Chapter Eight: Reprogramming
~BlackRoseRaven
Hecate stood with her son, Thorn Blackfeather, outside of Genesis. He was an adult now: a little over eighteen years old, serious and regal, not just her son but her trusted apprentice. And without his help, Hecate reflected, she didn't think that she would have been able to save all this. Rebuild it, oh, certainly... but she would never forget that it was because of Thorn that Genesis had remained standing even after catastrophe had struck.
The two looked at each other, trading smiles and slow nods as Drones flowed in and out of the castle, carrying furniture, machinery, and building materials. With the completion of Decretum's major pipelines and the arrival of several small armies of Worker Drones over the last few years, Decretum had gone from a ghostly wasteland inhabited mostly by mechanical workers, to a thriving city.
Today was a very important day, for a lot of reasons: one was that Genesis' facilities were officially going to be opened: it was currently sitting at around fifty percent operating capacity, but Hecate expected that number to start sharply climbing very soon. Stabilizing and reconstructing the massive castle had been difficult: putting together the interior would be the work of weeks for her tireless Worker Drones.
With Decretum stabilized, a permanent link to Endworld established and Hecate drawing on resources from her former planet, and Genesis' facilities coming online, there were only two major operations left to complete, and Hecate had already taken pronounced steps with them both: recruiting more unique Outworlders to her cause, and replacing the Clockwork King AI with a control program of her own design.
Both of these were important to her plans: if her empire was going to be successful, she would require more than just Dogmatists and Drones in her army. She was already accepting nominations from Valhalla and Helheim, and had sent out all manner of scouts to explore and bring back any potential candidates for the program.
She also required a way to keep Decretum running even when she wasn't present. As the Clockwork King program had gone insane and would likely attempt to supersede the systems and either trigger a self-destruct or a mutiny, she needed something to take over those duties and keep the systems optimized and the Dogmatists and Drones on task. Over the last few years, Hecate had completed a project that would hopefully deal with both of these issues at once: a super-AI known as Seneschal, which would eradicate the Clockwork King while taking control of Decretum's automated systems in its place.
Today, as a matter of fact, they would be putting Seneschal to the test: the main data node containing Seneschal's programming had already been inserted into an idling computer system and eradicated the splinters of Clockwork King data there. The real test would be when the rest of Decretum was brought online: would Seneschal be able to keep up with each sector as it was activated and the Clockwork King's shards of programming started to run rampant, or would the splintered, insane AI that had previously controlled Decretum overwhelm Seneschal?
They both already knew that while Seneschal and the Clockwork King fought it out, there were going to be power disruptions and system failures. With luck, Seneschal would be able to reverse the Clockwork King program's engineering, while subverting the control nodes that were currently all infected by the old Decretum AI.
Hecate estimated that at the very best, it would take at least three hours for Seneschal to eliminate the hostile programming from the sectors they were going to bring online. On the other hand, if things didn't go according to plan, it could take days to erase the Clockwork King, and she might even have to be forced to quarantine some of the systems.
As it was, all the Drones had to be shut down, along with the Class I Dogmatists. There was too much damage the Clockwork King could do otherwise, by confusing the mechanical units, too many of which were still keyed to the orders of the Decretum AI over her own.
“I think it's almost time. We should head up to the control center.” Thorn said calmly, and Hecate grunted moodily as her eyes flicked towards the line of Drones and workers that were streaming in and out of Genesis: yes, she could see for herself that there were fewer and fewer workers now, as they headed to the dormitories and hibernation pods.
“Don't get ahead of yourself, Thorn.” Hecate chastened, but all the same she started forwards, the stallion falling in step with her as the mare continued: “We have to ensure that all the more sensitive systems are shut down, first: we cannot risk our defenses or any of the more sensitive machines being infected by the...”
“Virus.” Thorn supplied, and Hecate grunted moodily: she hated to use that word, since the Clockwork King was much different from a computer virus, but at the same time...
“The hostile program.” she corrected moodily, then she shook her head and continued distastefully: “I do not enjoy rushing to implement Seneschal like this, but we are beginning to run out of time, and there is no better way to test the efficacy of this AI. I only hope that he's half as useful as he is irritating.”
Thorn smiled a little up at the mechanical mare, nodding a bit, and the mare grumbled under her breath before she muttered: “One day you'll grow up, Thorn, instead of just constantly deferring to me or hiding under my skirts.”
“I've never seen you in a skirt.” Thorn commented, and Hecate gave him a dark look before the unflappable stallion continued calmly: “You are my superior, Queen Hecate, but part of my duty is encouraging you to move forward with your plans when you... hesitate.”
Hecate gave Thorn a moody look, and thought for a moment about kicking him off the bridge... but then they were passing through the gates of Genesis, and the mechanical mare rolled her eyes before muttering: “The only reason I don't electrocute you is because I don't want to damage your new prosthetic.”
