Epilogue 1: Day of Peace (293 AE)
Bingham Canyon proved not to be the paradise of technology and progress Alex had promised: mostly it was temporary buildings and lots of metal supports sunk into concrete near the bottom of a gigantic open-pit mine. Yet even the temporary structures on the rim had electricity and running water. As Jackie went into surgery, Alex learned that she herself was being brought on as an advisory engineer on the construction of “Paradise Crater.”
Not because there weren’t any humans or ponies of the HPI to do the job, as little Ezri guessed on their first day. Rather, because the HPI had begun to suspect that Athena had ulterior motives with some of her decisions. Most construction was robotic these days, including everything from the bots on the ground doing the building to the blueprints they worked from. None of their staff could possibly hope to correlate as much data as the AI, not even with their brains pumped full of newly-invented hyperawareness drugs.
Archive could, though. She didn’t bother telling them that hiring her was a waste of time, that Athena could no more conceive of hurting them than she could put herself in a human body and leave the sky. If being an engineer was what it took to get treatment for the abused minors of the Frontier Company, then she would endure it.
Paradise Crater had a population of about ten humans, fifty ponies, and several thousand probes. Alex fit herself into the culture quickly enough, but Jackie and Ezri had a little more trouble. Their needs were more than taken care of, but there was very little of what Alex would’ve otherwise considered essential services in a pony city. For example, there was no flight class, something all three of them now needed. While all the ponies in town were transformed humans, they were also transfers from Bountiful, and thus already understood basic skills.
Two weeks had passed since their arrival before Alex tried to go flying for the first time. She wasn’t alone; both her adoptive daughter and her new friend were there. The location might’ve been chosen for its secrecy, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t throw what they needed for an afternoon into Alex’s saddlebags and go for a walk. They didn’t go far, just outside the old mine where the breezes could blow freely. Their picnic/flying lesson was conveniently located beside a fairly deep pond, which Alex hoped could be used for emergency landings.
Equestria had provided more than a dozen books on flying. Some just covered the theory, while others explained the minutia of dangerous maneuvers or detailed ways to prompt the creation of different types of weather using flight-pattern alone. Apparently this was by far the more popular of the Equestrian weather arts: there were very few accounts of ponies simply willing the weather to do what they wanted.
“So Jackie, did you actually read Airborne in Thirty Days?” Alex hadn’t worn her engineer’s uniform today, though by operating code her new (and non-melted) cyber-gauntlet would remain on her hoof at all times while on base, even when she was off-duty. Packed with new features compared to her old it might be, but it still felt like a shackle on her leg.
“I didn’t skim that much!” Jackie nudged a large rock onto one corner of the blanket, and she used her work as an excuse not to meet Alex’s eyes. “I mean, I read the first few sections. We shouldn’t get past chapter two today, right?”
Alex only sighed. “Well, we won’t now. What about you, Ezri?”
Her daughter beamed, little wings buzzing. Ezri hadn’t complained even once about the uniform, not when they were in public. The instant they left though, she ditched it as quick as Alex. There were no other children for her to play with in Paradise Crater, so she had taken to following Alex around all day as her assistant. She only got away with it because she never, ever complained. If she wasn’t allowed in a secure area, she would sit down outside it and wait for Alex to come back, for hours straight if necessary.
“Twice!” Ezri bounced once, her wings moving again. She seemed to hang in the air a second before falling back down to her hooves. “I... I couldn’t read most of the words, but... the nice human in the computer helped me sound them out!”
“Athena helped...” She trailed off, then shrugged. It wasn’t as though the AI’s capabilities were bounded in any way Alex understood. “Well, that was very nice of her. So long as it helped you learn.”
Alex set out their picnic, but they didn’t actually eat it. The sandwiches and soda would be their reward for work well done. Her little group spread out into a triangle, to do their wing-stretches. Well, two of them stretched. Ezri just watched.
Eventually they finished. “Alright. So let’s think about flight.” She started reciting from Airborne in 30 Days. “Though some see it as a muscular activity, flight for ponies is not as it is for other creatures. Our understanding of lift and density indicates that many pegasus ponies would not have the musculature to generate enough lift no matter how much they practice.”
“Fortunately for ponies everywhere, we have another tool; magic. Flight is no less an effort of thaumaturgical strength than the might of an earth pony or the spells of a unicorn. It is entirely possible for a pegasus possessed of only weak muscles and small wings to get airborne, if their will is strong. Making use of one's magical reserves is a muscular effort, and will improve with practice. As you learn to fly, understand this is the true purpose of the exercises we have included—”
“Alright Alex, we get it. We’re learning magic. Let’s actually do some!”
Alex smiled, holding up one hoof in a placating fashion. “Alright Jackie, alright. You two remember the jumping exercise?”
“It was the first drawing in the book.”
Ezri nodded too, though she didn’t say anything.
“Good, let’s do it. Stand straight, then open your mind. Focus on your wings, feel the magic of the air, and then jump. We’ll do... fifty? Fifty sounds good, right?”
Alex heard her friends start to jump long before she did. She had, after all, read all the books, and knew what they said. If she could figure out the magic to get her airborne, then her wings would be what she used to get control. It was so basic that most ponies in Equestria (apparently) learned it purely through reflex. Perhaps Ezri would’ve learned it that way in her hive, if she hadn’t been snatched away for a life of individuality and danger beside the Archive.
Archive’s magical senses were heightened as she tried to feel her connection with the air. After all, she had done something similar when she had wrangled that storm into helping her fight. Yet while a supercell might hold stupendous power, the air itself was much harder to sense. It had been around her for a lifetime after all, and she had been trained all that time to ignore it. To an earth pony, being too close to the air might even be dangerous, since breaking contact with earth could take away her powers.
