Soul Survivor (the first season)

by JC Borch

Chapter 4: A Show Of Power

It’s the big today, the day where I finally get to enter that facility I saw not long ago. With the technology down there I hope to find a way home. Crossing space is one thing however and I am not sure the teleportation technique of my world could cross the boundaries between dimensions. I’m still wondering how I got here but I don’t think that’ll be important in the long run. Of course, all this will only be possible if I can beat Loyal Crescent’s lieutenant, the mute zebra Karrod, in a duel. Should be doable if Granny Pie came through with her little trick.

CHAPTER 4 PART 1: THE DUEL

Lars followed behind Granny Pie under the arch and a plaza unfolded before them. He had seen a few of them in Equestria by this point, some acting as markets, others with statues, but this one was circled by wooden benches like an old stadium. The space within was elliptical and unpaved, instead with stamped earth.

“I get the feeling we’re not in Canterlot anymore,” Lars said as his bare feet crossed into the smooth ground, like thousands of hooves had stamped the grass away and pounded the dirt flat.

“We’re not,” she replied and nodded towards the castle behind them. “This is an old arena just outside, but still a part of the castle grounds. It’s used for events like concerts and sports.”

“Impressive.” He smiled nervously and waved up at the cheering crowd. The benches were packed, and not just with unicorns. Many from the other races had gathered as well, waving little flags and hooting into horns. “Did you take care of that thing?”

She nodded. “I did.”

Her horn glowed in an attempt to settle Lars’ dirty blonde hair. It had other opinions however and sprang right back to its unruly state.

“It’s always been out of my control,” he said with a laugh and glided a hand through it, when he saw Karrod already standing in the middle of the open space. “I’d better get going, Mrs Pie. I think it’s about to start soon”

He rubbed his hand affectionately down Granny Pie’s light pink hair. “You be careful out there, dearie. I’m not bringing you by the hospital again.”

Lars nodded and took a deep breath. Loyal Crescent was there as well, talking in hushed voices to his lieutenant. He was dressed in complete captain attire including ceremonial helmet with the fluffy crest.

“You bumbling fool!” he said loudly enough for Lars to hear over the cheering, but Karrod remained impassive. “Did you spend all night with that strumpet again? What do you call her? Oh wait, you don’t call her anything! I swear, if you lose this battle I’ll–”

“Nice day for a duel, eh?” Lars called out and shielded his eyes from the sun.

“You had something to do with this, don’t you?” Crescent said and jabbed him in the stomach. “It won’t help you any. Even on his worst day Karrod is better than you.”

“That remains to be seen, doesn’t it?” Lars taunted with a self-satisfied smile.

Crescent snorted and turned around. “Don’t muck this up. I’m warning you,” he whispered to Karrod before continuing towards a tower on the right.

Karrod smiled up at Lars, though it looked like he had spent the whole night up with bags under his eyes. His black mane was fuzzy and his gilded armour hastily equipped. He nodded as a gesture and Lars nodded back.

“Fillies and gentlecolts,” Crescent said. He had appeared again at the top of the tower, his voice booming out from the commentator’s box. The crowd burst into a loud roar that went on for a few moments. Clearing his throat, Crescent continued.

“It is with great honour that I will introduce the first championship duel in over four hundred years. The rules are simple: the first to draw blood wins. Killing your opponent is forbidden. Hurting your opponent unnecessarily, also forbidden. If the contestants agree to abide by these rules, raise your weapon into the air. Should you not have a weapon already, then one will be provided for you.”

Lars unsheathed the claymore from the back and lifted it into the air with both hands. Karrod bit into his scabbard and procured what looked like a sickle with an ornately carved hilt and a spiky blade. He reared up into his hind legs to get the weapon up into the air and quickly fell back again. Lars took it as his cue to rest the tip of his own sword on the ground as well. His claymore was large and heavy, and his muscles bulged visibly through the fabric of his purple one-piece.

“If opposing contestant Lars Leland should win, he will be bestowed the title of Celestia’s Champion. In war and in peace he must stand by her side and follow her command unquestioningly, serving as her bodyguard with undeniable faith and fealty. If opposing contestant Lars Leland loses, he will be barred from trying again.”

“What?” Lars burst out and looked up at the tower. His voice drowned out in the chatter of the crowd and Crescent’s booming voice. “This is my only chance?!”

As if he heard him, Loyal Crescent’s eyes then wondered down towards him. “This duel is a serious one and should only ever be attempted by those who have made a conscious and well-thought decision. If the opposing contestant isn’t prepared for this, then forfeit now. Otherwise cross your blades, fighters.”

Lars lifted his sword again and put it dangerously close to Karrod’s face to cross their blades. This was his first time interacting with that pony but Lars did not feel nervous around him. There was an air of humility around Karrod unfound in his superior.

“Take a step back, and whenever you are ready, fight.”

They did as instructed and the two fighters sized each other up, trying to find a weakness in the opponent’s stance. Lars had to swallow a lump as he adjusted the grip on his sword.

“You can win this fight!” a voice said in his ears. “I’ve fought dragons and intergalactic planet eaters, a lowly zebra should be nothing.”

Karrod still had the sickle in his mouth when he leapt into the air. Lars parried it clumsily and took a step back from the force. He tried to counter with a horizontal slash but Karrod vaulted back, leaving Lars stumbling from the weight of the swing. Laughter erupted among the audience and the zebra went in for another attack. The slash cut him across the abdomen. He could feel it even through the fabric and winced from the pain.

“You can’t win this fight, boy! What the Hell are you pulling ignoring me like that? Allow me to take your hands now, dammit,” Greenhately shrieked into his ears.

But Lars didn’t heed the voice and attempted a stabbing motion. Karrod sidestepped and wrapped a hoof around the sickle. The blunt side banged into his side and made Lars reel from the force.

“Are you defying me because it feels like you’re cheating? Well you’re not. You have a sword! Use it for God’s sake, man!”

The claymore pounded into the dirt where Karrod had just been. He leapt over Lars and kicked him in the back before landing. Lars blundered forward and the sword slipped from his hands.

