//------------------------------//
// The Colt Who Tried 
// Story: Thorn of the Rose 
// by BlackRoseRaven 
//------------------------------//

Chapter Four: The Colt Who Tried
~BlackRoseRaven

Thorn gasped as he lunged to the end of the course... then yelped and dodged backwards when one of Hecate's steel hooves almost stomped down on him, before the colt skittered to the side to avoid a slam punch from one of her metal fists.
Hecate smiled thinly as her horn glowed brightly, swinging a steel claw forwards... and Thorn just managed to slip to the side, her grab missing him, before he ducked sharply, the wave of lightning that erupted from her hand a moment later passing harmlessly over his head.
Thorn was left breathing hard as Hecate slowly straightened, the two looking at each other for a few moments before the mare said softly: “Better.”
Thorn straightened, smiling up at her hesitantly: over the last few months, he had grown athletic. He was now able to scrape by just under par for the course, even with the difficulty significantly improved... and this time, on the third run, he had finally succeeded in dodging all over her attacks.
The colt was breathing a little hard, but his body was still tense, ready to escape if she made any sudden movements. He was bruised and bleeding, but holding up well: he was still no Thesis, certainly, but then again... she supposed that she was much rougher on this colt than she'd ever been with Thesis.
The two looked at each other for a few moments, and then Hecate loosened her stance and made a short gesture to Thorn, who quickly nodded and relaxed himself, falling into step beside her as the mechanical mare said calmly: “Several Dogmatists are currently in the process of excavating Cortex. I don't want to take the risk that the systems may still possess some traces of the Clockwork King's AI, so I will be busy today designing a virus to flush any remnants from the servers.”
Thorn nodded quickly, even as he shifted apprehensively, but the mare only gave him a flat look. Even if he'd toughened up physically, mentally... “No, Thorn. I do not need you standing around, distracting me. You can handle overseeing the import-export accounts for this month.”
“And um... then what do I do?” Thorn asked nervously, and Hecate simply gave him a wry look.
“Then you amuse yourself, Thorn. Most of my employees would be grateful for a day off.” Hecate replied dryly, and Thorn smiled lamely, dropping his head and nodding awkwardly before the mechanical mare continued, as they strode out into the hall and in the direction of the medical station: “Consider your job for the day staying out of my way, if that's what you really need me to say, Thorn.”
“Yes, Miss Hecate.” Thorn nodded quickly to her, and Hecate snuck a glance at him as the colt bit his lip, his own eyes focused uneasily ahead even as he said: “I just... don't want to get under hoof, that's all, and... I mean, I want to earn my keep, and everyone else-”
“Worry about yourself, Thorn. Your productivity has dropped recently because of a decline in focus. Either find some leisure time to restore your mental health, or I'll shove a sedative down your throat and lock you in your room for two days.” Hecate said moodily, and Thorn winced but nodded hurriedly, even if by now, well... he probably understood that was an empty threat. Not the sedating part, of course: sometimes giving him a pill was the only way to get the idiot colt to sleep, ever since she'd had a data monitor installed in his room.
They stepped into the medical station, and Peridot greeted them with a smile and a nod. Thorn blushed and nodded back to her, then lowered his head and stayed still, submitting to healing... but still listening as Hecate continued distastefully: “I also realize that, as useful as you are, you will require a tutor. Tailoring your two meals a day and giving you proper nutrition seems to have woken up your body out of its sugar-induced stupor, but you still need to learn magic and how to write properly. Not to mention other academic pursuits.”
Thorn nodded a few times, then he smiled and looked up as Peridot finished healing him, the unicorn mare suggesting: “Lady Hecate, maybe Muse-”
“A Replicant? That's...” Hecate halted, then scowled a little as she reached up and rubbed moodily under her chin. She hated dealing with the Replicants, because they reminded her of Thesis... but... well, these days, that ache didn't hurt as much, and the Replicants had been taught everything they had needed to know to function in your standard pony society... Muse is a much better choice than her idiot sister Necrophage, anyway... and Node is a lout... “Fine, Peridot. Thorn, schedule a meeting with Muse next week. I want you to create an intensive agenda for yourself.”
Peridot giggled a little, and Thorn and Hecate both looked at her, one with confusion and the other with a scowl. But the unicorn mare only smiled in amusement after a moment, gesturing to them and saying easily: “Oh, don't mind me. It's just funny, Hecate, seeing you asking your assistant to schedule his own tutoring.”
“I fail to see how that's so entertaining.” Hecate said sourly, as Thorn only shifted lamely.
“It's funny because he's ten years old, Hecate.” Peridot said with a fearless smile up to the mechanical mare, looking at her with amusement.
Then Thorn awkwardly held up a hoof, attracting the attention of both mares before he said with embarrassment: “Actually, um... I'm eleven.”
Peridot smiled at him, but Hecate only scowled and turned sharply towards the colt, studying him intently before she asked shortly: “When?”
Thorn looked lamely up at the mare, then he winced when she loomed forwards over him, the colt dropping his head and blurting: “Last week! I... I didn't think it was important though, Miss Hecate, we're always so busy and-”
“Shut up, Thorn.” Hecate reached down and seized the colt by the neck, glaring at him, telling herself she was just annoyed by this misplaced piece of information, by the fact that now she had to go and update his still-incomplete profile and she would have to screen him again for physiological changes. That was it. There wasn't the faintest hint of embarrassment. Being upset about missing her employee's birthday was idiotic.
That was something that Celestia would have felt.
Hecate stormed out into the hall, carrying Thorn by the scruff of the neck as he dropped his head a bit, looking over his shoulder at her with a faint blush, but by now knowing it was better not to talk now and then.
