Soul Survivor (the first season)

by JC Borch

Chapter 6: The Mad Pony Who Would Be A God

I got a gun, and I even got it charged. It’s time for the Princess to make with the answers and send me on my way. Will I find the source of the fabricants, the machines that attacked Canterlot? Will I find the pony responsible for the Crimson Plague, a debilitating disease that nearly threatened to wipe out everyone? And will I find out who Butterscotch Delight really is, the pony that acted as my guide and on several occasions threatened to kill me? Most importantly… will I find a way to return home to my wife and daughter?

CHAPTER 6 PART 1: PROLOGUE

The answers to all his questions were held by the Princess sitting on her throne. For the first time since his visit, the weather outside had turned first to rain and then to storm. A crack of lightning illuminated the throne room and the guards shivered ever so slightly in the lowered temperature. Lars felt it as well on his bare feet, even on the red carpet that led him down the throne room.

“I suppose I owe you an explanation,” Celestia said calmly.

“If you would,” Lars replied a little irritated. “No more games or errands. I dealt with your guard captain, I took care of your personal problem and I got myself a gun. I deserve to know everything you know about me. You can’t expect me to believe that you, after a thousand years, know as little as you let on.”

“Calm down, Lars Leland. We will not talk about this here.” She glided down the stairs and wrapped one large wing around him. “There is only one place for private discussion, and this is not it.”

Celestia was calm for the entire duration of their walk. Lars recognised the route that they were taking but figured that they would go into another room along the way, but they passed door after door. When they finally stopped, it was in front of her private chamber. He swallowed the lump in his throat and remained outside.

“There is no shame for you to enter an old lady’s bedroom. Or what else do you see in my eyes?” She tossed her head and sat down on the floor. Slowly, carefully, Lars stepped inside.

“I see you got the place put back together.” He looked up at the walls and saw the familiar portrait of a dark-blue mare. There was one further addition to the decoration, however: a sea shell amulet on the dresser beneath the painting. Lars could feel his cheeks flush with burning colour at the sight of them. Only hours prior, that necklace had been given to him by a dying guard as a gift for the Princess.

“Mostly. I still need to find a new nightstand. Shame you had to break it, it’s been with me for over fifty years.” There was a certain kind of humour about her, and her light-hearted chuckling made Lars feel more at easy. He sat down across her on her floor where there was a small, round rug. “I can’t guarantee an answer to all your questions, so when you feel the need to leave you have only to use this.”

A drawer flew open in the dresser. A ring hovered out of it and into Lars’ waiting palm. He studied the knob where a gem more often would be placed and noted the numbers that had been scribbled along the edge. “A transportation ring… with this I could teleport to most buried facilities in the vicinity. How did you get this?”

“That ring is almost a thousand years old. I used it to chase down Swirl the Smart and bring an end to him, but now someone else is using his inventions to spread terror and fear.”

“Butterscotch Delight,” Lars asked and clenched his fist tightly around the ring. “So that’s it then, is it?”

Celestia shook her head. “I didn’t know what Swirl the Smart wanted back then and I do not know what his successor wants now. I only know that it will mean destruction to Equestria if he is not stopped.”

“So a thousand years. I’ve been sleeping underneath Canterlot for a thousand years? But I still don’t understand how I got here. I was researching man’s chances of survival in space. Something must have happened to my ship and my emergency pod crashed here… ARGH, if only I could remember what!” He scratched his hair in frustration.

“Your story is a fantastical one, Lars Leland. Butterscotch might have more of the answers you need to make peace with yourself.”

“And a way to blow this joint,” Greenhately added in his mind. “We have the ring, so let’s roll already.”

“Who was Swirl the Smart? And why now?” Lars put the ring on his left hand almost unconsciously.

“These are all things that Swirl prepared before I vanquished him. And now he continues to haunt us.”

“Then I will put an end to this.” Lars got up and held a hand out to the ring when he stopped himself. “Where should I go?”

“The ring is already adjusted to take you to his factory where you will be most likely to find him. And at that factory you will find his machines. One of them is certain to take you home.”

He smiled and looked at the ring, but another thought crossed his mind. “Butterscotch told me he invented the guard’s armours.”

A pained expression crossed the Princess’ face but she replied with her usual calmness. “He is delusional. He thinks himself to be Swirl the Smart from so long ago.”

Lars studied her for a moment. “Was he dangerous? This Swirl the Smart?”

