//------------------------------// // Issue #4: Enter the Haytrix! // Story: Magic Comic Task Force! // by Eyeswirl the Weirded //------------------------------// Bwoo-deep-bdeep-bdeep! Quickly moving toward his chambers, Blueblood answered. "Another one, Spike? The last one was just two days ago." "I know, it's weird, but worse than that? I don't know the comic this time." He paid no mind to the raised eyebrows of a few curious guards and servants as he seemingly talked to himself while floating a strange object near his head on transit to the beanbag chair. "What do you mean?" "It's like, up to now I've known in advance what might happen based on ads and previews, but this one's a comic I've only heard about, never read." The little drake sounded slightly annoyed. "Twilight said it was full of stuff I wouldn't be able to wrap my head around, lotta crazy mumbo-jumbo and something she called soo-dough science. Anyway, I'll look into it as best I can, but you have to go in there and stop the bad guys just like last time." Shutting and locking his door, the prince smirked. "Not a problem, there hasn't been a threat yet that Batmane couldn't handle." Give or take help from an easily-confused mailmare. "Um... About that? I don't think you'll be Batmane this time" He stopped, one hoof on the massive beanbag. "What? What manner of comic book is this?" "It's called-" the chair's magic activated, drawing Blueblood into the other world, "The Haytrix." --- The next thing he knew, he was standing in a shabby, old building. It wasn't falling apart by any means, but clearly aged as what he was sure was once-elegant decor and tarnished metal lighting fixtures on the walls and ceiling hung above worn tile floors, the whole area having an odd green haze to it. Looking down at himself, he found a black suit very different from the one he'd been expecting. It was an ordinary combination of a black (more a dark-grey, really) shirt, pants, and matching blazer, as though he were attending an overly casual funeral. Before him was a plain, wooden door, the hallway he stood in otherwise empty. Luckily, he still had the communicator. "Alright, where am I?" "That's... A good question. From what I can tell, the comic you're in was published as a limited edition of the old version, same story, fresher ink. Whoever activated it was probably a big fan to get their claws, err, hooves, on a copy, maybe they'll know what to do?" "I see. Let me know if you uncover anything else." "Right on, go get 'em!" beep! Glancing down both sides of the corridor, Blueblood, or whoever he was here, tried to imagine what good he'd be in a fight without batarangs or any other gadgets, as he hadn't really mastered hoof-to-hoof combat yet. Maybe he had some other powers? Spike would tell him soon enough, he was sure. He opted to try the door in front of him first. In the next room, he saw two large, red-velvet chairs by an unlit fireplace and standing by the window, looking outward, a towering creature in a long, black coat. From what he could tell by looking at the horns jutting from somewhere around where he guessed it's head was, it wasn't a pony. "At last," it said in a deep, masculine voice as lightning flashed outside. It turned to face him, a blue minotaur in clothing not unlike his own apart from the long, relatively shiny coat, some kind of head-set microphone, and a pair of completely unnecessary sunglasses. He smiled. "Welcome. As you no-doubt have guessed, I am Morphitaur." The unicorn blinked once, guessing this was the villain of the piece. "Erm... Nice to meet you?" As with the Underdog, diplomacy was looking better by the minute. Morphitaur raised an eyebrow. Wait a minute, where's Sabbath? She's supposed to be the one that brings him here. I'm in the Haytrix, right? Iron Will practically grew up on this story, it's principles the root of how he came to craft his work-shouts, so getting to live the experience was a dream come true! Only, something was off... Oh, well, play through. If something looks wrong, you keep going strong! He gestured to the chairs. "Please, come, sit." Blueblood complied, if only to stall for time. "So," he inquired as they were seated, "what exactly is..." he gestured to their surroundings with a hoof, "all this?" Morphitaur smiled. "I'm glad you asked. The world you know is not the world we live in. Secrets are kept, lies are told, and those who would see the truth shared are hunted down without mercy. You, Onyp, are in-" "I'm sorry, what?" There was a pause as lightning flashed outside again. "Onyp. That's you." "I, uh-" Oh, this character's name is Onyp! Alright then, making progress. "right, right, please proceed." He cleared his throat and began again. "You, Onyp, are in grave danger. But I can help." He