The Monster Below: Nightfall

by Greenback

Bonus Material: Facing the Future (Original Version)

As described in a few blogs, this was a phenominally difficult chapter to write. Originally, the last chapter would cover Silverspeak's efforts to overcome his depression and end with him marrying Beakbreaker, but it was ultimitely cut, as I realized I could summarize this chapter in a few pages in the final story.

***

I’m... I’m in a room. It’s bare and cold, with only a window on the wall, revealing a nighttime storm raging outside. Where... where am I? I can... I can feel cables, tubes, and wires hooked into my back, but I feel light. I look down. My chest is gone, and so are my legs, replaced by mechanical innards dangling and swaying above the floor. They wiggle as my unseen heart beats within them.

What happened to me? H... how did I get here? Am I dying? Oh please, Celestia, let me be dying. Let me feel my body and mind shutting down. I thought I knew what pain was. I’ve been cut open without painkillers. I’ve been imprisoned and gone through the hell of paranoia and madness. I’ve seen Equestria united against me, and I’ve seen my dreams wither and die. But this is so much worse.

My mother and father are dead. I could have saved them, but I didn’t.

I killed my own parents.

A door opens.

“Silverspeak?”

I look up. Beakbreaker’s before me.

“Beakbreaker...”

She touches me. “I’m here.”

“Where am I?” My voice is older and broken. I don’t recognize it.

“The castle’s medical wing,” Beakbreaker says, keeping her voice steady and calm. “Your body gave out. We had to bring you here. The last TechInc technicians are crafting a new body for you.”

“Why?”

Beakbreaker’s confused. “To make you better.”

“Don’t,” I whisper. “Please, don’t...”

“Silverspeak––”

I feel the tears coming. “I don’t want to get better.”

Hooves grab my face and force me to look at Beakbreaker. “Silverspeak, listen to me. There’s nothing you could have done for your parents. Their injuries were too severe.”

“I could have,” I whisper. “I could have saved them...”

Beakbreaker shakes her head. “The doctors said that no one could save them. Not even the most skilled healers could. There was nothing you could have done. Mangus was the one who killed your parents, not you.”

My lips quiver. Beakbreaker’s lying. She knows I could have saved them and she’s just trying to make me feel better.

“Silverspeak, listen to me––”

It was a waste. All that effort, all that pain, all the struggles to save my parents and it was all for nothing! I’m sobbing, sobs that quickly turn into screams. I’m thrashing; I can’t stop. Guilt’s grabbing my very soul and taking over, and I can’t stop scr––

***

Wha... what happened? It’s dark. Am I dead? No... no, I’m not. I’m tired, and I’m breathing. My heart beats within me, working to keep me among the living. I’m lying in a bed, my head lying upon a soft pillow. A sliver of light streams through some nearby curtains; it hurts to look at it, but my eyes adjust, and I can faintly make out a closet, a cabinet, and a few paintings upon the walls. This is a bedroom, and a familiar one, but I can’t figure out why...

A door creaks as it’s gently pushed open. “Silverspeak?”

I turn towards the voice. “Beakbreaker?”

Beakbreaker comes in, relieved to see me. “You’re awake. Good.”

I blink, trying to adjust to the light from the room beyond the door. “What happened? I... I was––”

“Having a panic attack,” Beakbreaker says, not enjoying the memory. “I had to inject you with a sedative before you hurt yourself.”

Wait. Yes, I remember. The crushing guilt, feeling as if it were choking the life from me... but why don’t I feel it now? Or anything for that matter?

Beakbreaker sits on the bed. “You’re probably wondering why you feel different. I gave you the strongest anti-depressant I could get, but one of the side effects is that it acts as an emotional tranquilizer by shutting down the parts of the brain responsible for emotions.”

Oh. Well, I suppose that explains what’s happening. “How long was I out?”

“A week.”

“A week?”

“After you were sedated, the technicians and doctors figured it was best to keep you under while your new body was calibrated.”

Beakbreaker indicates for me to follow her hoof. I do, and see a new body of steel lying on the bed. It’s cruder than the one Glasseye gave me: it’s bigger, bulkier, and less refined, most likely a prototype or something built in a hurry without regard for aesthetics. If I had any skin, it would look like I had been injecting myself with steroids.

“I’m afraid it’s the best they could do with the resources they have. Once we craft something better, you’ll get upgraded.”

“We?”

Beakbreaker nods. “Medicomp. The company’s bought all of TechInc’s assets.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, TechInc... it doesn’t exist anymore. When the public learned what their brain chips did in Canterlot, the outcry was... well, you can guess. It wasn’t long before the company’s leadership caved, sold all their assets to Medicomp, and shut down.”

TechInc’s out of business? Strange that such a large company could go under so quickly. “Beakbreaker, how long has it been since Canterlot?”

“About a week and a half. You were slightly out of it for the first few days because of shock.”

“And the war?”

Beakbreaker beams. “It’s over. We won.”

“We did?”

“Queen Chrysalis was captured, and so were all her changelings.” Beakbreaker’s delighted to give me some good news. “Without a queen to guide them, the changelings gave up. The military’s gone through their tunnel network under Equestria and rescued everyone they could find that was still alive. And even better, there’s no sign of any more of those dragons.”

“What about Celestia and the Bearers?”

“They were found in a hive burrowed under Canterlot. They were drained of magic and most of their life force, but the doctors say they’ll be okay.”

Well, that’s encouraging news. “What about everyone who fought in the battle? How many did we lose?”

Beakbreaker groans as she rubs her face. “Silverspeak, I’ve seen what happens when you have a breakdown, and I don’t want you to go through that again.”

“You don’t want me to know how many died.”

Silence.

“Beakbreaker?”

“We lost many,” Beakbreaker admits.

“How many?”

“I’ll tell you once your treatment is over, and you can handle it. Now, that anti-depressant I gave you is powerful, but short-acting, so I’ll have to move you to something a little less potent.”

“You can always give me another dose.”

I might as well have asked for her to pour rat poison down my throat, judging by her reaction. “Silverspeak, this stuff is only meant to be used in life-threatening situations. It’s so strong that repeated doses can kill the recipient.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I don’t want to kill you, so you’ll instead be taking something lighter to help you with the therapy. That should help you adjust to what’s happened.”

“My parents.”

She nods.

This is so strange. I know I should feel sad about my mother and father, but I feel... nothing. Love, joy, happiness, sorrow, fear, and horror... they’re all gone. I can’t summon them up even if I try.

Beakbreaker goes to the window and pulls the curtains aside. Late afternoon light streams into the bedroom. Wait, I have been here before. It’s the guest bedroom in Beakbreaker’s Medicomp apartment.

“Manehattan. So that’s where we are,” I say.

“Yes. I brought you here so you could be admitted to the medical wing, but Coin Counter said we can’t.”

“Because of what I am?” It’s logical that my old boss would be uncomfortable with his most famous (perhaps infamous is a better description) former employee staying in the tower, and as a cyborg no less. I don’t blame him.

“No. However, he was able to make a few calls, and there’s a small facility not too far from here who’s willing to take you. It’s staffed with doctors skilled in treating mental health, but they only take five to six patients at a time so they can get more individualized treatment.”