She stopped, then glanced over at him, and Thorn smiled a little as his own eyes flicked towards his mechanical leg: Hecate had made several changes and upgrades to an older version, increasing the durability of the plating that covered it and adding a large cusp that fit over the shoulder. She had then fitted on a special engine, with slowly-pumping pistons and a vent that every now and then released a small burst of steam.
It added a lot of weight to the limb, but Thorn had grown very strong... and Hecate thought that the enhancements outweighed the negatives, as well. She had modified the prosthetic to serve as a multipurpose tool, to better increase Thorn's strength and maneuverability: even if Thorn mainly served her in a rear echelon role, every now and then she sent him down to the Clockworks or into some other dangerous area that required a mobility most of her soldiers lacked, and an intelligence she had yet to see displayed in the ones that did.
Hecate looked back ahead, but then asked quietly: “How does it feel today?”
“Sore.” Thorn shrugged a bit, smiling briefly as he looked ahead: it wasn't perfect, of course. His prosthetic and his stump of shoulder had both been modified so many times growing up that there was always a persistent ache... not to mention the phantom pains he felt sometimes running through the metal leg.
Still, he never took the fact he actually had a working leg for granted, steel or not: every night when he removed it to go to sleep, he was reminded of what it would be like if he only had three legs. Sure, some days, he managed just fine with three limbs, even if he was a little... slower than other ponies. But other days, well...
The two remained silent as they headed up through Genesis: they only passed a few Drones and Dogmatists on the way, many of whom were heading downstairs, likely on their way to the barracks and dormitories that were nearest the castle.
Eventually, the two reached the control center: once it had been a throne room, but now it was covered in computers and floating crystalline screens, similar in structure to the control room in the Enlisted Outworlder facility, but much larger in scope. Hecate made her way to the Overseer's Platform on the upper level of the room, looking coldly and clinically down over the Dogmatists and Outworlders already running the initial startup procedures for Decretum's automated systems.
Thorn, meanwhile, approached a squat circular projector that sat in the center of the room: it was composed of a steel outer ring with three narrow openings spaced evenly around it, and a massive crystalline lens in the center. The moment he drew close, the crystalline lens glowed, before a holographic figure assembled itself in front of Thorn, translucent, and with a faint, eerie blue tone.
“Seneschal.” Thorn greeted cordially, looking up at the projection of the AI, and the AI looked back at him with a distinct crankiness. Clawed hands reached up and moodily adjusted his bow-tie, before they compulsively smoothed the plain suit that clothed the lanky figure of what was clearly a bipedal dragon.
“Yes, yes, I'm here, I'm ready.” Seneschal complained in a high-pitched voice, and then he vanished in a blurring of pixels as several blue-colored orbs whizzed out of the openings in the ring, these zipping up in front of Hecate before they all glowed brightly, the hologram of Seneschal reforming and lounging grumpily in midair. “But I'm not looking forwards to this, Queen Hecate. It would be much more intelligent to format sector-by-sector.”
“Are you afraid, Seneschal?” asked Hecate irritably, and the dragon immediately scowled at this before Hecate continued moodily: “If you don't feel that you are capable of erasing a splintered and corrupted AI, then by all means...”
Seneschal huffed loudly, straightening quickly before he rose a finger and said sharply: “I will have you know, Queen Hecate, that I estimate it will take me no longer than two hours, thirty-seven minutes, ten seconds, and eighty-nine milliseconds in order to complete the process of purging this philistine from the online zones.”
Hecate only smiled wryly: it hadn't surprised her in the slightest to find that the image build for the AI was based off of Valthrudnir himself. So was its personality... but Hecate had made a few minor tweaks here and there that she thought better suited the AI.
Seneschal scowled at her... and then gave a silent groan and rolled his eyes as Thorn called calmly: “Seneschal, please remember the chain of command. All concerns and complaints should be directed through me, first. If they are serious enough, I will forward them to Queen Hecate.”
“Brat.” Seneschal grumbled, and then the holographic image fizzled out before the three orbs whizzed quickly down, circling almost threateningly around Thorn as the program continued sourly: “Furthermore, I'll have you know that when addressed by name by Queen Hecate herself, I have no choice but to respond. I am a diligent and exceptionally punctilious support system, Thorn Blackfeather.”
Thorn only gave a wry smile, and then he asked: “How many Class I Dogmatists and Drones have yet to go into hibernation?”
“Eighty-nine percent have shut down, three percent are entering hibernation as we speak, and eight percent are still awake: of these, only some two percent are still finishing up the last of their tasks, and I've already commanded them to shut down once finished wherever they are, as these ones are located mainly in non-urban environments.”
Thorn glanced up at Hecate, and she gave the slightest of nods before the three blue orbs quickly assembled themselves and projected the image of the dragon standing with a scowl, hands on his hips as he did his best to loom over Thorn: but even if the holographic image was twice the size of the stallion, it was hard to be intimidated by a lanky, translucent, vaguely-effeminate hologram.
“You don't need to double-check my every adjudication with your mother, Thorn. I am a rational system designed specifically to optimize the behaviors and automation of Decretum. Pestering me to double-check my calculations and then aggravating the matriarch negates my attempts to enhance productivity.”