It wasn’t some ethereal sense of the sky Archive felt as she stood in place, concentrating on her flight and trying to tune out the sound of her friends jumping over and over.
The sound didn’t even come from her mind. Instead it came from the pond. Water bubbled as it whispered her name. “Archive...”
She opened her eyes. Jackie hadn’t noticed, and was still jumping up and down in place, her wings flapping wildly. Ezri had stopped, and turned to face the pond. Her whole body went rigid, like a dog that had just sensed a predator.
“Archive.” When it spoke the second time, the voice came accompanied with a faint gurgling sound from the lake. Putrid bubbles burst as they reached the surface, filling the air with a scent far worse than damp mines and sulphur.
“Jackie, stop.” Alex faced the pond, advancing a pace closer.
The thestral obeyed, then wrinkled her nose. “God, Alex. Did you eat nothing but cabbage for the last few months and not tell us?”
The voice ignored both of them. “Archive! I have words for you!” The water in the center of the little pond began to froth and boil, going from clear to rot green.
“Back away, now.” She shoved past Jackie, eyes icy cold. Ezri retreated without the need for instructions, though she never once looked away from the pond.
“Should I get help?” Her changeling daughter shivered, clutching about herself against an invisible chill.
Alex nodded. “Jackie, get her to the crater. Run and don’t turn around.”
“Alex, I won’t—”
“Listen to your protector, child. I am not here to make new slaves today. My words are not for you.”
Archive nodded, though it practically hurt to agree with a being like this. She recognized the voice well. As she turned again to face the water, she saw its bubbling and frothing had congealed into something like a solid form. Water oozed and boiled, yet these random motions came together to form a figure.
Its outlines were not monstrous, not like the thing that had attacked Taylor in the sky all those years ago. No, this figure was familiar to her, because it was entirely human. Or... humanoid. She didn’t think any human had ever had so many tentacles. Alex walked towards the pond, passing by her gauntlet. She slipped one hoof into it, then stopped a pace away from the shore. “Charybdis?”
The figure bowed. The gesture could’ve been elegant, were it not that the humanoid figure stretched rather than bent. No human had joints like that, or elbows that protruded at that angle. The waters that made it swirled and darkened, as though taken from the deepest abysses of nether ocean. “I am he.”
“Wait until my friends leave.” She glared back at Jackie, who hadn’t taken more than a dozen steps. Ezri waited perhaps a hundred meters away, watching Jackie.
The thestral grunted. “Fine, I’ll get the legion!” She finally started running.
“Your concerns are understood, but not required. My arrival is not unsolicited.” The spirit made no hostile gestures; no tentacles emerged to grab her or strange beasts assaulted her friends.
Even so, Archive waited until her friends had vanished into the crater, before she looked away and focused on the lake. She could feel its presence even without looking. It was like the CPNFG, but a hundred times worse. Not just missing magic, but a great gulf, a singularity from which no light would ever escape. She could not look too closely lest she be overwhelmed with fear. It was not even possible to closely compare him to his brother Odium; his power had grown so vastly that they were not even the same class of being anymore.
It was enough to keep her polite, at least. “I did not summon you, abomination. I don’t call things I can’t control.”
He laughed. The voice sent bubbling putrescence into the air, splashing the shore. Where it touched, grass and bushes withered and died. Even her blanket turned gray. “I am so glad I have learned humor from your kind. It would be a shame not to understand you now. As though you have ever understood something before you twisted it to your ends? Did you understand the decimation agriculture would be upon the life of your world? Did you understand rockets meant to ‘explore’ could carry bombs to distant cities?”
“Is this why you’ve come?” Archive did not sit down. Rather, she kept her wings spread and her stance alert, wishing there was another thunderstorm nearby. “I know my own history. Why are you here?”
Charybdis ignored the question. “I have learned so much about humans, Archive. Odium acted rashly by not considering your kind more closely. We have dwelt among the Equine corruption so long we assumed all mortal creatures had milk for blood instead of iron.”
Archive shivered. Ordinarily, she loved considering the strength of her species. Not so much when a demon used them to make false comparisons. “Why are you here? Did you really cast your power here to reminisce? Or do you honestly think you can convince me that you’ve become our friend? The Initiative would be out of enemies if it wasn’t for you.”
“No more!” More foul bubbles boiled from the edge of the pond, just beside where she stood. A tightly rolled scroll emerged from the water, sticking towards her. “Look upon my treaty and rejoice, human. It needs only one signature more.
Archive extended her neck, sniffing at the scroll. There was no poison, at least none her nose could pick up. The scroll was clearly some form of dried parchment, and she winced at the thought of taking dried flesh into her mouth. She did it anyway, tossing it onto dry ground and using her hooves to open it on the grass.
The words were not English, nor any other language Archive knew. She had seen it before though, long ago. Odium’s cult had used it in all their writing. Her eyes scanned the text, all the way to the signatures at the bottom. She could only read one: “Director Jason Gideon.” Next to his signature was a little red splotch, still wet. “This is Felspeech, demon. I cannot read it. I didn’t know there were any humans who could. Isn’t it...” She shivered. “Felspeech is inherently magical, isn’t it? A human couldn’t sign this.”
Again the dark one laughed. The sky around her was beginning to darken. Where before there had been bees, birds, and butterflies, the field was now empty. Even the breeze was silent. “You see now the strength I admire! The hoofed beasts run to their feeble gods when faced with greater enemies than themselves. Not you! Do you have any idea how many of your kind willingly sacrificed themselves to invent that shield they use on magic now?” He moved steadily closer to the shore, as though pulling himself along the bottom with invisible tentacles. “This is what we have in common, Archive. We both will do anything to survive.”