“Will you be there?”

A shake of the head. “I wish I could be, Silverspeak, but Medicomp needs me here. We have a lot of new patients coming in who need new limbs.”

“Oh... how many?’

Again, Beakbreaker hesitates, and for much longer this time.

“Beakbreaker?”

“Many,” she says at last. “But like I said, we need to focus on you. Coin Counter’s already made all the arrangements, and you’ll be heading to the facility in the morning.” Beakbreaker goes to a closet and pulls out some clothes. “You’ll have to wear these while we’re heading over; can’t have you be seen as a robot.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“There were reports of a robot pony who fought in Canterlot,” Beakbreaker says as she takes out a long coat, “and it was seen carrying two dying ponies. But it hasn’t shown up since, and now ponies are fearing that one of TechInc’s experiments has gone rogue.”

“Oh.”

“Princess Luna is expected to comment on the rumor in a few days. Hopefully, having her make the announcement about what’s really going on will avoid another Guardian fiasco.”

I say nothing.

***

When my new outfit is assembled, Beakbreaker treats me to a pleasant, homemade dinner; I appreciate her effort to make me feel better, but there’s an emptiness where there should be enjoyment. And when Beakbreaker gives me a hug before going to bed, I don’t feel any pleasure at her touch, nor hope when she assures me that things will get better.

Night falls, and I lie in my bed in the guest bedroom, unable to sleep, but I imagine being in a coma for as long as I was has something to do with that. Thus, with the entire night ahead of me, I have plenty of time to think about my situation. Unlike previous nighttime ponderings, I’m free to work with calm, detached logic, and it soon becomes clear that things aren’t as hopeful as Beakbreaker would like to believe.

While she is no doubt involved in efforts to rebuild Equestria after the end of a war, Princess Luna will inevitably learn of my new status as an alicorn, or perhaps already knows if Beakbreaker and my doctors informed her. Considering what she told me about trying to become an alicorn back in Manehattan, she’s unlikely to be pleased with my transformation. And regardless of what her message to the world is when she reveals my existence, it will be another repeat of the Guardian fiasco; of that, I have no doubt. If the public turned against TechInc over a brain chip, how would they react to a half-pony, half robot being walking among them?

But more worrisome is Chrysalis. Luna has no doubt interrogated the queen and learned about how I aided her, and that it was my actions that led to the deaths of those who fell in Canterlot, however many that may be. While I may have been blackmailed, my actions still led to the battle, and the deaths of many. Word of my deed will eventually leak out and spread across Equestria, and, coupled with the fear of a cyborg, every pony who lost a loved one will be screaming for my head on a pike.

I don’t feel any fear or horror at realizing that. But I know I won’t have this calm when the medicine wears off.

I have two choices: I can flee Equestria, or I can do what Beakbreaker wants and get treatment. It’s possible that I may be healed in mind and spirit, but to what end? Luna will be faced with the outcry from an enraged public, and the pressure to punish me, even though my crimes were not as great Chrysalis’, will certainly be overwhelming. She would probably have to strip me of my horn and my wings, and perhaps replace my body with something crude and primitive that would make me less of a threat, like peg legs sailors got in centuries past. There would almost certainly be jail time to be endured, and for far longer than the Manehattan incident. And when all was said and done, I would be a shadow of what I am now, mocked and scorned throughout all of Equestria.

But that will not happen. I won’t allow the public, blind with fury and forgetting logic, to condemn me to a fate that is unfair and excessive, and could cripple me for life. I must leave Equestria and give it time for passions and fury to fade, and to let logic and cooler heads prevail.

Getting out of bed, I dress myself in the clothes Beakbreaker laid out, and then strap on my saddlebags, open the windows, and fly out, closing them behind me with my magic. I almost take off, but hesitate. By committing myself to this path, it may be months, or even years before I return.

This could be the last time I see Beakbreaker for a very long while.

Like a shadow in the night I fly to Beakbreaker’s window and magically pull them open just a little. Peering through, I see her. Beakbreaker lies asleep in her bed, her face calm and relaxed, the perfect image of peace and contentment.

I spend several minutes committing Beakbreaker’s peaceful face to memory. I will likely need it in the months to come. I don’t want to leave her, but this is the best course of action I can take. Still, it will be hard on her, and it would be cruel to depart without informing her of my plan. She deserves that much, at least. Using my magic, I pull out a piece of paper and scribble a quick letter telling her my intentions and that she is not to worry, for this really is for the best.

Putting my things away, I gently slide Beakbreaker’s window open and slip the finished note through the crack before closing it.

I take one last look at my only friend before pulling the curtains closed.

Please, forgive me.

Then, with a flap of my wings, I turn and fly off into the night.

***

My plan for avoiding the upcoming outrage is quite simple: After gathering supplies, I will fly to a remote and uninhabited region of Equestria where I can remain undetected while occasionally making trips into remote villages to sneak a glance at papers to keep myself informed about the public’s mood. When things appear to have calmed down enough, I will fly to Canterlot, meet Princess Luna, and work out whatever issues remain.

Hmmm... now that I think about it, perhaps I should forgo fleeing and instead go see the princess as soon as possible. She is more likely to be open to logic and reason, and can come up with a solution to the coming outcry... but she has her own sister to worry about, the Bearers, and running the country by herself. Being under such pressure would fray her patience, and If I were to say something wrong or make her angry, she would make a snap judgment and the result would be dire. No, I can’t risk that. I’ll proceed with my plan as usual and instead trust that she, too, will see logic as time goes on.

Now my only problem is to figure out where to go. The more remote the better; perhaps the permafrost forests north of the Yaket Range. Few ponies ever go there, yet it’s still close enough to infiltrate any number of communities around the mountains. Yes, that sounds right. I will do that.

Though Manehattan has a reputation as a city that never sleeps, most of its shops are still closed at this late hour. I don’t have any bits either, so I will have to wait until the bank opens. Flying east, I eventually land atop one of the skyscrapers near the bank, and it’s here that I will wait. With no bits I have no means of renting a hotel. It’s not worth getting a room to pass a few hours, and to do so would leave a paper trial that Beakbreaker could follow. When she wakes, Beakbreaker’s likely to overreact at seeing my note and do everything she can to find me, fearing that I’ll be going through another emotional breakdown. The less traces I leave of my presence, the less likely she is to find me.

However, there is one way to make it even easier: get the bits and then fly to some other city to get my supplies. That would be easy, but my appearance is quite distinguished: if she went to another town where I bought supplies, locals would easily remember me and which direction I flew off in, giving Beakbreaker the chance to eventually find me. That wouldn’t be enjoyable to find her in my place of exile, not to mention how awkward it would be trying to explain what was going on. She would never agree to it, which would lead to arguments, hurt feelings, and possible attempts at having me sanctioned.

My heart pounds. I don’t like even thinking about such an idea. I don’t think I could do it. I... oh. I was just nervous and uneasy. It seems the medicine is wearing off. I’ll have to be careful from here on out and keep a tight grip on myself. A momentary slip, a split-second of doubt or fear would make things much more difficult... but I can do it. I can get through this.

I know I can.