“And now you dropped it. Beautiful. Well I can see things are going fine for you, so I won’t interrupt the fight at all.”

“Shut up!” Lars exclaimed and picked the sword up again. “I won’t deserve the title if I can’t do this on my own. I’ll use what you taught me yesterday.”

“None of that will matter if you don’t use me!”

Karrod was an experienced duellist with his little sickle. Never once uttering a single word, his heavy armoured frame danced across the ground. Lars could only do so much to deflect the attacks. His blade was big and shielded him. Whenever an attack did land on him, it couldn’t go through his suit. Karrod quickly discovered that fact and moved towards Lars’ hands and face.

“Listen, you have potential and I’ll grant you that. But three days of training isn’t going to unlock it!” Greenhately said into his ears. “I can unlock that potential.”

“Thanks, but I’ll take my chance.”

Lars was being pushed back across the ground, trying hard not to get cut across his exposed skin. His sword could not connect with Karrod. He always stepped out of the way or leapt back and then pressed his own attack. The barrage rained over Lars and he could feel his stamina draining. Karrod was better trained for this. Lars was strong despite his size but endurance was not his forte. One last blow from the zebra hit him in the abdomen and he finally gave out. Lars landed on his back, the claymore flying from his hands.

“You are a fool to sacrifice your dreams for principles.”

A shadow fell on his face. Karrod had a mournful expression on his face as he raised his right hoof into the air. The crowd went wild. Lars closed his eyes.

“Give me... your power,” Lars muttered imperceptibly. Without another word, his bruises stopped aching and energy returned to his limbs. Not just what he had lost, but twice over was gained. He leapt out of the way and landed next to his claymore just as the sickle bore into the ground. A serene smile creased Karrod’s lips and the two combatants resumed the fight.

“Hyaa!” Lars screamed and drove his sword hard at Karrod. The zebra had amazing strength himself and blocked at the attack. He dug his hooves into the ground, but was pressed backwards and dug deep trenches into the ground. He redirected the claymore, but Lars quickly regained his posture and swung around.

The fighters were looking at each other again like the first time two strangers meet. The claymore fell into a horizontal line out from Lars’ abdomen. His breathing was controlled unlike Karrod’s. The zebra’s coat was dark with sweat and his mane tangled from the exertion. Even the crowd became silent as two fates were about to be decided.

Lars swung the claymore behind him and charged. Karrod bit into his sickle and galloped. The blades met in a thundering crash. The stadium shook and frightened screams broke out among the audience. Sparks flashed and crackled like thunder. The fighters were engulfed in the heat from two opposing forces, the friction increasing.

And at last, the moment they had waited on. When one fighter was decided to be weaker. When the stronger one broke free and claimed the victory for himself.

Karrod tripped forward a few steps, as did Lars. Both weapons fell from their hands. The human’s purple suit was frayed from the battle in a long gash across his abdomen. But it had held. Karrod’s golden armour, on the other hoof, suffered from a deep crack. The guard uniform splintered open and blood trickled from the shallow wound across his back.

“The duel is over!” Crescent’s voice exploded. The audience was confused for a moment. They peeked through the hoofs covering their faces. They saw the result and went wild again.

“Congratulations, Lars.” Karrod turned towards him with a smile. Lars faced him as well and sank to his knees.

“You must have hit me worse than I thought. I could swear I just heard you speak.”

“Pretending to be deaf and dumb makes it easier to work with Crescent Heartstrings,” Karrod chuckled and offered his body for support. Lars declined and got up with some difficulty. “I know you can keep a secret.”

Lars lifted his head up at the audience but his face was not one of joy. He quickly looked away from them again and stared down at the white claymore next to him. “I’m sorry, Karrod. I knew I couldn’t win this duel so I... I cheated.”

“Ah, don’t worry about that. It’s my own fault for having such a weakness towards the ladies.”

“No, no, not that. It’s the sword. I called upon its magic. I forfeit my victory.” Lars took the claymore, its weight almost nothing now. A grey hoof rested upon his hand.

“You used what you had at your disposal.” Karrod’s sincere eyes looked up at him. “Even with just a sword, you increased your chances of victory. There’s no way you could have defeated me all on your own unless you stripped and attacked me with your uh... fists you call them?”

Lars nodded and put the claymore away. “But I didn’t use my own power to win. It was the spirit of my sword.”

“You can’t fight your fights on your own. The sword, and its magic, is only an extension of yourself. Celebrate your victory, Lars, and if there is ever anything you need, do not hesitate to call me. It was your hands that beat me as the first creature since my training days.”

The arena was filled with light as the Princess made her entrance. Loyal Crescent dutifully followed her with a cushion in his mouth. On the red silk lay a black dagger with a glowing green blade.

“Lars Leland, you have claimed the title of my champion. You join a rank that only twenty-three others before you have entered, and the first in over four hundred years.” Celestia was shaking slightly and her eyes were bloodshot. Her feathers were ruffled and her mane was almost not waving at all.

“Princess, are you all right?” Lars asked and sheathed his sword.

“I told you just to call me Celestia,” she dismissed. The pillow flew from Crescent’s mouth and hovered before Lars. “Accept this gift as a token of your victory.”

Lars took the dagger into his hands, feeling its weight and making sure that it reflected the light of the sun.

“Made of green volcanic glass makes it one of the most durable and light-weight weapons in all of Equestria,” Crescent said with an air of pride. “You won’t find this baby in the stores.”

“But do I have to wear it?” He accepted the scabbard as well and strapped it around his waist. The green blade completely sunk into the black leather and the dagger became nothing but black skin.

“Of course not.” Celestia shook her head serenely. “It is a prize, not a badge.”

“Now you must excuse me, Your Highness, but I have to finalise the preparations for the expedition,” Crescent said and turned towards Lars with an impressed smile. “I got to hoof it to you, Mr Leland, I did not think you had it in you. Congratulations!” He passed Lars with a respectful nod. “Come, Karrod. I still have to find you a punishment for disappointing me. Letting you get tricked like that is no behaviour for a lieutenant of–”

Karrod hurried to catch up and winked at Lars. “Not a word,” he mouthed.