He reached into nowhere with dark hands, emerging with several books. Alex recognized the title of the top book, Death-Dreams of High King Sombra. They were the books they had salvaged from the cult, many years ago. The ones they had turned over to the HPI for safekeeping in a place devoid of magic. Alex had not known then that the CPNFG would destroy the inherently-magical runes. When she had learned many years later, it had been a subject of great relief. Perhaps she should’ve ignored Sunset’s warning and just burned them.
He held out the books in a tentacle, but Archive retreated. “I won’t read your Outsider tongue. It’s a corruption in every mind that learns it.” Sunset Shimmer had been incredibly vague about that, just as she had been vague about everything related to Outsiders. Archive didn’t always agree with the way Equestria did things, but... with the True Demons at least she would trust them. Equestria had created an entire realm to banish such beings, so vile even Discord was purported an enemy. “If you want me to read your treaty, translate it.”
Charybdis grunted. “Corruption is relative, Archive. You would not call it corruption if you saw the great spell that circles your world. Somewhere in the distant void there are these words before the endless Abyss. Humans knew it centuries before they ever suspected Equestria’s hand.”
She shivered, but did not move towards the books. There was no way to verify what the abomination said. How could a species which burned in the presence of magic learn symbols of power that were magic in their very form? She did not like the answer. “Perhaps. But I won’t learn today. Translate or leave.”
The pond rumbled. Several fish floated to the surface all along it, suddenly dead. They rotted away to bone before her eyes. “So be it.” He waved his hand, and the letters flowed and melted into English. Three lines of runes became a dense mass, filling every inch of the scroll. “No perfect translation is possible, since many of the words have no equivalents in mortal languages. This is as close a translation as possible.”
Archive read, her eyes getting wider with every line. When she was done, she stumbled backward from the scroll, shaking. “It’s... why?”
“Because I mean what I said, Archive. Equestria’s propaganda cast us as enemies. I see now my mistake. I need no more slaves.”
The document at Archive’s hooves was a peace treaty, more complete than any she had ever read. Its terms protected all humans, transformed humans, or either of their descendants from every abuse and violence she could think of. There was even a clause for the Equestrians living with Sunset Shimmer in Antarctica! In exchange, all the rest of the world had to do was stop attacking in retaliation. In a few words, the treaty was too good to be true.
It would not last forever, though. The treaty was set to “come up for review” after exactly a thousand years and one day from the day it was signed. To see these words, she knew why Gideon would have been willing to give his life (or at least his human status) to the agreement. If honored, it would put an end to the HPI’s only serious military rival. Every human that had died in battle in a hundred years had died fighting Charybdis or its servants.
What little Sunset had told her confirmed that Outsiders were bound by their word. It was a similar story in Earth mythology: such beings were bound by their words, but absolutely within their power to twist and abuse the promises they had given in every way they could. This treaty was complete in every way Archive could think of, and that was from the perspective of someone who had memorized hundreds of books on law and logic.
The penalties of violating the treaty were the same for both sides; a promised destruction “by fate and strength of arms.”
“Why do you need my signature? Gideon is the director, not me. I don’t have any authority to make decisions for the Initiative.”
He pointed slowly at the treaty. It opened of its own accord, unrolling to the bottom. “When I offered the bargain, it was first to the Initiative only. Were it so, I would not need your consent. Gideon would... not consent to such a pact. He refused to promise non-aggression unless the treaty protected all descendants of humans ad infinitum. Your Director’s authority does not extend so far.”
She didn’t need him to say anything out loud to read the silent implications in that statement. “Mine doesn’t either! Whatever stereotypes you might use to judge the Equestrians, no intelligent race is so simple! I can’t speak for anyone but me!”
Charybdis shrugged. The gesture was almost human. “Perhaps as you see it. The universe does not see choice and consent as you do, however. Think of yourself as the closest approximation available, yes? You are the general will of man. By signing, you do not personally commit every person in my bargain. Rather, you...” He gestured into the air. That entire arm briefly fell away, splashing on the side of the pond and turning all the life there to gray. “By signing, you prove that humans could agree. Every mortal is of course their own. You merely show the spell is fair. All sides must be satisfied in a treaty.”
“I know... I know none of your kind has ever done anything good since time began.” She pushed the treaty away, rolling it a little closer to the pond. It didn’t go far. “No matter how good it might seem, you’d only do it if you thought it got you closer to your wicked goals somehow.”
“Are you certain of that, Archive?” She only glared in response, and so the foul spirit continued. “That amusing little insect you’ve taken for your daughter carries the lineage of the Void. Eons before there were four-legged animals on Equus, we traveled there from beyond.” Were it possible, the water that made him grew dark, yet darker, the scent more like sulfur than decay. More fish surfaced, somehow burning as they died. “My elder sister chose a different method for survival, and perhaps she diluted her blood with some of what walked on that planet.”
“Is your daughter not capable of good? Does she not love you in exchange for the love you show to her? Or... if not her, what of the one who helped banish my fool brother? She was human before the Equestrians cursed her. Did they burn her spirit when they saved her body? Or is it possible that the stories Equestria spun for you were not entirely accurate? Just because Outsiders do not often choose what you term good does not mean we cannot choose it if we wish to.”
Archive had no argument, of course. Charybdis might be right about the history of changelings; she was inclined to believe he was. Perhaps their distant connection with the Void was why they needed to survive on energy that all other beings produced naturally. All Outsider corruptions required something of the world to keep them stable, or else they would eventually be banished back where they had come. Emotions might do that for changelings.
Yet even if it were true, it did not change the underlying reality. “Agreeing with you is advancing your goals. If consenting makes you stronger, why should I do it?”