***

By the time the sun has risen I know for sure that the drug’s worn off. I can feel the first tinglings of emotions bubbling to the surface again, but for the moment I’m neutral, neither happy or sad. But all it would take is a single stray thought or incident to tip me in the wrong direction. Better to act instead of sitting here and worrying about starting down the path of madness. Just worrying about that could get me worked up... and now I feel the first unwelcome bits of fear in my gut.

Great.

Double-checking that my clothes and coat cover up my mechanical parts, I fly down to the bank as the manager unlocks the doors and swings them open. There are already a few ponies lined up for early morning business; best to let them go first. If I were to be the first one to rush inside, that would cast suspicion on me, especially if Beakbreaker comes here. She’s smart; upon waking up (wish I could remember when she does so) and realizing what I’m doing, she’ll rush to see if I’ve gotten money and then head towards the stores where I could get my supplies. I’m racing against an unseen clock.

I’ll have to wait a minute, maybe two at most before heading in. That will give me time to compose myself. Can’t rush about or appear panicked; my oversized clothing alone is probably going to get some cautious looks, and I can’t give the tellers any more reason to be––

Some vans drive past. Quite a few, in fact, with red crosses on the side. But I don’t hear any sirens, nor see ambulances racing about. These vans aren’t in a hurry, either... but how many of them are there? Six, seven, then eight. Maybe they’re transferring patients to the hospital. Que a few, by the looks of it. Maybe some from Cante––

No. No, no, no, can’t think about that. Beakbreaker didn’t discuss that with me, and I’ll assume it was for a good reason. Especially can’t think that those inside the vans are heading to the hospital because of me––

No! I slap myself. I cannot think like this! Focus, Silverspeak! Focus! Okay, enough waiting. I need to get my bits. That’ll keep me focused.

I head inside the bank, adopting the mindset of someone who’s heading out on a vacation. A charming smile seems to disarm the teller, though she does give the briefest pause at learning who I am. But she proceeds with professional courtesy, and in a few minutes I’m walking out with enough bits to cover my supplies. Any more and the teller might have gotten suspicious.

Taking off, I fly away from the bank. So far, so good. No sign of Beakbreaker, I’ve got my bits, and now it’s time to get some new saddlebags. It’s been a long time since I’ve shopped in Manehattan, so I have to head through the shopping district to browse. I could pick one up at a retail store, but for the extra-big models a specialty shop will have to do. I find it, and in ten minutes I walk out with a set twice as big as my current ones (stored inside one of them for the moment; I can transfer everything later).

I’ve got my new bags. Next comes food, but this is something I’m a bit unsure about. This new body is a machine, and I’m not sure what it uses for fuel. It’s probably powered by crystals, but what about my organic parts? They need nutrients, especially my brain, which means that I must be able to digest and absorb normal food. That means I’ll have to get crystals, food, and water, but then there’s maintenance. Will I need oil and gears? Picking some up to act as an emergency repair kit wouldn’t be a bad idea, but food and crystals comes first.

Confound it, this is going to be trickier than I thought.

I head into a public restroom, lock the door, and after pulling aside my coat and clothes, I take a deep breath and focus, using my magic to gently pull back the plates on my chest. The large mirror above the sink lets me see into a maze of tubes, wires, and gears. But deep within, I can see something glowing. Being careful not to pull anything from its mount, I push the machinery aside and... bingo! There it is: three golden crystals embedded within thick vials connected to other, unseen machinery.

Putting the panels back into place, I head into the shopping district’s high class section; I come across a crystal and diamond emporium in moments, but as I head inside, my worst fears are confirmed: this place caters to the wealthy desperate to improve their social standing by spending absurd amounts of bits on shiny rocks. There are three crystals here identical to the ones in my chest, and they’re outrageously expensive. But since I need them to live, I fork over most of my bits to buy them and bid a quick retreat, trying not to grumble at how the store is ripping off ordinary ponies like me. Still, I should be grateful: with the crystals in hoof, and the bags, I’m halfway done with my preparations. All I need now is food, a tent, a sleeping bag, and I’ll be ready to leave.

Putting the crystals inside my smaller bags (best to have as much space as possible for food), I search for the closest grocery store. A few police cruisers drive past, but none stop as they pass me by. Still, I head deeper into the crowds to avoid them. Can’t be too careful, especially if Beakbreaker asks the police to go and look for me.

I find what I’m looking for after half an hour of searching: Manehattan’s biggest grocery store, an enormous, three-story warehouse filled with every type of food imaginable. As to be expected, it’s packed with customers buying food for a busy weekend, and I join their ranks after dropping off my bags at the front and taking a shopping cart.

An unprepared shopper would get hopelessly lost among the crowds surging amongst the isles, but not me. My organic parts will need nutrient dense food, so I walk past the candy and junk food isles, and instead make my way through the islands and displays to grab the healthiest foods that have been packed for long-term storage. Meals ready to eat, dehydrated fruit and vegetables, complex carbohydrates, and quite a few nutrition bars.

It takes me about an hour to get all the food that should keep me going for at least three months, possibly double if I ration it. I could have just grabbed a bunch of things and call it a day, but I can’t rush this. A single mistake could prove disastrous down the road: nutrition deficiency could lead to impaired mental functioning, which could lead to bad mistakes, which could lead to death. Always do your research, my parents used to say, and you’ll avoid being––

I stop. Only when other customers give me odd looks do I put down a box of fiber bars I had been inspecting.

Keep it together, Silverspeak. Keep it together.

I manage to make it to the drinks isle without breaking down. I just need to stay focused on my goal. Do that, and everything will be okay. After grabbing a few jugs of water and a reusable filter, I’m sure I’ve gotten everything I need. There’s still the problem of what to do when my food and water inevitably runs out, but I can graze on whatever fruits and vegetation I find. It may not be the most convenient or easy way to live, but I can do it.

I head downstairs. Hopefully there won’t be a mob trying to get through before... drat, there is. Even with every lane open there are long lines stretching towards the back of the store. I head to one of them, and spend most of the next fifteen minutes tapping my hooves while slowly moving forward.

The doors slide open and two more customers head inside, blissfully unaware of the long lines they’ll have to... oh. They aren’t customers. They’re police officers.

They’re not smiling as they head deeper into the store.

Relax, Silverspeak. These officers aren’t here for me. They’re just here for... well, maybe to check on something. Yes, that’s it. Maybe wanting to make a public service announcement reminding everyone not to drink and drive a carriage.

I reach the checkout and try not to break my foodstuffs as I unload them from the cart. The tired cashier does her work, and I stuff the food into my bags. Once this is finished, I’ll just need the camping supplies, and I’ll be free to leave Manehattan.

The police officers return, heading to the doors with an employee following them. I pay them little heed as I keep stuffing my bags.

“Silverspeak?”

I turn to see a pony pushing a broom along the isle. I have a vague memory of seeing his face before, but for the life of me I can’t––

“Silverspeak, it’s me, remember?! From Green Groceries!”

Wait... I remember now. He was my coworker from my first job. He’s the one who came and woke me up after my botched attempt to get into the library. All these years later and he still recognizes me... in the one place I really don’t want to be recognized in.

“Man, I read all about you!” the pony says. “Is it true that you wanted to usurp the princesses and take over Equestria?”