Hecate carried him all the way down to his room, then dropped him in front of the doors. Thorn winced and stumbled around to face her even as the door slid open, and the mechanical mare pointed into his room, saying curtly: “Write up your schedule, then amuse yourself until the end of the day. I do not want you working today. Understood?”
“Yes, Miss Hecate.” Thorn said lamely, bowing his head and feeling a little like he'd done something wrong, before he looked up and said hurriedly: “I'm sorry, I... I really didn't mean to offend or upset you or anything!”
Hecate only sighed tiredly, reaching up and rubbing slowly at her face before she muttered: “Thorn, if you continue to apologize for everything, I will schedule you to have a neural node implanted in your brain, like I do with the brain-damaged Dogmatists. But your constant apologizing is much more annoying to me than their aggression.”
“Sorry.” Thorn mumbled, before he could stop himself, and then he winced a bit when Hecate growled at him before the colt turned and skittered hurriedly into his room.
He almost fell over as he slid around in a circle once inside the safety of his room, blurting: “And you know, I... I always just liked spending my birthdays with Mom and Dad and Mutt because it was so rare they ever got a day off, but you and I spend almost every day together, so... so... it's really nice, Miss Hecate.”
There was silence for a few moments as Hecate shifted a little... and then she scowled before punching the button to close the electronic door, Thorn smiling faintly before he dropped his head quietly. He could still feel here there, on the other side of the door; he wasn't the best at magic, but his horn had always been sensitive to the presence of others, and Hecate... well, he'd gotten so used to the strange energy she resonated that whenever she was close by, he always felt a little better.
But then he felt her moving away, and the little colt sat back and rubbed quietly at his eyes. Okay, so it had been hard, not celebrating his birthday, sure. But he'd promised to be a good colt for Miss Hecate, and... they had been hard at work the whole day long. And more than that... he did appreciate her, a little more every day. She was teaching him, spending her time with him, and even though he knew it hadn't been their fault, even though he knew his parents had done everything they could to spend every moment they had with him... his parents had always been so busy, and it wasn't like he could just walk around Helheim with them, either.
Thorn turned around, smiling faintly at his bedroom: it had a nice dresser, a little table, a big comfortable bed, and even a large glass screen mounted on the wall that he could draw up all kinds of information from across Decretum on. It was really hard for him to interact with still, because he had to use magic to input the commands... but Hecate had given him a special little wand that he could float around with telekinesis and use to tap out manual commands over the screen as well.
The colt strode over to his bed and yanked himself up onto it: it had a big plush comforter and lots of pillows. Not the kind of thing usually found in Decretum, but Hecate had apparently ordered most of these things for him specially...
Thorn smiled a little, and then his horn gleamed as he lifted the wand with telekinesis from his bed table, quickly bringing it over to poke at the glass screen and turn it on. Graphs and statistics began to spill over it, and Thorn simply sat and watched the numbers for a little while, trying to get his mind to focus on work instead of thinking too much about... dumb things.
Besides, it was easier to make himself feel better: he just had to wrap himself up in this big comfy blanket, the colt smiling as he poked one of the graphs to zoom in on it so he could study the profit graph. For the most part, his import-export report was actually already written for him: most of it was just a matter of gathering data and compiling it for Hecate.
Thorn liked collecting data. He enjoyed doing research, and he loved to learn new things. He always felt like it was good exercise for his mind: his mother had always told him it was really important to make sure you gave your mind just as much exercise as you did your body.
Thorn wondered often how well his parents had known Hecate: he knew that they wouldn't have left him with her without a good reason, and he had already learned a lot from Hecate. He respected her, for a lot more reasons than just because he had been told to. He thought she was amazing, and that in spite of how mean she could be, she was also a really nice pony. And more than that, he felt that he could trust her.
He really didn't want to get on her bad side or annoy her, but... he did have all kinds of questions for her. And he hated how he often he seemed to disappoint her or get on her nerves. He never meant to: he did his very best to keep all his questions and everything else to himself, after all. It was just that... when he had so many things he wanted to ask and know, sometimes they ended up slipping through, one way or the other.
Thorn smiled faintly as he carefully poked a command across the screen to bring up another statistic, biting his lip for a moment before he sharply flicked the wand to the side, the data monitor clicking off as the young colt wiggled free of the blankets. He quickly tossed the wand back onto the bed before half-falling off the furnishing, but he managed to stumble into a loose trot towards the door.
He could finish off the report later: he knew that all Hecate really wanted him to do was stay out of the way for the day. He really honestly hated not working, though: it already felt like he was just a burden on Hecate, and he didn't want to impose any more than he already had. He also knew that even as Hecate's 'assistant,' he wasn't actually doing all that much work here. Everything he did he knew that Hecate could program the AI to do: once it was up and running, well...
Thorn always felt like he was racing against the clock, trying to prove that he was a useful colt, trying to be a useful colt... but Miss Hecate could be a little funny sometimes. It felt like every time he got really close to doing something good, Hecate suddenly wanted something different... or for him to not do something good. He worried sometimes that she wanted to get rid of him, while other times, well... it seemed more like she just wanted him to... misbehave.
But why would she want that? Well, he guessed there was probably some logical reason: after all, Hecate was all about logic, and statistics, and other things like that. He wasn't saying he always understood her, but he did definitely know that Hecate liked it when things made sense. So she had to have some kind of reason why she wanted him to misbehave. Maybe so that she could see how bad he could be, compared to how good he could be?
