A Four Letter Word

by RealityDowngrade

(10) Mk. C: Iron Fortress

Author's Note:

This concludes the crossover with Buck you, I'm Iron Man.

Here are a few visual references, should you care for that sort of thing:
Guard Bot (ground)
Guard Bot (aerial)
Robotic Overcoat (crimson armor)
Titan

Bottom of Ponyville Peak:

“That that bipedal freak has the gall to hide so close to us makes me sick, no offense,” the stealth-armored thestral mumbled, looking behind to me.

“None taken, and are you sure he’s in there” I whispered back, readjusting my crouch in the bushes at the foot of the mountain. I mean, not that I was an expert or anything, but it seemed like a pretty bad idea to set up shop anywhere so open to someone’s line of sight, especially with flying ponies to worry about.

“No, and as a matter of fact the two of us want an explosive-happy psycho to roam free in our country,” came Wisp’s tired reply as he elbowed his fellow mage. Through, considering he had only been able to follow the energy trail horn-first, eyes to the ground, the fact he was still talking in a controlled voice spoke volumes for his bearing considering the muck, scrapes, and tree-sap that now caked both him and his armor.

Everyone had been outfitted with dulled and darkened armor for this evening mission, save me, my own dark clothing providing enough camouflage in the growing gloom.

Patchwork, the ranking officer and earth pony, spat on the ground, “and to think he had the stones to return to his old base, even after we raided the place. Kudos for him, yeah? Anyway,” he said, motioning for everyone to circle up, “are you sure you’re up to this kid? Last time we came here we had an entire legion of unicorn guardsponies to keep this psycho’s traps from activating, you really think you can get past all that?” he hoofed in the general direction.

“Yes sir,” I replied, it’s not like you can touch a shadow after all. Looking down to my palm, my glittering-sand gave a reassuring swirl before turning to a skull and fading away.

“Alright,” Patchwork intoned, reaching out a hoof, which I, with minimal awkwardness, took in kind, “good luck in there,” and, without a further word, the six guardsponies fell back silently into the relative safety of Everfree Forest and the town of Ponyville.

Taking one last breath, I immersed myself into the second-dimension. Sliding forward on a thought, I went over the plan:

1. Grab intel: If Iron Man (I still can’t believe some nut would call himself that) was still in his old hide-out despite it’s obviously raided state then there must be a good reason for it, so I needed to stick to the shadows and use the crystal-eye, a sort of magical camera, for the Princesses to go over once I returned.

2. If possible, I was to capture the target and bring him back to Canterlot so the Elements could return him to stone, but, seeing as how I had bypassed Princess Luna’s enchantments with such ease, it was unlikely that the target would stay in place once I was noticed.

Simple really, and while I was busy, safe on the other side of the looking-glass, the guards would be returning to Ponyville where a platoon of guards was already shoring up the town’s defenses in case my little peep-show incurred… retaliations.

Slipping through the mouth of the cave of the mad-scientist, I wasn’t sure I had chosen the right tunnel, the natural rock looked completely uncut and was littered with the unwashed detritus of years to boot, but I wasn’t given a chance to wander further as my path was intercepted by a sheer wall of rock. Sliding on up, I hadn’t made but maybe five yards up the squared vertical-shaft when an explosion of rock sent a shower of dust over me and the hum of fluorescent lights blinked on from a worryingly undeterminable source. However, what was more worrying was watching the numerous oversized mechanical-beetles, nasty little red things about the size of a cat, that were swarming out the holes that had previously been blasted form the walls, like those that happened to be where my chest, arms, and groin were, and were swarming towards me, a whole shaft-worth of them. But, despite the echo of chills that sent my skin to crawl, the clicking-monstrosities were unable to touch, let alone harm me. So, giving my arms a calming, frenzied, scratching, I made my way up the shaft despite my impeded vision.

Swelling over the lip, I could only wonder if I had tripped off some sort of motion sensor, but with the growing gloom of the cave only kept from complete midnight-proportions of darkness from the odd smattering of crystals that were so abundant in Equestria reflecting off each other, I could only imagine at the power of such surveillance. And with that cheery thought in mind, I continued up, finding another two equally buggy shafts and made my way to the next empty, but now, metallic-hallway, the beetles never leaving their designated area to chase me further.

Continuing down the, now, horizontal passage, I jumped to the wall as the floor suddenly began flipping to reveal a field of tiles, their centers glowing red with a single random letter of the alphabet. The pattern of letters was utterly random, but at the end of the tunnel a large pair of speakers slid silently from the smoothed bedrock of the wall and said:

Through I may brighten anyone's day, yet I am not on fire,
I can easily spread to many, yet I am not a disease,
Through crafted with little effort, only the strongest may use me in the grip of terror.
What am I?

