//------------------------------// // Chapter 11: Within the System // Story: Awoke IN // by Qwix //------------------------------// Numerous sounds came from every direction, each more perplexing than the last. Among them were the hoofsteps of at least a dozen beings, accompanied with a low rumble of voices. As the lift came to a quiet hiss and stopped, he tried lifting his arm to see. "Title and authentication?" came a flat voice. "The Great and Powerful Princess Mi Amoré Flutter Sparkle Applebottom, you fuckstick. Who do you think I am?" "Welcome back, correspondent Vendetta. Crescent Minor Phobos heard you were coming and has asked you to debrief him in Room O—" "Shove it, Mers. ...This is the pony I messaged you about, by the way. Hey Pennaprose, you know those fancy glasses of yours have an auto-tinter, right? Look around." He carefully lifted his arm, revealing his surroundings through his quickly-dimming lenses. Everything in the room was an inexplicably dazzling white—the coats worn by the ponies milling about, the floor, the walls, everything. Past Vinyl was a monitor several dozen meters high that melded with the walls. He felt a lurch of vertigo as he surveyed the room. "Ah. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lochflow. If you would come with me, I shall answer your first three questions before explaining everything else..." The pony he took to be Mers was standing with a clipboard in one hoof and a piercing look. His mane—a solid block of pink—covered one of his two magenta eye and reached down to the floor. His coat was dark grey; he gestured with a tattered wing as he left, making an odd clinking sound. He gave Vinyl a questioning glance, only to be met with a smirk. "I'm off to do my thing. Mers will get you situated." He furrowed his brows, but trotted off after Mers. As he caught up, he noticed a small metal antenna protruding from the back of his head. "Sir, are you familiar with what PINCH's directives are?" asked Mers. He stared. "Um, Gosthette didn't say much in the way of specifics. Neither did Vinyl—" "Well then," sighed Mers. "That is simply another thing I get to explain. But first and foremost... my title and actual name is New Major Merscine. Everyone simply shortens it to Mers for reasons I cannot fathom of living tissue." "Huh?" "Second off, I am aware you have already noticed a few telltale signs. Before you inquire as I explain far more important things, I am an android interested in physical augmentation." He twisted his neck around and brushed his mane aside, revealing his other eye through a split of hair. It was an expanse of glass and black iron, lit with neon lights that danced across his iris. "Oh...kay then. That's interesting," he quipped. "Mercury it is, then." They passed through a doorway, unusually wide. No door swung shut behind them. "Third answer. This facility is lit to an obscene degree, as you've noted," he said, waving a lazy hoof around him. "It is designed as it is to maximize visibility of agents in here. And..." A whirring sound came from the ground. It spilt open, letting a table rise up, also lit from underneath. "It is to remind us all that no matter how pious our motives, how pure our intentions..." His mane fell aside completely for a brief moment, revealing an overlarge expanse of sickly pale metallic white, broken by an intense point of red. It bounced around for a few seconds before intensely fixating on him too much for his own comfort. "We all cast a shadow somewhere, no matter how hard we try to hide." ——3 hours later—— He walked out of the room, head spinning. Mers was smiling rather nonchalantly behind him, much to his annoyance. "Now that I've caught you up on everything you are authorized to know—" "There's more?" Pennaprose shot in irritation. "Geez..." "—we need to outfit you for your mission. After that, we're due for a meeting with the Full Major," he finished, trotting in front of him. "The one in Las Pegasus?" he asked. "Where B—" "NOT," cut in Merscine. "Out. Here. Though I cannot sense anyone in this hall unauthorized to know of it, you must get into the habit of knowing who is allowed to know what. Such negligence will kill you in the field." He huffed, scowling at him. "Says you and everyone I've met from PINCH. All these secrets... why bother having such a blindingly white headquarters designed to expose ponies while doing to opposite for knowledge?" He could almost hear gears turning in his mind which, he reminded himself, probably was what he was hearing. "A necessary caution, Mr. Lochflow. While newer recruits unfailingly air the same complaint, it has a sole purpose that experience with our trade confers. And that is that trust based on faith is useless." "Then answer me this, at least. That is, if you are all right in answering it." He twisted his neck to look back. Disconcertingly, it was his robotic eye. "Are you a pony who chose to augment you body? Or a robot who chose to augment your mind?" "My brain is currently operating at 15.7 percent capacity, and I register a slight creak in my front right leg's joint—" "That's not the question I asked." "Then I fear I do not understand your question." "Do you forge onward to find strength? Or do you dream of knowing life?" asked Pennaprose. "That is a different question than the first." "It isn't." Merscine twisted his head around the other way, letting his organic eye look on at him. As he did, something changed in his expression, but he could put into words exactly what it was. "...I was originally a robot by choice that gained a conscious through analyzing my own decisions. That is all." He turned back around and stopped. "Ah. Here we are." Pennaprose blinked; they were stopped in front of a sleek black door that stood out like a weed. Merscine tapped a hoof against the center; the touch caused it to melt away into nothing. Stepping inside, Pennaprose's jaw dropped. The room was circular, outfitted with obscene amounts of refined weaponry and numerous gadgets behind an immaculate wall of glass. If he didn't blink a few times, he could have sworn he was dreaming. "Countess, a standard field issue pack, if you please. Unilock." He stared onwards as some unknown force sucked various gadgets behind the glass upward to places unknown. In mere moments, a hatch slid open in the ceiling and deposited a briefcase on a table in front of them that had risen to meet it. "Go on, take it." He hesitated, then picked it up with his magic. As he did, a small beep emitted from it and one of the sides flashed briefly. "That case and it's contents are now registered to your magic signature. Only you can open it," explained Merscine. "I have uploaded a guide to your glasses for you to peruse at your leisure. But for now, we have a meeting to attend. Come." He sighed, feeling underwhelmed. Clean, efficient, streamlined... everything an organization needs to be to fight in secret. But, he wondered, have I fallen into a nightmare? Or a dream? And what place do dreams have in such a manor? I feel as if I don't belong here. Gosthette must be perfectly at home here, though. WHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIINNNNNGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOA A klaxon alarm sounded, causing him to jump in surprise. "What the hell?" "Figure Six, sector one. Intrusion by a currently unknown entity. Contacting base manifold..." reported Merscine. Pennaprose could spot several flashes of color flashing wildly across his mechanical eye. He set off at a brisk pace, back towards the main room. Pennaprose galloped after him, curious. "NMI Marsciline, FQMA Junaz, 3CMI Euraipior, respond! Minors, close the main escape route! Major Junaz, you're the closest! What's the entrance's status!?" A translucent screen appeared hovering in the air in front of him, containing a single line going across. A voice, deep and booming, accompanied it. "No need to raise the alarm, Mers. It's a chai tea alarm. Guess who set it off?" Mers gave out an audible snort, then the alarm subsided until it was replaced with a jazzy down tempo piece of music. "Dammit, this is the fourth time! Any more of these stunts and I'm going to have to ask FMA Elunar to discipline her..." He stopped, took a breath, then continued at a leisurely pace. "I believe you're looking for somepony?" He pushed past, almost smacking him in the face with his new briefcase. Against the steady metal sound of his hooves beating a fast rhythm on the metal, he could only think one thing. Thanks for saving me the trouble!