Thorn looked mildly up at the hologram for a few moments, and then he asked: “And when will these operations be completed, Seneschal?”
The AI program groaned silently and threw his arms wide before he grabbed his horns in vexation, grumbling: “Five minutes, thirty-eight seconds, at optimum efficiency.”
“Then for five minutes, thirty-eight seconds, your processes are idling and your only duties are to output these statistics as asked, correct?” Thorn pointed out, and Seneschal gave another silent groan as he dropped his arms and nodded, looking sulkily down at Thorn.
“I suppose that is irrefutable, yes.” Seneschal muttered, shaking his head slowly before he vanished in a buzz of static as the three orbs shot back down into a dais, the three spheres vanishing back into the slots they had emerged from.
Seneschal reappeared on the glowing platform, crossing his arms and scowling down at Thorn before he said grumpily: “Minor alert. Power fluctuation detected in sector five.”
Thorn tilted his head, and Hecate scowled down at the AI before saying irritably: “Thorn, have Seneschal test sector five's pipeline and generator systems, and run a scan for anomalies, including foreign sources of energy.”
Thorn began to open his mouth, and Seneschal flung his arms out, giving another silent groan as he whined: “I'm right here! I am not a... an ignorant child, to be spoken over the head of! And furthermore, I have already started all the requisite scans and system tests, I know my job perfectly well: again, need I remind you that-”
“Seneschal, quiet.” Hecate said flatly, and the AI winced as he fizzled with static, temporarily muted. “I will reduce you to text-based reports and limited responses if you continue to annoy me.”
Seneschal gave a silent groan, and Thorn looked meditatively up at the AI program: he wondered sometimes why it was that Hecate had programmed Seneschal to be as obnoxious and whiny as possible... but at the same time, this was some way to obtain a strange sort of bitter closure for the mechanical mare.
But Seneschal, whether he loved to complain or not, was as proficient at his job as he liked to brag; even as he let his head drop to the side and pouted like a child, he grumbled: “Very well. The reports are complete: we are under observation from Helheim-based morphologies.”
Thorn frowned at this, while Hecate snorted before muttering: “Of course. Hel will want to observe the chaos.” She stopped, then leaned forwards and ordered clearly: “Thorn, send out an order throughout Decretum. Any demonic entities, up to and including Hel herself, are to be treated with passive respect. Ignore them, do not engage them.”
“Orders confirmed and completed.” Seneschal said loudly, cutting Thorn off before he could speak. “And the last Drones are currently entering hibernation, ahead of schedule, I might add.”
“Wonderful.” Hecate said, voice dripping with sarcasm, and then she ordered coldly: “Seneschal, switch to low-power mode and pass your override authority to Thorn. Prioritize the appropriation of networks and control nodes over everything else, then work on erasing and consuming the Clockwork King programming.”
“Yes, yes, Queen Hecate. Cripple access, then leech data before deletion. It shall be done as you request.” Seneschal grumbled, then he crossed an arm over his chest and made an awkward little bow before vanishing with a stutter of pixels, even as his voice announced: “One hundred seconds – and counting – until operation begins.”
Hecate grunted, then she activated her lenses as several glass screens lowered from the ceiling around her, displaying statistics from all over Decretum as Thorn hurried towards a console, joining the other Dogmatists and Outworlders. All the computers and machinery here, at least, were new and thus free of the Clockwork King's infection, and further protected by Seneschal... and I only hope Seneschal's ego isn't blinding his logical systems...
It was a long one hundred seconds: Hecate was aware of every one as she waited uneasily, until Seneschal announced crisply: “Bringing sectors one through fifteen online, in thirty second-”
Static ripped through the speakers, and then an insane, high-pitched voice screamed: “Hecate! H-Hecate, I o-o-order you to cease and d-desist im... immediately!”
“Seneschal, mute him.” Hecate said, scowling in disgust up at the closest speaker mounted on the wall. She didn't know if she should feel worried or contemptible by the fact that-
“We have hostile programming trying-” Thorn was cut off as the glass monitor he was working at sparked suddenly, wincing backwards. Outworlders around the room also flinched in surprise as several computers overloaded, sending up sparks and surging with electricity as the room's lights flickered violently, and the distorted, piercing 'ha-ha-ha's' of the Clockwork King echoed through the air.
Hecate ground her teeth together before the laughter suddenly cut out as the lights flickered again, and then Seneschal's voice echoed from the speakers with an all-too-alive tone of embarrassment: “Apologies! The Clockwork King has been shut out of the system, I... I apologize, I did not expect him to-”
“Apologies are useless. Assessment?” barked Hecate, as several monitors sizzled with static around her before information began to slowly scrawl across them... but much slower than usual, she noted. That meant either Seneschal was borrowing processing power, or the Clockwork King had attacked more than just their hardware...