reached his hands into his coat, drawing them out again as fists, each settling atop a different armrest of the chair. He opened one hand, revealing a small, red capsule. "Red will show you what is true," and a blue one on the other, "but the way out now lies in the blue." As he maintained that pose, Blu-Onyp guessed he was intended to pick one. The truth or the way out? Pretty sure I can just read the comic later if I want the backstory. He reached for the blue pill, only for Morphitaur to yank that hand away. "Red will show you what is true," he repeated. "That's nice. Can I get that blue pill, please?" He was answered only with a baffled stare. "You said blue was the way out, right? That's what I'm after here." Morphitaur nodded, as if to reaffirm the notion to himself just as much as Onyp. "The way out now lies in the blue, RED will show you what is true." Onyp stood up, reaching for the blue pill. "I'll wait for the movie." The minotaur stood, visibly annoyed. "The true path lies in the red pill." "If there's only one option, why did you offer the blue one?" "I, it's, you're supposed to-" The communicator crackled to life without being touched. "I think you're supposed to take the red one, Blue." "No, Operator," Morphitaur corrected the disembodied voice, "red!" "That's what I said," retorted 'Operator' Spike, who didn't sound too sure. "...Wait, is this what Twilight meant by soo-dough science? Is he not NOT supposed to take the red pill?" "I'm taking the blue one." Morphitaur scowled. "No you're not!" Onyp's horn lit up, the pill floating out of Morphitaur's hand. "Hey!" "Ha!" Onyp popped it into his mouth, smirking in satisfaction before being picked up by his barrel, Morphitaur violently squeezing him. "Spit! That! Out!" "No!" "This is your destiny!" "No it isn't!" 'Operator' sounded exasperated. "Blue, just take the red pill already!" After a few minutes of struggle, Morphitaur eventually managed to stuff the red pill into Onyp's mouth, the world fading out around them when he swallowed it. The next thing he knew, they were standing in what looked like a dull, greyish lobby to a Manehattan office building, linoleum tiles on every surface that wasn't glass. Also new was a black trenchcoat similar to Morphitaur's, as well as a pair of equally unnecessary sunglasses. "How did we get here? And why am I dressed like this?" Morphitaur crossed his brawny arms. "You made your decision, little man." Onyp pointed an accusatory hoof. "THAT, is a load of bull, and you know it!" He flexed in response, muscles bulging even under his coat. "Why, thank you!" Facehoof. "Right, so what do we do now?" "Now," he said while throwing off his coat, "we must battle." Onyp took several steps back from the hulking bull-creature. "Ohhh, no, no, no. Can I just have that blue pill and-" "Not you and I, the two of us and the enemy." "Enemy?" He nodded solemnly, crossing his arms again. "Long ago, this world was struck by an object from beyond the stars. The plants of the world were infused with it's power, unbeknownst to the hooved populations of the world. Most plants were made into hay, which was eaten and infused those who consumed it with power to defy reality itself. But with power, came war. No one knows who struck first, or why, only that someone established control, a system. Now, that control must be broken, the system undone." He gave Onyp a pointed look. "It is believed that the power granted by the Hay has simply diminished, that no one can wield it anymore. The truth, is that the ones in control kept it secret so no one would use the power against them. Those who know, however, may harness this power for use, The Pony of legend being the most in-tune with it of anyone." "That was quite an exposition dump," muttered Onyp, "but what does that have to do with-" "Those in control are all long dead, but their tools, their agents, remain active, enforcing their will, their system, upon an ignorant population. These agents, and those in their control, are our enemy." "Ah. Alright, so where are these-" Before he could finish the question, there was a ding noise on the far side of the room, metallic elevator doors sliding open to reveal a short list of hooved beings in police uniforms. Zebras, antelope, rams, and pigs, about a dozen of them in all, and they looked very cross, approaching the duo. Morphitaur punched one massive fist into his other hand. "The time has come." "Right," said Onyp, taking a step backward, "I'll just let you handle this, then." "You seek a demonstration? Very well." Iron Will let the bluepills approach, his excitement barely contained in an arms-crossed pose. This was it. Attack the day. They came closer, nightsticks drawn and ready to bear down on any who didn't comply with the