The stadium slowly emptied out as the festivities ended. Lars stood alone in the middle of the grounds with only Celestia accompanying him. Her light fell on him but seemed paler than usual.

“You have proven yourself on this day. There are things we need to discuss when you return,” she said mysteriously.

“Like what?” he asked and began to finger the hilt of the dagger.

“You’ll see...” She looked up at the sky and closed her eyes for a moment. The wind played with her hair and she seemed fine again. But her legs began to wobble, and Lars caught her just in time and supported her. Her left wing embraced him and pushed him into her soft fur. His cheeks blushed and she pulled away. “There is something... you must do for me... while Crescent prepares,” she panted.

“Celestia, you are not well.” He tried to stroke her but the wing stopped him.

She took a moment to compose herself and smiled weakly down at him. “My children are dying, not of the plague but by strong poison. My best physicians couldn’t cure them if they didn’t deny treatment. I fear they are killing themselves.”

“What? Who’s killing themselves?” he asked confused and stepped back.

“The followers of Swirl the Smart. The ponies that you found under the city.”

“Those whackjobs who besieged my pod? You released them?” he asked incredulously and swung his arms.

“I had nothing to hold them on,” she replied, her face hardening. “They follow the teachings of... of Tuxedo Masquerade.” Celestia looked about ready to faint again but she had become too determined to allow herself such weaknesses.

“Masquerade? Wasn’t that the name of–?”

“Yes.” She nodded and closed her eyes for a moment. “He is the father of the Black Dagger assassin you’ve encountered before. He has distanced himself from his son but rebellion must run in their veins. Find him before he coaxes anymore of his followers to suicide. The expedition will probably be ready by the time you return.”

“I guess I’m now obligated to serve you, Princess.” Lars put his clenched right fist under his chin and then stuck it out in the air.

“Your obligation does not exempt you from calling me by my name.” Lars chuckled and turned around, but Celestia stopped him. “One other thing. I do not want anypony killed, so leave your weapons with me lest you convey the wrong message.”

Lars nodded and immediately took off the large scabbard draped over his shoulder. “Wait, don’t listen to this whore! You can’t leave me with a pony! Only kings and queens have ever touched my blade,” Greenhately protested but the claymore landed on the ground, kicking up a small cloud of dust.

“Well then, I hope a Princess is good enough for you.”

“I’m amazed you were able to turn the blade white again.” The sword was surrounded by a yellow glow and hovered up before the Princess’ face. “I have not seen this mysterious hue in almost a thousand years. The souls that this sword has corrupted. I’ve had to put down many of them on my own in the past.” A shade of grief passed her face as her eyes went distant.

“Well maybe if you had handled me better,” the sword replied.

“Does it speak to you?” Celestia asked, her magic suddenly failing and the sword escaping her grasp, nearly lodging itself in his foot. “Sorry. I haven’t slept well the last couple of days.”

Lars hurried to pick it up but Celestia’s magic quickly surrounded it again. “Oh... every now and then, you know. It calls itself Greenhately,” he replied-

“Interesting.” She had it levitate before her eyes, scrutinising it closely. “One would almost think such a name a pseudonym?”

“If there was nothing else, then where can I find him? This Tuxedo Masquerade.”

“His comings and goings are a mystery, but it is possible that his wife would know more.” The sword flew through the air and came to a rest on her back, her eyes focusing on him with gentle intensity. “Remember, I do not want him dead. That is not how we do it in Equestria... any longer.”

CHAPTER 4 PART 2: THE PROPHET

“I’ve won the trust of the princess of this place.” The streets had become drastically depopulated. Lars met only a single pony here and there as he wandered, consumed in his own thoughts. “For all this time, my visits with her have been courteous, formal, but now she is asking me directly out on a mission. This duel must have proven my worth to her. She knows more than she lets on. Timeless wisdom is hidden in that elegant body of hers. It would be improbable to assume she knows as little as she’s letting on.”

“That was quite a performance.” He looked down and saw Granny Pie walking next to him.

“How long have you been there?” he asked in sudden surprise and nearly bumped into a lamppost.

“Ever since you walked out of the arena, sweetie. Ears are still listening even if your eyes cannot see anyone.”

He nodded in acknowledgement and stopped up, leaning up against the lamppost. “Yeah. I don’t want to mess this thing up, now that I’ve won the Princess over on my side. Yet I don’t know where to start.”

“You are looking for Tuxedo Masquerade?” she asked, with an almost childish superiority in her voice. Like she already knew everything and was just waiting for him to ask.

“But no one knows where he is, except maybe his wife, and I don’t even know where to find her.” He crossed his arms in frustration, but Granny Pie simply chortled.

“The wife and I are old acquaintances. If she hasn’t fallen prey to the disease as well, then we should be able to find her at the market this time of the day.”

She waved her fluffy pink tail, beckoning him to follow. Lars shrugged and walked just behind her. “You know, for a mare your age, you certainly can keep a tempo. Where was this energy back in the sewers?”

“I’ve been Celestia’s chambermaid for many years, recently a lot of other things as well. It keeps the old muscles working.”

“Yes, I’m beginning to see why the Crimson Plague wouldn’t touch you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, you want to see who can get there first? You do still remember the way?”

He looked down at the mischievous mare’s grin and snorted. “All right, Mrs Pie, you’re on.”

It took them only few minutes to reach the marketplace. The few ponies not stricken by disease had congregated there. Most of them were owners of the various stalls, but also many of those who had watched the duel were present. There was a lively chatter and many of them recognised Lars, nodding and smiling at him as he zoomed past them.

He didn’t stop until he was well within the middle of the place, where the density of the crowd made it impossible to continue in high speed. Granny Pie was only seconds behind him but not visibly as out of breath as him.

“You’re lucky it wasn’t farther, young man! I could easily have overtaken you,” she said.

