//------------------------------// // Act 3 Chapter 24 // Story: Collision Code // by SSJRandomMaster //------------------------------// Act III: Collision of Wills Chapter 24: The Weakest Mind of All ------------------------------------------ I can’t believe it. Somehow or other, I’d fallen, but I was picked right back up again. Things here do seem to favor the power of redemption. And I really do think that I can do it. I just have to find my way first… If only there were a way to silence that anger at the back of my head, always burning, always there to throw me off if things aren’t going as expected…   Corey paused, looking down at the words on the notebook with nothing but disgust. With a loud scoff, he reached to the page and tore it out of the book in one swift movement. His hands molded the “bad writing” into a firm, crumpled mess of ink and paper. He stared at the resulting trash with sad eyes, before it turned into frustration once more.   “No good…” he said, slowly lifting and tossing it over his shoulder. It soon joined the other paper balls on the floor, which noticeably filled up a significant area of the floor. Corey’s vision soon turned back to the notebook, the scrap paper left in the bindings now the only evidence he’d tried to write in it again.   “It doesn’t work,” Corey said, “Venting about it only makes the memories worse…Even thinking of talking about it is enough to get it to stir. Putting all of that into words…”   Corey’s facial muscles twitched as he considered trying again. But with the remnants of at least twenty attempts now scrapped, scattered around him as a testament to his inability to do much with his experience, he didn’t know if he could. With a resigned sigh, Corey stood up, fiddling with his glasses all the while.   “Maybe a walk will clear my head,” Corey said, nodding to convince himself. He then started out of the room, lightly kicking a few paper scraps out of the way before leaving. He looked around the library as he did so, lightly hearing Twilight humming. The sound soothed him at first, but the more he listened to it, he suddenly found himself feeling worse. But why? It wasn’t any different, and she didn’t seem to hate him for what he’d done.   Now feeling worse because he felt like he wasn’t expressing enough gratitude, Corey picked up the pace. Within a few moments, he was out the front door to the library, emerging to a cloudy, gray sky. It was probably scheduled to rain today. Corey scoffed. Of course he’d pick the one day in a week that it was scheduled. Oh well… time to make the best of it, he guessed.   The air outside was mildly chilly, as though it was fall. Which was fine. He had his jacket on, after all. After taking a moment to adjust it and zip it up, he was well on his way. Perhaps he’d see who he could meet today. After the first few days here, he did at least know a few people. Even if they did doubt he was using his real name.   Corey continued to stroll. However, as he looked around, his ears flicking ever so often, he realized something. No sooner than he left the library, he couldn’t hear anything. Nopony was walking around in the street. Nopony was flying around above. Even if the weather team’s job was done, it still seemed like something should be done. It was too quiet, too still, even for a small village like this.   Corey slowed to a halt in the middle of an intersection. He blinked a few times, and with each blink, the air seemed to get colder and colder. The clouds seemed to be leaking down from the skies above, forming an increasing dense layer of fog. And yet, no one seemed to comment on this. Still no one came out to see what was happening. This usually didn’t happen. Corey felt an empty pit form into his stomach, and quickly tried to correct it, feeling isolated more and more.   “Hello?” called out Corey to the empty air, “Is anyone out here?”   All he could hear was an echo in response. No one was there. For several long moments, Corey stood in silence, hearing the remnants of his question fade into silence. He gave a sigh, but then stiffened, his ears flicking up, as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind him. He turned around, but didn’t see anyone approaching through the fog.   “What was that…?” Corey said to himself, before shaking his head, already starting to walk down the road once more. The streets remained barren, devoid of life, and soaked in fog. As he continued to walk, the air seemed to get colder. His breath soon became visible.   “What is with the weather today?” Corey wondered aloud, just before his ear twitched in response. Again, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. He turned, and squinted, still hearing the sound. However, nothing came. Corey’s left ear twitched, and so he turned to the left, but whatever was causing the noise had already moved again.   Getting the feeling he really didn’t want to be caught here, Corey turned around completely, and began walking towards home. At first, he was doing a power walk, checking his surroundings. But, as he continued to move, he could hear movement all around him, and when he turned his head to one side to look, he saw… something in the fog.   Corey’s walk soon broke into a run. Frantically checking his surroundings, he found the fog seemed to be getting thicker still, and he could barely see around any corners. He didn’t know how close or far he was from the library, and he didn’t even know where in Ponyville he was, but still he kept running. That is, until he saw it.   A flash of crimson, in the shape of a unicorn. One that Corey knew all too well.   “Slayer!?” Corey yelled, immediately stopping himself from running and turning around. He froze in place, getting ready for anything.   “No…no… it can’t be. He can’t have healed already, right?” Corey asked, “If he has…”   The sounds of movement stopped. Corey squinted his eyes dead ahead of him, finding that the silhouette was now walking straight towards him, through the fog. It moved excruciatingly slowly, and the whole time, Corey could only watch.   