The cashier’s giving me funny looks. So are the other customers.

“No,” I say. “And you should stop reading tabloids.”

The cashier’s eyes dart to something behind me. So do the eyes of the other customers. Even my former coworker looks back, and he’s worried at what he sees.

I don’t want to look, but I do anyway. The police are still in the store.

They’re looking right at me.

Okay, don’t panic. They’re probably just surprised and cautious about me being here, that’s all. Maybe they were involved in the Manehattan incident and lost some of their friends. Now that they’re face to face with me, they don’t know how to act, and that’s why everyone here is silent, because they know these officers.

I turn back to the cashier. My total is on the cash register, and I take out a hoofful of bits to count out.

All talk stops as two sets of hooves come up behind me.

“Mr. Silverspeak? My name is officer Street Beat, and this is officer Sharp Sight. We’d like you to come with us.”

A very familiar fear rushes through me: It’s visited me twice, when I was convinced I was going to be fired and go to jail before my father threatened to turn me in, and when I was hiding from the princesses in a Manehattan warehouse knowing that the Bearers had been dispatched to find me. It was knowing that something terrible was coming and there was nothing I could do to stop it, or even delay it. And now that fear has me gripped in its clutches again, refusing to let go.

A few coins fall to the counter as I force myself to turn around. The officers are still, both giving the fake smile of someone trying to convince the unhinged that they have nothing to fear.

“Where are we going?” I ask, using all my self control not to bolt.

“To the police station,” Street Beat says. “There are some ponies who want to talk to you.”

Sharp Sight shifts, his back legs bracing themselves against the floor. An attack posture; Street Beat is doing it too, both trying to be as discreet as possible.

I can’t run, because they would attack me. If I attack, I could easily take their heads off with a single kick; I don’t want to hurt them, but I can’t go with them. There’s only one thing I can do.

“Alright,” I say. “I’ll go.”

Street Beat smiles. So does his partner.

As I hope, they lower their guard ever-so slightly.

The checkout lanes are very quiet as I put my saddlebags on and head to the doors, both officers staying very close. I ignore the stares of hundreds of customers, and my old coworker as I’m escorted out the front doors and into the parking lot. There’s a police cruiser there, and Sharp Sight opens the back door with his magic, revealing bars embedded in the windows.

“This way, Mr. Silverspeak.”

I can’t wait; if I’m going to act, it has to be now!

“Oh, excuse me,” I say, my fear focusing my charm to maximum strength in a second, “I was buying groceries for a friend. She’s at work and has several hungry fillies at home, and I’d like to go drop the food off before they get hungry, if you don’t mind. You don’t have to wait for me, because I’ll meet you two at the police station after I’m done.”

Street Beat seems puzzled by the idea. He blinks, as if trying to trying to make sense of a puzzling enigma.

Come on...

“Well... I don’t see why not,” Street Beat says with a shrug. “Can’t let young ones go hungry, I suppose.” He gets into the carriage. “Make it quick, though. The Chief was very insistent that we find you.”

“That’s right,” Sharp Sight says as he closes the back door. “Said we need to get those posters up, too.”

“Well, you succeeded!” I say with my biggest, brightest, fakest smile. “And you did a very good job of it! Now, off you go. I’ll see you at the station.” With a wave I turn and head into an alley beside the store, my heart pounding. I glance back. Are the officers following me?

They aren’t.

Good––

A whistle blows, and I hear two sets of hooves running for the alley. “Hey! Stop!”

Buck!

I bolt, my hooves hitting the ground as I run for my life and my freedom. My wings unfurl and I throw myself into the sky. Stupid, stupid, stupid! I should have known that police officers have a stronger will than most ponies, one I can only influence for a few seconds. Doesn’t matter; neither are pegasi, but I have to get out of here before they call in reinforcements. But where do I go?! I’ve only got a few seconds, maybe a minute to get into hiding... wait, I remember! The western shore has a lot of industrial buildings; there has to be a warehouse I can hide in!

I race through the sky, darting past skyscrapers as fast as my wings can beat, ignoring the shouts of pegasi ponies yelling at me as I shoot past them. I don’t have time to yell out an apology; I’ve got to hide and figure out my next––

Something hits me. I spin out of control. Oh Celestia, I’m going to crash! I yank back as hard as I can, wings struggling, but it’s not enough. I slam into a rooftop, rolling as my gears squeal and groan until I finally skid to a stop.

Am I... no, no I’m not injured. A little dented maybe, but... wait! Oh no, I hit someone! Oh Celestia, please don’t let them be hurt! I run to the edge and... oh, thank goodness! I did hit someone else, but they’re flying away, shaken, but none the worse for wear. Oh, that was too close... I could have killed them. I need to be more careful, as I don’t... wait. Wait, where are my bags?! My old ones are still on my back, but my new ones are gone! Oh buck, no! I must have not stopped them down tight enough when I left the supermarket!

I look over the roof’s edge, and I swear I can feel my heart tightening into a knot. Ponies far below swarm around a pair of saddlebags and the unmistakable multicolored mess of splattered and broken food mingled with bits lying across the sidewalk.

Buck! Buck, buck, buck!

Sirens echo through the air.

I can’t go after the bags. I can only take off into the sky and fly once again, this time staying clear of the pegasi flying around me. It isn’t long before I reach Manehattan’s western shores and the many docks and warehouses. I remember these; I came here after I first became an alicorn, but the warehouse I hid in is no longer standing, along with many other buildings that have been demolished or closed up. Hiding in one of those would be too obvious, so I instead dart towards a run-down hotel nestled next to a few abandoned skyscrapers. Luck is smiling on me: the windows are boarded up, and a notice on the door reveals that it’s been foreclosed.

Kicking a board off a window, I rush inside, put it back in place, and hunker down, listening. I can hear sirens in the distance, but they’re not heading this way. They go quiet after a few minutes, but it’s probably a trick; the police don’t want me to know they’re coming, so I squint out the window, watching the only road leading leading to the hotel. But there are no cruisers and no officers rushing up. In fact, there’s no one around. Everything’s quiet.

I slump against the wall, trying not to scream the strongest curses I know.

***

I take refuge inside the hotel for the rest of the day, not daring to step outside and risk showing myself. Word will probably spread fast throughout the city that Silverspeak, infamous pony of the Manehattan incident, is once again up to something, and once again everyone will be on the lookout for me. History is repeating itself once again... but I won’t end up going back to prison again.

I’ll die before I get that far.

A cruiser drives down the road, it’s siren quiet as the officers drive past the hotel.

Okay, Silverspeak, focus. This isn’t the end of the world. There’s no reason to panic. It’s not like every police officer in the country is going to be looking for you and thinking you’re the biggest threat they’ll ever face in their lives––

No! No, no, no! Can’t think like that! I have to focus... now, what can I do? The police are going to be on alert: running away from officers was probably a big mistake, but it’s not as if I’ve murdered anyone. Beakbreaker’s probably heard about what happened, or was the one who asked the two officers to go look for me. She’ll probably try to speed up the search or try something more comprehensive, and if that’s the case I need to leave sooner than I planned. But I still need supplies: all I have are my regular saddlebags, the crystals, and the clothes I’m wearing. The ponies at the bank have probably been alerted to look out for me, so heading there to get more bits is out of the question. How am I supposed to get food? Anything I gather in the wild will only last a few days at most; I need food that can last for weeks or months.