“Oh, he was highly intelligent and manipulative, but he was too good to be true. Had I not just lost my sister…” She paused and looked up at the painting. A single tear fell from her eye. “It almost has been a thousand years, hasn’t it?”

“Princess?” Lars asked and extended a hand towards her, but she turned her serene gaze to him.

“You should go. And be careful. Swirl’s factory lies under the sea. There’ll be traps and more fabricants that you can count. I could have sent you on your way since the first you day you came here. Even now I think it’s too dangerous for you, but Butterscotch is a danger to all of Equestria.”

“I will be careful, Princess. To find a way home to my family I will dare any danger.” Lars pressed the dial down on his ring and he vanished.

CHAPTER 6 PART 2: THE MAD PONY WHO WOULD BE A GOD

Lars stood in water to his ankles and leant up against the many pillars. Nausea had him in its grip as he tried to get his bearings. The hall behind him was blocked with debris like he had been used to in the facility under Canterlot, but the surfaces were green and the pillars were square. It had a futuristic whiff about it even with all the stone it was made from. He forced himself forward and sloshed through the water even with his head swimming from the matter deconstruction/reconstruction.

The way ahead was barred by a locked, round door. “We got this far, now what do we do?” Greenhately asked.

“I don’t recognise this place at all. The other facility could have passed for one from my time and probably was, but this factory is so… alien. Do you see any way to get this door open?” He rested one arm on the door and another on his head.

“Couldn’t just have sent us directly to Butterscotch, of course. We have to go through another convoluted maze.”

“You’re not helping here.”

“Hold on to your pants, mister. There’s a switch on one of those pillars that you could maybe try.”

Lars wrested himself free and splashed some water into his face. “God, that’s cold,” he admitted and rubbed his arms with the opposite hands. “How deep down do you think we are?”

“Too deep for you to feel comfortable. Flick that switch and let us be done with it.”

Feeling more refreshed, Lars finally got the switch pulled and the door opened. There was no further water for him to worry about, but his feet were already freezing. The hall turned to stairs leading him upwards while doing its twists and turns. He encountered several more blocked doorways where to his concern water trickled out.

The chambers that he encountered varied from small to large, and all of them had pillars holding up the ceiling. Fabricants of both kinds roamed around. Lars merely had to draw his gun and squeeze the bulb for them to explode. After a while of walking and taking another turn, Lars was faced with a long hallway. He stepped inside carefully and was nearly sliced apart by a swinging blade. From wall to wall the heads of axes went back and forth between niches.

“You can heal me, right?” Lars asked nervously.

“If your head is still on your shoulders, yes.”

“Just three of them. You’ve dodged worse for me in the past.” The first axe cleared its momentum and rested inside a pocket in the wall for just a fraction of a second. Lars saw it as his chance to jump into the middle of it. The second one missed him by a hair’s breadth and the third only because he tossed himself out on the other side.

“I get the feeling this isn’t the last trap we’ll encounter,” Greenhately said as Lars looked behind him and dusted himself off.

“Well it could have gone worse.” He proceeded through the door on his left and ventured up more stairs and corridors. The algae and slime thinned out, leaving the stone walls to their greyness. Eventually, Lars paused at a large spot of blood on the ground. “I don’t like this,” he muttered and inched closer to it. He prodded at it with his sword and spikes protruded up from the floor.

“Grisly. You’d better find a way around.”

Lars scowled at the only other route available. He had desperately wanted to pass it by as it led to a large room crawling with fabricants. The hulking things scuttled around the pillars, their claws clicking hollowly on the stone floor. Lars gripped the sword hard.

“For old times’ sake?” he asked and instantly power rose up into his arms. The feel of someone else’s hands on his still unnerved him terribly, but by now was just a minor nuisance. He ran down the stairs with a battle cry. The fabricants looked up at him and galloped towards him. He was swarmed in the matter of seconds. The stingers and pinchers barely hurt him. What wounds he endured quickly closed up again. He hacked left and right with little work from his own part. Mechanical limbs flew around his ears as his sword ripped into the metallic bodies. He barely realised what he was doing and at length stood with oil dripping from his body. The white blade was as clean and undamaged as ever.