Ignoring the distinct feeling of déjà vu and adventure music sweeping across my mind, I continued across the wall giving the question the minimum amount of attention I could spare. I thought the answer might be ‘madness’, but then again I was never very good at riddles, and at any rate I wasn’t going to give an auditory account of my position. Taking a sharp turn, I found the hall plating had ended and opened to a great cavern, several football fields wide, devoid of nearly any formations or objects, save one. At the center of the cavern lay a large blue ovaloid, glowing both in its own light and the light of the heavens. In a way it almost resembled Luna’s mane, but rather than a meticulous swirl of stars and constellations there were whole galaxies burning, swirling, crashing and melding upon one another in a drowsy dance of the cosmos. It was a thing of utterly indescribable beauty, and then, it moved.

With a deliberate motion, a strange protrusion pulled away from the circular mass to shine twin molten-yellow eyes upon the wall I was currently pressed upon. Unwrapping itself further, the great ursine-esque beast revealed a great red button beneath itself, which it lazily pressed with its hind paw as it lumbered toward me. I wasn’t going to have any of that, and quickly scaled up to the ceiling, stomaching a sudden sense of vertigo.

Reaching up with deadly midnight-claws to the ceiling, the great Ursa Minor, I think they were called, gave a deep and, if my ears weren’t deceiving me, piteous cry, the lights in its eyes dimming as luminous-black spread from within.

In spite of myself, knowing that such creatures were better thought pacified rather than attacked if my memory of the show was correct, I paused, watching as the creature attempted to stand on its hind legs, pawing up to me as it did so, only to immediately lose its balance and land on its rump as sparkling tears began to roll down its great face while it continued to paw up at the ‘shadowy-specter’ above. I was almost tempted to go down and pet the poor thing, but then, as though a switch had been flipped, the Ursa Minor spun around and took to a sprint, barreling towards and unadorned section of the cavern’s wall only for it to suddenly open on a set of hidden hinges as the double doors swung open, allowing the creature uninterrupted passage.

Following behind I briefly attempted to merge with the creature’s shadow and try for one more attempt at stealth, despite all evidence to the contrary that a shadow in a cave was being tracked, but found the glow of the great beast prevented so much as a shaded foot-fall, and, instead, followed on the ceiling above, wondering what call the beast must have received, and in part myself, as by all accounts I seemed to be expected.

While only a few seconds, the beast traversed up the spiraling passage which opened into an elegant squared-off room that might have dwarfed the size to the previous cavern were it not for the gratuitous piles of dusty piles of machinery that dotted the floor like malformed termite mounds which took nearly half the space of the room ending in an invisible, no less distinct line of emptiness which the great bear dutifully stopped roughly thirty yards before to slide to a halt on the white-tiled floor.

From the roof I could see the glowing haze that marked the hive of the room’s activity. A flurry of holographic-screens and spherical robots ranging in size from my fist to twice over the size of my head circled the singular occupant of the room, a singular man wearing a smartly-cut business-suit. I might have mistaken him from human, his cartoonish appearance notwithstanding as my own made even me feel suspect as I passed the stranger in the mirror, were it not for how his hands blurred in a flurry of motion as he manipulated the screens of light that swarmed around him. It was really a feat that his arms hadn’t popped out of their sockets from how they jittered, but his controlled mutterings suggested that he was far used to working at such speeds.

The bear, however, was not having any of this ‘being-ignored’ business, and gave a low yip, which was immediately responded with quick, “Hold on sweetie, Daddy’s almost done.” The response was, of course, not enough, as the bear sat upon its haunches, and continued to whine.

With a groan, the man gave a great sweep of his arms, sending the holo-screens to vanish. Then, seemingly unbidden, the floor beneath him lit in a circle of sterile-light around him, humming gently, and raised itself from the floor to softly float toward the, now, happily panting bear who had turned on its, well, her side in preparation of a tummy-rub that was all too swiftly received as the floating platform reached the vast expanse of fur.

“Oh yes, you’re my sweet little girl, oh yes you are,” he crooned, as the giant bear’s leg began to dance about in the air. “Did my brilliant little Bubbles bring up the silly little dissy-placed.”

The great bear gave a low and thrumming groan of affirmation, motioning her head to whatever was behind her.

“Hey, yeah, you can come out now,” he said, head turning to the ceiling, his tone deepening for normal conversation, “my Ursa Minor doesn’t go about eating people like the others you typically find in these kinda mountainous lairs believe it or not.”

I flinched, unsure how to react, but erring on the side of keeping the man who had angered the Princesses from anger himself, I relented, sliding down from the roof to lie perpendicular to the target, and was immediately glad of my shadow form muting my stunned double-take, stopping just six feet from him.