machine. Two pigs charged, weapons swung in unison overhead strikes. Morhpitaur grabbed both in his hands. "You swing your tools, I'll swing with you!" He lifted both nightsticks and the pigs holding them, quickly spinning about as his opponents squealed in alarm before both were hammer-tossed in the direction of the rest, slamming into an antelope and another pig. A ram and two zebra bounded toward him, the ram charging with it's head down, only to be met with Morphitaur's own horns, which sent him hurdling backward. The zebra attackers stepped to each side, both ducking Morphitaur's double-clothesline before directing a kick at his ribs. "Someone tries to dodge," their hooves were caught by a flurry of high-speed punches, along with the rest of them, "you unleash a barrage!" As the two zebra crumpled to the floor, Onyp stood back, watching in awe as Morphitaur took down the rest of the group by himself with frightening speed, strength, and appropriately-worded rhymes. Is this what he meant, the power of the Hay? Is that how the super powers work in this world? I'm not sure an ordinary minotaur would have pulled this off without a scratch without some kind of assistance. Dusting off his hands when the melee was finished, Morphitaur smiled a little as he approached Onyp. "Now do you see? All that I have done, you can do and better, for you are The Pony." "Is, uh, i-is it really as simple as 'say short poem, commit spectacular acts of violence'?" He chuckled. "The key, is simply to know, to believe you can do what you know you can do. Where The System dictates what can and can't be done, we impose our own ideas, our own rules, our own reality, through force of will." He struck a series of poses and pantomimes vaguely indicative of what he was saying. "You come to a gap, you jump in a snap! The jump is too tall, you run up the wall! Free your mind and leave fear behind!" As Onyp was internalizing this, the elevators ding'd again, a team of cows in full riot armor with shields and batons stepping out to join them. "Now," Morphitaur said, "show me what you have learned, and show them the power of the Hay." Morphitaur and the cows charged one another, Onyp, who sympathized with Ditzy Doo at that moment, running along to join in a few seconds later. Well, now or never! Running to the closest enemy, Onyp stood on his hind legs, drew back a forehoof, screamed at the top of his lungs, and sent a punch at the cow's helmet. The cow staggered back, simultaneous feelings of triumph and apology whirring in Onyp's head before he was knocked down by four other cows and kicked repeatedly. Before Onyp could form a thought more sophisticated than 'ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,' the SWAT cows were pounded into the floor by a single, muscular arm. Morphitaur offered a hand to help him up. "They kick while you're down, you show them the ground." In a lot less pain than he thought he'd be, Onyp nodded dizzily, feeling less guilt about hurting these guys now. Come to think of it, none of them are even real, are they? Just the minotaur and I here. The cows regrouped, forming a circle around the pair in black as they stood back-to-back. Both charged outward, a cow's baton moving in an arc destined for Onyp's skull if he did nothing. "You swing your tools," he uttered under his breath, "I swing with you!" In a blink, he grabbed the hoof holding the baton, turned away, pulled the cow over his shoulder, and slammed him on the ground. It happened almost the instant he thought about doing it, the flow so natural it was as if he'd done it a hundred times. Turning to face the others, Onyp grinned. He could do this. He side-stepped the blows of more batons that were aimed at his head. "You aim for the face," he whispered, hoping making up his own rhymes didn't detract from the magic, "I'll show you your place!" Rolling to the left and facing away from the cows, he extended both hind legs to buck them away, neither getting up again when he did. More cows circled him, raising their shields and closing in. "They box you in," bellowed Morphitaur from several meters away, "you take the win!" If there was more to that one, it was drowned out by the sounds of riot gear being introduced to the columns and far walls with considerable force. Trying his best to ignore the voice in his head telling him that attacking a shield was generally a bad idea, Onyp glanced at the cow behind him and bucked with all his might, toppling the cow, shield and all. While brute force proved to be more effective than he'd have given it credit for against a force of brutes, that attack did nothing to stop the other three at his front and sides, who moved in to bash him with their shields. Unable to move fast enough, Onyp was battered back and