There has to be a way to get what I need... perhaps the local places of worship can help me. They have a known record of helping the needy with no questions asked... but they’ve never had to deal with a cyborg, and one who’s desperate to flee. They might try to stall or sweet talk me until the police arrive, or use their magic to immobilize me; I could possibly fight back, but I still have the same problem I did with Mangus: I can use magic, but nowhere near the level of experienced unicorns.

Two more cruisers drive down the street.

Think, Silverspeak, think... I can’t rely on others to help me... perhaps I’ll have to make them do so. It’s not ideal, but charming a pony to get me supplies is the quickest, most efficient way of getting what I need. Yes, yes, I’ll do that. I just need to wait until night falls, and then head out to find a pony who’s had a few too many things to drink.

I can still pull this off, and with any luck I’ll be flying far away from here by this time tomorrow.

When night falls, I remain inside the hotel, listening to the distant gongs of the bell tower to mark the time. Only when the bells chime at midnight do I sneak outside, darting into the shadows to avoid prying eyes. But it’s difficult to keep my own eyes open. I’ve been awake for a day and a half and while my body can keep going, my brain wants some rest. But I’ve got to get this over with. Get the food, rest until dawn, and then I can leave. I could try getting camping supplies, but I won’t push my luck, and I can always use magic to make a shelter and a bed out of leaves and trees.

Spreading my wings, I fly up until I’m camouflaged against the night sky. Even at this late hour there are plenty of ponies going to all-night bars and clubs, perhaps still celebrating the end of the war. I have plenty of places to chose from, but where to start? Someone who’s drunk is the obvious choice, but now that I think about it, an intoxicated pony is unlikely to follow my instructions. Perhaps someone who’s tired is a better choice. Now, the police have shift changes all through the night, and so do hospitals... so if I go to one and wait, I’m bound to find someone leaving after a long shift. It’s tough to locate, but I finally find it nestled halfway between the industrial and shopping districts. It’s not a large building, but it is painted a dark shade of blue compared to the hospital’s white. Tall fences and numerous bushes, trees, and general greenery create a barrier to keep it isolated from the outside world.

Landing a few buildings away, I creep out of an alley and peer onto the streets. No one’s in sight. I dart down the sidewalks to the hospital, and then down the sides, looking for a staff entrance. Ah, here it is. Even better, there are a few large bushes nearby.

Heading behind the bushes, I flatten myself against the ground to keep a low profile. All I have to do now is wait until someone leaves and trail them until they’re alone... Wait, that’s the mindset of a mugger. But I’m not here to steal, just to get food. I don’t want to hurt anyone.

There’s a beeping noise at the gate, and it opens moments later as a pony in a doctor’s coat walks out, his eyes bloodshot as he tries to stay on his hooves.

Yes... yes, this one will do nicely.

“Hey.”

Another doctor jogs up, this one much younger. Looks like I’ll have to wait until they finish talking before I make my move.

The first doctor yawns. “Hello, Night Knocker.”

“What’s it look like in there tonight?”

The departing pony rubs his face. “We got twenty five more in this morning.”

“You’re kidding.”

A shake of the head. “I wish I was. Poor things are shell-shocked. We’ve had to sedate one of them after he tried breaking out. Nearly killed three of the nurses and four orderlies. Thinks we’re all changelings and he’s still stuck in the tunnels.”

The newcomer shakes his head. “Dang. Well, could be worse.”

“How could it possibly get any worse?”

A poster is pulled out. “You could have this pony under your care.”

Who’s that on the poster? I try to get a closer look, but I can’t see it––

“My word... you mean the rumors of a cybernetic pony are true?”

“Yep. And unlucky for us, he’s lost his mind.”

The poster is lowered, the street lights revealing a horribly familiar face upon a wanted poster.

It’s mine.

“When did these come out?”

“Today. The cops have been rushing to put these things up all over the place. Want to make sure everyone knows not to go near him.”

“Well, what do they want to do? Kill him?”

Another shrug. “I don’t know. Rumor is, these posters come from up high. Like, really high. Princess level high.”

“You mean Luna?”

Night Knocker nods. “It’s all rumors, mind you, but she apparently wants him brought in ASAP.”

“First the Manehattan incident, and now this... he should have been brought here long ago. If they capture him alive, I daresay he’ll be brought here, along with all the others we’ll be getting.”

“Wait, we’re getting more?”

“Be grateful you’re not in the normal hospitals. Got a call from a colleague, says that the one here is jammed to double capacity, and so are all the major hospitals.”

“Could be even worse.”

“How?”

“Could be in the morgue business. Canterlot just released the final death toll from the battle earlier today. Sixty thousand dead.”

“By Celestia... are you sure?”

Night Knocker gives a reluctant nod.

The departing pony can’t speak.

“Hey, doc, go home. Get some rest. I’ll take it from here.”

A scream of soul-crushing despair escapes from inside the hospital.

Neither pony speaks as one heads inside and the other leaves. Neither know that the pony on the poster is only a few feet away, shaking behind a bush.

Sixty thousand dead? That... that can’t be true! There’s no way we could have lost that many! It’s... it’s just not possible! Night Knocker had to be mistaken. Yes, that’s it. He just misheard the official numbers, and those rumors about Princess Luna are wrong. There’s no way she would be so interested in a single pony when there’s so much reconstruction work to be completed. I’m nothing to her.

My legs shake. No, no, I can’t let myself lose my nerve now. I... I have to act. Have to––

Sixty thousand...

NO! No, don’t think about that! I have to focus! Forget the food! Forget supplies, forget everything, I just need to get out of this city now. If those posters are going up, I can’t risk being seen by anyone!

I manage to stand, ignoring the horrid cold going through me. A beat of the wings and I’m off. I have to head north as quickly as I can and pray that nobody spots me. And as I fly high into the night sky, it looks clear. Most pegasi would be back home this late at night and in this weather. Only police or guards on the lookout for someone would be out, but I don’t see anyone. Good. I’ll take advantage of... wait, what’s that?!

I spin hard, just narrowly avoiding a head-on collision with a shimmering field in front of me. But what is it? It... it looks like a magical barrier of some kind, like the one that Mangus erected years ago and the one around Canterlot. But this one is almost impossible to see; it was pure luck I didn’t hit it. Whoever erected it must have taken a cue from a spider’s web.

My wings beat as I carefully edge my way closer. The barrier doesn’t look impenetrable. Rummaging through my bags, I find a small jar of ink and toss it into the barrier.

It goes through with a brief flash of light.

A city-encircling dome that can’t stop anything... but maybe it’s not meant to stop ponies from going through; maybe it’s meant to detect someone.

I have a really bad feeling about this barrier. Every instinct says it’s for me... but I have to go through. Every minute I’m in here is one less minute spent flying to safety.

Floating closer, I reach out with my hoof. If it goes through without triggering anything, I’ll race out and go as fast as I can.

Here goes nothing.

