superheat the control mechanism, he thought. But then what if doing so prevented the door from opening at all? And who knows how many guards were on the other side? No, there were too many risks. Joe laid down on the bed staring up at that Celestia forsaken vent. Joe recalled times in which he did crawl through such ventilation systems. He remembered telling MARE how impractical it was. It was far from silent. Not to mention the idea of bright silvery chrome crawl ways was a rubbish myth. Vent shafts were dark and completely covered with dust, sometimes halfway up the shaft. Even if you could maneuver your way inside, you’d likely suffocate.
But there that vent was. It taunted Joe. Joe became convinced that the only reason that vent existed was to show him how utterly hopeless he had become. He was being held prisoner, alright, but not by Diamond Dogs or an insane scientist. ‘Where is Con Mane?’ Joe could hear whispering through the grate. ‘The Con Mane from a year ago would have already crawled through me. The Con Mane from a year ago wasn't fat. He wasn't a coward.’
“Shut up!” Joe yelled aloud at the vent. “At least I tried dammit! At least I got off my fat flank and tried this time, and look what happened! This is what happens when I try! Everypony dies and I can’t do a damn thing to stop it! Well I’m done caring. You hear me!? I said I aint going anywhere!”
Joe’s echo disappeared into the void of the vent. 
“Well do you really, really have to go?” A voice answered back, “You could always just stay here you know.”
The voice rang within Joe’s ear. It was mare’s voice. A sharp sultry husk with a flair of innocence that Joe recognized. He could picture her. He could see her beat red coat and blue black mane that covered one of her ice-blue eyes. 
“Yeah I suppose I could.” Joe couldn't tell if he was answering back or remembering. He just listened to what was being said. “It certainly would be easier just to forget the whole thing. But I’m afraid there is a bit of a mess I need to clean up.”
Joe saw another mare standing before him in his memory’s eye. This one was a faint pink, with a wild blue mane. 
Joe’s voice continued, “There’s an old friend of mine who is in some hot water and it’s partially because of me. Now I need to go and make things right with her. I've been hiding behind that counter for too long now. It’s about time I face reality and pony up.”
Velvet exhaled in disappointment and cast her eyes to the side.
“Just when things were getting interesting again.”
Joe sat up. He looked at his scratched and bruised up foreleg. He imagined Sea Swirl and all the terrors that she must be facing. He thought of Sky Blazer and his ship full of Lunar soldiers waiting off the coast of Janeighca, praying for Joe to succeed. And he thought of Anavua lying dead in an unrecognizable heap in the quarry and the faith he must of held onto during his final agonizing breaths.
That vent was still there. It’s thin metal grate staring down from the wall in silent judgement. Joe clinched his teeth. The pain in his ribs gave way to the adrenaline. Joe’s horn glowed with an emerald green light. His temples throbbed in protest but he told them to shut up. He wrapped his focus around the metal grate, anticipating the ecstasy of ripping it clean off and slamming it into the far wall.
However, instead of flying off of the vent, the grate emitted a blinding flash. A searing pain shot through Joe’s body from his horn like a bolt of lightning. He screamed in pain and held his temples tight in fear of something leaking out. The grate was still there, surrounded by a deep purple shimmer.
“It’s magic proof...” Joe pressed his back against the wall and slumped down. He allowed gravity to take full possession of his body. In a sobbing rage, Joe banged the back of his head against the prison wall. He banged it again and again. Liquid shame poured down his face. His hind legs ferociously bucked the nothing in front of him. His right hoof punched the cold hard concrete floor and he slammed his other hoof up against the wall as well.
A metallic ting filled the muggy air. It caught Joe off guard. He looked at his hoof and noticed the watch. The Diamond Dogs never took the watch. The stupid gizmo. The poor excuse for a gimmick that made a mockery of real magic. Joe laughed pathetically. Surely I must be delusional, he thought as he burst into a fit of hysterics.