He didn't know. Thorn trotted out into the hall as the door clicked closed behind him, the colt looking quickly back and forth as he turned and hurried along the corridor. Well, there was one thing he liked to do that he thought covered everything Hecate wanted to see from him: it was something that most of the drones couldn't do, and it was something that she had been training him for, and it was something that she acted like annoyed her but she always seemed kind of funnily proud of him for doing all by himself, too.
He hurried down the hall, then skittered quickly to the side, wincing as a cleaning drone buzzed by. He was used to seeing all kinds of constructs and strange things from being raised in Helheim, but he didn't think he'd ever get entirely used to all these machines: the only time he'd ever seen machinery even half as complex was in the the deepest levels of Underdark...
Thorn kept close to the wall as he trotted onwards, then yelped as he rounded a corner and almost plowed into a Clockwork Pony. It looked down at him... not emptily, he thought. At first he'd mistaken their flat gazes for emotionlessness, for hollowness... but as he'd learned to watch them closer, he had begun to see emotions in them, more and more. Flickers of sentience in their glass eyes, the way they grouped together naturally, the strange 'friendships' that existed between them...
They looked at each other, and then Thorn smiled nervously up at the Dogmatist: he had begun to learn a little about how they were all ranked and divided up, and he had learned that this one was named Azure, and he was an industrial-class Dogmatist, designed mainly for logistics and data processing. He had a thin body, his limbs supported by narrow metal braces, his exposed spine covered in small nodes and plugs. There were large vents in his back, every now and then exhaling steam, and blue veins of coolant pulsed through his pale white body.
His blue, glass eyes followed Thorn silently as the young colt stepped past him... then he bit his lip before suddenly turning towards the Dogmatist, looking fearlessly up into his thin, scarred features. Sure, he looked a little scary: he had glass eyes and a skull-like face and only a few thin strings of ragged mane hanging around his head, with most of his skull instead shielded by a heavy metallic cap that all manner of cables hung out of. But Thorn had seen worse during his years in Helheim, and learned that sometimes scary-looking people were really nice, if you just gave them a chance to be nice. “Um, Mister Azure?”
Azure ever-so-slightly cocked his head to show that he was listening, even if he remained silent, and Thorn smiled warmly before saying quickly: “Mister Azure, um, I'm supposed to schedule myself for lessons with a Replicant named Muse! Do you think you could upload her profile and schedule to my data manager thingy?”
Azure looked at him for a few moments, then he simply gave a slow nod, and Thorn smiled warmly before saying quickly: “Thank you, Mister Azure! I really appreciate it! Bye now!”
Thorn took off down the hallway, and Azure slowly looked over his shoulder at the colt, watching as he trotted away. Thorn looked back over his shoulder at the corner, then waved happily before he bounced off down the intersecting hall.
Azure stood for a moment longer, and then the cybernetic pony slowly rose a hoof and waved it in the direction that the colt had gone, before looking curiously down at his own foreleg as if he had forgotten he was capable of making the gesture in the first place. Then he simply turned and plodded onward down the hall to do as the strange little colt had asked.
Meanwhile, Thorn bounced quickly through the facility, making his way quickly to the main doors before he smiled as they opened for him, running out into the mostly-empty streets of Imperia, the capitol city of Decretum.
It was a gorgeous city, full of neon lights and buildings of steel and glass that towered towards the sky. Security orbs floated by on regular patrols, while drones trundled around on heavy treads, silently sweeping up any garbage on the streets and keeping the roads and sidewalks polished and maintained. The red skies swirled eternally far above, but the ill crimson light of the world was tempered by the bright, warm light that shone from windows and the streetlamps that lined the streets.
Thorn smiled as he trotted quickly down the street: it had only been a month ago that Hecate had given him clearance to wander the city by himself. After all, here he didn't have to worry about people wanting to hurt him, and if he ever got lost, he could just call down a security orb or contact a drone to bring him back to the Enlisted Outworlder Central Base.
The colt looked back and forth at the enormous buildings as he trotted through the city: only a few of them were actually occupied at the moment. Some were meant to be like massive barracks, while others were huge, specialized laboratories or full of servers and machinery. And of course there were repair shops and medical stations and even a few other kinds of shops.
Like everything else, the city was divided up very logically: apart from the civilian zones, there was a warehouse district, an enormous prison facility, several greenhouses and agricultural centers, and an immense factory area that was connected to a secure research and development zone. The Enlisted Outworlder Central Base was actually located in the civilian area, close to another massive facility that had was still in the process of being rebuilt.
Thorn looked up into the distance, and smiled at the sight of Genesis: the immense castle was covered in cranes and all sorts of netting and support frames, all of which barely held the creaking structure together. Thankfully, Decretum's weather was relatively mild and easily controlled by Hecate's Dogmatists: it probably wouldn't take much more than a stiff wind to knock over the teetering towers of the castle, after all.
Genesis stretched to the skies, but it reached just as deep into the earth as well... and those tunnels were just as rickety and unstable, often collapsing on the Worker Drones and specialized Dogmatists that were working on them. Not that this did much to discourage the Clockwork Ponies: they would usually dig themselves out of any cave-ins within a few days and then continue their work. They dealt with each and every setback calmly and patiently, never tiring, never growing too discouraged, never stopping except for when they were scheduled for breaks or told to by Hecate.
Thorn hurried towards the gaping hole that led into Genesis, dodging around a few Worker Drones: some were hauling rubble out of the building, while others were bringing new supplies into the work site. Thorn noted that there were a few scavenger drones present too, as he looked curiously around the entrance hall of the ruins: one of the few areas that had been completely secured so far.
The colt slipped his way through the wide hall, past the drones, the stored machinery and the enormous crates of junk and supplies. He headed towards an archway marked with red tape, striding into a slanted hallway to where it ended in a collapsed, narrow ledge.