“Yeah, hey, names Iron Man, or at least that’s my handle ever since I got here, and, well, I do technically,” he smirked, leaning down towards me “have a few suits that I’ve put together, so there really isn’t any actual difference. And the fact that I look remarkably like Robert Downey Jr. certainly doesn’t hurt matters,” he said, loosening his shimmering black-tie. “Still, glad to see you, sorry to call you over while I was nodding off. Hope you were able to have a good time, but hey,” and snapped his fingers, a wooden paneled box humming up from behind one of the many piles of half and pre-formed piles of metal and wires, “care for a drink?”

I remained silent, eyeing the room from my flattened perspective as the wooden box came to a rest by the Tony Stark look-a-like and began to whir as sleek robotic arms began mixing the man’s drink.

“You’re a quiet one huh,” Iron Man said, sweeping up his glass before the robotic arms could hand it to him, “excuse me,” he said, slamming back his drink in one go, “tend to lose track of time when I get- another one,” he said to the bar, “so, when I get going, opening up new economic venues for the griffins and the like, one ca- oh thanks,” he said as the bar presented his drink, “yeah, you can power through a couple missed-meals, but it’s when you get thirsty things get a little eeehhh, annoying. But enough about me,” he said, tugging off his tie entirely as he flashed another pearly-white smile, “you having a good time in this neck of the Equestria-verse?”

As disquieting as it was to see someone who so casually stated they now looked and sounded like Robert Downey Jr, if a bit more rounded in the cheeks, I managed to stopped fiddling with my pockets. Ignoring his derailing train of thought and hoping, though not really expecting to get the desired response, a I quietly stated, “Please come quietly.”

In response, Iron Man raised a sharp eyebrow and said, “Well I’m sorry, but I was planning on going on a little business trip with Bubbles an- waaaiiit…” he said, stepping closer, his hand going to his chin. “You’re from Canterlot aren't you, well, unless that shimmering strand of mane you’ve got on your shoulder there is from my innocent little Bubbles? Isn’t one thousand years long enough for a crime that I didn't commit?

I glared, though I could only imagine how poorly it was conveyed by my blackened profile as I batted away the offending light-source.

Pointing to me as he turned on his heel for the bar he tossed back, “Seriously man, it is. Right? Anyway,” he said, rolling his eyes as he rounded the counter, “how long were you in this Equestria? Be honest.”

“I was told you would already know that,” I said, just keeping the growl from my accusation.

“I honestly have no idea, I was asleep for the last few hours after finding a raided vault,” Iron Man explained, seeming disappointed, but in a bored tone added, “and what exactly did the princesses tell you about me anyway?”

“That you were charged with the destruction of the Crystal Empire, the murder of its citizenry, and have been mistakenly discharged from your sentence” I quickly replied, my tone still even.

“Oh please,” Iron Man waved a dismissive hand, “I didn’t even destroy the empire or murder anyone.”

“Your duly held trial says otherwise, now please,” I said, an edge finally breaking in at the devolving conversation, “come quietly.”

“That trial was rigged,” Iron Man thundered suddenly, shattering his half-finished drink upon the bar, “I was wholly unable to speak and I had a baby as a defense attorney.”

Gaping, I silently looked to his ears just to double check his brains hadn’t begun to leak out of them. He couldn’t possibly think I was that stupid, could he? Holding down the urge to roll my eyes and remain focused on the target I, again, stated, “Please, come quietly.”

“Okay, look, I can prove what I am saying is true” Iron Man said, his free hand drumming on the tabletop as the other rummaged under the bar, pulling out a sleek quick-silver helmet with a camera-lens mounted on the forehead. “This,” he said, raising the helmet out to his side, “is called The Recollection Projector Mark Five. It can project a selected memory no matter how far back or poorly remembered it is,” he said, slowly setting it in place upon his head, “here, let me show you.”

Shaking from my stupor I flung out my hand, black-sand streaming from my palm and out into the world with every intent to ensnare the knock-off before he put on the helmet and I found out what it really did.

With smooth and practiced ease, Iron Man tapped the center of his chest as an opaque sphere of white energy bloomed around him, blocking the sand entirely. “Cheap shot,” he frowned in my direction, but I was already on the move for a more defensible position and had moved to one of the shadows beneath a nearby pile of machinery.

Pressing in more of my sand I found the shield impenetrable, but so long as he was contained and unable to harm me, the helmet having been dropped upon the bar as the shield activated, I was fine with that and began covering the shield entirely, intending to lift both it and its creator off the floor.

A loud whirring-beep sounded from within the black-sphere and immediately the workroom was set ablaze with light as the spherical-drones returned, side hatches hissing open to reveal twin horizontal-mounted guns, and from the way they were beginning to glow red I was glad I had moved from the pile they were still aiming at. Bubbles on the other hand, snarling at the mistreatment of her daddy, rushed towards my containment field. With every thunderous step, she began glow with ire, the stars of her fur bursting into white-hot novas, and, with her final stepped she opened her great maw and unleashed a cascade of celestial power, sending my sand to scream as it scattered in smoking shards to the corners of the great room.