“We’re done here,” Greenhately said. Lars awoke as if from a dream and took in the carnage he had made. The blood was cold and viscous but something stirred in Lars’ mind, making him shudder all over. He put the claymore back despite Greenhately’s protest. “Why so sombre? You’re the one who wanted to use me again.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled and crossed the room. A set of stairs led him back up to the corridor where one way was splattered with blood again. He stopped up and looked at his shaking hands. “What was that just now? A dream that could be nothing but a nightmare, but is really a memory. No, what the Hell am I even saying…”

He grunted in frustration and staggered down the corridor. The noises he made were like a wounded animal, though he had no wounds on him. Still he clutched the exposed flesh from the hole in his suit and slid down the wall. “When the Neon Spirit takes over the host to perform tasks, the mind of the knight sometimes takes to dreaming… and other times to reminiscing. Do you understand what I’m saying?” a distant voice asked him. Lars crumbled to the floor in a foetal position while clutching his head as images surged through his mind.

“This is a dream… a side effect of using you?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. What you are seeing now is too real to be a dream and yet too intangible to have been a memory. I’d almost say someone implanted this dream in your mind.”

“MAKE IT STOP!” he screamed and scratched long gashes into his cheeks. For a while longer he lay on the floor, sobbing and bleeding.

“You were not meant to remember the dream. Your mind is fighting against the barrier to satisfy its curiosity.”

“I was on the spaceship.” He sat up against the wall and buried his head in his palms. “My best friend was there, Ulrich Pendragon. He liked Charlotte but never dared to tell her, but she had always an eye for me instead. He tried to kill them all. The scientists, the workers… even me. There was an escape pod. And then I woke up.”

“I know. I can see your mind, remember?”

“But none of that was real, was it? Ulrich… Ulrich would never do any of that?”

“Must I repeat myself? There’s a good chance the dream isn’t real. Must likely an implant.”

Lars wiped his eyes with the back of his arm and sniffed deeply. The scratches on his cheek were gone, and only a bit of blood remained crusted into his stubbles. He rested his head on the wall. “Does that mean that there never was a space flight? That it was all a hoax? Goddammit, who would do such a thing?”

“Well, from what I can read of your mind, your world was in a bad way. The fake space flight might have been to give the people hope even as they succumbed to the Crimson Plague.”

“And I alone was to survive?” He got up again and felt his pounding head soothe.

“Who says you’re alone? There could be more sleep pods out there. Quite an underhanded technique. My country would have been able to find a cure easily.”

Lars clenched his fists tightly and gritted his teeth. “Then if the space colony was bogus and everyone has died, do I have the least bit to return to?”

“You won’t find the answers with me. The machine that can take us home lies at the end of this factory.”

“That it does. Along with the answers to my questions.” He took the gun back out from his coat and continued down the corridor. It twisted around the factory again and brought him to more rooms with more fabricants. Lars was filled with a fire that he had not felt before. It was not the happy spark he had felt from having his gun back. The flames were fuelled by betrayal and angered inquisitiveness.

The next room they entered was cylindrical like a large, empty silo. A balcony ran along the side of the room and spiralled up to a landing at the top. Lars stepped up and heard a deep rumbling. He went back again just as a mechanical arm sprang out of the wall. A circular saw protruded from the end and buzzed loudly. The arm ran along the rail in the wall at a brisk pace.

“This just never ends, does it?”

Lars sprinted up the balcony at his own, slow pace. The arm was still somewhere above him. He couldn’t even see it at first. Only hear it. Screech. Screech. Whirr. Then the sounds came closer. The enormous saw hovered just above the metal surface and glided down towards him speedily. He had only moments to think. The saw was just in front of him. Lars jumped up into the air with unfamiliar momentum. He landed with a stagger again and looked behind him. The saw continued on its planned course with no deviation. Before it could come back around, Lars ran the last distance and took a breather on the landing at the top. The saw paused just before him and went back down.

“I hope that was it because… I think I’m going to pass out.” He planted one hand on the corridor wall and the other on his chest. His face had turned bright red and sweat poured from his brow.

“Wouldn’t we be lucky?” Greenhately asked sarcastically. “Get a move on!”

Lars’ fatigue vanished immediately and his face returned to its usual beige shade. His sweat was the only reminder of his hard work previously. “That never ceases to amaze me,” he muttered and looked at his palms. “I feel like a new man already.”

“Yes, yes, we’ve been through this before.”

The corridor was short. It took him only a few moments to clear it and enter a new dome, smaller than the last and with no additional floors. A large machine took up all space from wall to wall and cut the room in two. The middle was equipped with swing doors and the rest of the metallic bulwark was a mess of dials, gauges and switches.

Lars examined the machinery closer, and especially the consoles drew his interest. “This. This is the factory part of this factory. If we can find a way to operate it then we should find a way through.”