Thorn leaned forwards, peering down into the darkness: several levels underneath this hall had collapsed, forming almost a straight drop down, but a guide rail had been installed for the Clockwork Ponies and scavenger drones: it was literally little more than a girder with distinct grooves in the side of it, for machinery to lock into and slide down.
But it was also almost identical to the sliding poles on the obstacle course Thorn had learned to use, and the colt smiled slightly as he spun around and lowered himself down to grasp the rail with three hooves. He took a breath to steady himself... then simply let go of the ledge, sliding down into the darkness.
Thorn hugged the rail as he slid down it, looking straight ahead and watching as first slate and collapsed hallways and rooms passed by... and then, soon enough, he was instead staring at concrete and slate and broken stone, with the occasional damaged pipe or metal girder sticking out of the wall like a broken bone.
Above, Genesis was a ruin. And below, a lot of the piping had ruptured... but emergency protocols and system failures had saved much of the machinery below from overloading, while the strength of the mountain and the massive supports had sheltered it from collapse.
It was messy, and there were still areas that had caved-in or were inaccessible for other reasons, from rusted machinery to security lockdowns that were still engaged even after all these years, but Thorn was small enough to wiggle into areas even the scavenger drones couldn't go. And while the scavengers were only interested in finding machine parts and materials, Thorn was able to collect data logs, files and books, and little trinkets that had been dropped by Clockwork Ponies or other workers.
Thorn leaned to the side and finally risked a look down, before sighing in relief as he saw that the ground was only a few dozen feet below. He smiled as he slid down to the bottom of the post, tightening his grip a little to slow his descent until his rump finally bumped gently down on the dusty earth, and he sighed in relief as he picked himself up and looked quickly back and forth.
There were a few Worker Drones present in the dome-shaped tunnel, repairing the walls and cutting out sections for machinery to slot into: one day Hecate planned to install a lift here, so they could move materials in and out more easily. Right now, after all, there was no way Thorn or other workers could clamber back up the rail, especially with a full load of materials.
Thorn only smiled, however, trotting over to a crate and helping himself to a cloth satchel before he turned and hurried... north, he was pretty sure the passage led. He followed the dim trail of glowing bulbs strung along the rocky floor; a few had already burnt out, but then again, Hecate was trying to stretch a very thin amount of supplies throughout an entire mechanical world.
Thorn reached the end of the curving passage and emerged into a half-collapsed room: scavenger bots were working industriously away near the broken wall, picking up pieces of stone to scan for usable ore. Thorn studied one of the nearest machines as he paused nervously for a moment: they were large and ant-like, a little taller and wider than he was... and a lot more stiff, he knew, and the barrel-shaped harvesting containers attached to their backs didn't help a whole lot. They were great for harvesting materials, but not so good at squeezing into small places. And they also had trouble recognizing anything but their fellow scavenger drones: more than once, a scavenger had attempted to steal Thorn's belongings to add to its own hoard of materials for processing.
The colt studied them intently for a few moments, then smiled once he realized they were all busy before he turned and skittered across the room, heading for a small hole in the wall. He dropped flat and wiggled his way through this little tunnel into the next room.
Dusty computer equipment covered the walls, and there was a collapsed shelf covered in hardened black goop: it looked as if the gunk had leaked out of a broken pipe, eaten its way through the metal frame, then turned to something resembling cement. Thorn had touched it once, and felt a funny, uncomfortable sensation in his veins that had told him to stay away from it. He had decided to listen to those instincts, and now was always careful to give the black cement a wide berth.
Thorn headed towards a warped metal door, carefully squeezing his way through the narrow opening before he glanced apprehensively up at the half-collapsed ceiling: panels and broken cables hung loose, and it bowed deeply in the center of the corridor, looking as if it were ready to collapse... but Thorn was able to drop to his stomach and wiggle his way carefully beneath it without much trouble or worry. He'd been this way half a dozen times now, after all: even if the anxiety that the whole world was going to drop on his head never quite faded.
He wiggled his way through another narrow opening and into what had once been some kind of security station: the ceiling had collapsed halfway across it, however, and formed a ramp that Thorn was able to scramble up to reach a storeroom. He carefully crawled across the creaking and rotten floor to make his way to an open vent, and then he wiggled his way through this narrow metal passage and into the room beyond.
Thorn straightened and smiled as he looked back and forth through a room that was filled with masks, and pieces of armor and framework, and metal arms and legs that hung like lost puppet limbs from cords and damaged metal hooks.
This room had spooked him the first time he'd come into it... but after a little bit of poking around, he'd realized that this was some kind of storeroom where they had kept the parts necessary to repair Clockwork Ponies. And with enough poking around, he'd also discovered...
Thorn grunted as he pushed against a section of wall he'd wiped the dust off from, and it creaked loudly before slowly swinging open as the colt put his weight into pushing, shoving his way through the hidden panel before wincing as he quickly stepped to the side once through, the door swinging shut with a tremendous bang behind him.
He looked nervously back and forth as a bit of dust hailed down from the ceiling... but then everything stilled again, and Thorn smiled as he strode slowly through the relatively-undamaged room. The tiles that had once covered the walls had long ago fallen to moss and age, but that had just revealed  the framework of supports that protected this room: even with parts of the ceiling caved in here and there, Thorn felt safe here: after all, the only pieces of the roof that had fallen were the cheap tiles and the insulation. The rafters and beams were still holding up surprisingly well, considering all the cave-ins above and everything else.
He smiled as he looked back and forth at the enormous machine presses, smithy equipment, and  the massive forge. And there were all kinds of raw and unfinished materials and machine parts here: pieces of gear, plates of metal of all different shape and size, weapons and armor and synthetic limbs...