forth like the least popular foal in the bumper-car rink. Meanwhile, Morphitaur took down every cow that came at him with one punch, until one of them rammed his fist with a shield. Morphitaur stopped, his knuckles pressed against the dented metal of the black shield. "Someone tries to block," he said, looking down at the cow, wild eyes visible over his shades before he shouted with animalistic fury, "SHOW THEM THAT YOU ROOOOOOCK!!" He threw the force of his whole body into the shield, picking up the cow and running with him, picking up more as he charged around the room and slammed into every cow that still stood before smashing all of them into a column, knocking it down with a thunderous crash. Again, Onyp got up, feeling a lot less pain than expected as he looked around, a niggling thought resurfacing in his mind. "Operator, shouldn't Miss Doo have shown up by now?" There was no response. "Operator? Spike? Are you there?" ding! "For pity's sake, what now?" He turned to the elevators, finding not another team of well-armored police, but three hooved beings in dark-green business suits and very rectangular sunglasses. Specifically, an elk flanked by a camel and a goat. The three of them stepped out, no sign of hostility in their faces or body language as they approached, their movement stiff, almost mechanical. "Agents," Morphitaur said as he stood next to Onyp, arms crossed. "they are the ones you are here to face. The only one who can stand against an agent, is The Pony." The three of them didn't really look like combatants, but as Onyp was contemplating just how 'battle-worthy' Super Mare looked with her bright red cape and messy mane, a thought occurred to him. Wait, I know these types! They're exactly the sort who run the filing in Canterlot, fastidious businessfolk that live to make sure everything is in it's proper place. He had handled many ponies like these, he knew how they thought, and he knew how to deal with them. Onyp smiled confidently, stepping forward. "Good afternoon, gentlemen, what can we do for you?" "Mister Andercolt," began the elk, his voice a slow monotone, occasionally emphasizing certain syllables, "my associates and I have reason to believe you have been, misled." Guessing that 'Onyp' was as much this character's name as 'Batmane' had been his, Blueblood kept the perfect, practiced business tone he'd used for years working in the palace. "I'm afraid you have me at something of a disadvantage, Mister...?" "Stone. Agent, Stone. The bull-man behind you is a criminal, a terrorist... common scum. We would see to it that you are acquitted of all charges relating to the, assistance, of this creature, this disease, this-" the word was dragged out into a low hiss, as the elk shook his head in disgust, "plague that taints our fair city." He turned to look at Morphitaur, who stood stoically with arms crossed. "I have shown you the truth, Onyp, seen you feel it within yourself. Now you must choose, who is telling the truth? What is real? What is not real?" He was on his own. Not that it was hard. Redirecting his attention to the three in suits, 'Andercolt' opted to pose a simple question. "Mr. Morphitaur here has informed me that by channeling a near-forgotten sort of power, I and every other sapient life-form on earth are capable of incredible things. I have witnessed this magic first-hoof, and have no reason to doubt the validity of his claims. What say you to that, gentlemen?" "There is no such thing," the camel spoke in slightly plainer monotone, "as magic, Mr. Andercolt. What you have witnessed is an illusion wrought of chemical augmentation." "You were likely fed some manner of supplement," continued Stone, "some, vile concoction, perhaps a pill, to make you percieve the world the way he wishes you to. We would free you of this madness if you would come with us." That actually makes a little sense, if not for one thing. "Well," Onyp conceded, "I suppose it's possible I that the feats I witnessed today were drug-addled fabrications, but what do you call-" his horn lit up, casually lifting a nearby shield (the officer that came with it wasn't using it anymore) in it's arctic-blue glow, "-this?" The agents were silent for an audible second, Stone speaking for the three of them. "Whatever it is you believe you are currently demonstrating, I assure you that it is another bi-product of a madman's twisted malevolence. There is no such thing, as magic." "Yes there is." Another short silence. "No there is not." Blueblood felt his patience slipping. "Yes, there is, I'm using it right now. See the shield? The one I'm floating with a telekinesis spell?" He shook it in the air for emphasis. "Right in front of you? Right now?" "There is no such thing as magic," the goat agent repeated. "I'd