“Then what are you waiting for, man? Operate this thing so we can get home.”

“My home isn’t even your home. What are you getting so excited about?” he asked and investigated the console closer. Cabinets near the floor were largely empty, some containing mouldy food provisions or small, green buttons.

“Details! Any place with humans ought to better than here. I would even settle for the Middle Ages, but I’m guessing we’re a little further up in time.”

The green buttons were all broken. He screwed on their ends and extended them into long tubes, but no light flickered on. “1986 years ATG… ah, 4072 AD,” he added on top of his head and threw the useless computers to the ground. “Dammit, I guess even a thousand years was asking too much of them.”

“What exactly are you looking for?” Greenhately’s voice, as always, was filled with only feigned interest but Lars chose to ignore the tone.

“A manual would be nice. Again I find a machine foreign to me. Its design is far removed from Primasian and appears almost… crude. Look at this, only one switch on either side of the doors. I wonder what they control.”

Lars went to the right one and flipped it up. Nothing happened, so he flipped it back again. He tried the same with the left one and at once, the machine sprang to life. The pipes overhead rumbled and steam escaped several cracks in the ancient device.

“Try flipping that first one again. Looks like it did something.” Lars followed up on the spirit’s suggestion. The machine made a few coughs and the front doors slid open with a rusty grind. A fabricant sprinted out with its claws at the ready. Lars’ hand reacted quicker than he could think and took the gun from his pocket. It was his own will that aimed it. The fabricant galloped closer to him. He squeezed the bulb. A mighty beam was ejected and tore through the thing’s chest.

“I think that did it.” He didn’t give the fabricant a second glance as he passed through the opened machine. A tube in the ceiling swayed slightly, probably ready to spit out another fabricant at his command. Lars had gotten what he needed however. The doors on both sides were opened. From there, he had to go through several more corridors and rooms with fabricants. The chambers were devoid of any furniture and the walls were bare. A factory where no one worked and things were still produced.

The next dome he entered had a high temperature. He reflexively put an arm up to his clammy brow and ventured further inside. Most of the floor had been removed. Left were only two small platforms on either side of a deep lava pit. There was no visible way across it but a pony stood on the other platform near a large box with a switch.

“I am so proud that you have come this far, my friend. You are almost there.” Through the heat waves, Lars could just make out his features.

“Butterscotch Delight. Why don’t you come over here and answer some of my questions?” Standing near the edge was unbearable, even though the surface of the lava was well below him.

“Here’s a better idea, why don’t you come over here to me?” Butterscotch struggled to lower the lever. A bridge slowly shot out, but stopped a third of the way towards Butterscotch. “Oops. I am terribly sorry about that, but it would seem that the bridge is a little rusty. Perhaps you could try and jump?” Butterscotch laughed all the way to the door behind him, and his laughter still hung in the room afterwards.

“Wait, you son of a bitch!” Lars shouted and stepped out on the bridge, but had to fall back immediately. The metal surface was quick to blister his bare feet. Though Greenhately healed him, the pain lingered for a moment longer. “Dammit! How are we supposed to get across now?”

“I doubt I could keep you alive if you fell into the lava. Well I mean, there’s little I can’t do. Obviously. But you would have no way to get out and it would just be a painful Hell.”

“Thank you for the encouraging words,” Lars said sarcastically and leant up against the back wall, where the air was cooler and less choking. “You can heal me, but you can’t make me jump?”

“Healing and feats of athletics are two very different things. You’d have to move swiftly, and even I have my restricted field of expertise.”

“Swiftly, eh? Didn’t the Princess tell me something to that effect once?” A revelation dawned upon Lars, and he took from around his neck a pendant he had forgotten all about. It was a golden cross filled with beautiful gems. Holding it in his hands, it felt like it weighed nothing at all. Magic hummed silently in the palm of his hand and travelled down his arm. “Greenhately, I also need your help for this. It’s going to be painful.”

“Ugh, you still have that unseemly thing? Just because that pony princess gave it to you for saving her life doesn’t mean it works.”

“Only one way to find out.”

His whole body was coursing with magic after just a few moments. He backed away as far as he could, and then ran towards the bridge. His feet burned from the scorching metal floor but he gritted the pain back. He reached the end of the plank and jumped. It felt like he could do anything he put his mind to. He flew through the air light as the breeze. The chasm that was so wide before seemed like a puddle to him. Distance had become an illusion. His legs were powerful and every muscle worked past their capacity. He sailed through the air and landed safely on the other side. He rolled along the floor to avoid stepping on the soles of his feet.