My hoof touches the barrier and slips through. It’s like it isn’t even there. Good. I keep going until my shoulder enters, and then the base of my neck. Still nothing. Okay, now my head. No feeling there, either. Alright, now I’ll––

A flash of red light. Oh buck, what’s... wait! I’m stuck! I can’t move! The barrier’s turned red around me! It’s holding me in place and... screeching?! It’s making a ruckus, probably to summon the police! No! No, no, no!

I struggle. My limbs can move, but my body’s pinned as if it were caught in glue! I’ll have to cut my way out; focusing, I fire a beam of magic into the barrier and try to cut, but the barrier remains solid. Buck! Okay, okay, don’t panic, Silverspeak! Try again! Closing my eyes, I focus and fire again... and the barrier still doesn’t break.

No!

Wait! Wait, there was a trick I used back when fighting Mangus, what was it?! Wait, I remember! My shots got more powerful the angrier I was! Think... think about how unfair it is that I’m going back to prison and never get out, and how everyone’s going to mock and insult me and never forgive me for what I’ve done!

I scream and fire again... and the barrier breaks! Yes! I spin my head, slicing away until I’m free-falling. I beat my wings to head back up, but the barrier’s already sealed up. Blast! I’ll have to try somewhere else!

Spinning, I race along the barrier, trying to get as far away from here as possible. No one follows me, or even seems to notice me as I reach the city’s towers and fly towards the abandoned hotel. There it is! I... wait! Oh no, there are police cruisers surrounding it!

My wings hammer the air as I skid to a stop and dart behind a warehouse. I peer out, panting as I try to count... ten. There are ten cruisers around the hotel, and I duck back before I can count how many officers are there. Confound it all! Okay, okay, don’t panic... think, think, think! Find somewhere else to hide! Somewhere out of the obvious that no one would think to inspect... the docks! There’s bound to be a husk or abandoned restaurant there!

Slipping away, I fly to the docks, and as I hoped there’s no activity at this hour. There are no abandoned ships that I can see, but there’s a restaurant that’s closed. But... no, that won’t work. If the police are looking for me, they’ll search every abandoned or empty building they can. But there’s one place they won’t look... a place they don’t know exists.

Flying along the shore, I finally find a remote piece of rock that I carve a small cave into. My head is pounding and my vision is red by the time I’m done, but I have a small hole I can hide in. It’s a tight fit as I squeeze inside and use the last of my magic to float a few rocks across the hole, making it almost impossible for anyone to spot me.

There. I’m safe. I lay my head down, trying to breathe through the pain. But how did the police know where to go? Someone must have seen me leaving the hotel earlier, and they were waiting for me to come back while another team was following me. They’re probably out searching for me now that they know I’m still on the island... an island surrounded by a dome that will detect me the moment I try to get out. The police have gone through all that trouble to put up a dome just to get me.

I’m shaking.

The police wouldn’t erect a dome to stop a commoner. They wouldn’t even put it up to stop an everyday criminal. They would only put it up to stop someone who was a threat to all of Equestria... or someone who’s actions had led to the deaths of over sixty thousand ponies.

I can’t stop shaking.

***

There’s no sunrise when dawn finally comes. There isn’t even a sky; there’s only a thick sea of clouds that stretches to the horizon. I can barely see it inside my cave. I haven’t left or gotten off the floor. I can hear vehicles driving outside, lots of them, and I’ve lost track of how many sirens I’ve heard. The police are searching for me. They know I’m somewhere in the city, and they won’t stop until I’ve been caught, and in a way I can’t blame them.

If I were an officer hunting for the worst mass murderer in history, I’d send out everyone I had, too.

I haven’t slept. I’ve lain here, trying to deny the truth that refuses to leave me. If sixty thousand ponies died at Canterlot, their blood is on my hooves. Chrysalis may have led the attack, and she was the one who unleashed the arch-dragon, but none of that would have happened if I hadn’t been involved. It was my weakness, my momentary lapse in strength that allowed Chrysalis to get the Crystal and turn it against us all. My parents would still be alive, that the battle at Canterlot would never have happened, or Genesis would never have been destroyed if I had been stronger, faster, resisted Chrysalis, or just done more. And if I had, I would have been with my parents and Beakbreaker. We would have been happy... but we’re not, and we never will be again because of me.

There is no coming back from this. No deeds I do, no acts of penance or tasks of repentance will ever wash this away.

I look out through the cracks between the rocks. I can see the ocean beyond my cave, clear, open, and inviting. If I can get past the barrier, I’ll be free. When word gets out about how I helped Chrysalis, every parent, daughter, child, and spouse who lost a loved one will be screaming for my head on a pike, or to toss me into Tartarus and weld my cell shut. And Luna will oblige them. She knows what I did. Either she found out the truth after interrogating Chrysalis, or Beakbreaker told her, or she learned the truth some other way, but she’ll know of my crime, and with the death of so many of her subjects, she will seek vengeance against me, the one she trusted to help bring the war to an end. But now I am fallen, the traitor who killed so many.

Waves billow upon the water, the wind blowing them out to the endless sea. It’s as if they’re inviting me to come and join them.

Luna will have those posters spread all throughout Equestria. Every city and town will be on the lookout for me. Even if I escape Manehattan and flee, Luna will always look for me. No matter where I go, or where I hide, she will always be searching. Even in my sleep I won’t be safe, for she could find me in my dreams. And if she can’t find out where I’m hiding, perhaps she could trap me in a dream world forever, unable to escape, forcing me to feel the guilt and misery of what I’ve done without end.

I curl up on the floor, trying to stifle my sobs.

I can’t run away. I can’t turn myself in. I can’t even sleep.

I don’t know what to do.

***

The days pass. and I remain in my hole. I finally fall into an exhausted sleep one morning and awake as the sky darkens, but I find no rest or peace. Instead, I cry. I can’t stop; I feel so powerless, so helpless, so alone. It’s so bad that at times I want to die.

With everything I now face, it would be a relief.

Eventually, the tears finally stop. The fear and the terror fade, replaced by a numbness. I must have cried them all away. In a way, it’s a blessing. I can think again. I need to come up with a plan, something I can focus on, something I can do to make everything better. I can’t just go somewhere and hide until the public calms down. That won’t work. I’ll have to leave Equestria permanently, flying north into the unknown region beyond the seas.

But even knowing what I must do, nothing comes to me. All the ideas I get won’t work. If I try to flee I’ll be spotted and caught; that barrier almost certainly passes through steel, which means it would detect me if I tried to hide inside a cargo container on an outgoing ship. If I somehow managed to get through, I’d be spotted flying past another town or city. If I could avoid that, I would arrive at the coast only to find it devoid of food. My body would break down. My crystals would give out. A million different things can and will go wrong. Every plan I make will fail, as everything I’ve ever tried has failed. And even if, by some remote chance I succeed and find an uncharted land where I live out my days, I will spend those days in fear, always looking over my shoulder for a squad of Luna’s soldiers coming after me.

But worst of all is Beakbreaker. She can’t come with me, and I can’t go to her to ask.

If I leave, I will never see her again.

***

The police have to give up. They can’t keep patrolling for me forever. But I can’t go up to the streets to find out if the posters are still up. My will to win is strong, but so is theirs.

It’s time to find out who’s will is stronger.