Thorn wandered his way between tables and racks and equipment, stopping here and there to poke at anything that caught his eye. Hidden amongst all the machine parts and strange equipment were little trinkets and treasures: a set of dog tags here, a silver chain there, a few pieces of jewelry scattered this way and that along the floor. The colt winced as he stepped on one of the latter, hopping sideways and absently shaking his hoof out before he looked down at the ruby earring he had stepped on.
He knew by now that most things in Decretum served a purpose: even personal items had often been enchanted or transformed in some way so they would give some benefit to the wearer. Apart from just sentimental value, that was, although the colt knew there was a very real advantage in that sort of thing, too.
Thorn picked up some of the smaller things now and then, tossing them into his satchel: when the scavenger bots eventually burrowed into this place, they could gather up all the materials and equipment much better than he could. So instead, Thorn was looking for interesting things that the scavenger bots would probably overlook, but he thought that Hecate might be able to use... or might just find as neat as he did, even if she'd never admit it.
Thorn wandered his way towards the forge, and then he came to a halt, as he always did, in front of a locked, clear box. It looked like glass or plastic, but it wouldn't budge in the slightest... and even when Thorn had hit it with a hammer, the hammer had just bounced off and not left a single mark on the material, whatever it was. Thorn direly wished he could figure out some way to open it, because inside, there was what looked like some kind of special, blue-glass security orb: he was sure that whatever the device was, Hecate would be really interested in seeing it.
The colt scowled a little, then he poked at the box a few times with his horn. Nothing happened, of course, and the colt sighed before he leaned forwards and studied the lock intently: it was a big mechanical clasp, with what looked like some kind of strange keyhole in the center. He had scoured this room a few times, though, and never found the key that fit it: he had also made a few weak attempts to try and 'pick' the lock with a screwdriver, but none of those had ever worked either.
He shifted back and forth in front of the box, then he hammered lightly on the lock with one hoof, but it didn't so much as rattle. Thorn bit his lip, then examined it again thoughtfully before he frowned a little as he thought about something that Hecate had showed him a few days ago.
They had been doing telekinesis exercises, and she had been teaching him how to affect multiple objects at once with telekinesis: she had made him apply pressure on several wall panels one after the other, without decreasing the pressure on the previous panels he'd pushed in. Thorn studied the lock, which was much more complex than the wall panels had been... but it was the same sort of thing, wasn't it? He just had to apply the right amount of pressure to... all sides of the plus-shaped lock, he guessed.
Thorn narrowed his eyes slightly, his horn lighting up as he focused his telekinetic powers into the lock. The metal gleamed with his purple aura as he focused on it, leaning forwards slightly and biting his lip as he pushed his magic carefully into the slot, feeling out the edges of metal and pushing his way carefully along the tumblers until he thought he felt... something...
He bit his lip... and then he brightened as he was able to jiggle the lock slightly, leaning forwards and immediately applying more pressure to it. The lock resisted his telekinetic powers, and Thorn grimaced before the glow around his horn increased, making the lock shiver harder as pins slid into place-
“Warning. Tampering detected in Workshop Three, assembly level. P-Please be advised that security drones have b-been dispatched.” said a calm, emotionless voice, and Thorn winced as he lost his concentration, his magic vanishing from around the lock even as a weak, reedy alarm began to blare through the room.
A broken shutter attempted to descend over the doors in the distance with a terrible scream of metal-on-metal, and Thorn flinched at the sound before the damaged shutter simply snapped off under the stress its own machinery was putting on the aging metal, crashing loudly to the ground. Thorn stumbled away from this horrible noise before his eyes flicked to the side as he heard a horrible grinding fill the air.
Some kind of panel was trying to slide open in the wall, and Thorn panicked, stomping his hooves before he bolted forwards and around the forge. He attempted to wiggle himself into a narrow niche behind the machine, but his satchel hooked on one of the corners of the forge, the colt moaning low in his throat as he yanked wildly on it.
It refused to come loose, and Thorn winced before he heard something else bang and clang its way into the room, followed by a low, maddening buzzing. Then there was a sudden burst of garbled static, and Thorn winced before a mechanical voice rumbled: “I-I-Initiating... area scan. S-Seek and.... destroy all intruders.”
There was a loud fizzle of static, and Thorn whimpered as he looked over his shoulder, stumbling backwards before he spun around and grabbed wildly at the satchel, jerking and pulling on it it a wild attempt to get it loose from where it had gotten stuck on the corner of the forge.
Something was creaking and clanking towards him, blares of static every now and then tearing through the room. Thorn could see a bright, searching light of some kind hunting back and forth across the workshop, steadily making its way closer towards him...
Thorn gritted his teeth, fumbling wildly at his bag before he yelped and fell backwards as the cloth satchel finally tore, spilling its contents all over the floor. The colt grabbed at these wildly... then looked up in horror as something clanked and clanged its way around a large worktable, buzzing brokenly as a bright light washed over him, and the colt whimpered and shrank back under its glare.
He trembled and stumbled backwards as the spotlight focused in on him, flinching away from the glare before he suddenly turned and bolted behind the forge. Immediately, the creaky machinery gave an incensed burst of static, something popping and banging as Thorn scrambled to be anywhere but in the sentinel's line of sight.
Thorn squeezed as far back behind the forge as he could... and then he whimpered as he felt something grab at his tail, the colt immediately yelping and scrambling hurriedly away as he looked over his shoulder in fear, staring in horror at the sight of a long, thin mechanical claw stretching towards him, grasping rustily at his tail.