“In your... dreams...” Lars huffed back, bent over with hands on his knees. “I’m just... a little exhausted... from the duel... That’s all!”

Granny Pie shook her head and went up to the stall where they had stopped and bought two cups with a corn stalk painted on the sides. Several other vendors up and down the path tried to peddle their wares as well, but she ignored them. Lars accepted the cup and put the straw to his lips. A group of young ponies went past them, giggling at the strange creature wiping his sticky brow.

“That hit the spot.” He straightened up again and cracked his back, nearly spilling the cup in the process. “What is this stuff? Tastes like liquid bread.”

“It’s hay juice, sweetie. Don’t tell me you’ve only been drinking water all this time?”

“Well...” he replied nervously and scratched his neck. “You think we can find her here?”

“No, I rarely see her here in the produce part. We’ll have more luck where they sell fabrics. Us old ladies gather there to chat.”

“By all means, lead the way.”

The market had many other exciting things to offer. At the very end stood a raised platform where actors were performing “The Horror of Castle Canterlot – The Life and Death of Starswirl the Bearded,” according to the sign in front of the scene. Lars paused briefly among the amazed audience as smoke filled the stage. A young pegasus with white colours had a clearly fake horn attached to her forehead as she swooped out over the market place. Granny Pie nudged him along with her forehead to his waist.

“I’ll treat you to the show another day where we aren’t so busy, dearie.”

“A-ah. Yeah.” Even as he walked, his eyes were on the pegasus. “Celestia...” he mumbled when he saw the sun symbol painted on both sides of the actress.

“There she is!” Granny Pie said enthusiastically and nodded down at the street.

“The Princess?” Lars asked in surprise and looked wildly around the marketplace.

“No, silly, the wife.” She pointed a hoof towards a dark purple unicorn that browsed a stall filled with rolls of fine fabrics. She had an almost sorrowful look on her, like someone who had lost something dear.

Lars waved his hands down, a cue for Granny Pie to wait while he took care of things. He walked up the street casually and ignored the stalls around him. He was just a man who needed to cut through an unpleasant place to get where he wanted to go. No pony paid him any more than they did any other. But he stopped just shortly after passing the wife and bowed his head.

“Ma’am, I need to know where I can find your husband,” he said. She dropped the basket she carried in her mouth and looked up at him with frightened eyes.

“I-I don’t know where my husband is,” she stammered but Lars shook his head and looked her dead in the eyes.

“I think you do.” The unicorn took a few steps away from Lars before breaking into a run up the street. “Why do they always run?”

Cursing under his breath, Lars took up the chase. The wife was a pony and built for running, even if she was a little old. Lars had a hard time keeping up with her having already spent a lot of energy fighting and racing. Granny Pie stepped out on the street and greeted her.

“Emerald! It’s been too long,” she called but the wife was in no mood for a friendly palaver. She cut between stalls on her left and jumped over a collection of porcelain dolls and decorated plates to the other street. Less gracefully, Lars followed and saw her run down through the throng. A Chinese-looking pony got too close to her and was spun into circles, but sighed in relief when his tray of dumplings didn’t fall from his head. Lars apologised in passing but instead bumped into a blue minotaur with a head full of black hair.

“You all right?” the creature asked, but Lars quickly got up without answering. Emerald had gotten a major edge and was disappearing in the steams of soup kitchen at the very back of the market.

“Dammit!” Lars sought to cut her off by jumping through the stalls again but tripped on a woodblock and landed in a batch of eggs.

“Hey!” the disgruntled earth pony said but Lars was on his feet again before he could do anything.

The tent was just ahead of him, cauldrons warming over fires and steam filling the area. A crowd of ponies was gathered around, bowls in their mouth, waiting to be served. The soup kitchen was off in a corner of the market place and there was much open space around it. His eyes darted from side to side but he could not see her any longer. He pressed himself between the ponies and took notice of every one of them when he heard a mare calling out in surprise. He rushed back the way he had come and there the wife was with Granny Pie lying across her.

“You’re late!” she said with a smile.

“Mmm-yeah.” Lars wiped the last egg from his face and front. “Just a little exhausted is all. I’d have caught her on any other day.”

“You can find my husband at the Winged Minotaur,” the wife sighed in defeat.

Lars squatted down next to her and Granny Pie got off. “That wasn’t so hard. Why did you run?”

She looked up at him with defeated eyes. “Ever since my husband started that stupid cult of his, weird ponies have been accosting me at all hours. Even when I kicked him out they kept coming, looking for him.”

“I’m not interested in that, ma’am. I just want to stop him for the peace of Equestria.”

“He may have become a lunatic but I still love him, so please don’t kill him!”

Lars put a hand on her head and rubbed her red mane. “I come in peace, I assure you. Granny, maybe stay with her for now?”

Granny Pie nodded and Lars went away from the market. He had been in Canterlot for nearly two weeks and was starting to know its streets better. He knew where the Sun Plaza was where the Summer Sun Celebration had been held, and he knew the way from there to the inn. It was only a matter of finding some part of the city that he recognised.

The Winged Minotaur wasn’t as lively than it had been last time he had went for a visit. Ponies still sat on the porch outside and enjoyed a small meal but many more tables were empty than occupied. It could also very well be the disease instead that forced so many to stay in bed. Lars didn’t think much of it. A unicorn stood on the street outside, wearing a white robe that almost entirely covered his green coat. His aging mane was almost entirely white with only a hint of magenta, but a passionate fire burned in his eyes. Anypony who bothered listening would get their ear full or a pamphlet thrust into their mouth.

“Greetings, friend!” he called to Lars and waved him over. “Are you interested in learning more about End of Times?”

“Sure. I’d like to know why your followers are offing themselves,” he replied grumpily with arms across his chest.

“Our belief is a simple one, my friend.” He wasn’t just speaking to Lars. His words were loud enough to be heard by everypony passing by. “The blessed Celestia, though once filled with glory, is no longer the god she once was. As with the tides and the moon, all cosmic powers will wax and wane. But, when gods die, it creates ripples throughout the lands. The passing of the Princess will be a prelude to the end of this era, and the beginning of the next. The followers of the End of Times are making ourselves ready for this to happen.”