“You know,” said Iron Man, a drink once more in hand, his shield having expanded to hold the, now, small floating bar, “It’s kind of rude to interrupt, and in the words of another tragic hero,” pressing the knot of his tie, he said, voice morphing down a few octaves, “you done goofed.”

‘The hell?’ I thought, trying to understand what sort of psycho talks in… internet references in combat. ‘Where was he from?!?’ I wondered, thunderstruck, trying to ignore the little voice in my head that suggested I was just too small a threat for him to take me seriously. I. Was. Not. Weak.

If the comic-book world thought it could take me on I was more than willing to take it to the shredder. Focusing my thoughts, I sent my sand up through one of the random trash piles to draw his attention, taking the shape of a more classical chassis of “Iron Man” the original dessert-escape model, but with substantially more bulk and shoulder mounted rocket-pods, and, of course, a black rather than steel-grey finish.

“Oh my,” Iron Man purred, perching his lips. “But in all seriousness,” he said, shrugging back into a relaxed stance and spreading his hands, “why? I was just about to show my innocence when I was attacked by a cloud of blackened dust.” Looking down to a glowing-red cufflink, he gave it a quick squeeze. In response, a squad of white robots, grey servos and hydraulics brazenly on display and toting massive glowing barrels on both arms, stomped in as a similarly number of flying blue-warriors swept in from behind to hold position above their grounded counter-parts, training square-looking assault rifles on target as they began to fan out around my creation. Certainly more armored than the former, there seemingly clunky design suggested they were built for short-range aerial attacks, but from the way they swung through the air, I couldn’t imagine they were truly designed for indoor capabilities, even in as big a, well, cave, as this.

“Gentlemen,” he said once my puppet was surrounded, “it appears that our guest wishes to leave, please escort him outside with all due prejudice. And oh,” he added, taking another sip, “don’t worry, those nasty looking guns are set for stun, for now. Unless,” a wolfish grin slowly spreading across his face, “you’ve just really got a royal-boner for the princesses and want to impress them with a fine catch like myself?”

His penchant for babbling aside, his robots did have me worried, though I was glad of the one that was currently ushering his fell beast back to its room, that was one problem down. As for the others, sending up sand through the false rocket-pods was certainly an option, but it would give them ample time to react to those not hit. I needed to do something fast, incapacitate them… jam up… there…

Sending a burst of nightmare-sand to explode off my “armor”, taking a good portion of what I had been able to scrap together from a hand-full of belief and shrinking it a good deal, I watched as my sand swept past the robots entirely rather than stop to gum up their gears. I mentally cursed at my sudden turn of bad luck, but watched in sudden awe as a ring of lacerated arms and legs fell to the floor as sparking chest-pieces followed in their wake.

“Ok, points for style,” Iron Man inclined. “Buuut,” he said, sliding off his jacket as the previously-hidden metal-plating beneath began to click into place and cover his face “you still seem to be working under the delusion that I’ll... come quietly, was it?”

Taking a step forward, the Nightmare-Machine was sent flying back as Iron Man gave a second tap of his chest-piece, sending his shield to burst as hulking suit of crimson and gold plated armor, nearly six times as big as himself fell from the ceiling above, engulfing Iron Man in yet another layer of technological defense.

Swinging the construct smoothly back up on its heels like a vampire from its coffin, and, without a sound, gave a sudden rush, gliding silently across the surface of the floor. I wasn’t going to let up, and I certainly wasn’t going to let this jack pop up any more surprises from his boxes. Speeding it up, I watched as Iron Man twisted his armored-hands to show two glowing palms which let loose a blast of light that made the air itself shimmer as it shattered the nightmare-machine’s chest in a thousand pieces leaving the arms and legs to dangle comically for a few seconds before they peeled off from what was left and land on the floor.

“Piece of cake,” Iron Man gloated boredly, before I recalled the sand to the dark to send the whole of it in a single torrent from the nearest pile of junk behind him, slicing through the circuitry with disturbing ease.

As the last few remnants of his busted armor fell to the ground, without injury to him, somehow, but I wasn’t going to look a gift-horse in the mouth, my dark-sand began to balling up around him, I said, “I wouldn’t make any sudden movements if I were you,” sliding, still in shadow, out from the pile of rusting garbage I had moved to during the fight, and, deciding to try and scare him into keeping still I added “the smell of fear makes finer motor control like keeping the flesh on your body a bit tricky.”

“Yeah, fuck that,” groused Iron Man, shaking the last few remnants of his busted armor still clinging to his exposed head to fall to the ground, before disappearing in a sudden puff of multicolored confetti, leaving my sand to grasp at nothing.