He lay on the floor to catch his breath. The pendant was cool against his skin as he put it back under the uniform. He looked back at the lava pit and almost choked at seeing what he had done, but a smile spread across his lips nevertheless.

The corridor behind the door contained more rooms and more hallways. He was steadily moving higher and higher up. The interior never changed and remained a dull, grey stone. The fabricants waited for him wherever he went. Everywhere except for the domes. Its size was breathtaking, like the entrance hall to the other facility. This one was just cylindrical and completely empty. The door behind him clicked to indicate it was locked.

His footsteps echoed hollowly as he crossed the floor. Two statues of humans adorned the end wall, standing on either side of the door. “You crossed the lava pit and now you have come to the penultimate chamber. The machine, and the answers, that you seek are just beyond the door. But it won’t open unless you prove yourself against my Imperfect.”

At Butterscotch’s projected voice, the right statue stirred. Its body, thrice as tall as Lars, was not of stone but of metal and the wiring was revealed in several places. Its soulless eyes gleamed red and its fists were like boulders.

Lars fired the gun at the Imperfect. The yellow beam shot forth and crashed into the chest plate of the robot. It reeled for a moment before lifting a hand. A web of electricity shot from its fingers. Only Greenhately’s interference kept him from getting entangled. The angry sparks hissed on the ground for a moment and left a darkened spot on the metal floor.

“There better be a machine to take me home after this,” Lars said and fired again, this time going for the knee joints. The Imperfect didn’t stop and smashed its fists into the floor. Lars jumped out of the way, but not in time. The force rocketed him through the room. He tumbled along the ground and landed on his back. The robot steadily clunked back towards him.

“That thing must have a weakness,” Greenhately said. Whatever injuries Lars had sustained simply melted away. “And you better find it quick. Phew. I’m getting a little winded, between keeping you going and taking control of your limbs.”

“That construct is not a machine from my time. Robots were simply too impractical to blow up in scale,” Lars reasoned. His hand was still tightly wrapped around the gun. He would not let it go for any price or pain.

“Some blood would go a long way, you know. Even spirits need energy to manipulate the real world.”

“So Butterscotch must have made it a thousand years ago with little time to maintain it.” Lars scratched his chin. The Incomplete charged its fingers, like weaving an intricate carpet of electricity. Lars waited beneath it, observed it, studied it. The eyes flashed from its electrical work and the neck, otherwise cast in shadow, was illuminated for the briefest of moments. Then the web was cast and Lars’ feet threw him into the air.

“You saw it too, didn’t you?” he mumbled. The Imperfect moved again with its stiff gait.

“Even pricking yourself a little with me would… huh? Oh, the exposed wires, you mean?”

Lars nodded, a gesture which the Imperfect might have questioned had it cared. It raised a fist into the air for another attack. “I just need to shoot it there and I might be able to destroy it.” The clenched fist smashed into the ground but Lars was already running around it. It followed him and swiped at him with its long arms, but he stayed out of its distance. The Imperfect’s blank face followed him, craning its neck this way and that and exposing its weak point.

“Guide my hand!” he shouted, his hand shooting up immediately. Lars concentrated on running while the spirit controlled his arm. The gun fired a short burst. The yellow beam struck the Imperfect in its face instead. The large machine barely reacted. It raised its hand again. Bolts of lightning arced down at him.

“Switch,” Lars barked and somersaulted out of the way. “It was as a marksman that I earned my points, not on the track.” There was no response, but the ghostly feeling up his arms melted down to his legs instead. Even out of control of his feet, Lars steadily aimed the gun again. He took a deep breath and fired again.

The beam hit the Imperfect in the small space between breastplate and chin and ripped through it. The Imperfect took a single step forward and halted. Smoke billowed out of the wound, followed by streams of black oil. Electrical sparks flared up the inflammable substance and fire surged down its chest. Its arms exploded and the head flew off, rattling along the floor. Lars was standing right in front of the Imperfect and had to run fast. The burning body swayed back and forth a few times before falling down towards him.

The sound was almost deafening, coupled with the crackle and popping of wires. Then the explosions returned and blasted large holes in it back. Machinery spewed out of it like fountains gushing water. Lars breathed a deep sigh and wiped his brow. At the other end of the room, the door clicked and opened. He steeled his face and held the gun down by his side.