“And that entails killing yourselves?” he asked in disbelief. Tuxedo hung his head but his voice was optimistic.

“We realise that the end of the era will bring many changes. We believe that the gates of Tartarus will open, and a multitude of demons will roam this world freely. Some might tell you that this is a good thing, that we are descended from them and it will be a return to the natural order of things. I know differently, though. The coming age will be a time of great horror.”

“You’re just avoiding my question! Why are you killing off your followers?” His voice was imbued with the intent to demonstrate that Tuxedo was wrong, and Lars swung his arms out at the ponies that had stopped up to see what was happening.

“The demons are not our ancestors. Nor are they our allies. They will wash over the land, destroying all that ponies have built over these thousands of years. The only protection from this scourge will be our true ancestors that have gone before us and watch over us even now. Many of our followers choose to participate in the Cleansing, to prepare the way for the rest of us. It is a sacrifice to be sure, but it is for the greater good.”

“Sounds more like you’re exploiting them.”

“It is a glorious ritual, my friend. Our followers cleanse themselves of all of their troubles, all of their burdens here on this earth. They send themselves ahead to the ancestors, spreading our word, making ready for when we shall all join them in our fight against the demonic hordes.”

“And what about the ponies who attacked me in the tunnels under the city?”

Tuxedo nodded his melancholically before answering. “I apologise on their behalf but they are not of my flock. They follow the teachings of Swirl the Smart and while great, also utterly insane.”

“They did mention that guy.”

A devious smile spread across Tuxedo’s lips but coughed it away. “Swirl the Smart was a stallion who lived thousands of years ago. He made a lot of prophecies but do not mistake them for established fact.”

Lars closed his eyes for a moment. “Well, you seem harmless enough, if not a little lost in the clouds. I will have to report this to Celestia of course but I will list the deaths as unrelated... if you decide to stop the ritualistic suicides.”

“Oh, I cannot help what my followers do, my friend, but I will tell them that enough lives have been sacrificed.”

“Then my business here is done. But the next time I will be sent after you will be with my sword.” The crowd dispersed again to let him through and the ponies went back about their businesses. Tuxedo continued as he had before and tried to hoof out flyers to those passing him. “Let’s hope it won’t come to it,” Lars mumbled.

CHAPTER 4 PART 3: THE FACILITY

Celestia waited for him at the Sun Plaza and he explained everything about Tuxedo. She gave him a tired smile and sighed.

“I hope you are right in your assessment, Lars Leland. I do not want his words to poison any more minds.”

“Those who listen are just lost and trying to find a new meaning. It will be fine, but I am still wondering what gave him his epiphany.”

Loyal Crescent and Karrod strolled into the plaza with a hoofful of guards trailing behind him. All were dressed in full uniform with helmet and amour and swords and everything. Celestia leant in closer to Lars’ ear and whispered.

“Come back alive. When you have rested, there are some things you need to know.” Crescent came up to them and Celestia retracted herself. “I had a most fun time talking with your sword. A most obstinate creature to be sure.”

The sword hovered from between her folded wings and landed into Lars’ waiting arms. He slung it over his shoulders and instantly the voice of Greenhately filled his head.

“If you have any hopes of ever gaining my power, then don’t ever let my fine body be touched by such filthy creatures.”

“He says hi,” Lars said to Loyal Crescent.

“I’m sure. Are you ready, Champion?” the commander asked to which Lars nodded.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. Do you have enough men with you?”

Loyal Crescent looked over his shoulder where twelve gilded ponies stood waiting for orders. “I think we’ll manage. Now, if we could get going before the entire city succumbs to this… human disease.”

“So you believe in it now?” Lars smiled triumphantly but a pained expression came over the guard captain’s face.

“My daughter is at home refusing to wake up.” Crescent suddenly looked up at Lars with very dangerous eyes. “If we can’t resolve this then I will hold you personally responsible, are we clear?”

“Do not be so pessimistic.” It was all Celestia had just to keep standing. Her legs were shaking and the bags under her eyes told of countless sleepless nights.

“Your Highness, please don’t strain yourself. You can rest easy tonight with the comfort knowing that I am taking full charge here!” Crescent said but Celestia closed her eyes and looked for a long moment to be on the verge of throwing up. Finally she gathered what little strength she had left and levitated another item from under wings. It looked like a brown vase but was made of metal and completely solid.

“This was found in Canterlot’s underground. You might come to need it.” Her magic flickered, but Lars had put his hands out before the object could hit the ground. “Do not fail, for the sake of Equestria.”

He was about to ask what it was or how she had come into possession of it, but the Princess was already trotting out of the plaza and Crescent didn’t acknowledge it either.

“Last chance then, Mr Leland. Do you still insist to come with us?” he asked. Lars hugged the strange thing and nodded.

“I’ve come this close to knowing how I got here so I’m not about to step down!” He clutched the strange thing by its ear and held it up into the air.

“Very well then. The hole is waiting for us if you are ready.” Crescent tossed his head towards the middle of the plaza. Celestia’s statue was almost entirely broken off and only her rearing hind legs were left. It was an otherwise unremarkable sandstone plinth with a plaque screwed to its base. A hatch had been installed and Karrod opened it with the key in his mouth. He smiled up to Lars and winked, before putting it into his armour again.

“Follow my lead.” Crescent took a lantern from one of his guards and then tiptoed into the darkness tail first, making extra sure his hoofs entered all the steps in descent. Karrod was next with Lars following and then the rest of the guards. It didn’t take them long to get to the opening that Lars had discovered a few days prior and the difference in darkness was blinding for a moment.

“This is it,” Lars said and grabbed the rough edges of the entrance.

“Is this really as far as you got?” Loyal Crescent put the lantern down and squeezed in next to him, staring unimpressed down at the vast room unfolding before them. “Doesn’t seem to be any dangers. Are you sure you weren’t just afraid to climb down?”