say it's as real as anything else right about now." "'Real' is but a word," said the camel, "a concept of that which is perceived to be-" He was cut off by the shield being gently pressed against the side of his head. "Oh, I'm sorry," picked up Onyp with a hint of smugness, "did I break your concentration? With my imaginary floating shield? I hate to break it to you, but you really don't have much of a case h-" He was cut off by all three agents glancing at eachother, raising their right forelegs, and firing at him with wrist-mounted blasters. "-EEEK!" He moved before he knew what was happening, lasers Zap-Zaping by and missing him by only millimeters, lightly singeing a line along one of his legs. Losing balance in response to the pain, Onyp fell to his knees, his brain running a mile a minute trying to think of a plan. Strangely, it was like the rest of the world was slowed down, just slightly, enough to be noticeable. Then it sped up again as the agents, their blasters trained on him, ducked and dove out of the way of a large chunk of what used to be part of the architecture sailed in their direction. He glanced back in the direction the concrete and steel came from, Morphitaur nodding to him that it was time. Probably, it was a vague kind of nod. Stone, on his hooves so quickly it was as if he hadn't even moved, looked directly at Onyp. "Kill them both." Blasters raised, Onyp could only think to stall for time. He ran, building panic dictating that he not take his eyes off the agents, who were walking closer as they fired to get a better shot. Again, time seemed to slow down, the laser blasts sizzling past his head as he ran, dodge-rolling out of the way of another volley of shots and behind a column. Glancing about, he could tell by the bouts of fire bellowing just on the side of the column that they were still shooting at him and that Morphitaur seemed to be taking cover as well. This wouldn't work, they had to get closer! But if he just ran out, he'd surely be riddled with holes in seconds, he'd have to do something they didn't expect. Jump is too tall, run up the wall. Galloping as fast as he could, he moved behind the row of columns and placed his hooves on the far wall, praying for a nanosecond that it would work like he thought it would before finding himself running, vertically, along the wall! He'd have been amazed if not for the lasers not blocked by columns burning into the wall near his hooves. At the right moment, he jumped off with considerable force, slamming into the goat agent just as he was training the blaster on him. Jumping to his hooves, Onyp raised and stomped one to punch the goat in the face, but his neck bent his head out of the way at impossible speed. They try to dodge, you- Before he could remember the whole rhyme, he was catapulted away by kick from the downed agent. Rolling to a stop several meters away, Onyp coughed twice, not sure if a rib was broken. He heard Morphitaur. "Get up! The Pony is the only one who stands a chance against an agent!" "Are you QUITE certain?!" Before an answer came, he saw the goat and the camel taking aim at him and leapt to his hooves to move out of the way. Ducking behind a column again, a thought occurred. Wait a tic, where's the last agen- At the sound of an aggressive grunt from behind him, Onyp all but cartwheeled (somehow) away from the spot he'd been standing, Stone's hoof tearing through the column. Close enough for hoof-fighting, he skipped straight to the barrage this time, swinging and stabbing his hooves at the elk and the area around him only for every punch to be dodged anyway before Stone delivered one of his own to Onyp's solar plexus, rocketing him backward and cracking another column. Struggling to breathe, Onyp staggered to his hooves as Stone approached with the same passive walk with which he'd exited the elevator. At that moment, (which might have been slowed down, he couldn't really tell) two more thoughts occurred. 1. He was clearly not The Pony, Ditzy Doo was. She must have been, she was the vastly more powerful character in Maretropolis, so it fit in terms of consistency, he just had to keep the agents busy until Spike could patch her through. Somehow. 