Waiting until night falls, and the last rays of light are just about to fade from the sky, I take a chunk of rock and levitate it. From here it’ll be easy to hurl it across the bay and see if the barrier is still up. If it isn’t, I’ll make a run for it. To where, I don’t know, but I suppose I should try.

I ready the rock. One toss, and I can be free. But if it isn’t... No. No, it will be down. I’ve held out this long. It has to be gone.

It will be.

I hurl the rock as hard as my magic will allow. I don’t know how far the dome extends around Manehattan, but if it’s still here, I should see a flash of light.

I wait.

Nothing happens.

I smile. It’s the first time I’ve done so since––

There’s a flash of light ahead of me, brief, but unmistakeable.

The barrier’s still there. The police haven’t given up.

I slump to the floor.

I’m trapped.

***

It starts to rain, but I don’t see it. I sleep during the day to keep Luna from entering my dreams. When I wake at night, It’s always dark enough to hide the rain. I can faintly see the glow of nearby towers, but I don’t venture from my cave. I only creep out to drink what little water I can get from the sky, but only for a few moments. I can’t risk being seen. The police will have spies everywhere, combing the beaches and the shores. I won’t let them see me. I’ll hide in here and wait. The dome has to go down eventually. They can’t keep it up. I’ll outlast them.

The sun sets and rises. Then again. Three times. Five.

I lose track.

The desire to eat goes away. I don’t need much to drink.

The rain doesn’t stop.

How long has it been since I left Beakbreaker’s tower? A week? Two weeks? Sleeping all day and staying awake at night has made me lose track of time.

I can hear the world going on. Carriages and cruisers drive past my hiding spot. I hear ponies talking about normal things: meals, business, things ordinary ponies do. Things I used to do. Things I can’t do anymore. My only comfort lies in sleep, for it’s there that I can find peace in temporary oblivion. I don’t dream anymore, but I hope I do. For in those dreams I have one hope left to me. I’ve read about ponies and other species encountering deceased loved ones in their dreams. They’re unnaturally vivid and real, and almost always come with reassurance that everything is okay. Overnight, the bereaved can find closure and healing, especially if they’re the lucky few to be told that their lost loved ones are okay.

Every time I close my eyes to sleep, I hope I’ll be one of the lucky ones. If there really is such a thing as a soul, a spark, or a part of us that survives beyond death, then my parents would surely try to communicate with me. They would see how stressed I am and want to give me any comfort they can, no matter how minor it may be. And as I use my magic to send myself into a deep sleep each morning, I hope and pray that I’ll finally see their smiling faces, and the assurance that they forgive me for letting them die.

I don’t.

My parents never come.

***

The rain eventually becomes a downpour, the clouds growing darker by the day. I don’t hear ponies walking about anymore. They’ve retreated inside to be with their loved ones, seeking shelter against the cold and the dark. I wish I could remember what that’s like, but the memory is faded and distant.

Others would laugh and mock me, saying that I deserve to forget, that I deserve to be miserable. But they have no idea what it’s like to be an outcast. No sane pony has ever thought about what it’s like to be one. They don’t know about the guilt, or the fear, or the realization that you will never be happy again.

I have no friends or loved ones I can call for help. No one will come to me and offer a shoulder or a sympathetic ear. No one wants me. And if I were to die, no one would care. I would only receive the briefest mention in the news, and then the world would go on. In less than a decade I would be forgotten, a nameless pony joining the nameless masses throughout history who have accomplished nothing with their lives. And that is what I have done.

Nothing.

My life is a waste.

Everything I’ve ever done has been for nothing.

***

At some point in our lives, we’re all told that we’re stronger than we know. Like the heroes of old, or in our comics and films and books, we’re told that if we stay strong, hang in there, and never quit, we can endure anything.

That’s a lie.

No one can endure suffering forever. Everyone has a breaking point, a moment where they just can’t take anymore.

When they reach that moment, they will do anything to end the pain.

I have finally reached my limit. I can’t go any further. I can’t stomach the thought of spending another day, another hour, or even another minute in this Celestia-forsaken cave. And yet, instead of being swallowed completely by despair, I feel... calm. I can’t win. I can’t wait out the police. I can’t outsmart Luna. If Equestria is united against me, I will eventually be caught. Perhaps everything I’ve gone through was a subconscious attempt to reject the truth, and only now, when I finally accept it, does everything become clear.

I finally know the truth. But with the truth comes clarity, and an answer on what I should do.

A smile comes to my face.

I know how to make things right.

The rocks covering the entrance of my cave are pushed aside. Putting on my saddlebags, I walk out into the storm and up onto the street. It’s mid-afternoon, and there are no vehicles on the roads, and only a few ponies running about. It seems that no one’s heading out today, not in this downpour. That means there’s less chance of being spotted, and if someone does recognize me I’ll just use my charm to send them on their way.

I jog through the streets of Manehattan. It’s so strange... all my anxiety, fear, and worries are gone. Even the hopelessness has been purged, leaving a blank slate.

It’s wonderful.

No one spots me as I make my way through the city, taking care to stick to alleys and out of the way paths. I’m drenched from the rain, but I don’t mind. It’s refreshing to feel the water on my face as I pass familiar sights: the grocery store where I got my first job, my old apartment building, the hospital, and the library. Any damage they incurred from my actions have been repaired, and they’re pristine once more.

In the years to come, may ponies forget they were ever damaged in the first place.

It takes me almost two hours to reach the park. There are a few ponies braving the weather for a walk, but I pay them no heed as I wander down paths and among trees and plants, searching for a particular spot. I’m not sure exactly what it is, but I trust that I know it when I see it.

I finally locate my spot. It’s a small clearing in the park’s most remote corner, hidden within a dense cluster of trees. There’s a bench beside a small lake, and a gazebo nestled among the trees.

The downpour slows as I take off my bags, and then stops as I take a seat on the bench. From here I have an almost perfect view of the trees and the lake; if not for the steel towers beyond the park, this would be a garden from paradise itself. And with no one around, I have it all to myself, as if this place was put here just for me.

I relax.

It’s so peaceful here.

The afternoon passes.

***

As day turns to night, the towers around me begin to light up, one by one, until I’m surrounded by an ocean of gently twinkling lights that shimmer on the surface of the lake.

For the first time in months, I feel... happy. I can sit here and just be. No shame, no guilt, and no worry.

It’s as if all the responsibilities and pressures of the world have finally gone away.

I relish the feeling.

The night goes on.

***

I wish this night could last forever. To just sit here with no worries, no fears, no responsibilities, and no guilt and have it last forevermore... but it can’t. Nothing can.

Nothing lasts forever.

With a soft gong, Manehattan’s clock tower announces the late hour.

I look around. No one’s here but me.

Taking my bags, I head into the gazebo. It’s dark inside, making it impossible for anyone to see me in here. It will no doubt be some time before anyone comes this way. Kneeling on the grass, I put my saddlebags to the side and roll my coat into a pillow as I lie down. From here I have a perfect view of the clearing, the lake, and the glowing towers.

Keeping my gaze on the beautiful vista before me, I focus on my magic and once again peel away the panels on my chest. When they’re unfurled like petals of a flower, I push aside the cables and tubes until I find the thick, heavily-armored box containing my artificial heart. I can feel it beating, the steady pumps giving me life.