Joe never noticed how beautiful the watch was. The strap, the face, the trimming. It was all so beautiful. The glass had cracked just slightly but the hoofs in the clock still ticked away. Joe thought back to his briefing in MARE’s office. He turned the silvery dial surrounding the face. It clicked in place to a new setting. With a strange sense of curiosity, Joe pointed his hoof out towards the far wall and with his other hoof pressed the small silver button on the side of the watch.
Joe must have jumped a whole foot when a concentrated red beam of light shot out from the watch. A tiny, smoking, black smudge sizzled on the stone wall. Joe fired the laser again making another smudge next to the first one. His face beamed in a massive smile. He shot the laser again this time long enough the draw a curved line. When he was done he  marveled at the smiley face he had created. Joe burst into laughter once again. He jumped to his feet and rushed to the bed with abandon. The feet of the bed frame were bolted down. Joe pointed his watch at the bolts and effortlessly melted them away with his new-found power.
He grabbed the bed and dragged it up against the wall right underneath the vent. From there it would be a simple climb. Joe pointed the watch at the grate and fired the laser. He carefully etched around the frame of the gate. A tiny white hot flame marked his path across the metal. When he nearly finished going all the way around, the grate fell and hung on its remaining pivot. It swung helplessly back and forth in defeat.
Joe mustered his strength, ignored all the pain in his body, and leaped up to grab the edge of the shaft. He grunted in both pain and exertion as he forced his girthy frame into the shaft. His bruised and bloodied body pressed against the hot metal inside, leaving him just enough room to crawl forward. The clanging of the metal as he scuffled forward blasted his ears. Darkness soon blinded him, but Joe lit his horn. He kept the magical light as low as he could to avoid the pain in his temples.
Joe continued to press on. He counted each inch as its own small victory. The shaft was actually very clean. The mounds of dust Joe expected were simply not there. Further he continued. The faces of everypony he knew stuck in his mind and their voices urged him forward. As he scuttled through the tiny shaft, one of his hooves suddenly didn't touch anything. Joe stopped himself just in front another shaft that dropped downwards from the floor. Joe could see the air vent continuing past the pit, but it was far too wide for him to cross. Joe had either two options: turn back or drop. Joe looked down. The light of his horn didn't reach far enough for him to see the bottom. He stared into the blackness of possible infinity and gulped a large collection of saliva.
He had to work carefully. Two ends of the shaft were just far enough apart that he could press all of his hooves against them and brace himself. Joe managed to position himself upright so that his hindquarters would go down the pit first. With all of his might, Joe pressed his hooves tightly against the walls and tried to support his own weight. His damaged muscles and ribs rebelled against him. The pain was so great that Joe was left paralyzed. His hoofing gave way and Joe plummeted down the shaft in free fall.
He landed hard on the metal flooring below. The metallic bang and ear-splitting cry of pain reverberated through the tunnel that Joe had fallen into. Luckily nothing was broken, however Joe’s entire body still throbbed in agony. Joe somehow made his way to his hooves. The tunnel he had fallen into was significantly larger than the air ventilation. It was just tall enough so that Joe could walk mostly upright so long as he kept his head low.
Joe continued forward in the direction parallel to the shaft above. The ground was wet with small puddles of water. The moisture in the tunnel was so thick that Joe felt like he was swimming against it. The tattered remains of his shirt was plastered against his body as was his mane. As the tunnel went on, Joe noticed that the metal floor was getting hot. Soon the floor became so scorching that he couldn’t afford to let his hooves touch it. Joe grabbed his shirt with his teeth and ripped it off. It was now nothing more than a wet rag. Joe ripped it in half and wrapped his front hooves. He would have to simply deal with the pain of his back hooves.