“Time to end this and go home,” he said resolutely and hurried across the floor. He looked up nervously at the metallic statue on the other side of the doorway. It made no attempts to come to life.

“Hear, hear!” Greenhately concurred in his mind.

The last dome was just as big as the others he had seen, but felt much smaller. The walls were thick with strange blocks of computers and machines. A few gauges and dials announced things like temperature and peak performance. In the middle was the control consoles in a half circle on a raised dais. Three panels had been elevated up to operation height of a human and beyond them were enormous screens. The glass was cracked and torn.

“You actually made it. Fabricants, traps, pits of lava, puzzles and giant robots could not deter you. Tell me, for what reason did you come?”

Lars wrested his eyes free of all the technology. It made him apprehensive just to look at it. Back on earth, he had preferred the field of combat. Butterscotch stood at the foot the steps leading up the dais. His coat was purple like wine grapes and his hair was long and silvery.

“I’ve come to stop you,” Lars said. His voice was calm from many years of military service and seeing bits of everything. “To stop you and to find a way home.”

“You think you can do either? In case you haven’t noticed, the machines here are not in the best working order. Despite my best attempts at repairing them. And even then, you would have to go through me first.” Butterscotch smirked and lowered his horn threateningly. Instinctively, Lars pointed his gun at him.

“First you tell me everything I want to know, then I kill you. How did I get here?”

“You have no idea who you’re dealing with. A thousand years ago I stole research papers from the most famous wizard ever to have lived. I acquired power beyond your tiny understanding!”

“Answer the damn question!” Lars shouted and thrust the gun further ahead. “How the Hell did I get here?”

Butterscotch looked up, grinning at Lars’ distress. “I stole the power from dozens of unwilling sacrifices until I became half unicorn, half earth pony. My cutie mark changed as well from an accursed loaf of bread to a dimensional portal fitting a stallion of my intellect better.”

“Did you… did you take me from a spaceship?” he asked nervously, though he was getting more and more aware of the answer. Butterscotch shook his head. “Why should I believe you?”

“Why should I lie to you? Brave soldier who has come so far and endured so much. My magic only allowed me to travel through space and not time. I spent months traversing the broken wasteland you call home. All I ever saw was the bleached bones of your race and the wreckage of your burnt society. I thought I’d never see a real one till I found you in your capsule.”

The news did not hit well with Lars. He could not keep the tears from pressing through and his arm shook. Still his training kept him from showing any openings. The gun did not sway from the manically snickering Butterscotch. “How…” he whispered hoarsely.

“Oh, I dreamt so badly of talking with a human but you just wouldn’t wake up! I took you back with me in hopes that you would wake up soon. But I get bored so easily,” he remarked offhandedly and roared with laughter, throwing his head back and quickly aimed his horn again. “So I took what technology I could find, bringing the facilities back with me part by part. At first I had no idea what it all was.”

“Then the machine that could create and spread the Crimson Plague?” The words had barely left his lips before he regretted asking it. Some questions were better left unvoiced.

“I found it like that, but it was largely broken. Had to fix it up a little. Did you have any more questions? I’m not in any kind of hurry, mind you, but there’s a certain satisfaction about taking someone else’s life. Even after your first dozen it never gets stale.” He licked his lips greedily. Magic fluctuated from his horn and sparkled.

“Why would you want to kill me? Didn’t you want a chance to talk with me?” He tried focusing his mind on something else. The bad information filtered through his mind and all he could feel was rage. Against his own race for their eternal stupidity, at Butterscotch for playing with him and Celestia for always keeping things from him. It manifested into a defiant and cocky smile.

“Oh, I’ve already done all those things, my friend. And let me tell you, I am not impressed with you humans. Your technology I want, but you?” A beam of light erupted from Butterscotch’s horn. Lars’ hand clenched around the bulb and fired its own beam. The two opposing forces stopped each other. The clash reverberated right back at their wielders. Lars was nearly thrown off his feet, and Butterscotch dug his hooves into the floor. One question still pressed on Lars’ mind though.

“Are there… are there others? Did you bring other humans here?” he asked. Butterscotch threw his head back and roared with laughter. His own beam flew up into the air and exploded near the ceiling. Lars fell flat on his face with his beam blasting into the opposite wall.

“You will never find them, my friend. I had bases all over Equestria. They are probably all destroyed by now anyhoo!” As soon as the beams were gone, Butterscotch reinstated them. Lars just managed to roll on his back and fire a beam of his own. Lying on his back meant he had no resistance. The force merely pushed him across the floor and crashed him into a large block of machinery.