One quick, magical crush is all it will take to destroy it. And with one move, Equestria will be free of me, and this will finally be over.

I take one last look at the vista before me. Let the last thing I ever see be something beautiful, free of war, suffering, and failure.

I close my eyes.

I focus my magic around my heart.

I’m not afraid. I’m not scared or frightened. This is for the best. It really is, and if she were in my position––

No. I shake my head. No, I don’t need that thought now. I can’t let myself be distracted. I need to focus.
I tighten the spell... and the question comes back again. I try to shove it aside, but the question keeps repeating itself, refusing to leave me be.

What would Celestia do?

No! Not now! I’ve failed at everything I’ve ever tried; just for once in my life, let me do something good! This is the last thing I can do to make the world a little better. It would satisfy everyone’s calls for my head, it would bring justice to those who died and who would be better off dead, and it would finally bring an end to my misery.

But why do those words feel so hollow?

No! No, I can’t give up! I focus and grip my heart again. Celestia would do this. If she was incompetent, she would want to save everyone around her. She would do anything to protect them from herself!

Wouldn’t she?

I shake.

Come on, Silverspeak, you coward! You’ve got the chance to do something good for once! Don’t throw it away! Ignore the shame, ignore the guilt, and just do it!

But... but what if this is a mistake?

DO IT!

Sweat drips onto the grass.

I don’t want to end it like this, confused and angry. That’s not how I want to spend my last moments. I’ll... I’ll take a moment to gather myself and calm down.

I release my magic and open my eyes. The rain is starting to come down again.

What would Celestia do? I don’t want to contemplate the question. The last time I did, it cost my parents their lives. Now it’s trying to deny me one last moment of happiness. No, I won’t give it my attention.

I try to ignore the thought for a good ten minutes, and then half an hour. But it still refuses to leave. It seems this is one of those thoughts that won’t go away until you face it. Fine. If it will grant me peace and quiet, I’ll do it.

Taking my saddlebags, I dig through and pull out Little Celestia. She’s covered with a thin layer of dust and dirt, but her smile is as radiant as it’s always been, and her enchanted eyes peer up at me.

Just what would Celestia do if she were in my place? I force myself to contemplate the answer. If Celestia had a family and lost them all, it would hurt her deeply, perhaps more than anything she’s endured in her many years. She would try to stop it... but eventually she would reach her own limits and try to end––

No. No, Celestia wouldn’t do that. She’s stronger than me. She... she would be strong. She wouldn’t let grief take over her life like... like I have.

I gulp. I’m not as strong as Celestia, nor will I ever be. But our princess, despite being as susceptible to grief or sadness as any of us, would eventually move on. She would try to live her life to the fullest. She... she would want to live a life her loved ones would be proud of.

My hooves shake. Little Celestia almost falls to the floor.

My parents... they wouldn’t want to see me like this. They... they would want me to be happy, not destroyed by grief. And if they were here, if they were sitting beside me, they would... they would...

I sniff as tears slip down my cheeks.

If my parents were here, they would tell me not to give up. What’s done is done. It cannot be changed. I cannot bring my parents back, or those who died at Canterlot. But what can be changed is where I go from here. I can end my life, if I want. I can try to run away. Or, I can do what Celestia would do: accept what has happened, and do what I can to make my life better.

My throat tightens up. Even though they’re not here, and even knowing that it’s just my brain working, I swear I can almost feel my parents hooves on my shoulders. If they were were... if they could speak to me, they wouldn’t want me to give up.

They would want me to live.

My heart beats within its box, hammering away as if sensing the end is coming and working to delay it as long as it can. It won’t.

I can’t do it... I won’t. If I’m dead, the suffering will end, but so will my chances of making anything better, of showing Equestria that I’m not a bad guy. If I’m dead, I’ll be seen as a coward and a failure. If I’m alive, I can show them I’m not.

If I can’t live for myself, I will live for my parents.

I’ll live a life that will make them proud.

The rain’s coming down harder as I shove myself up and put Little Celestia back into my saddlebags. I’m shaking as I slip the bags on and run from the gazebo, my hooves slamming into the pavement as I flee from the park and onto the streets. For the first time in a long time I remember what determination is: the rush of control, of feeling like you can do anything. But I can’t. This rush won’t last. I can’t beat this on my own; I don’t have the strength to save myself.

But I know someone who can.

I’m soaking wet when I finally reach the Medicomp building. Only a few lights are on as I hit the button to summon a guard. And when a guard does appear, he doesn’t recognize me at first. But when the guard goes over my face and realizes that my chest is open, he almost has a heart attack as he recognizes me.

Activating the intercom, I ask in my most polite voice if I can see Beakbreaker.

In only a few minutes I’m sitting in the lobby, guards surrounding me, unsure what to do or what to make of me, but their weapons remain holstered. They seem to realize that I’m not here to fight.

The elevator opens. Beakbreaker runs out, hastily dressed, her eyes red and bloodshot, her body sagging from endless hours of backbreaking work. Yet she forgets all that when she sees me. I didn’t know how Beakbreaker would react to seeing me. Would she cry, laugh, or scream at me? I didn’t know. It looks like she wants to do all three at once.

I look to Beakbreaker, unable to stop the tears from falling. “Beakbreaker? I... I need help.”

No one speaks as Beakbreaker remains where she is, seemingly frozen in place, unable to make up her mind on what she should do... and then she rushes to me, her legs wrapping around me as tightly as she can.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I lean into her embrace, both of us crying as I feel the one thing I never thought I’d feel again.

Hope.

Comments

[VcSaJen]

I've read fanfics featuring Discord of all beings, and they were good and challenging without powering him down, killing him off, or introducing god characters. I have feeling it's coming from your inability to handle Celestia right, and not for reasons like "Celestia can't be featured without being sucked into black hole forever or something". It remind me of CMC fanfics who reduce Mane 6 into damsels of distress, or killing Zecora off because of her rhymes.

[Greenback]

7471070
That's certainly possible; I haven't written Celestia yet in a serious, non-comedic situation (I'll be getting some practice in an upcoming one-shot), but there is one very specific reason I haven't had Celestia show up in the both "Monster" stories... but as I've said elsewhere, I'm not ready to reveal why just yet.

[Jakomi of the Rose]

I actually prefer the actual ending. I don't know why but it felt better. This kind of felt like a sequel was expected.

[Greenback]

7472032
Whoops, I should have specified that there was originally a final chapter after this that summarized Silverspeak working to overcome his depression, getting a new job, and marrying Beakbreaker, so this wasn't the final chapter. That's been changed in the description.

[Jakomi of the Rose]

7472056 Oh... my bad. But I actually like how it ended. So, in a way I was happy that this was a bonus.

[Tinker Tie]

7472032 Agreed, this feels more in line with what he'd do, plus I prefer it when information about the world is delivered by the characters in realistic dialogue, rather than a matter-of-fact report.

[xonxt]

Although I prefer the "original" ending, I like this style of chapter MUCH more, with actual narrative, dialogue and character thoughts, rather than just a quick summary of "stuff that happened".