“Intrusions into servers, security nodes detected: the programming is different from what I expected, the splintered programming must have attempted to reconstitute itself in different sectors in different ways...” Seneschal said uneasily, sounding the slightest bit defensive before there was a blare of static from the speakers, followed by a garbled: “Sorry, sorry! Systems are under attack again, parameters... did not account for...”
There was another blare of static, and then the Clockwork King snarled through the speakers: “H-Hecate, this is V-Valthrudnir! I have... e-evolved into... my data has t-transferred into t-the... g-give me back my f-f-facilities, I o-order you!”
Hecate scowled, then quickly created a holographic keypad in front of her before tapping in a ten-digit override code: immediately, there was a squall of static from the speakers before the Clockwork King screamed: “In-In-Ingrate! Re-re-reject... access denied!”
“Engage override. Codeword: Saxum Tarpeium.” Hecate said coldly, and there was another squall of sound from the speakers before Hecate added contemptibly: “Any possible 'data' from Valthrudnir was eradicated a long time ago.”
The Clockwork King snarled from the speakers, then spat: “O-Override d-d-d-denied! I ha-have evolved beyond... b-b-beyond... I am Valthrudnir!”
“Seneschal! Status report!” snapped Hecate, and there was a buzz of static before a stream of data sped down one of her lenses, and Hecate snarled in disbelief: there wasn't any strategy, any logic to what the Clockwork King was doing: he was simply attacking the Seneschal AI wildly from all sides, converging almost every byte of his splintered programming on top of his computerized opponent. The little that wasn't, the Clockwork King AI was focusing on corrupting and infecting the processes and data nodes of Genesis' systems... showing he wasn't completely stupid after all.
If he managed to jam up Seneschal for long enough, then they might actually be faced with a problem: if the Clockwork King chewed his way through their firewalls and security protocols, then he might be able to infect their servers and spread himself throughout all the activated sectors of Decretum...
“Seneschal, tar all data connections and cut all contact to the BEAR servers.” Hecate ordered, and there was a blurt of static from the speakers as the statistics on the monitor abruptly changed, showing a drop in connection strength as several monitors around the room stuttered.
There was a sizzle from the speakers before the Clockwork King snarled: “Encrypted d-data? Y-Y-Your ph-philistine security codes are... n-no match for my s-superior...”
There was a blast and crackle of static, and then even Hecate grimaced as the Clockwork King screamed loudly enough to cause several of the speakers to blow out, as he howled miserably: “W-What is... s-s-system malfunction! System malfunction!”
“Idiot.” Hecate said coldly, and then she ordered: “Seneschal, quarantine as much of the Clockwork King's data as possible. Erase the rest.”
“Yes, Queen Hecate, of course.” came Seneschal's embarrassed voice from the speakers, over the buzzing and crackling of the other AI. At least one good thing would come of this experience, and that was properly chastening Seneschal: perhaps the arrogant AI would even learn something from this whole experience. And to think, Seneschal had whined at first that there was no need for Hecate to set up a server as a honeypot, with a data-eating worm laying in wait.
The next three hours were tense, but mostly uneventful: there were still the occasional blares of static, the lights flickering, the computers freezing up or resetting themselves as alien code attempted to take them over. Hecate and Thorn both monitored the situation as best they could, while Seneschal gave quick reports every fifteen minutes or so.
But finally, Seneschal was able to report in a nervous voice: “All hostile activity has been removed, and... all sectors are reporting back as clean. Corrupted sectors have been repaired and reformatted, and the Clockwork King's presence can no longer be detected...”
“Which means nothing. We still have many more sectors to activate, and other data nodes to remove and reprogram.” Hecate replied irritably, before continuing: “Even if the AI program somehow developed a psychotic delusion – perhaps testament to the unparalleled genius of Decretum's former ruler – the Clockwork King is still an advanced AI system. There may be disguised or hidden data clusters that still need to be purged from the system.”
Seneschal grumbled, but it was more of an embarrassed than annoyed sound, and the AI didn't quite dare to argue with Hecate right now as it presumably vanished off to do another scan of Decretum's systems at large.
Thorn, meanwhile, was scanning through the automated processes, studying them intently: with all the systems beginning to come online, he could see how much work they were going to be saved by Seneschal taking over their management: in the past, after all, they had always been forced to have Dogmatists and Enlisted Outworlders on duty, managing every molecule of fuel and power.
Furthermore, now that they could use more than the basic machinery and manual equipment, they could begin running the research and development facilities in earnest, along with several of the other more-advanced facilities. For so long, they had been concentrating on simply rebuilding Decretum: now they would finally be able to put all those facilities to use.
This would be an exciting time, and Thorn smiled a little as he shifted his way through screens before reporting: “It looks like everything's at optimum... there's some damage reported, but Worker Drones have already been deployed to make repairs.”
Hecate grunted, then she glanced to the side as an Enlisted Outworlder added: “Queen Hecate, all readings are nominal here, too. I'm all seeing signs that Seneschal has successfully taken over all systems and is keeping them at optimal capacity.”
The mechanical mare nodded, then returned her eyes to Thorn, the two trading a look before the young stallion gave her a hesitant smile. And after a moment, Hecate gave the slightest of smiles in response and agreement.