2. The columns, the elevator, Stone's monstrous strength, and the other agents' trigger-happiness could all work to his advantage. Smirking, he dodge-rolled away from Stone, out into the open. He kept moving, feeling a little like the world's most balletic adrenaline junkie as he dove and spun just out of the way of the lasers in the direction he'd heard Morphitaur's voice. It was oddly easier now that he knew he could do it. Ducking behind the right column, he was pleased to find his only back-up so far in one piece. "Hey, I'm going to draw their fire, think you can knock down another column or two on the way to the elevator?" Morphitaur grinned down at him, adjusting his sunglasses. "Leave it to me, little man." Nodding once, Onyp again somersaulted out where he could be seen. "Hey! Those are the shabbiest suits I've ever seen, did you get them from a diamond dog?" It was hard to say whether or not his taunt aggravated them at all, because they were shooting at him just as much as before; a lot. Still, he did need to make sure he kept them attacking, as dangerous as that sounded. Stone in particular, he forced himself to stay close to. "Hey, you know what they say about you guys in the other departments?" Duck, roll, twirl. "Nothing, you're so boring everyone forgets you exist the moment you leave the room!" Spin, side-step, jump. "That's why you have those stupid spectacles, even your sunglasses are square!" They weren't the best insults he'd ever come up with, but as Stone kept punching with all his terrifying might, they'd have to do. In the tumult of the blaster fire burning through walls and columns with each shot fired, the sound of a few more columns being knocked over barely registered in anyone's awareness, Onyp slowly dodging his way toward the elevator. "There's nowhere to run, Mister Andercolt," uttered Stone, who wasn't even visibly fatigued in the slightest as he pursued, "anywhere you go, we can follow." It was a good thing he wasn't Batmane right now, or he wouldn't be allowed to say this. "Oh, it's not where I'm going," he said as be backed into the elevator Morphitaur was waiting in. He pointed a hoof upwards, smiling, "tell me, is that ceiling 'real'?" All three agents looked up to see the roof, deprived of the structural integrity once offered by many pristine, undamaged, quite architecturally necessary columns, cracked and crumbled. The elevator door shut, the sound of tons of steel and concrete coming down barely muffled by the thick metal. As they stood listening to elevator music, Onyp's thoughts caught up with him. ...WHAT did I just do?! Any one of those lasers could have ended me, nevermind the roof caving in, that was completely insane! He glanced to Morphitaur, who thankfully wasn't badly injured either. "What were you doing back there, anyway? I didn't see you fighting the agents." He chuckled. "I told you, only The Pony can stand against an agent, so I sat back to watch. It was pretty cool." Blueblood nearly bit his tongue off in rage. "THAT, IS BULLS-" Each of them vanished in white light. --- Back in the beanbag chair, Prince Blueblood decided against swearing incoherantly into his communicator. Spike was just a baby dragon and the minotaur probably wouldn't hear it anyway. Still, he activated it with more than a hint of irritation. "What happened in there?" "Blue? You're alive!" Joy became anger. "What's the big idea, cutting the signal?! I couldn't reach you at all!" "Rest assured," he replied through gritted teeth, "it wasn't my idea to go in blind." "Huh? Oh, I guess that means..." His voice got quieter, as though he wasn't speaking directly into the communicator. "Hey, I guess you were right, Twilight, something got in the way of the spell matrix." "I thought as much, but it should be all fixed now." "What's going on over there? What happened?" "Twilight can probably explain it better than I can. Here you go, Twi." "Thank you. Ahem, hello there! Twilight to Blueblood, Twilight to Blueblood, do you read? Mayday? Over?" "The radio jargon is unnecessary, but yes, I hear you." "Really? Sorry, I haven't had a chance to re-read Roger Wilco's 101 Things You Need to Know About Using Radios recently. Apparently somepony in town is building their own radio station and they needed the help. Anyway, there was some kind of interference in the spells that that enable the communicators to work, something from inside the comic world, it looked like." "What?" "Yes, that was what I said. It's possible whatever disrupted the magic linking the devices got to Ditzy's as well, but I'm not sure right now." "Speaking of whom, where was Miss Doo? She never appeared with us." "Us? Did somepony else show up?" "A blue minotaur, I need to have him banished later or something, but that's not really important right now. Where was Miss Doo? Having her around might have made things considerably easier." "Blue minotaur? Hm... I don't really know Ditzy that well, but I'll look into it and let Spike know." Twilight giggled. "If we can't find her, you might try Fluttershy!" "Oh?" "Ahh, th-that was a joke. Please don't drag ponies into the comic world, I know what it's like in there." "You're in the MCTF as well?" "What? No, I just... Huh? Oh, okay, I'll be right there! Sorry, I gotta go, but we'll get back to you, okay? Stay safe, Blueblood!" beep!