What am I going to do? I have no magic…and I’m not at the top of my game right now… thought Corey anxiously, waiting for Slayer to step out of the dense fog. The figure drew closer and closer, but as he did, Corey noticed that something about the silhouette in the fog was changing. The unicorn’s horn was starting to vanish; in fact, most of the defining characteristics were. The ears were vanishing under a sphere, the arms were vanishing under some kind of cloth, and overall, the form was changing as it got closer.   Corey felt his stance start to relax a bit, but he still remained wary. Nothing was going right at all. Then, the figure stepped forward completely.   “You’re not…” Corey said, blinking a few times as his vision adjusted.   “Indeed, I am not who you think I am,” said the cloaked figure.   “Then…who are you? What are you doing here?” Corey asked of the figure. The figure remained silently, slowly spreading his arms out to his sides before lifting them above his head.   “Who am I, indeed,” said the figure. His voice was surprisingly monotone, but he didn’t seem to be in the mood to answer Corey’s question.   “Are you one of the escaped prisoners?” Corey asked, now feeling wary that he was having to go up against another one.   “I suppose you could say that,” said the cloaked figure, “But I’m so much more than just one of those…”   Corey took a step back, wondering what the hell this one was going on about.   “I am the truth that lurks in the back of your mind, the despair that waits around every twist and turn,” The figure said, “I know quite a bit about you, and as you can tell, I just had to pay you a visit.”   “Why me?” Corey asked, now really not liking where this was going.   “I think you already know,” said the figure, now lifting what looked like a clawed paw of some kind—canine in nature, perhaps? Or feline, one of the two, “Your mind is weak, brought down by your own weaknesses of character. You’re on the verge of sinking into despair already.”   Corey’s eyes went wide, as he started to realize what all this meant and what all this was.   “And no one, not even your friends, can come to save you from me,” said the figure.   No… Corey thought, closing his eyes and shaking his head as the realization threatened to consume him entirely before the figure had a chance to. I can’t fight... and he knows it… I’m alone in here… and he knows it…He’s right!   Without even thinking twice about it, Corey turned, and began to take off at a full sprint. There was no way he could possibly take anyone on in his condition. Right now, his only focus was to find a spot to hide, somewhere, anywhere, just until he could collect himself enough to get himself out of this ever-increasing nightmare.   Corey took the first turn he could think to turn, only slowing down enough so he could at least see where he was about to go next. However, he didn’t make it far. He stopped dead in his tracks, and even took a step back in horror as he realized that the cloaked figure from before was now down the path he was on.   “You’re running…” The figure said, “But it’s no use. The despair already exists in you, and you cannot escape it now…”   Corey took a couple of steps back. With a sharp grunt, he turned, running the other way. He didn’t dare looking back, for fear he’d see the cloaked figure chasing him down at warp speed. There had to be somewhere he could go. He just managed to turn down the first corner he’d saw, when he found himself face-to-shadow with the cloaked figure once again.   “There’s nowhere you can go,” One of the hands raised up to point at him again, “Why waste the energy? You never want to anyway…”   Corey turned around, belting out a “Shut up!” as he turned and ran down the other way. He was panting heavily, the stress of the situation causing him to pant heavily. As he ran, he swore he felt the air was getting even colder now, and the fog was making it even harder to see. Yet still he ran, hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe he’d be able to just escape this new foe.   Corey’s head instinctively turned, even as his rationality warned him not to, and found that whoever it was wasn’t chasing him. Yet, as he turned around again to face forward, he stopped. The cloaked figure was waiting for him to run right into him, arms spread out expectantly.   “Just surrender,” The hauntingly soulless voice chilled him to the core, “Surrender yourself to your endless despair.”   Corey stood in place, gritting his teeth. This guy was just warping everywhere, and there didn’t seem to be anywhere to run. He looked around, trying desperately to find any means of escape. He squinted his eyes as hard as he could, and just in the distance—or was it close by, he couldn’t tell with the now intense fog, he saw something. It looked like a door to a building.   Maybe I can hide in there… thought Corey, not even bothering to second-guess himself before he took off running, sprinting right for the door. As he made his way in that direction, he could hear the figure’s voice hissing:   “It’s useless…”   He paid it no mind, already figuring out this was more mind games. If he stayed too long, he’d have been caught in them for sure. The fog impeded his vision, but the building drew closer and closer. Without even pausing, he reached out with one hand, turning the door knob to find that the knob gave way. In one swift movement, Corey yanked the door wide open and slipped inside, making sure to close it afterward.   The inside of the building he’d run into didn’t seem that different from the rest of this ever-growing nightmare. It seemed like a pretty simple house. It sort of reminded him of his home back home, only without the big-screen TV at the north wall. The couch and rocking chair were all made of leather, but the home was so, so cold, like it was the dead of winter. Though there was no fog inside, with how everything was unfolding, Corey was pretty sure it was entirely possible for that to start at any point.   Yet, as he looked around what looked like his old house, Corey realized that even this place was quiet. Quiet and barren.   “What…what is all this?” asked Corey, now standing in the middle of the living room once again.   “It’s what you are on the inside,” said the figure’s voice. Corey’s eyes shrunk to pinpricks as he realized that even here, he wasn’t safe, “Empty. Cold. Full of nothing but the despair you feel…”   “Just leave me alone!!” Corey shouted, already starting to move. He already knew where he’d wanted to go. It was through the small hallway, and to the right, through the door, to his room. Once again, he opened the door and closed it shut behind him. However, as soon as he took two steps into what he thought was his room, he stopped.   There was nothing here. Nothing was how he’d remembered it. It didn’t have a bed. It didn’t have a dresser. His closet was missing, along with everything else material. Hell, the room didn’t even have windows.   “This is…” Corey said, only to turn as the door sprang back open behind him, revealing that same cloaked figure, “Damn…!”   “There’s nowhere left to run,” said the figure, “Now, prepare to drown in your fears…”   Corey grit his teeth. There was no way out…unless…   His fist closed tightly, and Corey forced himself to focus. There was no telling if it would even work, but if he didn’t do something, anything, he’d be taken out right here. Silently, he urged his magic to work.   Weakly, runes began to appear around his fist, spreading off in jagged directions. Only a few managed to go in. His horn’s glow was also vaguely sparking to life, nothing like how it had looked before the events up north.   This isn’t stable… I have to move now… Corey thought, and with a heavy gulp, he rushed the figure, right fist cocked back and ready to go. The figure stood motionless, surprised, perhaps. Corey’s fist made contact… but that was it. The figure didn’t budge, nor flinch. The spell, if it even was one, had no effect.   “D-damn it…ugh!” The figure immediately grabbed hold of his arm and twisted it behind his back, turning him around, preventing him from getting away. There was an uneasy silence as Corey tried in vain to pry himself loose from the face.   “That spell…” The voice seemed different, vaguely…impressed, perhaps? No, that wasn’t it, “No, it’s different… But still. It looks like hers…”   Hers…? Corey wondered what he meant, enough to cease his struggle for half a second.   “Looks like whose…?” Corey asked.   “There’s no need to explain…” The figure said, as one of his paws found its way to the sides of Corey’s head. ----------------------------------------- John looked around the world he was now in. This certainly wasn’t the library. He wasn’t sure where he was. However, as the chill fully hit him—hard, he was cold-blooded now, after all, he began to understand what happened. He was in a basement—no, that wasn’t just it. He was in a dream…   “How…how did I…?” asked John, wondering just how he’d managed to get himself in this. Above, he heard a very distinct shout.   “D-damn it…ugh!”   “Corey!?” asked John, immediately racing up the steps, turning left and making his way towards the source of the sound. He moved quickly, and as he got closer, it was almost like the air got even colder. He eventually slowed to a stop in a doorway, seeing the same cloaked figure from his own dream…and Corey, now firmly in his grasp, one paw to each side of Corey’s head.   “One down,” said the figure, using that same flat monotone he’d possessed earlier, as a purple glow began to cover his hands, which sunk deep into Corey’s skull.   “No!” John shouted, causing the figure to turn his head.   “Oh? You made it?” asked the figure, “Well… it seems you’re too late…”   No sooner than the figure finished his statement did John see a massive explosion of black energy. The massive shockwave hit John’s body hard, and he felt himself lift from his feet as the black energy consumed everything around him… ----------------------------------------- Twilight watched in stunned silence at what was happening in front of her. Moments ago, while trying to wake the sleeping Corey, she’d noticed a glow coming from beside her. The glow was emanating from John’s own eyes in a manner she had seen before. But glowing eyes was the least shocking thing she would see today. From John’s head, a strand of magic had extended out, and latched on to Corey’s head. After that, John too, went still, his body unmoving for several long minutes.   “He… knows magic?” Twilight asked herself. The idea of a dragon being able to use a form of magic wasn’t new to hear. Spike’s message sending was something he knew how to do from the start. But what John was doing was reminiscent of magic Twilight had only seen one other do in the past.   “But when did he…” Twilight would have to find the answer to that some other day as something began to change in the magic strand connecting John to Corey. Originally white in color, the strand’s hue began to change, growing darker and darker by the second. The strand of magic began to thrash about wildly as its glow began violent. For the first time in a while, John began to show signs of movement and strain. Soon, the glow became too much for Twilight’s eyes, and she shielded them as the strand of magic erupted.   The magic expelled from the explosion was fierce, enough to knock John backwards; she could tell that even before her eyes opened. She opened her eyes then, to see John on his knees, both hands over his head as he looked to the ground.   “Dammit, dammit!” John said, slamming his fist on the ground, cracking the floorboards.   “W-what happened?” Deep down, Twilight already knew what happened, but a part of her wished it wasn’t true. But when John looked back to her, staring directly into her eyes, she knew there was no hope. Quickly, she looked back at Corey. His body started to twitch, and his face contorted in anguish. Twilight felt her heart race, wondering just what was happening now.   Then the screaming began. Corey belted out one howl of anguish after another, his body starting to thrash. Twilight immediately rushed to his side, trying something, anything to wake him up. She tried calling out to him, to try to get through to him. Even whatever magic she tried to get him to wake didn’t work.   “Nothing’s working…!” Twilight said, turning back to John for an answer. John stood up, but he didn’t meet her eyes this time. Finally, he spoke up: four simple words.   “I was too late…”