Maybe things were going to work out after all.
Maybe, just maybe... things were going to work out, after all.
It was an insane notion, here in this metal hell, and yet...
Maybe it was true. Maybe it was possible that even in hell, everything could turn out to be...
Princess Celestia vomited blood and black ichors all over herself, then shivered and hugged herself with a gasp as her mechanical body sparked, gears grinding painfully inside her flesh, the mare pulling on the wires and cables leading from her body into the terminals all around her. Her eyes rolled in her head as she moaned loudly, revealing rotten teeth, breathing out decay, as Valthrudnir snapped: “Beauty! Stabilize her, stabilize her now!”
“I... I-I-I can't! I don't understand, but I can't get-” And then the mare in the lab coat was smashed rudely out of the way as Valthrudnir leapt in front of the console, snarling as he hammered away at the controls before he stared in disbelief at the readings that came up over the screen.
But Celestia knew what they were telling him already, as she laughed weakly, bile spilling from her mouth, leaking out her nose and ears, as she felt her flesh peeling apart. Not rotting, not decaying, but there was so much energy, so much raw power in her body, that her form couldn't contain it all. After years and years of trying to do so, of stopgaps of mechanical parts and cybernetic frames, she could feel herself melting like wax.
“It's too late.” Celestia whispered, looking up at Valthrudnir as she felt her horn starting to sag, the spire sparking weakly: the precious material that made it up was too strong to give out, but she could feel her bones starting to turn to putty, and the base of the horn in her skull withering away... “You can't save me. You can't... keep me here anymore.”
“No!” Valthrudnir shouted, grabbing into the console in front of him, the Jötnar's eyes going wide before he trembled... then gritted his teeth, snarling over at Beauty as she began to climb to her mechanical feet: “Get out! Take your... all of you, get out!”
The Clockwork Ponies all turned and bolted, and Valthrudnir turned his furious eyes on Celestia... but there was pain there, too. Pain, and disbelief, and even fear, the dragon unable to keep his voice steady even as he said: “You forget yourself. I am Jötnar, and I can-”
“Not affect me, because your blood flows in my veins.” Celestia replied quietly, and Valthrudnir trembled weakly. “And a Jötnar's powers... cannot affect another Jötnar. Not even one as mighty and magnificent as you always claimed to be.”
“You are no Jötnar!” Valthrudnir held up a hand, his eyes flashing... and nothing happened. There was no burst of power, no wave of force, as Valthrudnir trembled and lost everything that he thought made him, him: the anger, the callousness, the hate. And instead, Celestia saw the person she had come to love, who was hidden under all those layers of arrogance and cruelty: the quiet little boy who tried too hard, who had grand visions of the future, who felt too deeply for the things he let into his beaten heart...
Celestia smiled at him faintly, then she reached up and touched her own steel-plated chest, saying softly: “I am no Jötnar. And that is precisely why this power is too much for me to handle. Valthrudnir... you have a gift. A wonderful gift. You can make what you decide reality... but look at me. Look at what happens when you abuse that gift, without considering the feelings of others. Look at what you've done to my world, and to the world you tried to claim as your own. No matter what you might say-”
“Do not lecture me, Celestia! T-This... this is not beyond my control!” Valthrudnir shouted, but his voice had a weak, pitiful edge to it: for all his size, he trembled, hunching his shoulders, looking very... small. Yes, Celestia thought, as she smiled faintly at the dragon: he looked very small from this angle... like a poor, lost little boy...
“No matter what you say, Valthrudnir... part of you always has, and always will care. Everything you've done, you've done to try and instill order in our universe...” Celestia chuckled softly, shaking her head slowly before she closed her eyes and murmured: “You always had to convince yourself that we were inferior, that we were like... insects, or ants, compared to you. But we're not, Valthrudnir... we're living, breathing, real people... not animals. Not puppets. Ponies, yes, but we... we feel, like you do. We have feelings, like you do...”
“An ignorant, filthy, atavistic savage like you knows nothing about me, cannot comprehend even the insult you speak by comparing yourself to my magnificence and omnipotence!” snarled Valthrudnir, shaking his head violently before he nearly tore the console out of the ground as he shoved his way past it, striding over to Celestia and reaching down to seize into a mane that had become a mix of tangled, greasy hair and electricity...
And Celestia didn't so much as flinch as she looked up at him with a smile, and he looked back at her, trembling, weakening under her gaze before he finally dropped his head, his fingers silently sliding down through her locks and touching her cheek, his palm silently sliding up along her face as Celestia said quietly: “You can't stop this... and that's okay. I'm ready to die, Valthrudnir.”
“I'm not ready to lose you. I... I don't...” Valthrudnir looked away for a moment... and then he stepped suddenly backwards, shaking his head weakly before he whispered: “I am... you're not supposed to be... I...”
Valthrudnir trembled, opening his mouth as his hands rubbed at his suit in a convulsive gesture... and then he turned and fled the room, knocking down a machine in his hurry to escape. But Celestia only smiled faintly as she watched him leave before she calmly started to detach the cables from her body, breathing slowly and steadily.