A pillar had dislodged itself and fallen into the wall where it had broken through. It was the only way down as the tunnel was otherwise blocked by a cave in. A few humanoid machines were scattered across the floor but were completely unmoving.

“They must have killed off all the fabricants and gone back into hibernation. I might not need you guys after all. Hold on.”

Lars carefully placed the vase-shaped object Celestia had given him down on the ground and jumped out on to the pillar. The sleek marble was twice as wide as him and secured him a smooth ride down before coming to a tumbling stop at the bottom. Only down there the enormity of the room hit him. His mouth opened but no words exited. He stared agape at a ceiling that seemed so far away and furniture like flotsam on a sea of carpets and wood panels.

“It’s like a gigantic chapel,” he whispered. Still his words echoed and the machines sprang to life and raised their guns at him. Rather than being frightened like the gasps he heard from the guards above him, he stood stock still and allowed the machines to come close to him.

“Identity,” it asked with an uncannily human voice. It was naked but its bolted metal plates were painted blue with red stripes down the arms.

“Sergeant Lars Leland with crew,” he said.

“Voice not recognised. Identity,” it repeated and stretched out a hand.

Lars spat into the palm and the machine closed its fingers. Its green eyes glossed over for a moment before reciting the verdict. “No reference sample found. Intruder alert, intruder alert.”

The rest of the machines repeated “Intruder alert” over and over again and they all aimed their guns directly at him. He reached for the claymore behind him knowing it would be too late before he could unsheathe it. But a minty flash streaked past him and the robot’s head and left arm fell off with a sputter. Arrows rained down from above, some splintering on the hard surfaces but others wresting the guns from the mechanical arms. This gave Lars the time he needed. He and Crescent started hacking away at the robots with Karrod and a few of the guards fast joining them.

“Smooth moves, Mr Leland. Looks like your toys don’t recognise you anymore.” Crescent had his sword between his hooves and pounded it into a cold chest. The machine staggered backwards with a hollow cry of death.

“This facility could have been built hundreds of years after I vanished.” Lars first cut off the machine’s hand and then used the momentum to slice into its side.

Karrod said nothing but bounced around from shoulder to shoulder with the sickle in his mouth, gashing up the metal faces he encountered and ripped up their heads. The rest of the guards had equal fun and deftly avoided the hail of bullets raining down on them. One of them hid behind a pillar while dust flew everywhere. Cornered and with no way out, he showed the resourcefulness of Celestia’s guards by kicking it hard. The pillar creaked from its base and crashed down on the machine and brought an end to the cacophony.

When the dust had settled, Lars, Crescent and all the others were alone once more. The robots lay dead before them and not a single one of their own had followed them. They were not without injuries however. One of the guards rested up against a pillar. His armour was full of bumps and dents and his left arm was dyed red.

Lars went towards him. “Are you okay?” he asked but the guard nodded dismissively.

“I’m fine, my friend. Leave me here and go on ahead without me.”

“You stay here then,” Crescent said, already in the process of moving on. “Make sure nothing can come to surprise us from this end. Now then, which way do we go, Mr Leland?”

Lars turned from the injured guard and looked around them room. There was a door at the very bottom which they would have used to enter but dirt and stone blocked it off. The only other two doors were at the direct opposites of the room off to each side. A threadbare burgundy carpet connected them and formed a t with a wooden receptionist’s desk in front. The rest was worn out leather couches and tables spread around here and there.

“We should have the guards check out both doors,” Lars suggested and pointed them out. “Just to see if any of them goes anywhere.”

Loyal Crescent waved over some of his stallions and sent them out on their mission.

“Have you investigated that possibility of an imposter within your ranks?” Lars asked. Loyal Crescent was silent as he moved around, taking in everything he saw and especially paying close attention to the machines. “Well?”

“I am… not denying the possibility.” Crescent picked up one the guns, what looked like a submachine gun, possibly of the M4 variant.

“So you admit it then!” Lars stated eagerly.

“I am admitting nothing, I simply don’t deny it. You have shown me enough strange things by merely existing but it’s still, hmm, hard to believe.” Karrod wedged in between them and drove his sickle into the robot and moved on. Crescent sighed and pushed the gun away. “It would help if you could tell me a little more about this imposter.”

“Uhm.” Lars couldn’t take his eyes off Karrod walking from robot to robot and striking them with his weapon.

“Come now, Mr Leland, he’s simply making sure they’re dead. A general description would be nice, but if you know the cutie mark…”

“He was a unicorn and had a light purple coat and a mane that was lightly grey. What do you mean by cutie mark?”

Crescent lifted up his uniform as much as the straps allowed him. A sword crossing a crescent moon was imprinted on his flanks on both sides, the symbol also marked on his crest.

Lars crouched down next to Crescent but he released his armour again so that it obscured the view. “What is that thing anyway? Nearly every pony I see has one.”

“That’s because it’s a symbol of our talent. Those without are simply too young to have found theirs yet,” Crescent said somewhat impatiently, making it perfectly clear he had no intention of being a teacher. Lars ignored it however.

“What’s your talent then? I mean, that’s a moon and a sword, shouldn’t it have been a sun and a–”

“Mr Leland, the cutie mark… of the imposter?”

“Ah yes.” Lars got up again, scratching his chin and tapping his bare right foot. “Damn, I think it was bandaged up after the goblin attack. That’s also where he dented his… his armour.” He looked over his shoulder to where the injured guard had been previously, now a few droplets of blood were all that was left. “He kept calling me friend. Where did that guard go? I thought he was resting.”

Crescent looked at a guard who stood a little distance away and whistled. The guard jerked his head up and looked at them. “H-he said he felt better and joined the group investigating the right side.”

“It has to be him. Bullets wouldn’t have dented his armour like that.” Lars hurriedly ran towards the room but was met with a loud bang and a cloud of dust rolled out of the doorway. Several coughing guards followed it.