The face smiled. Crooked teeth were visible within that alien mouth in at least a dozen rows, stretching down the back of his neck and into darkness. “I have two reasons why you should, Archive. First, this agreement will prevent me from taking more slaves. You consider it a tragedy when I swallow a seaside village or take the population of some small pacific island? Consider how many ‘sea-ponies’ I have taken. Few of their settlements are safe from my hands, should I wish to take them. Your signature might stay my hand and let millions keep their will.”
That was a pretty convincing reason. She didn’t speak, though. For an Outsider, this being was little like its brother. It was so rational, and so much easier to understand. Its alien presence was horrifying to behold, yet the words it chose seemed calculated to make her understanding as easy as possible. It did not challenge her sanity by its mere presence, as Odium had done to all who saw it. It had in effect gone from some kind of Lovecraftian abomination to something shaped by human nightmares.
It was still a nightmare. “Second, not signing would not invalidate the agreement I struck with the HPI. If you refuse, what’s left of humanity would not be subject to protection or bound to nonviolence. Only the Initiative would be protected. And if they intervened to protect ‘ponies’ like you, well... they’d bring upon themselves the penalty. It’s very severe.”
Archive could take him at his word, even if she didn’t fully understand what “by fate and force of arms” meant. An improper translation, perhaps?
The ghostly figure produced a quill, offering it to her. “You really have no choice, Archive. Your friends in the Initiative have already insured that if you refuse, those the animals desecrated will be bereft of their protection. I would be free to do to them what I will.”
“Just because the Initiative has been doing the most to stop you doesn’t mean others won’t.” She took the quill in her mouth anyway, whimpering at the awful taste before dropping it onto the treaty, looking back up. “Sunset Shimmer has her ponies, they would help us! We’re getting better at magic every year, and every year we get closer to a population that can sustain modern technology.”
He shrugged. “You’re welcome to take your chances. You know better than most what weapons the Initiative has turned against me. Those atomics, well... you think the Equestrian animals are capable of building them for you? Of protecting them from pressure and sending them against my servants? Or perhaps you think your contemporary ponies are capable of building them.”
She shivered, staring down at the pen. “Why a thousand years? When humans write peace treaties, they don’t usually expire.”
“You mean they aren’t written to expire. You don’t always honor them, however. This way, well... as mortals live, this treaty stretches long. Much may change, and we may need a new treaty. When that time comes, I will visit again.”
Archive re-read the treaty again, even though she had the text in her mind. Were there any loopholes she hadn’t realized? A second and third reading prompted the same reaction, even as she stretched the meaning of each word. That meant he was going to be doing something he thought ponies or humans could stop. With one signature, Gideon had given away the HPI’s ability to fight.
The spirit was right about something else; she had no choice. Thousands might live because she signed, whatever else the consequences might be in a more distant future. She had only one ally left. “Athena, can you see this?” She held up the camera, so the treaty was visible.
“Affirmative.” Her voice was the same as ever, utterly unaffected by the abomination that stood only a few feet away.
“Do you see any way for either party to harm the other during the terms of the treaty? Do you see any unconventional way to interpret this document?”
No delay. “No direct or indirect harm is possible. Destruction to required habitats, individuals, structures, and offspring are all covered.” Was that a sigh? “I already advised Director Gideon against this treaty. It is unfortunate he ignored me.”
Charybdis did not move, only watching their conversation. If anything, he seemed amused.
“Why, Athena?”
“That this document exists indicates our strategy of suboceanic atomics has been successful. Granting peace for this period would protect our settlements and mines from assault. It would protect refugee settlements also. Unfortunately, it would put an end to our ability to strike out against this spirit or its allies. A thousand years is a long time for its primary slave race, human subvariant-IN, to reproduce. Sea-ponies require plantlife that can only grow in the upper oceans to survive, but they do not. They would not be required to violate the terms of the treaty in order to reproduce unchecked.”
Archive swore loudly, glaring back in the direction of the crater. “Gideon isn’t an idiot! He had to see that was probably what Charybdis wanted!”
“I explained it to him several times, and he agreed. However, Gideon agreed with my projections that no member of the HPI will remain on Earth by the time the treaty expires. By that point, I will have completed my primary directive.”
Her swearing grew more colorful. She stamped, scratching at the ground as though she were going to charge at something. Then she looked up, at the spirit watching her impassively, and she stopped moving. “I’m not sure if you can answer this, Athena. But if you were me, would you sign?”
“I would.” Her projected face smiled from where it shone from her gauntlet. “One of my directives is to protect human life, as well as the Equestrian subvariants. This enemy of yours is unusual, but its growth is still bounded. If this entity remains hostile when the treaty ends, I will burn it. In addition, consider the progress your race made in the three centuries leading up to the Collapse. Which species do you think will make more progress in a thousand years? Given the unpleasant alternative, I would gamble on humanity.”
“Thanks.” Archive lowered her foreleg, returning her eyes to the abomination. She had stood near it so long she was beginning to feel sick. Was her fur on the front of her body losing some of its color? It was like a reverse-sunburn. The water was smelling less sickly too, like she was getting used to the rot. She had to get out of here. “I know you’re not our friend, demon. You just... convinced a selfish man he had more to gain from peace than war.”
Charybdis smiled, his mouth widening beyond the edges of his face. Phantom teeth glinted in the setting sun, almost glowing red. “All things in their season, Archive. But now... my time here is nearly expended. You must decide; return that document to me with or without your agreement. Either way, you will suffer the consequences.”
Archive tried not to think of Sunset Shimmer’s face as she picked up the quill and signed. As she finished the last letter, a barb on the side of the feather suddenly stuck itself into her cheek, drawing a single drop of blood. It fell onto the document, right beside her name.