There was no more pain, after all. Even as her flesh was turning to sludge, even as she could almost feel every strand of her DNA coming unraveled, every molecule tearing itself free from her form, she could also feel... freedom, with it. A chance to escape the eternal clockwork of Valthrudnir's machinations, and this endless, dark romance between them...
As the remaining cables and instruments fell free from her body, Celestia turned and dragged herself towards the doors. She pushed her way through, and smiled faintly at the sight of Thesis, who stood in the middle of the hallway, trembling as he stared at her.
“Mother.” he whispered.
“Son.” Celestia replied softly, and she smiled.
For a moment, there was silence as Thesis licked his dry lips, looked away for a moment, tried to find the words... and then he looked towards her and said weakly: “This is not correct. I feel... inordinate neurochemical reactions. My neurons cannot process these faulty reactions.”
Celestia smiled again at this, shaking her head slowly before she said softly: “You're sad. That's alright, Thesis, that's... that's alright. You don't have to be, though. I'm ready to go, and I would like it to be as peaceful as possible. I...”
Celestia lowered her head a little, feeling a strange... tightness in her chest. A weight, like something was pressing against her ribs, and she shifted slightly before smiling faintly and whispering: “Thesis, please remember that not everything is about chemicals and biology. That family and friends, they are...”
The mare coughed, blood and bile dripping from her lips as her mechanical legs trembled beneath her, gears squalling inside her as her organs flexed and trembled, before her vision went blurry. And yet even as it did, she whispered: “I l-love...”
“Mother!” Thesis shouted, and Celestia smiled faintly even as she fell forwards, hearing her son in that voice, hearing his laughter, as hooves raced towards her.
She was barely aware of anything, except for blurry sounds and fragmented images, as static sparked every now and then over the lenses implanted on her eyes, giving her strange and surreal visions. She thought she saw snow, and angels dancing through the frost; she thought she saw a world where nature was boundless and unchecked, and yet ponies thrived and prospered all the same.
There was pain, and darkness for a time... and then sound. She was blind, but there was sound, as she shifted weakly and felt... strange. Too light, and empty, and... helpless. She frowned, and tried to breathe... but while she tasted the stale air, it didn't seem to go anywhere.
Was she dead? Was this Hell?
Then pain tore through her mind and she swore, head snapping back as a blue flash of agony seared her eyes. She tried to lean away from this until she realized she could see runes and numbers amid the flashes of color, and she realized after a moment that it had to be the lenses over her eyes.
Blurry shapes began to fade in as she groaned and tried to sit up... but for some reason, she couldn't. Her body felt... numb. No, that wasn't quite right...
Celestia opened her eyes... then screamed in agony as something shoved itself down into her skull, causing white-hot agony to tear through her system as she smelled smoldering flesh and burning rubber, the screaming whine of a drill filling her ears. She tried to tear away, but she couldn't move as something painfully crushed into either side of her head, a vise that kept her in place...
And then the pain was over, and Celestia was left rasping for breath before heard something under her whirring. There was a sense of movement and... lightness, and... like something was missing. Something impossible was missing, as she tasted coolant and blood in her mouth...
Her eyes blinked wearily as she rolled along a rail, then she frowned slowly as she found herself facing Valthrudnir. He sat back in a chair, looking at her silently, his fingers locked together but his thumbs still twiddling together nervously, as hard as he was trying to cover up his... his what? What was that emotion? Why was he...
And then Celestia trembled before she tried to look down. Neck muscles flexed, but she couldn't feel... I c-can't feel...
“Valthrudnir, what have you done? W-What have you done to me...” Celestia whispered, and Valthrudnir averted his eyes before Celestia tried to lean forwards, screaming as the crystalline prosthetic sticking out of her head flashed with power: “What have you done to me?”
Electricity tore through the room, the windows behind the Jötnar shattering, machinery buzzing and sparking and going haywire as the vise grips on either side of Celestia's head were torn open... and the lonely head fell to the wide rail with a thud, a mane of lighting and thick cables spilling over the metal and sending up crackles of power as blue tears rolled down Celestia's cheeks, joining the blue-tinged blood running from her freshly-implanted horn.
Valthrudnir swallowed and tugged at his collar, opening his mouth... but for once, there were no words. For the first time, he wasn't able to make up his reasons, his excuses, his defenses: all he could do was stare... and then retreat, lowering his head and striding towards the door.
He left her there, laying on the broken rail, rasping weakly for breath as information spilled over her lenses... until finally, Thesis entered the room. They looked at each other for a little while, and then Thesis said quietly: “We are being transferred to the Endworld dominion. You are being given operational control of the Hecate network.”
“Hecate.” the mare said bitterly, and then she laughed shortly before looking down and whispering: “What has he done to me, Thesis?”
“Repaired you. Returned you to operative status. Modified you to serve in a better function.” Thesis replied calmly, and the head that was all that was left of the mare snorted and tried to look away, even as tears threatened her eyes. “Come, Mother. We have our orders.”