The colt bolted away from the machine's grasp, then tripped over his own hooves, falling free from behind the forge with a gasp and landing in front of another drone, the colt looking up with horror as the security drone buzzed and crackled as it glared down at him.
It was large and spindly, with a large, cylindrical spotlight hanging brokenly off one shoulder, sparking and blinking weakly. It had a single staring glass eye and was covered in rusted, rotted armor, exposed and stripped wires sparking and sizzling brokenly throughout its tattered frame. It walked on four gangly limbs, propelled by damaged pistons and grinding gears, as motors misfired and it crawled slowly forwards on damaged arms and legs.
Thorn didn't even know how the drone was still moving, as he trembled and stumbled backwards, before his eyes widened in horror as some kind of large cylinder sparked on the security drone's other side as it attempted to point at him. The colt froze up, staring in terror as a whirring sound began to rise from the machine as the drone focused on him-
And then the weapon or whatever it was sparked several times, and the drone twitched violently before it suddenly fell forwards, crashing brokenly to the ground as a mechanical voice rasped: “S-System... overload. F-Functionality... c-c-compromised... auto-repair... engaging...”
The machine twitched weakly on the ground before a faint humming rose from its steely innards, and Thorn winced before he turned quickly around as a bright light washed over him. The colt stared in horror as he saw the other drone was pulling itself slowly around the forge... while near the other end of the workshop, yet another drone was clanking itself towards them, fizzing and buzzing along.
Thorn stumbled hurriedly around the fallen drone, whimpering and bolting towards a set of shelves. He weaved quickly through them, trembling as he looked back and forth before his eyes locked on a hole in the wall. He scrambled for this, wildly trying to shove himself into the opening, eyes wide with fear as he attempted to wiggle himself into the fractured passage beyond.
The colt wiggled and squeezed his way between broken stone and ripped cables, the colt wiggling between narrow walls of stone before he yelped as he tripped and spilled forwards, painfully rolling down a hard slope to crash in a sprawl with a gasp of pain. It took him a few moments to come to his senses... and then he whimpered weakly as he clambered up to his hooves, looking uneasily over his shoulder at the broken vent he had just rolled in through before he turned his eyes back forwards.
He was in some kind of... boiler room, it almost seemed like. There was some kind of huge, nondescript machine sitting near the center of the mostly-empty concrete cell, and what looked like... oh... oh Horses of Heaven...
A dead Clockwork Pony sat in the far corner, staring silently at the ground, a stain of oil around its broken body. One of its forelegs had fallen loose, hanging only by a few wires and a single steel rod. Most of the plating that had once armored this Dogmatist had fallen away, leaving chemically-preserved flesh exposed, and Thorn bit his lip before he hesitantly approached the corpse.
Beside the dead Dogmatist was a massive drill: Thorn halted when he was still a safe distance away, trying not to look at the staring, empty sockets of the Clockwork Pony, instead focusing on the industrial tool. It looked like the huge drills that were used by Dogmatists to bore tunnels for the pipeline: the serrated drill itself was larger than a pony, but it had large handles on the back that controlled the throttle and the direction, meaning even a little colt like him could use it... if it was positioned right first, that is...
Thorn bit his lip, looking fearfully at the Clockwork Pony's corpse before he whimpered a little: this wasn't the first dead body he had ever seen, but... he'd never seen one... like this before. Rotting, and ruined, covered in what passed for its own blood...
The colt looked back and forth, then took the first excuse he had to skitter away from the body, even if some part of him already knew what he had to do. All the same, though, he ran for the rusted door... and even though t didn't surprise him when he was unable to yank it open or move the handle at all, it all the same deepened his despair as he pounded on the steel and cried out: “P-Please!”
There was no answer... why would there be? Hecate had warned him, again and again, that Genesis wasn't a place for him to play... and Thorn whimpered quietly again before he turned around and chewed on his inner cheek slowly, staring at the rusting drill.
There was no choice. The security drones were likely still searching for him, and Thorn knew that if he wanted out... he had to go down. He only hoped that the drill still worked...
Thorn hesitantly strode over to the drill, doing his best to keep his focus on inspecting the machine instead of looking at the corpse. Yet his eyes kept flicking towards the dead body, again and again, the colt wondering silently what had happened to this Dogmatist and why that... well...
He swallowed a bit, then quickly turned his attention to the handles as he attempted to roll the enormous drill to the side. The serrated cone squealed as it dug against the floor, Thorn biting his lip as he fought to roll the heavy tool just a little bit further away from the Dogmatist.
Thorn looked nervously over the dusty controls: he recognized most of the layout, but the gauges had corroded and there was no way to tell what condition the rest of the machinery was in. Of course, if it didn't start, well...
The colt swallowed thickly. He really didn't want to think about that. Who knew what other security drones and protocols he'd accidentally tripped? There was no way he'd be able to get back through the workshop and then find his way to engineering without something snatching him. This drill was his only way out.
Thorn apprehensively adjusted the drill's controls, wincing at the creaking the inner mechanics made even before he'd turned it on. Then he bit his lip as he rested his hoof on the button to start the machine before he closed his eyes, mumbling: “Please work, please work, please work...”
The colt pushed the button... and then squeaked as the machine immediately began to vibrate violently, the drill bouncing and jittering as it tore gouges through the cement before it started to tilt downwards, biting into the floor before it began to grind its way down through the cement.
He grabbed the control sticks, holding on to them for dear life even as the vibrations tore through his entire body, making him feel like his muscles were about to tear themselves apart. It was all Thorn could do to hold on before he yelped as the drill began to burrow steadily through the floor, wincing and ducking his head as sharp pieces of stony shrapnel hailed around him.