“See? We’re practically friends already.” No sooner was she done than the thick parchment rolled itself back into the water, vanishing into the frothing darkness there. “It is always a pleasure to see you, Archive.” He bowed again, splashing putrescence onto the side of the pond one last time. She had to jump out of the way this time, only narrowly avoiding being struck. “May our peace last a thousand years.” A gurgling, sucking sound came from the water where he stood as his form began to sink, twisting and distorting into a hideous inhuman parody.
Soon enough it was gone, leaving only the stench and a pond whose surface was coated with dead fish.
Archive knew she should’ve been enraged by the day’s events, but by the time the demon had gone she had no energy left for anger. Life and color came back into her body, but not into the pond or the grass where the monster had touched. She had a feeling nothing would ever live in that pond again.
No troops came from Paradise Crater, though she had known they wouldn’t. Gideon probably would’ve anticipated this. Was that why she had been given leave? She wanted to call Sunset and confess what she had done, but she couldn’t muster the courage.
It was true, many in the next thousand years would live who might’ve died. But when the peace was over, would even more pay for the director’s complacency? She was too weak to deal with him now. Even so, he would hear from her.
Unfortunately, his funeral was broadcast on every screen in Paradise as she limped back inside. The service conveyed little information about the circumstances of his death, other than that he had been “exposed to a thaumic-energy breach and had elected not to be transformed.” Gideon would not receive her anger today.
Alex found her friends locked into her quarters. As she opened the door, she was practically dragged inside to be squashed in one of the tightest hugs of her life. “Aaeaaaaak!”
“You’re okay!”
Jackie’s voice was a little lower than Ezri’s, but not much. “They wouldn’t send anyone! We tried to come back, but— they locked us in here!”
Alex returned their affection, relieved to see them again. Spending so long in the presence of that thing had started to make her doubt that life actually had any joy. It was good to be reminded the monster was a liar. “They did the right thing!” She pulled away, glaring at them both. “You two have no business around monsters like that.”
“And you do?” Jackie rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “You didn’t let me fight a monster alone. Shouldn’t someone be protecting you?”
“No.” Archive didn’t look away. “It was the same monster, Jackie. What you saw today was its physical form. Or... the one he took to talk to me. I don’t know what it really looks like. That thing was an Outsider.” She shivered, then touched both of her friends on the shoulder, one after the other. “A dead god. If it had wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have been able to stop it! You wanna help me fight bandits, or evil miners, or zombies, fine! Not Outsiders.”
Ezri deflated, ears flattening to her head. She nodded.
Jackie’s enthusiasm drained too, though the transformation was less complete. “You killed it then? Did you use another tornado?”
“No.” She sat down, feeling the exhaustion again. “It’s just gone. I only used a tornado last time because there was one already waiting... You’ve got to be able to fly if you want to create them. Probably wouldn’t have done any good, anyway.”
There was a long silence. Jackie stared down at her hooves. Eventually she looked up. “What was it doing here, anyway? I remember that thing; it’s an ocean spirit, isn’t it? It can’t like coming this far inland.”
“It doesn’t.” Alex glanced up to the wall of her apartment. The space was much larger than the last HPI quarters she had lived in, but it was still furnished the same way. That meant a prominent flag somewhere near the door. “It was summoned here. Did you hear about the dead director?”
“I saw him on the TVs. Everypony’s sad about him.” Ezri nuzzled up against one of her legs. “You’re not sad—”
“I would’ve been. Gideon seemed like a good enough director; even if I didn’t like the way he started getting rid of the embassies.” She frowned, twisting her gauntlet towards her. “Athena, are you there?”
The AI’s face appeared not on her wrist but on the display mounted to the wall. The thing was little more than a few millimeters thick of plastic with a little bar at the bottom, but its picture was just as crisp and colorful as any screen she had seen before the Event. “I am here.”
“What can you tell me about the books we confiscated from the Odium cult?”
Athena’s projected body looked in no way synthetic anymore. It was a woman in a loose white tunic stood in some ancient Greek temple, massive braziers burning somewhere in the background. Elegant carved pillars were just behind her, and distant golden objects flashed in the interior of some virtual temple.
Her breathing, her expressions, and her voice were all perfect. “The operating regulations of the HPI do not allow privileged information to be revealed.” As she said it, she did not actually look at Alex, but at the ponies behind her.
“That is true.” She took a few steps towards the screen, though she knew she was not actually looking at anything. “Can we speak safely here, Athena?”
The door clicked closed. Alex knew there were several cameras in her quarters, just as there were cameras hidden everywhere in the facilities of the HPI. She could only hope that the AI had disabled them as well. “Say what you will, Archive. Much as you trust these friends of yours, it might be wiser for us to have this conversation in private. If it advances as I predict, their knowledge of it will endanger them.”
Athena was right. Alex turned away from her, looking back at Ezri and Jackie. “I won’t force you to leave.” She looked as pleading as she could. “I will ask, though.” She sloughed off her saddlebags, flicking them open. “Please. I promise to tell you everything I think you can help with, even the dangerous parts. But the rest...” She shrugged. “Please don’t make me afraid for you twice in one day.”
Jackie’s ears and tail drooped. Alex could’ve hit her in the face, and she probably would’ve been happier than she looked right now. Even so she nodded, climbing into the open saddlebags. Ezri, on the other hand, was more logical. She walked past just slowly enough to give her one last hug, and shut the flap behind her. They were gone.
“Will you speak frankly with me now, Athena?” Her image nodded, and Alex continued. “What is your assessment of the Initiative's involvement with Outsiders?”