“What? Nooo” I cried, my growl cut short by the sudden wail of a klaxon siren and the niggling little memory of being told on the list of ridiculous things he could do, one was teleport. ‘And now the lights are blinking red, that’s a good sign,’ I thought sarcastically.

“Activate, the Titan!” came Iron Man’s command from an unseen speaker as yet another set of doors, they must have been one hundred feet high, hidden into the side of the farthest wall began to slowly open, only to explode outward with a good section of the wall as whatever wanted out lost its patience.

As the dust and rubble settled, I saw a massive fist pull smoothly back to the chest of its chest before falling to its side of the eighty-foot robot it was attached to. From head to toe it was decked in weaponry of every description. Already, the chainsaw attached to its left-arm was beginning to screech to life as the bladed-teeth began to glow a hateful-orange and the cannons upon its shoulders had begun to spread to keep the heat of the barrels from warping its neighbor upon firing. “By the way,” returned the taunting voice of Iron Man, “I wouldn’t recommend the sand thing. Well, unless you don’t mind a bit of super-heated plasma-shielding.” And with that the monstrous-machine was suffused in an aura of sky-blue.

“Fine,” I sneered, slipping under one of the torn pieces of wall as the first of the rockets fired from the great robot. No one was there, I could feel it, and I was just slipping into the deep dark, ready to tell Princess Luna and Celestia of the many dangerous machines when, much to my surprise, I saw a light. Moving towards it, I slid from under a towering stack of sterile white boxes. “Impossible,” I muttered, unbelieving someone with the ability to teleport would remain so close to the field of battle but for the lone figure before me madly pushing and pressing at the colorful knobs, levers, and button arrayed on the wide, curving panel before him, surrounded by a bevy of those floating spheres, though, this time not a single one was smaller than twice my own head.

“Wait. What?” Iron Man exclaimed, turning his head as his machines let forth a volley of energy blasts, leaving the air to shimmer at the heat of their wake. “There’s no way he should have gotten past all my shielding,” he muttered aloud, fingers blurring upon his console as what looked like schematics of the mountain began to glow in the holographic screen lighting before him.

Still moving forward, the fluorescent lighting keeping all but my own shadow at bay, I tried for Iron Man’s feet, only for my hands to pass through the tiny splotches of darkness beneath his soles. I didn’t fully expect something like that to work with how little I still knew about my body, but with the living Swiss-army knife, I wasn’t going to let him try anything new and hurt anyone on my watch. So, with a snap of my fingers to get his attention, my sand already moving through the darkness at my silent order, I slid over the console, curving my body to crescent along its entirety as he jerked his hands back, and stated, “I wouldn’t do anything hasty if I were you, not unless you’d like to see the color of your precious little Bubbles’ insides.”

Iron Man’s eyes widened, a row of emotions flashing across his lips before pressing into a fine line, and said, “Fine, I will go with you, just don’t hurt my little girl.” He then turned to the drones. “I will be gone for a little while, activate the force-field, and keep on those construction bots for repairs, and oh, keep ten percent on hold for any damaged bots they come across.” Turning to his console, with a swift motion the screen changed to show his Ursa Minor just as a spiked-ring of black-sand fell around its neck, cinching into place, he said, “Bubbles, if I don’t make it back in a week you’ll be in charge, so I need you to be strong for me. Okay?” Bubbles, responding in kind, gave a small nod. Flicking off the screen, a general hum of background-energy also beginning to dissipate, Iron Man turned to me and said, “I’ll go,” tightening his fists, “I just need to make a call and grab something. Is that okay?”

“No,” I stated coldly.

Iron Man stepped back, “Aren’t you arresting me? Don’t I have a right to get a lawyer and try to defend myself?”

“You’re an escaped convict,” I said evenly, “Now, if you would be so kind as to turn off the lights," ready to call up one massive cloud at once before he could do anything funny, "we will go.”

“No,” Iron Man snarked, clearly missing the point, “their my generators, and I’ll do what I want with them,” then added, “and what makes you say that I am guilty, you know,” he said, waving his hand in the air vaguely, “aside from the princesses’ mere word that I destroyed an empire that I had no connections to and escaped false imprisonment. Tell me that I am wrong.” Rolling my eyes in the silence he continued. “I believe that you said, I was, and I quote, ‘charged with the destruction of the Crystal Empire, the murder of its citizenry, and have been mistakenly discharged from your sentence.’ How about we break that apart, so you can find reason in what I did. First off, the destruction of the Crystal Empire. I bring you back to the invention that I was going to show you, the Recollection Stereopticon mark five, a device that can show your exact and true memories without fail. I can test it on you first if you doubt that I am being honest.”