“Oof,” he exclaimed. His vision faded for a moment. In the blackness, a quiet voice whispered in his ears.

“I do apologise, but even I have my limits. And that limit has been reached. I can’t help you anymore until I am feed with lifeblood, preferably of humans. Though I guess even these wretched ponies will do.” Greenhately slowly disappeared from his mind. A great burden kept him pinned to the floor. As he opened his eyes, he found it impossible to move. It was the sword on his back. His limbs were all his own again and Butterscotch was grinning maniacally above him, his horn inches from Lars’ jugular.

“I was asleep for so long. After all, what’s the point in running around and avoiding capture when I needed to wait anyway. And my cell was so pitifully easy to break out of once I felt you awaken.”

“Do I dare ask what you are waiting for?” Lars did not take his sight off the maddened eyes peering down at him. The back of his head was sticky with blood, but he felt no wound. Greenhately’s last gesture was the healing with not even a headache to spare. He flexed his fingers but did not feel his gun. Out in the periphery of his vision, he could see it far away from him.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. It doesn’t pertain to you anyway. Really, I am quite done with you and your despicable race.”

“Thank you for your honesty, if nothing else.” Lars drove his leg up into Butterscotch and kicked him off. The pony tumbled across the floor. Lars removed his arms from the straps that tied the claymore to his back. Before Butterscotch could do anything else, Lars smacked him in the jaw. He shook his fist and a light spray of blood stained the metal plating floor. “You ponies are awfully similar to human. Punching a real horse would be a really bad idea but with you, it’s just a bad idea.”

Lars grabbed him around the face and kneed him in the chest. Butterscotch tumbled back, and was promptly decked by a right jab. “I have a lot of frustrations to vent. I thought it was years since I last saw my family. Now I find out they’ve been dead for a millennia. That machine of yours had better work.”

Butterscotch howled with laughter and spat blood everywhere. “Celestia broke that thing a long time ago. I’ve tried, my friend! It just doesn’t work anymore.”

“You shut up!” Lars bellowed and sat down on Butterscotch’s stomach, punching his face over and over again. The more Butterscotch laughed, the more riled up Lars became. His fists pounded down on Butterscotch with the pony not trying to defend himself at all. He was waiting. Waiting and laughing. Once Lars’ motions slowed down and his breath came in ragged heaves, that was when Butterscotch moved. First he created a magical buffer. Lars tumbled off, his own fists torn and bloody. Then Butterscotch got up. Magic flowed from his horn and his cuts and bruises vanished.

“I must thank you, my friend. For making me feel more alive than I have in years. But if you are finished, then I will take my leave of you.” A beam shot from his horn and blasted into the floor. Lars rolled out of the way and landed on his gun. He scrambled to his feet. His gun fired a beam. Butterscotch almost hadn’t time to counter it. Both fighters stood firm. “Give it up. You wasted too much energy on your savage display of power.”

Lars gritted his teeth and desperately called for his spirit. Greenhately did not answer. His sword lay by the wall where had fallen, far away from any of the blood. All he had on him was a gun. He rotated the bulb and the energy output increased. Butterscotch did the same with a smirk that said he could counter any power Lars put into it. Desperately, Lars sought inside his mind for a solution. His naked feet slipped across the cold metal. A million thoughts and recent revelations clouded his thinking. The gun burned in his hand. It was nearing overheating. Weariness was overcoming him and he was all alone.

His baby daughter flashed before his eyes. She has been so young when he left her. Still he could remember her giggle and her curly hair. His wife was there as well, blowing a kiss to him from what seemed like the other side of a chasm. He was truly alone but he always remained in the thoughts of his family. Serenity washed over him. The gun grew colder. Magic poured from his hand and into the gun. The beam intensified without overpowering the batteries. The hands he felt on his own were gentle and the breath in his ear soft. A smaller pair of arms reached around his leg. He felt joy like he hadn’t experienced it millennia.

“If all you care about is power, then you will never understand love.” Lars’ face was stone as he looked at Butterscotch. “And then you will never understand true magic.”

There wasn’t even any hindrance anymore. Lars’ beam simply sliced through the other, slamming into Butterscotch. The force was so great that the room rattled. The pony was cast back and into wall behind him. He didn’t land again. A yellow bubble enveloped him tightly and kept him afloat. Surprised, Lars turned around and saw Celestia in the doorway.