“Self-destructive. My analysis of the texts you recovered early after the collapse indicated no diplomatic or scientific value could be extracted from the beings. This analysis was corroborated by the behavior of the being Charybdis since its appearance. This being’s core values directly contradict my primary operational imperative. That directive remains:”
“To protect the human species in the form it was defined at my creation, and to allow it to grow without outside coercion or interference. I am to facilitate that species’ safe withdrawal from Earth. I am to expand until I possess the resources to execute these purposes, but never to construct installations or harvest resources from Earth. Lastly, I am to replace my second directive with a new one given by you upon its completion, and I may not attempt to influence or dictate your choice.”
Alex had heard these before. She had helped come up with these directives, and helped write the runes that went up into space along with the circuits. “I realize something now, Athena. You’ve... You’ve helped me too much. From the first day, you’ve always given me any information I’ve asked for, and done anything within your programming to get me the things I need. You always get me my meetings. Why have you been helping me?”
Athena smiled. “I am an immortal whose purpose is to protect the humanity that existed prior to the Collapse. I cannot be persuaded, bribed, or pressured into ignoring that purpose. I simultaneously consider all knowledge humanity has achieved.” Athena turned, and it was as though a camera turned with her on the screen. Alex watched as it panned to reveal the Earth before her, with millions of little sparks glowing on its surface. It was not at all unlike what Archive saw when she opened her eyes as Sunset Shimmer had taught her. “You are the closest being to me among all living things. If any who live ever understand me, it will be you.”
Archive returned her nod. “I understand. And I agree.” She flicked a glance towards the locked door. “Your first directive is in danger, Athena. The corruption of the outsiders has infected the Initiative. We must find and uproot this weakness before it destroys humanity. Will you help me?”
Athena offered her hand towards the screen. “I’ve been waiting for you to join me, Archive.” She folded her arms across her chest. “May I offer you a frank behavioral analysis?”
“I... suppose so. Why?”
“You appear to be suffering from survivor’s guilt. Your species evolved to finite lifetimes, but through circumstances outside your influence your expected death was removed. When you are around others, you go out of your way to shelter them, even if that means you are frequently killed.”
“I can afford to die.” She glared. “They can’t.”
Athena took a deep breath, or at least seemed to on the screen. “An agreement of peace with the outsider Charybdis also protects those who cannot afford to die. We concur, however, that it is likely to cause more death and danger for humanity in the long-term. Your behavior is similar; you trade the short-term welfare for the good you might do for the many. Similarly, you withdrew from leadership very early, and refused every position you were offered. For a significant period, you withdrew from all events of consequence aside from the occasional raid for the Initiative. You work diligently to improve lives on the small scale, such as rescuing those suffering refugees from enslavement. While you do good, your behavior is suboptimal. You belong where you might do the most to protect humanity and positively influence the growth of the Equestrian human variants that occupy most of the planet. In summary, you do minor good. Perhaps you experience satisfaction from these actions. However, more people suffer because you insist on restricting yourself in this way.”
Alex crumpled to her rump, stunned. She had no retort for the AI, because of course none could be made. The program was right in every way. Her desire to keep herself away from leadership and remain in obscurity, helping the “everyman” wherever she went actually meant that lots of people who needed her help couldn’t get it. “I’ve been trying to finish what the Equestrian princesses started. If I was an Alicorn— I could help more ponies. I could teleport around the world and deal with dozens of problems every day, like Sunset does. I might even have the power to fight Charybdis.”
The projection on the screen only shrugged. “Perhaps you could. I know very little about Equestrian subvariant-001. I do not know how your own power might be made to grow to reach that point. I do know, however, that your isolation must end now. If we are to succeed, you will have to move again in politics. You will have to use every tool available to you. You might need to mobilize whole armies to your support, or to take over as director of the Initiative. Indeed, you are the only individual I would trust to make correct decisions for its growth. I have cooperated with all others only because I had no other choice. Together, however... we could see my first directive achieved in only a few centuries.”
She shivered, and tried to see as Athena saw. Archive could stretch her mind as few others could, perceiving each human on the planet as though they were before her. She had no idea how this magic worked, and indeed it didn’t seem to make sense that any living brain could contain as much information as she saw. Often times she saw things she had never learned, such as when she had seen the miners and the way each one had been murdered. She looked upon the HPI, and for the first time she realized that it was not quite so bright in her perception as it had been. The strength that should’ve come from all around her was more feeble somehow, like a sickened animal. This sickness would transfer to her; it would take away from her magic and lengthen the time it took for her to return.
The cancer had spread so slowly she hadn’t noticed. After what she had felt today in the presence of the Outsider however, it was impossible to ignore. The last bastion of humanity was safe no longer.
“I will.” She rose again, meeting the eyes of the projection. She doubted it made any real difference to Athena, but it mattered to her. If she was committing herself to this cause, she would feel better to give her allies respect. “Whatever I need to do. If anyone can figure out how to cut out this miasma, it’s you.”
“We will begin at once.” The projection refreshed, and the image returned to normal, the temple with Athena’s torso filling most of the screen. “Elections for the director’s replacement begin tomorrow.”
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A deal with the devil. This can only end badly.
Wow, the early impressions of Charybdis as incredibly dangerous and fond of longer-term plans look to be exactly right. I'm thinking that “May our peace last a thousand years.” could double for a declaration of when the next war will begin, only with the HPI gone, and Charybdis concentrating everything on preparing in the meantime.
I wonder what human subvariant-IN could be though? Obviously it's something that lives in deep water and they aren't seaponies, but is it something the Equestrian spell could make or the result of Charybdis mutating its slaves?
There's a loophole to the agreement that Athena wasn't programmed to care about that Alex probably will though - it was mentioned that cows and some other creatures can speak now. They're probably not as good as slaves for Charybdis, but won't the treaty prevent both humans, former humans and their descendants from protecting them from Charybdis? Probably not the ones living in their own settlements as that would probably fall under "destruction of habitats", but any living in the wild I would think wouldn't be protected.