“We do not have orders, Thesis. This is more like a sentence.” Celestia whispered, and then she laughed shortly and closed her eyes. “I was born first and alone on that world. I suppose it's fitting that I die alone there as well.”
Thesis only looked at her curiously, and then he said calmly, not understanding: “All experiences are solitary. We cannot experience the life of another. We do not have the capacity.”
“Capacities, chemicals, programming...” Celestia tried to shake her head... then laughed bitterly when she was unable to do that, before grimacing when Thesis picked her up. A shiver of pain went through her before her eyes widened as the stallion simply shifted her backwards towards a satchel, the mare crying out: “No, I'm... Thesis, I'm not just some piece of equipment that-”
“We are all equipment, machines that do the will of my Father.” Thesis replied, but he seemed to hesitate for a moment... yet only a moment, as he dropped the head into the bag, then simply closed the satchel, leaving Celestia breathing weakly in and out in the darkness that was lit only by her glowing, neon blue eyes. “I am a Replicant. I have accepted my position, my station in life. I recommend you do the same, Mother, as Endworld's master control unit in Hecate.”
“How can you call me Mother, and yet refer to me as nothing but... but a node in a network?” Celestia whispered from the darkness of the bag, trembling as blue tears ran down her cheeks. “Thesis, I thought... isn't there... don't you realize how wrong this has all gone? Valthrudnir... where is Valthrudnir! Bring me to-”
“I have my orders, and they are to merge you with Hecate.” Thesis halted, then said meditatively: “Although you are correct. Logically... you are going to be merged with Hecate. This will supersede your existence as Celestia.”
Celestia laughed weakly, and then she stared up at the cloth top of the satchel as she let herself sink back into the pack, amidst vials of poison, loose tools, microchips and transistors and all these synthetic parts that Valthrudnir had used to replace her son's soul... and... my own, too. Who am I to pretend otherwise? I'm... “Perhaps... you're right, Thesis...”
It was a long, bitter journey, and the head remained numb for most of it. She was barely even aware when she was attached to some strange pillar in Endworld, Thesis fitting her almost lovingly into the control station and attaching the cables that ran from her head into various terminals and data nodes, the mare feeling an influx of information, and computations, and electric dreams running through her mind, all of which made it so very easy to blot out her emotions, to kill the little pony that was left inside her...
Thesis stepped back and gazed at her calmly, and the head slowly looked up, meeting his eyes before she said quietly: “Hecate is online. Tell Valthrudnir...”
The mare didn't have the words, but it didn't matter. Thesis, her once-son, bowed his head to her before he hesitantly looked up and said quietly: “Family is the most important thing in the universe. I understand that, just as I have come to acknowledge that Valthrudnir is my father, and we all have a place in his world. Mother... he saved you. He'll save us all.”
“He killed your mother. I am Hecate.” retorted the mare ruthlessly, and Thesis frowned slightly.
“But... there was no programming, no new chemicals were introduced, your physiology was not modified beyond-”
“One day, Thesis, you will understand that not everything can be easily quantified. One day, Thesis, you'll learn to just accept the words of your betters.” Hecate said harshly, and Thesis blinked in surprise before she snarled: “Get out of my sight.”
“I feel... strange.” Thesis said quietly, hesitantly rubbing at his face and chewing on his lip before he nodded slowly, stepping backwards almost nervously before murmuring: “I'll submit my report to Valthrudnir, Mother.”
Hecate only glared at her son until he turned and left: but the moment the door closed, Hecate trembled and lowered her head, breathing hard as statistics and graphs scrolled over her glowing eyes, blurring as tears of betrayal and anguish and bitter, growing hatred suffused her vision...
And then Hecate opened her eyes and looked calmly up from the metal pillar her head was currently plugged into, the mare cracking her neck moodily before she looked across her sparse, mostly-empty room to where her mechanical body was currently resting back against the wall, secured by several large large clamps in a standing position as its batteries slowly but steadily recharged.
“Systems on.” Hecate said moodily, and the dome-shaped crystals embedded in the walls throughout the room all gleamed brightly, projecting holographic screens with all the information Hecate would need to judge Decretum's status at a glance. And for the first time, she was able to look up and feel like everything was performing adequately.
The mare nodded moodily after a moment to herself, then her eyes drifted slowly to a small table at one corner of the room, near her pedestal. She softened a little as she gazed at it for a few moments, then turned herself as best she could to look at the two pictures she kept, to remind herself of what she had, and what life had brought her.
One was Thesis, from so many years ago: the picture was ancient, and yet it still held up, even after all these years, with how she kept it under a vacuum-sealed frame. She smiled briefly at it, studying it silently for a few moments, and then her eyes roved slowly over to the other, much-more-recent framed picture.