Thorn stumbled after the drill, wincing as he struggled to keep up with the machine, stumbling painfully over sharp notches and yelping as he was thrown against the ragged tunnel walls. He clenched his eyes shut, wishing it was over-
And then there was a horrible cracking sound, and a sudden sensation of weightlessness before the drill fell, the colt yelling in terror as he fell through the air after the drill before it collided with a crash with cement below. Thorn was almost wrenched free from the machine, rolling in a painful circle with it before the serrated drill caught against the floor, jittering and gouging into it before it began to burrow downwards again, sending up sparks as it ripped its way through a steel support girder.
Thorn clutched into the control sticks, eyes shut, his body shaking as the drill continued to tear its way slowly but steadily downwards. He struggled to keep up with the machine, breathing hard as he staggered along down the tunnel behind it before he winced as he felt the drill give a violent jag in his hooves, and then the sensation of collapse-
Thorn did the only thing he could think of doing, kicking off the tunnel floor and this time leaping out after the drill, tucking his head and trying to brace himself... and then he cried out in agony when the drill hit the ground and lashed sideways, flinging the colt across the room.
He hit the floor hard, bouncing and rolling with a yelp of pain before he crashed to a halt against a wooden table. He shivered violently, hugging himself around the waist and clenching his eyes shut as he gasped for air, tears rolling down his cheeks as he felt his l imbs quaking, his lungs burning, his heart thudding...
The colt's eyes snapped open as the sound of the drill increased in volume, gravel and shrapnel pattering against him before he scrambled for his hooves as the drill bounced and crashed towards him, the massive, serrated cone lunging almost viciously at him, as if it had its own cruel life and was eager for vengeance.
Thorn stumbled backwards, staring in horror as the drill banged and crashed towards him, spitting shrapnel and chunks of stone in all directions as the colt's eyes widened. He stumbled backwards, his whole body shaking, his body beginning to freeze up before instinct and training thrummed through his mind, and Thorn's body seemed to react on its own, the colt flinging himself to the side with a cry of fear.
He crashed down on his shoulder, rolling painfully before he scrambled for his hooves and bolted into the nearest wall, whimpering over his shoulder and staring in horror as the drill seemed to turn to follow him. But thankfully, the spinning drill seemed to catch on something, vibrating in place for a moment before it suddenly bounced to the side and came down with a bang, crashing and spitting up rock as it rolled in the opposite direction of Thorn.
The colt trembled and pressed himself into the wall, whimpering as tears threatened his eyes, too afraid to leap forwards and try to take control of the drill again. Thankfully, however, the drill caught against the floor after only a few minutes, and this time tilted itself nose-down, sparking and vibrating before it began to steadily burrow downwards through the cement and steel.
Thorn watched as the drill disappeared inch-after-inch into the pit it was digging... and then he winced as there was a sound of something breaking, followed a few seconds later by a hollow bang. The colt trembled for a moment, then hurried to the edge of the tunnel, looking down through it and biting his lip... but all he could see was the lip of the other end of the passage that had been cut through the stone by the drill.
Thorn hesitated for a few seconds before he finally pulled himself into this, skidding carefully down the steep incline before he caught himself at the other end of the surprisingly-long tunnel... and he whimpered as he looked down into the massive, empty space beyond. That was why the passage had ended up being so long: the drill had cut its way down through the foundation plate and into the actual clockwork of this clockwork world.
Thorn stared down at the ever-turning machinery that toiled endlessly beneath the crust of Decretum: massive gears that clanked endlessly onward, enormous, firing pistons, belts that whirred and chains that clicked and monumental steel teeth that clenched and ground together, keeping the mechanical world toiling ever onward.
The colt trembled, looking into the vast space beneath him. Traveling through the underbelly of Decretum could be frightening enough... but how was he supposed to get all the way down there without breaking his legs?
No, he knew what he had to do... and the colt took a slow breath as he readied himself before he  leapt out of the hole, diving straight towards the ground as his horn glowed. He forced himself to keep his eyes open, gritting his teeth as the metal gears turning eternally below grew closer and closer-
Thorn snapped his horn forwards at the last moment, unleashing a telekinetic burst that hammered into the ground and then rebounded, turning his rapid descent into a lazy forwards flip. And a moment later, Thorn landed with a gasp on his hooves, managing to stick the landing for a moment... and then the massive gear he was standing on clanked forwards, and Thorn fell on his face with a loud thump, the colt letting out a little squeak of pain.
But as the gear continued to slowly revolve, Thorn carefully stumbled up to his hooves, whimpering a little as he looked back and forth. He could see scours and scars over the surface of the gear from the enormous drill hitting it, but he couldn't see the tool itself anywhere: he guessed it had likely already been thrown off into the miles and miles of moving mechanical puzzle.
The colt looked up towards where the gear was carrying him; where metal teeth bit together with short, thumping pauses between each clank and grind. Thorn stared at this, trembling hard before he set himself, locking his eyes on where he wanted to go, just like he always did with the training that Hecate had put him through...
The gear clanked forwards, and Thorn bolted the moment the teeth locked, sprinting to the edge of the gear before he leapt sharply onto the next gear. He charged over the makeshift platform as it clanked forwards again, nearly flung to the side before his eyes locked on a set of pistons that were pumping steadily but slowly.
The gear clanked forwards, almost flinging him towards the pistons as the one closest began to drop, and Thorn gritted his teeth before he flung himself forwards on pure, wild hope, extending both forelegs as far as he could-
He collided with a thump into the side of the piston, grabbing wildly at the edge of it before he gasped as his hooves and forelegs finally caught against the raised edge, the stallion clenching his eyes shut before he dropped his head forwards with a wheeze. He winced a bit as the piston dropped to its lowest position... then squeaked as it pumped upwards, almost flinging him off before he rolled himself forwards on instinct, landing with a thud on his back as he wheezed loudly.