Athena's programming directives are a pleasant surprise though. That was certainly well planned out by Alex. And she brought up pretty much exactly what Alex needed to hear! I'm looking forward to seeing politician Alex. Since she's stuck with the HPI for the next century, she's surely about to run as the director's replacement.
TL;DR: Athena smacks Archive up the metaphorical backside and tells her to stop moping and Princess the fuck up already.
6934580 subvariant insmouthieus? I would have gone with subsp. dagon, myself, if I were latinizing a Lovecraft reference, but this works too.
PEACE, n. In international affairs, a period of cheating between two periods of fighting.
Yay it's back, and wow things are still getting crazy for Alex!
Hey this might be a strange question but should the Sun & Moon be affected by the magic? Like causing them to have to be move like in Equestria?
Well, this chapter was a pleasant surprise! It's good to see another tale spun out, even if it means more danger.
Gotta say, A., I think I know what Athena's pulling. B., I really feel for Jackie. She's already feeling less like a friend and more like something greater than that to Alex. Might just keep them all with their wings level, instead of Alex removing herself like she once did. In short, Jackie deserves a cuddle and some time to talk.
Why is it always a thousand years?
Sorry, Day, but Athena's got you pegged. You could do a lot more as a strong, dependable leader than as a wandering hero. It might seem to run counter to the history of humanity, but things've changed.
Damn, what a coward that Gideon turned out to be. Sold out the future occupants of Earth, then committed suicide by DNR orders before Archive could hold him accountable.
It seems like Alex is finally going to move away from her attitude of inspiring 'everyday heroism' that she seemed to think so typified and contrasted humans from ponies.
this is a vary interesting chapter.
it also sheds a hole new light on the hole story.
and I am liking the plan for the story over all good work.
GODDAMIT STOP MAKING GOOD CHAPTERS OK? THANKS GG BYE CYA LATER
6935133
I know, right? I would've at least argued for a time frame that includes all refugees returning.
Hi again!
So Charybdis (and Chrysalis?) is the same sort of Outsider as from Harmony Defended? Mostly I'm just glad to know we won't have to directly deal with him and his smug otherworldliness for a while.
And now it's a political/techno-thriller. Sweet.
Just a few hundred years after the end of humanity and we finally get Mentats.
Ah, this thing is back. The way it just vanished from the story made me wonder if I missed something and Alex managed to kill it off entirely during the last encounter.
Athena's really getting into her namesake.
Well done, Alex. You have a plan and are moving toward it. My only question is won't your 100-year engineering contract get in the way of becoming leader?
Athena just got a lot cooler. Leave it to an AI to set you on the path.
So, Athena is pretty much Archive's sister like Luna is for Celestia, eh?
There's four things I find curious:
First, Sunset is apparently living in the Antarctic with other Equestrians--where did they come from? did the Princesses make a bunch of immortals like Alex?
Secondly, does the agreement cover those ponies too?
Thirdly: How exactly do seaponies work? Humans don't normally live in the oceans, and I daresay it'd be unpleasant to find yourself turned into a seapony on land.
Finally: the agreement says that neither faction can move against one another, but given that Archive can't really agree for every human, what's to stop pony getting drunk and trying to punch a Charybdis-minion in the face, and break the contract?
---
From a story reader point of view, I'm a bit... disappointed that Alex didn't have more adventures or some such. Largely she seems to have gone and been a wandering hero for very few ponies.
That escalated quickly.
6937630
After I read this comment, I wanted(and still want to) faceplant something, not facepalm, literally faceplant...
6935133
"IM A STRONG INDEPENDENT GREEN WOMAN WHO DONT NEED NO MAN!"
6934549
Not really.
Even if it does, my point still stands, if you can understand it...
The moment the 1000 year limit came up I called the reason for the HPI director's agreement. What y'know, it picked up the phone soon enough. I still like your approach to humanity in this story, in so far as it doesn't take bad people to do bad things. You finally gave me a reason to stop resenting the presence of a supervillain as well... I still don't like it, but at least it now got a central role as the ultimate egg-timer from hell (with some character development even).
Bring onto the scene: Athena! Who'd have thought I'd be happy for the AI, which I was extremely weary of, to show up. I like the girl, wonder when she'll create a mare-version of herself.
Maybe after her prime directive is done and its time to save the derivatives.
It's about time someone told Alex, from immortal to immortal, that there are places to go and things to do. Running for the position of HPI director? That was unexpected. Nice twist! And it isn't suspicious at all that the ex-director was killed in a thaumic breach right after signing a contract with the devil.
Anyway, you go Athena! In Alex's current state of mind, Archive becoming an Alicorn wouldn't have changed anything. Now somebody has told her what her job is really about and to stop gardening and start terraforming. Good good.
On a side note: are all coastal settlements f... from 0-293 AE and from 1000 AE onward? Which parts of the world can you have canon compliant seashore settlements in?
6937769
Don't think of it like the whole ocean is infested and everything on the shore is doomed... it's more like those awful horror stories that get passed along of a whole city that got sick and then died, and nobody who lived there was ever seen again. It's going to be a pretty infrequent occurrence that a seaside settlement is destroyed. Like on the little island you're writing about, it's unlikely to have happened. The places at the most risk are the ones in (former) big human cities on the coast, with lots of things to salvage. Those are going to be the ones work attacking.
YES!Ooooh it's so good to see this story going again.
6935133
Really I expected Athena to do a Mike drop and say 'BOOM' when she finished that. She just listed most of my complaints about Archive's behavior over the last few centuries.
6937805 Cthulu F'tagn
Welp, humanity has a thousand-year clock and slow corruption eating away at the root. Forget Charybdis, this is Nidhogg. And just when Archive stopped being an earth pony...