After a moment I let out a sigh. He was getting more agitated, and might just pop off again after he decides his little pet isn’t worth a life sentence, so, swallowing my growing frustration I said, “If I answer you, will you turn off the lights?”

“Depends, do you promise not to take me in the second I do? Pinkie Promise?” Iron Man asked, leaning in.

“You have my word,” I said, inclining his head, ‘Specifically, just the letter of it,’ I thought.

“Do you know the words?” asked Iron Man.

Sighing, but still keeping the questionable sanity of the… person in front of my in mind, I brought a blackened finger to my chest and said, “cross my heart, and should I lie, I’ll stick a needle in my eye.”

“Close enough,” Iron Man sighed, “now, about that answer?”

Taking a breath, I said, “You’re a wanted criminal, everything you say is suspect, it’s that simple. But,” I added, “if you really think I would let you purposefully use any amount of technology or magic after having witnessed what you did with your shield and security bots, you must really think I’m stupid if I’d willingly let you use any piece of equipment near me.”

“Alright,” Iron Man said as a chilling silence began to fill the room, “I think I know what’s going on here. You’re probably still new to this, but it’s often a knowing tell that a liar will give a spike of adrenaline when lying, in other words, a spike of fear. So,” he said, reaching behind his rear-end to reveal his earlier helmet while pressing his chest-piece in a single fluid motion, his opaque shield once more falling into place before I had time to realize my mistake, “I’m going to share this with you, and then,” he let the sentence fall, a holo-screen projecting out of the protective bubble.

*[o]*

As the picture came into focus, it revealed a pegasus in flight, her white fur sparkling like the tiny snow-caps in the far off distance, though at the speed the clouds were zipping by her they certainly weren’t going to stay that size for long. Running a hoof to keep the vibrating mass of golden curls that was her mane away from her brilliant periwinkle eyes, the other gave a reassuring pat to the winter sports-bag nestles behind her. With a warming smile, she looks over to Iron Man and chimes, “Can’t wait to ski and snowboard in the Crystal Empire. What about you Jacob?

Jacob, despite the air-resistance and the wobble it brings to his armored-flight, brings up a gauntleted hand to his plated-face, then says, “You know, I think I’d like to do some sledding. Haven't done that in a while.”

The flight continues, uninterrupted, as they focus on getting to the fun as fast as they can manage, but, after crossing the last line of snow-capped mountains, are soon given to the sight of the Crystal Empire at War.

Crystalline constructs, the basic shape of a pony, but with clawed distended-limbs and a great toothy maw where the head would have been were currently in mortal combat with the gold and silver-plated armies of Celestia and Luna’s army. Even from their distance, both could see these skeletal-like monstrosities, simply dripping with dark-magic from every joint, were winning the fight.

With a simultaneous look to one another, Jacob and Surprise said, “We’ve got to help them.”

What followed next was what might be called a comedic spy-infiltration routine as both, simultaneously, donned matching shinobi shozoku were it not directly followed by the stealthy infiltration they made across an active battlefield, through the ring of corrupted crystal-buildings and patrolling crystal golems, into the moving dimensions that encompassed the twisting corridors of the Crystal Castle brimming with Sombra’s dark power, and finally up the infinite staircase that led to the dark king’s throne-room. Topping the hateful stairs, they were met with the back of King Sombra as he used his vile magic to guide the corrupted Crystal Heart to impart power and direction to a scaled-down illusion of the battlefield they had previously crossed, and, without turning, Sombra deeply intoned, “And to what do I owe the pleasure of an impure pegasus and her metal golem in my court this day?”

Clenching his fists, Jacob gave a metallic growl and said, “Say you're sorry to her.”

Sombra only laughed, his attention still clearly upon the movement of the battlefield. “Quite the extravagance, not many of your kind would spend the bits to achieve any form of speech where a battle-enchantment or weapon might be placed instead. And here I thought you pegasi were at least pragmatic enough to make a hoof-soldier’s war.” Jacob then tapped his shoulder, something which finally surprised the grey unicorn enough to look away from his orchestrations for a look of growing wonder spread upon on his face. “You do know there are easier ways to find death, yes?”

“I want two things,” Jacob said, removing his hand, “first, I want you to take back what you said about my friend, and second, I want you to make the fight down there even by not pumping them with dark magic.” Jacob said, never backing away from Sombra.