He clutched at the piston as it dropped low, then winced as it pumped upwards again, flinching away as steam vented loudly from a nearby wall panel and nearly scalded him. He scrambled up to his hooves... then winced and dropped a little, barely managing to stay on his hooves as the piston shook as it clanked and pumped once more.
He rose the piston up and down as he looked ahead, breathing hard and timing the movements of the pistons carefully: finally, as it thrust upwards, Thorn leapt forwards to the next, wincing as he hit it and skidded a little over the top of the massive cylinder before managing to catch himself on the other edge. Then he stepped backwards and anchored himself hurriedly as it pumped again, riding it up before he jumped forwards at the last moment, using the momentum of the piston to boost himself.
He landed with a thump on the last piston, then immediately flung himself forwards to a small platform... and yelped in pain as steam vented out of a wall panel just as he began to pass, losing his balance and landing with a crash on his face and side on the platform. He gasped, spasming weakly before he started to shift, to force himself up to his hooves even as tears threatened his vision-
Something seized into him and yanked him into the air, and a moment later, Thorn found himself staring eye-to-eye with Hecate, who was glaring at him furiously. But there was concern in her eyes too, he thought, even as she growled: “What have I told you about playing down here, Thorn?”
Thorn smiled weakly, and then Hecate shook her head shortly before she looked over her shoulder at the floating, disc-shaped drones behind her, saying sharply: “Return to base. The subject has been located and will be placed in solitary confinement.”
Thorn winced a bit as the disks whizzed away, then Hecate turned and scraped one of her hooves against the platform, sending up sparks before she leapt into the air. A moment later, powerful boosters flared into life from Hecate's steel hooves, boosting her easily to another platform that she landed on with a tremendous bang as the jets of cold fire whiffed out.
Hecate straightened and strode moodily along the steel platform towards a tall archway, ducking through this and into a long, jagged tunnel as Thorn simply remained silent in her grip, looking up at her with humiliation before he whispered: “I'm sorry.”
Hecate didn't spare him a single look as she walked down the tunnel: even after they reached the ladder, Hecate simply tossed Thorn onto one steel shoulder, the colt clinging to the mechanical mare as she made her way calmly and coldly up rung after rung, until she finally pounded a trapdoor open with one steel fist and hauled herself up into a dark room, filled with metal crates.
Thorn hurriedly concentrated, his horn lighting up, but Hecate only stormed forwards, not needing any light to stride quickly through the room to the stairs. Her colt hurried along behind her, head lowered, flushed with embarrassment still as they ascended a set of stairs... and stepped into the basement of the Enlisted Outworlder base: as long as you knew which passages to take, from the underbelly of Decretum, you could find your way into almost any facility.
The two were silent as Hecate led Thorn all the way back to his room, then simply pointed at the door. Thorn dropped his head silently, holding back his tears as he opened it and strode inside... and then stared around in shock as he found himself standing inside what was no longer mostly empty space, but a fully-funished bedroom, with carpeting under his hooves, shelves lining the walls, a table and a dresser and a large, polished armoire...
Thorn stumbled around in a circle, not knowing what to say as Hecate looked down at him silently... and then he only shrank a little under her disapproving gaze before he whispered: “Miss Hecate, I'm... I'm so sorry...”
“What did I say about apologies?” Hecate asked moodily, and Thorn smiled faintly as he immediately dropped his head and nodded a little, closing his eyes and trembling a bit.
Hecate looked down at this colt, trying to stay angry at him, biting her lip... and then she finally leaned down and said coldly: “You're lucky I received a security call from Decretum. You're luckier still that I was able to remotely shut down the drones, Thorn. Otherwise the Chimera Types may have been activated to deal with the security threat, and then you would have been killed. You're just lucky there weren't any Hoplites on duty.”
Thorn remained silent, looking down at the ground as Hecate continued distastefully: “Furthermore, I saw your little stunt with the drill from one of my security orbs. I also detected the damage it did on the way down: as we speak, Worker Drones are attempting to wedge it out of a gear. Thankfully, not a master gear: but when one gear is clogged up or damaged by your antics, the entire machine is threatened. Do you really think your value exceeds the value of a planet, Thorn? Of even one facility?”
The colt swallowed thickly and whimpered a little, clenching his eyes shut as he half-turned away, the words cutting him deeply... but he knew that he was useless to her. He knew he was worthless to Hecate, and he hadn't even been able to gather any of the stupid trinkets he'd stupidly wanting to... but he was an idiot for even thinking that somehow those dumb toys would ever be of any value to someone who was so... so strong, so smart, so... focused and serious and...
Thorn heard the sound of shifting, then felt metal fingers tenderly stroke under his chin, gently guiding his head up. His eyes opened, the colt looking silently up through the tears in his eyes at Hecate, who was kneeling in front of him, her neon blue eyes gazing quietly down at him before she said softly: “But that doesn't mean I want to see you in danger, either. You have nothing to prove to me, Thorn. You're...”
She stopped, then shook her head before suddenly drawing back, straightening and becoming cold again, face like a mask of marble as she said shortly: “You're grounded. Stay in your room and do your work, Thorn. For the next week, you only leave this room with me as your escort.”
Hecate turned and left, the door slamming shut behind her, but Thorn only smiled faintly as he reached up and rubbed quickly at his eyes before he whispered: “Yes, Miss Hecate.”
Somehow, after all... that didn't sound entirely like a punishment to him.