Joe inched forward, as slowly as ever. As he continued, Joe couldn't help but notice a growing rumbling. At first he discredited it as just the noises of a typical air vent. But then it grow louder. Then it grew deafening. Joe turned his neck around. Whatever it was that was roaring within the tunnel was drawing nearer. Then Joe figured it out. He realized why the tunnel was so humid and why the ground was so hot and why there were puddles of water on the floor. This tunnel wasn't for air; it was part of a water cooling system.
Within the glow of his horn, Joe saw the water rushing towards him. Early waves were flowing passed his hooves. Without a second thought, Joe flung himself to the ground. He pressed his entire body tightly against the red hot floor. His skin sizzled. Joe took a deep breath and braced himself as the tunnel was filled with water. The raging torrent felt like a steam train using his body as a track. It was heavy and sharp and oh so hot. The water was hotter than the tunnel floor. It started to feel less like water and more like Dragonfire.
Eventually it was over. The water receded. The tunnel was filled to the brim with hissing and sizzling steam. The steam choked and burned his lungs but still he had to breath. The majority of his body felt numb. He felt like a ghost, separated from his senses. The steam cleared and Joe could see again. The tunnel went on further and Joe pressed on. Whenever he would hear the roaring water return he pressed his body against the floor again and waited for the torture to end. He had to do so three more times before he found a fork in the path leading off to the side.
The new path was dry. The entrance was on a ledge just high enough that the water didn't rush in. Joe figured it was a maintenance hatch. He crawled his way through and was blinded by the light of the exit. The hatch lead out to another grated panel just like the one in Joe’s cell. It was near the floor and he waited in silence as four hooves dressed in one of the protective suits walk by. When Joe was sure he was alone, he checked his watch. The watch was still ticking and he prayed that the other mechanisms survived the enduring waters. Joe didn't want to take chances with the grate. He pointed the watch and thankfully the laser shot out.
Joe climbed out of the open vent and arrived at an empty, white corridor. He followed the corridor in the direction that he saw the pony walk. He peered around a corner and saw it. The pony was standing before a door with large black and yellow warning labels used to signify dangerous magic. It was a checking a clipboard. Slowly Joe edged towards the unknown pony. When he was close enough he grabbed the pony by the neck and strangled it. He stripped the protective suit from the pony. It was an Earth Pony, Orange with a white mane. Joe silently apologized to the John Doe and hastily put on the suit. It covered him from head to toe and hid all of his features.
Joe approached the panel next to the large door and pressed the button. The door opened up to a massive cavern made entirely out of black crystals. Their ebony black surfaces reflected the negative light that came from a gigantic purple crystal that was held suspended into the middle of the chamber over a bottomless pit. The light from the crystal felt heavy. Joe struggle to move through the massive flowing power. various cords were attached to the crystal that led to a plethora of strange machines that lines the scaffolding that was arranged throughout the black crystal chamber. Diamond Dogs and ponies, all dressed in the protective suits, scurried throughout the room checking the equipment. As Joe entered the chamber he noticed a flight of stairs carved out of the black crystal. He gazed up at the top of the stairs and saw a stone altar on which rested an ancient looking book that sat closed. Next to the altar was large throne made from black painted wood and decorated with more black crystals and plush red satin. And sitting on the throne, garbed in purple sorcerer's robes, was of course Doctor Ironhoof. He wore no protective clothing. His bare, black coat and glowing eyes and disfigured horn basked in the evil light of the crystal. His horn flared with black tendrils and bubbling green glow.
“Yes! Yes! It’s working!” He gloated. His voice echoed through the chamber in an ungodly baritone. “Keep charging the crystal!”
Joe edged closer. He had to examine the crystal that was generating the Shadow Magic. Joe was almost close enough to see his own disguised reflection the crystalline structure. Suddenly, a loud metallic bang filled the air. Joe quickly turned to Ironhoof. He had arisen from his throne and stood tall upon his ghastly prosthetics. Joe was paralyzed in fear as Ironhoof’s evil green gaze remained fixated upon him.
Ironhoof roared in anger,“You!”