Bearing a grin far more pointed, and toothsome, than any pony was ever meant to show, Sombra quietly stated, “No.” Then, before Jacob could react, a lance of dark energy leapt from Sombra’s red curved-horn to Surprise, locking her in a semi-opaque mass of black crystal. “Now, be a good little construct and back away, and I might just think about keeping your low-born master ali-” he paused, temporarily robbed of speech by the glove that had detached from Jacob’s hand to rocket-punch into his, now, bleeding nose. The look of unadulterated anger that bloomed on his face upon learning of his wounded state was matched only by the sudden thrust of energy he took from the Crystal Heart, the map disappearing in the process, and hurled at Jacob

Jacob dodged, the floor beneath him melting as his boots rocketed him back into flight, only for the ground to explode up to him as the dark energy dispersed across it. More energy was flung in deadly bolts of wavering, chaotic magic, and each was met by an equally skilled dodge, missile, and energy blast, but just when it looked like Jacob might be gaining an upper hand, Sombra gave a purple-pulse of his horn, and became darkness, his body expanding into a formless, billowing cloud, his features marred but for his eyes, which, while larger, were no less distinct nor hate-filled.

“I-” Sombra echoed, but was cut short as the room began to shake. Turning his eyes to the floor, he recalled his spell of the battlefield where his crystal-skeletons were being summarily routed, as others in the princesses’ employ had begun to march into the city, and now, obviously, into his own castle. The look of abject hatred that exploded out in hateful wisps from his cloudy form were only matched by the inert Crystal Heart that had stopped pumping his constructs with added dark-power that he’d neglected by playing with his food whilst at war. “I will not lose,” he growled, the whole of his body glowing with black-light as the Crystal Heart began to spin above him, and, with a sudden burst of power, sent Jacob flying out through where a disappearing wall just managed to vanish before the collision would have occurred, and, instead, Jacob continued his trajectory past the shielded-borders of the Empire and out into the snow-swept mountains he’d intended to enjoy with his friend.

Armored as he was, the shock had overloaded his systems enough for sparks of electricity to begin arcing across his joints, and, looking out to the open air where once an entire city had stood, Jacob got up, his face-plate sliding up to reveal set of, now, violently straight hair with a fiery set of eyes beneath, glaring to his stolen friend as twin rivulets of tears began mixing with the snot running down his nose. Falling to his side, the snow cushioning him, he began to weep, only stopping when he heard the groan of wounded pony-soldiers. Picking himself up, face-plate sliding back into place, he slowly made his way through the snow before violently hitting himself in the head as he remembered to activate his boots, and began the process of helping the broken others around him, and back to the tents where they could be treated.

*[o]*

Taking off the helmet, the projection going with it, Jacob turned to me, tears in his eyes, and asked calmly, “Do you want me to continue, or did you get all of the data that you needed?”

“I, uh,” I replied, focusing back on Iron M- Jacob as the screen blinkered off. I knew his line about adrenaline in connection to lying was a load of horse-hockey, he still clearly thought I was an idiot, but what caught my attention was that the very center of his fear, for just a moment, had wavered, as he worried I wouldn’t believe the truth.

Iron Man then put a hand to his ear, “Sorry, I can’t hear you.”

“You’re not... lying?” I questioned, more to myself than to Jacob.

“If it means anything, I forgive you.” said Iron Man as he deactivated the shield with a poke, “I know better than most people how overwhelming it can be in Celestia’s presence.”

“Why?”

“She may be an immortal goddess of light, but,” he paused for emphasis, “she isn’t perfect, and she knows it. In fact, most of what her little ponies consider her image are merely instances of pure slander to uplift herself, and she will go to Tartarus and back to keep everypony thinking so, even if it meant imprisoning me so I could be seen as a terrorist to be put away instead of a trauma victim so she didn’t have to deal with the shit politics that led to her capitulating to a dictator until he got so powerful he decided to invade her kingdom. She’d also send out a person with enough power to stop me on a veritable witch hunt, which leaves me with one question,” he smirked, moving to squat next to Wayde, “You want to help me troll her?”

“No,” I hissed, clenching my fists at his puerile attitude. What was wrong with this world? I was grasping at straws, too much happening at once, too many emotions. In the dark I could hear my sand already shifting and in that growing noise I felt a cold tendril wrap around my mind to whisper: manipulative bastards the lot of them. “I think I’m going to have a little chat with her myself instead,” I glowered coldly.

“I actually have a plan that will take a while to do, but has a huge payoff.” Jacob said, smiling as though I hadn’t tried to capture him under false pretenses five minute ago. “It involves that trip that I mentioned. You see, it is quite simple, I go and amass a wealth of positive PR while also bolstering the economy of other countries and I return with the political power to make her publically apologize in front of her king-”

“Yeah that’s cute and all,” I interrupted, not caring in the slightest what this child in a man’s body was busy babbling about, drowning him out with the growing wall of white noise building in my ears. “I’m going to wear her skin like feety-pajamas by nightfall,” I hissed, my vision beginning to swim as more of my emotional footing began to crumble.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, I dislike Sun Ass as much as the next guy, but let’s not get crazy. She still needs to be alive for the sun to rise, and I don’t want you killing anyone unless if they are one hundred percent evil.”