“I’m sorry, sir, but he just suddenly cut in front of us,” one said and wiped his brow.

“Yeah, and then he blasted the ceiling so that the whole damn thing collapsed.”

Lars entered the room apprehensively and saw what had been a dormitory. Several beds were stacked up on top of each other and now covered in a fine layer of dirt. Broken tile and brick spilled out from the wall on the left and a purple barrier surrounded it.

“Bastard must have sealed it after him,” Crescent said as he strode past Lars and put a hoof up to the barrier. It rippled but would not permit him to go through it despite its flimsy appearance.

“At least you believe me now?” Lars asked with an enthusiastic smile. Crescent could only nod.

“Well, no going this way. Let’s hope our mission hasn’t failed already.” He went back out of the room but looked back to see that Lars was still standing in there. “You coming?”

“H-hold on.” His voice was distracted and his hands busy. Several lockers for personal effects had been erected in the dormitory and Lars opened every one of them. “I was hoping for a spare pair of boots.” He slammed the last door shut and sighed, his eyes finding the bunks. Something ashen looked to be mixed in with the dust but Crescent called out to him again.

“Oi, last call before I leave you here. We still have to check out the left way.”

Lars nodded and trailed along between the regular guards and the higher ranking officers. The door on the left led to a corridor that tilted downwards. A single robot lumbered towards them but the guards sprinted from behind and hacked it to pieces. Crescent barely took any notice, instead inspecting the corridor.

“Which way do we go now?” he asked with only slight interest.

Lars looked first to the right and saw a small room that was again blocked off by debris and then to the left where a door stood with a sign above it.

“Lab 01,” he read and peeked in through the glass pane. “I think we should just go on.”

The corridor took a sharp turn to the left and continued down. At the bottom was a niche with a marble statue of a man with short, thin hair and a powerful jaw. The hall made a one eighty to another door that Lars pushed open. It went on like that with the corridor snaking its way down into the ground, taking a few pauses here and there for a laboratory door, a marble figure or a lunch hall.

The robots were prevalent as well, popping out of rooms or walking towards them. The guards jumped into actions with their swords and Lars felt obligated to join them. After what seemed like an hour of walking the unthinkable happened. The corridor itself was blocked off with rubble. Crescent traced a hoof along the tightly packed wall of stones and grumbled. Karrod stepped in and gave it a few kicks with his hind legs. Some of the guards teamed together and pelted it with their spells. Nothing could budge it.

“Seems we are at a dead-end,” Crescent finally said. “Maybe we could backtrack and find another way.”

“No, it should be just beyond here. Hold on, I think I saw something we could use.”

The human darted back up the stairs to the preceding corridor. A few robots lay unmoving on the ground and observed him with their dead eyes running past them. The wood panel walls echoed with his bare feet as he went to a room on his right. It was a work area of some sort with weird machines that took up whole walls, a desk at the end and several chests about the floor. More of the strange ash lay strewn around, but always on top of clothes.

“If I’m lucky, I might be able to find it here.” He opened the chests one after the other, sometimes finding spoiled food and at other times various knickknack. It was with fondness he picked up a small statuette of a man wielding a sledgehammer in his right hand. He opened at last the desk drawers and a wide smile came over his face. A satisfied chuckle escaped him as he picked up a white bundle a little bigger than his hands, wound with yellow cords and carrying a timer thrust into the top.

The others awaited him impatiently, sitting on the floor or leaning up against the walls. They watched him curiously carry the package as he ran past them down the stairs to the blockade. He gently put it down where it could sit without falling off.

“You better stand back for this one. It’s going to give a little bang,” Lars said and began to fiddle with the timer.

“What in Celestia’s name do you have there?” Crescent asked and backed away.

“High explosives. That’ll clear the rubble right out.”

Karrod had come up next to him to see better but then pulled his head back sharply and turned around.

“I hope for the sake of us all that you know what you’re doing.” Crescent and Karrod galloped up the stairs with the guards. Lars took a few more moments to set the timer properly and then followed them. They had just barely gotten up into the corridor again when a loud explosion clutched at their hearts. A cloud of dust bellowed up and covered them. When it cleared again, they all had a fine layer of dirt on them.

Lars peered around the corner. Light streamed out through a small hole in the debris. “It isn’t much, but I doubt we can afford another one.”

“Then we better get a move on,” Crescent said and took the lead down again. Large cracks tore at the walls and the low rumbling still reverberated. Several of the guards coughed or rubbed their eyes from unpreparedness, but blindly hobbled along. The ceiling bulged down, as if the tons of earth on top threatened to cave in at any moment.

The guard captain was first to try. He could just barely fit into the hole and needed a slight push from his lieutenant to make it. Next was Lars who had the usage of his hands to grip the wall on the other side and propel him forward. He tumbled out and landed headfirst. It a few guards several minutes to squeeze through, so when the third had come to the other side, Lars raised his hand.

“This could take all day, and I we won’t need everyone to come with us.”

“Mr Leland speaks the truth. Karrod, guard the hole.” The zebra saluted and so Lars, with Crescent and three guards, moved further into the complex.

The facility didn’t change and was the same mix of long-winded hallways with sharp corners slanting downwards. Most of the other ways were blocked however. Whole laboratories had been buried beneath dirt and stone spilling out into the corridor. A few robots meandered about but they could barely manage to raise their guns before getting sliced up. Their empty husks fell to the ground with a sputter.

They came to a large room with two doors on each of the four walls. An ornate fountain stood in the middle with benches surrounding it. No water sprayed from it any longer but it was still in a remarkable shape. All of the entrances looked to be blocked off however. Still Lars made sure to check them all. A short laughter rung through the wall when he came to the lowest one.

“We are in luck! The one door we needed is the only one accessible.” He waved over the others who were otherwise busy marvelling at the grandeur. Faded pictures hung on the walls and it was anyone’s guess what they had once shown. “Look. It’s just down this straight corridor.”

“What is just straight down that corridor?” Crescent asked impatiently. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re all getting a little tired and claustrophobic.”