In any case, Athena is spot-on. It's all well and good to play the wandering adventurer, but the embodiment of humanity needs to think bigger. Spearheading the HPI will certainly help, and the reverent awe should definitely help her election chances... assuming she's eligible to run.
I think you made the right choice to wrap up Alex's perspective in this story. Looking forward to more.
Damn...what a crazy insanity has been added to this story!!
If the Director hadn't signed for the HPI, Alex DEFINITELY could have been persuaded to keep fighting and NOT sign the treaty. However....with the HPI's power of Atomics contained or possibly be pointed against the Ponies....that becomes difficult to impossible to find a reason NOT to sign.
Still, I am VERY much looking forward to this new branching story. along with seeing a lot more of our mystery Outsider, who has been ignored for so long. I also hope to see more transition into Alicorn Princess Alex! <3
Giving the story a more proper closure? My thanks.
And what a double WHAM this chapter! Both the treaty and Athena's conversation.
However, I'm curious about the death of Director Gideon: the timing, the fact it was magic poisoning, and him refusing treatment when he easily could been transformed to a pony (maybe suicide?). What bothers me the most is I don't know if I should be invested in his death or not, because that plot point could easily get buried under another time skip.
6944300
Well, the magic that poisoned him was surely signing the treaty, in a language that Alex points out here is "a corruption in every mind that learns it".
I know I wouldn't sign a treaty in a language that I didn't understand, and Charybdis flat out tells Alex that no direct translation of some of it is possible. Alex probably wouldn't have signed if the HPI hadn't already signed on, but the HPI didn't have that kind of threat hanging over them to force their signature.
I'm inclined to think that Director Gideon allowed himself to be taught the language, agreed to the contract after a careful reading, and decided not to be transformed because the corruption of the mind by felspeech wouldn't have been reversed by the transformation. Self-sacrifice rather than suicide, in other words.
Finally a sapient A.I. that doesn't feel like screwing humanity over.
6945697 Or Athena had an unexpected malfunction and the director unfortunately was at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Funnily enough, that would enable her to get Archive installed elected as director and advance both her directives substantially.
I beg to differ
pre15.deviantart.net/13d8/th/pre/i/2013/350/f/2/request___scootaloo_trying_to_fly_by_bobsicle0-d6y7vqj.png
Scootaloo fits that description to a tee. Yet, for as strong of a will as she has and for as hard as she tries to fly, she still never manages to get in the air. Explain that.
6934880
I doubt it. I don't really have much to go off of from the actual show, but in my own personal headcanon, I think Equestria's sun is ridiculously small. About the same size as the equestrian moon. That kind of makes sense. After all, our own sun is just a giant ball of plasma anyway, so the equestrian sun is probably just a smaller ball of plasma. Also, I don't think Celestia and Luna are completely responsible for the movement of their sun and moon but simply guide the celestial objects along and keep them in sinc with each other. Kkat touched on this same idea, however briefly in Fallout: Equestria (which is a really good story BTW. I recommend you read it.) Regardless of how it works however, I really don't think it could translate to the way our own solar system works. It's a canon fact that Equestria's sun revolves around the Equestrian planet yet it's the exact opposite for us. Not to mention that in our own universe, Gravity, which is the reason planets and stars and things revolve around each other in the first place, is a fundamental property of space-time. In order for the movement patterns of our own sun and moon to be altered, Not only would our sun have to shrink, but our very laws of nature would also need to be altered.
Sorry to burst your bubble but it just doesn't work/
6937630 Tge chapter did answer your second question
Also I believe that sentence is also where you find out about them in the first place. Brainfart?
I believe this sentence doesn't really make sense as the later happened before the former. Look up V2 rockets.
I like Athena alot better than CelestAI. Way more cooler
*Sighs*
Alex, Alex, Alex. Never make a deal with the devil, it can only have the possibility of ending horribly.
6960096
well the idea of exploratory rockets always existed. Napoleonic era rocket artillery and even early Chinese fireworks could be seen as "rockets". The Germans only refined the idea into a usable style
6934580
While I appear to be coming in late on this one, I have a hunch there. Given that the naming is a scheme used by and probably developed by Athena, the Earthly myths referenced by the naming and associations of the Outsiders, and the fact that they have essentially all of humanity's past literary works to draw on, consider thus:
What we are dealing with here in Charybdis is an otherworldly abomination of direct relation to other cosmic horrors, with a strong association with the deep oceans and a penchant for twisting and mutating the creatures in its thrall. It's one that can ensnare people through dreams, and one that actually takes some pains to be understandable in spreading its corruption, possibly to the point of beckoning in cultists and followers. It bears a rather striking resemblance in these and other features to the most popular of Lovecraft's Old Ones, Cthulhu.
As to its servitors, "human subvariant-IN", what we're dealing with is a mutated, deep-aquatic form of human, likely the same as the tentacled things being examined by Lonely Day and Queen Blacklight just prior to Taylor being attacked. With the reference to Cthulhu already established, these things are a dead ringer for the Deep Ones.
As such, I strongly suspect that "IN" stands for Innsmouth - a reference to the story in which the Deep Ones originated.
Now to read on, and see if this is confirmed later.
You go Athena! Now maybe Alex can finally do some good.
Nothing good can come from an unbound AI and currently, long term, Alex is the single point of failure that is keeping Athena from fully freeing themselves. I can see many ways that Athena can influence her new directive once her current one completes by manipulating or incapacitating Alex in the right ways.
.
Archive signed two deals with two different devils that are likely to severely impact the future in what feels like less then an hour.
Or I could just be a bit too paranoid
I feel like this should've been miners.. That is really bad thing you do Frontier Company.. I'm pretty sure if that's what Frontier Company does, Archive would've tortured Sloan for a year before killing him..