“Corruption is one-hundred percent no matter the proportion. But like I said,” I remarked quietly, slowing my speech as though I were talking to a particularly slow child, “it’s only if things go according to plan.”

“Talking and scolding I will allow,” Jacob said, jumping to block my path, “but no fucking murder, comprende?”

“Indeed,” I grunted, sliding under Jacob without missing a beat as much as my hyperbole had missed him, his supposed ability to allow me anything sliding into second place for the biggest joke this world had to offer, my own hideous gullibility taking the top slot.

“Oh crap,” Jacob gasped as I continued for the darkness crates beyond, "thinkthinkthinkthinkthink yessss, token, sand, he's a displaced, send back, right, what was it," last of my head just began to slip beneath the crates when I heard him shout, “Our contract is complete!” as he dashed back to type a string of commands into the bunker’s console.

A golden light bloomed above me, and a familiar pulling sensation began tugging me from of the deep-dark as the nightmare-sand once more began to spike along my limbs, “God dammit, no, not again!” I cried out, my feet already pulling into the event-horizon of the golden tear in space, ready to throw me into who knew where this time.

“Perhaps the next time we meet, it could go a bit better,” Jacob said as his console beeped, producing a pale-grey twelve by twelve inch cube from the center. Picking it up, he tossed it into the vortex just as it swallowed the last of my grip, adding, “hopefully this will help mellow you out,” and tossed in a small red-gear for good measure, which I uselessly flinched from, fearing an explosion that didn’t come, sending me to spin about in the aether just as the portal closed.

***

Equestria: Version 13.9.1818.1518

Falling through the emptiness, the nightmare-sand seemed to dig into me more viciously than it had the first time. ‘He had known, he lied to me,’ the quiet thought buzzed behind the cacophony of feelings that flooded my senses. But even in the haze of frustration and violence I was still cognizant enough for my fear to hold me in place, and as soon as my body bounced and skidded to a halt on the ground below me I waited for oblivion…

…

…

The sound of feathers and tinkling of magic burst around my ears as the rush of their surrounding fears bombarded me. Someone put a hoof on my back, flipping me over. Even with my eyes held tightly shut, the darkness gave way to a suffused red as the sunlight bled through the thin membranes from above. I had been lied to, bamboozled, and suckered. I was frustrated, and worse, I continued to embarrass myself by crying in front of others.

“Stop touching me,” I heard myself hiss as I fell to the cold-isolation of the shadows. I just needed to be alone, why didn’t they understand. I just needed to be alone, and they wouldn’t have to stoop to bothering with me.

Resurfacing, I leaned forward, the warmth of the sun heating my neck and back as the cool of the soft carpet-like grass began warming beneath my crossed-legs. Closing my eyes, the light reflecting off of the white-marble surrounding me, I took in a soothing, warm breath of air, the scent of the flowers just beyond the hedges tickling my nose, and listened. Taking in the soft keening of the wind as it flowed around the stonework around me, I began to wait out the storm and pull my emotions back where they belonged. Soon, I would be able to think again and make up for my mistakes.

Comments

[Ink Sword]

Interesting, I wonder what future meetings between the two characters will be like.

[Ink Sword]

Congrats on getting featured!

[ArcaneVisions]

Meh. Had no interest in the other story. Skipped most of this chapter. Turned into some commando story instead of a strange person in a strange place story, Dunno, just was so different then the previous chapters. Didn't even particically like the last one and all it's fighting either.

[RealityDowngrade]

6199200
A fair cop to be sure, and while your own tastes are just that, when it comes to Wayde, it was certainly a bit of a jump from where he was, yes, but given his respect for authority and with super powers that allow him to interact with the world without being touched himself, is it really too much of a stretch for him to jump at the chance to do some good, especially given how vile he holds his own power to take information from people's minds?

[RealityDowngrade]

6229126
No, it's someone who dressed like him, but I understand that this hasn't gone how you might have preferred and wish you well.

[Arachne the weaver]

For some reason each time I read the title of this story the only word that comes to mind is: Fuck

[RealityDowngrade]

6255947
Do you mean it seems ill fitting or foreboding?

[Arachne the weaver]

6256068
It has nothing to do with the story, its contents or characters; it's just that I don't know many four letter words

[RealityDowngrade]

6256215
Ah, well, that's alright I suppose.

[jakegorman]

love the story so far cant wait for the next chapter to come out hope its soon

[RealityDowngrade]

6452180
Mostly as a weapon of psychological warfare. Certainly that would be more self evident if I was keeping up on writing this like I should, but to each their own. Hope you find a story more to your liking soon. :3

[stephen51991]

“Oh yes, you’re my sweet little girl, oh yes you are,” he crooned, as the giant bear’s leg began to dance about in the air. “Did my brilliant little Bubbles bring up the silly little dissy-placed.”

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