It was Thorn, dressed in the cape she'd given him for his eighteenth birthday. It was designed to hang off one side of his body, so he could hide his prosthetic leg... but Thorn, being Thorn, wore it the opposite way, leaving his scars and metal limb exposed to the world. She chuckled quietly after a moment, then shook her head slowly. Well, we all have our scars. Maybe there's wisdom in... sharing our stories with the world.
Hecate's eyes shifted towards her mechanical body, and then she barked: “Activate!”
The enormous, headless steel suit jerked against the clamps restraining it, and these beeped and released her body after a moment, which lumbered calmly across the room to reach down and gently grasp her by either side of the face. Hecate scowled a little as the head unscrewed her from the pedestal before sliding the connector on her neck carefully into the slotted throat of the machine. With a few easy spins, her head was screwed in tight; a click, and a moment later, a steel collar locked into place around her throat to suitably protect and anchor her into position.
The mare absently cracked her neck, then flicked her claws out a few times as she assumed total control of her body. She checked herself quickly over as one of her lenses lit up with a quick update on her suit's status, and then she absently reached up and tapped on her steel chest, muttering: “I'll need to run maintenance on this body in a few days. Seneschal, schedule a suit change and two days' of workshop time. I'll do a full diagnostic of this body while I'm at it.”
A loud sigh echoed through the room, and then the image of the dragon appeared on one of the translucent screens, complaining: “I am not your butler-”
“No, you are not. You are merely a hoofservant. Now do as I ordered, Seneschal.” Hecate said irritably, and Seneschal gave a loud huff in response to this before the mare added moodily: “And furthermore, I want to begin searching for Outworlders to join our ranks sooner rather than later. Has Thorn made any progress with bringing the SUN online?”
“The Small Uplink Nexus – or SUN, as you so wittily put it – is nearly online. Thorn has submitted a report and has been pestering me constantly about diverting the Worker Drones from their harvesting duties, but so far I have denied him.” Seneschal said, with some strange measure of pride. “I feel that-”
Hecate created a holographic screen in front of herself, but she didn't even wait for Thorn's report to load before she ordered: “Divert Worker Drones from the eastern wastes. Getting the SUN online is much more important than harvesting fuel.”
Seneschal groaned loudly, then gestured sharply to the side and complained: “Queen Hecate, as we bring more facilities online, we consume more fuel! I understand that currently there is a surplus stock, but it is unwise to expect-”
“Orphans.” Hecate interrupted, and she frowned a little as Seneschal stared at her dumbly from the screen. Then the mare looked up, repeating almost questioningly: “Orphans?”
Seneschal stared at her, then said slowly: “We cannot fuel Decretum by burning children, if that's what you happen to be thinking. Decretum does not have enough-”
“No, you idiot.” Hecate said disgustedly, glowering over at Seneschal, who hurriedly shrank his head between his shoulders. “Thorn referred to the Outworlders as Orphans here.”
“An autocorrect error, I'm sure. Although I am rather surprised that-”
“You are the most useless program I have ever created.” Hecate stated sourly, and Seneschal huffed loudly at this before Hecate returned her eyes to the report, scanning quickly through it before she muttered again: “Orphans.”
Seneschal was smart enough not to say anything this time as Hecate pondered on a few of the lines Thorn had written: the entire report she had scanned, her computer-enhanced brain highlighting keywords of interest and letting her focus her attention on the text in particular that had caught her eye:
...soon, we will be able to find and secure other 'orphans' such as myself, and adopt them into our facilities and family...
Hecate smiled briefly after a moment, then she nodded slowly before saying calmly: “Orphans. Strange, but accurate. The Outworlders we draw in here are strong, resilient, often extremely skilled or talented... but they lack connections. All of them share that in common: they have been ostracized from society. They no longer belong in their own world.”
Seneschal frowned out of the screen, then he asked slowly: “And this has any bearing whatsoever upon the current state of affairs because...”
Hecate looked moodily over at the screen, and then she ordered: “Update all data, files, and associations. Enlisted Outworlders are now to be referred to as 'Orphans.' Furthermore, our Enlistment facility will now be known as the Orphanage. Understood?”
Seneschal gave a silent groan, grabbing at his horns before he exclaimed: “Do you understand how much time this pointless busywork will consume? Furthermore, I am not going to attribute such a minor task more than the barest base of processing power, and-”
“It will take approximately twenty days and thirteen hours, so I recommend you get started now. Of course, if you like, I can reroute some of the processing power used to give you voice and imaging to speed up the task.” Hecate retorted, and Seneschal winced a bit, slowly slinking down through the bottom edge of the screen under the mare's baleful gaze.
“Yes, Queen Hecate.” Seneschal said finally, lowering his head respectfully, and then the AI program quickly vanished from sight.
Hecate returned her eyes to Thorn's report for a moment, then she smiled briefly before flicking a claw to the side and dismissing the illusion. Orphans... it was fitting. And she supposed that part of what she offered these Outworlders was a good home, even if she made them work hard.
Her eyes flicked towards the photographs on the table, and then she gently picked the framed picture of Thesis up, saying softly after a moment: “But I suppose it's still true, even today, Thesis.
“Nothing is more important than your family.”