“I’m not sure, but the sign says ‘Centre for the Crimson Plague’ above the door. I guess the rest is, or was, sleeping quarters and recreational facilities.”

“No time like the present. Make way.”

Crescent pushed Lars aside and forced the wooden door open. He remained standing in the doorway, unsure what to do or say.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Large square pads, ten in all, were lined up against the walls with enough space to walk two and two between them. They were red while the floor and all the surfaces had been painted blue. Lars entered and squatted down next to a pad. Deep gashes had rent the machine and exposed its delicate belly of wires and electronics. “Looks like the fabricants teleported here.”

“You can stay here,” Crescent said in a tired voice to his stallions. They put hoofs to their heads and resumed their exploration after stealing a few peeks, more than happy to get a chance to rest. “So if they weren’t broken, you could have used them to backtrack to whoever was behind the attack?”

“It’s possible,” Lars said and got up again, brushing off his purple pants. “These are used mostly for transport within the facility but could send someone a short distance away. But it doesn’t matter now. The fabricants broke them after teleporting here and no doubt also all the cave ins we’ve seen so far.”

“Then we shouldn’t dwell on it. I just want to find a cure or something like that so we can get out of here.”

Lars nodded and they walked the last distance. He pushed open the door but this time, it was his turn to get his breath taken from him. They stood on a small platform suspended over a bottomless pit. A pillar that filled almost the entire width of the room drooped down from the ceiling and the two were connected by a narrow walkway.

“This… I…” he stammered and looked around stupefied. “I don’t know what to say, I mean… I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Is that thing reaching aboveground?” Crescent asked with some concern and craned his neck. They were mere ants in comparison with the machine before them and it took another few minutes to walk around it.

Lars traced a hand across the yellow surface, sending goosebumps up his arms. “I-I-I believe it is. Just what kind of research did they do down here?” There was a control panel on the other side, nothing more than a large metallic box with a lever. “If I didn’t know better, I’d almost say this thing is pumping Crimson Plague directly into Canterlot. But that’s impossible. That would mean it was humans who created the disease that threatened to wipe us out.”

“I don’t know. Doesn’t it seem a little crude compared to the technology here?” Crescent put his hooves up on the railing and gazed down into the abyss. “By Celestia, I can’t even see an end to this.”

“You might be right. I’ve never seen switches on a Prima City invention before,” Lars said and grabbed the box at its sides. The lever was pushed up to “On” so he tried to yank it down. Regardless of how hard he tucked at it, however, it simply wouldn’t budge. He kicked it in frustration, remembering too late his bare feet. He clutched the railing for support with one hand and his foot with the other. Just as he cried out, a door on the box creaked open and his pain was forgotten. A large indentation shaped like a vase sat in the middle among all the gears.

“Didn’t we have something shaped like that?” Crescent asked. Lars panicky examined his hands.

“Please don’t tell me I left it all the way back at the entrance?”

Hoofsteps rung through the vast emptiness. A guard galloped towards them with a red, vase-shaped object balancing on his back. He came to a screeching halt and bowed down.

“We suddenly remembered this thing and thought you might need it.”

“Thank you very much, I was worried there for a moment. Let’s see if it fits then.”

Lars took the burden off of the guard’s shoulders and carefully carried it to the box. It wouldn’t quite go into the hole however, no matter how Lars twisted or turned it. A minty green hoof shot out of nowhere and kicked it into place. The metallic box emitted a low hum as a sign of working again.

“You could have destroyed it!” Lars said in a shocked tone and waved his arms at Crescent.

“As I said, we all just want to go home. And I didn’t destroy it so just turn the machine off, please.”

Lars raised a finger but could not argue against the proposition. He jerked away from Crescent and wrapped his hand around the lever knob. It flowed unhindered down to “Off” in one smooth motion. A background noise they hadn’t even noticed before turned off and the silence hung heavy in their ears.

“Now to make sure no one else ever uses this thing again.” Crescent took the sword from his side and lifted it high up into the air. He brought it down like a sack of bricks on the box before Lars could stop him. Even the hum was then gone. “Private Sunshine, kick it down.”

“Yes sir!” the guard said excitedly and crouched down in front of the box. It took just one mighty kick to send it flying down into the darkness.

“Will there be any permanent damages?” Crescent asked with face as far into the darkness as his neck would allow it, listening for a clunk that would never come.

“Everyone should be fine after such a short time. The problem in my time was the constant exposure from the polluted air. I still can’t believe that we made our own downfall.” He sighed crestfallen and leant up against the railing.

Crescent looked up again and started the walk back. “Look at it this way, Mr Leland. The facility is rigged up to Canterlot and the security doesn’t recognise you. I think it’s safe to say this was pony made.”

“No, the architecture is too dead on to be coincidental. This facility is from my time but…” Lars gave the impressive machinery a last look as they passed around it. “It looks to have been modified at some point, however clumsily.”

“There you go, Mr Leland, don’t let it get you down. You’ve accomplished many things on this day after all.”

The walk back felt much longer for the party, probably because they were now going up not to mention the sheer exhaustion of getting down in the first place. It was a sweaty group of ponies and man that breached the surface again. Several guards saluted them as they exited the hole again. A large crowd had gathered around the broken statue and cheered on as well. The Princess was missing however but her chambermaid was there instead. Granny Pie personally greeted Lars and dragged him out of the crowd, where Crescent showered in the praise with Karrod by his side.

“The heavy blanket threatening to crush us has been lifted. I feel twenty years younger already,” she said and smiled heartwarmingly up at him. “So, did you find any answers down there?”

“Sadly no.” Lars sighed and followed her through the throng up towards the castle grounds. “If anything, I have even more questions now. The whole complex must have been buried down there for centuries and the security didn’t recognise me. I am wholly confused by this mess and I am no step closer to getting home either.”

“The Princess wishes to see you on that account, once she’s gotten some rest. I don’t think she’s slept the last four days.”

“I could use some as well,” he replied and stretched until his back creaked. “I’m all sore everywhere.”