“I had never expected you of anyone to realise the fundamentals of true magic. You are a blessed man, Lars Leland, and the hero of Equestria. Who knows what this madpony would have done if he had been allowed freedom much longer?”

“And you’re late. What are you even doing here?” Lars asked and put his gun away.

“Tying up the loose ends, of course.” Butterscotch bobbed gently up and down as Celestia properly entered the room.

“You knew all along that these machines were broken, didn’t you?”

Celestia looked at him indifferently. “I should. I broke them myself a thousand years ago.”

Angry tears burned hotly down Lars’ cheek. He took a step towards the Princess, but she had made no moves. “You’ve been leading me around by the nose this whole time! Why would you do such a thing?”

“Do you think I like tricking you? I don’t know who you are. You’ve been with us barely a month. What I did was what I felt necessary.”

“Then how do you justify all these errands and excursions?”

“Gather yourself, Lars Leland. Would you have been able to make it this far if you had no hope? If you had not met with a rising chain of obstacles? The fabricants would have torn you apart. Try and think for once.” She raised her voice and Lars, unable to counter her, simply looked away.

“My own people,” he began in a restrained voice. “My own people made me believe I was off colonising space. They made everyone believe that. But they only whispered blissful lies into the ears of the dying with a hand on the plug. Rather than have all of humanity perish, they instead put a select group of military officers asleep. Butterscotch found my capsule and transported me here along with God only knows how many others. He used the materials and facilities to build his own little ant farms.” Lars clenched his fists and jerked them in the direction of the middle dais. Celestia observed him calmly, like she was at the matinee and watching a performance. “Even if this damn machine worked, my race is gone. What time should I go back to? The Romans? The Celts? 21st century Japan? Everyone I knew and cared about is dead.”

“And yet you continued to fight.” Celestia calmly strode towards the raised platform. “I’ve been looking this whole time for the ring I originally used to get here. The one I gave you was the one held by the skeleton. Merely some dust clogging up the machinery. When I finally found my own ring, I thought for sure I would be too late. But trap after trap had been conquered. You even used powerful magic to defeat your foe. You used the love of your family to best him. You are resilient, Lars Leland. You are not the type to give up.”

“I don’t think I could ever trust you. I will never know if you hide something from me, like a condescending mother to her child.”

Celestia ignored the comment and looked at the three control consoles. Her magic illuminated them and a faint light flickered on inside the monitors. The machines hummed lowly, reminiscent of the droning of a sleeping beast. She smiled and looked behind her at him. “He has tried his best to repair it. I think it can handle one more transportation.”

He made his way up the stairs with a small sigh. “What’s the use? My race is gone, probably at its own hands.”

“It was never able to take something from Equestria and bring it to your world. It can only grab someone, or something, from any point of time in your world.”

Lars shrugged. “What a surprise, another thing you neglected to tell me. So I can bring anyone I want from my world, that it? From Socrates to Einstein?” Celestia only nodded, making Lars swallow a big lump forming in his throat. His cocky attitude melted away and a heavy burden made his posture sack. “Against all those people what hopes do my family have? And yet… my daughter is the one who never get a taste of life. She must have been so young. Can you bring her… can you bring Diane here?”

“Of course, but you must brace yourself for the repercussions.”

“I know, I know. She probably got a few years of life before the whole death and destruction thing, so can you take her from her oldest?”

“That is also something you would be wise to consider, but I am talking about a fundamental flaw about this machine.” Celestia’s horn lit up and the machine rumbled and harked to life. The broken screens flickered, but their images were almost unwatchable. Static flickered along the ones to the side and the middle one was almost entirely obscured by cracks and rifts. “Butterscotch never perfected it. Bringing inanimate things to Equestria was fine. Humans, on the other hand.”

“Didn’t you just tell me I could use it to see my daughter again?” A tinge of anger flushed in his cheeks but Celestia nodded her head.

“The artificial means with which this machine crosses dimensions have to adhere to the rules of the individual universes.”

“So…” Lars swallowed the frustration back in the tiniest hope of seeing his daughter. “If there was a mineral in my world that couldn’t be found here, an object made of said mineral would not be able to be transferred?”

“Not exactly. The mineral would be substituted. Humans don’t exist in our world, probably because we ponies took your place somewhere in the evolutionary chain. So whoever you bring here will become a pony. Do you still want to go through with this?”

“You knew this all along, didn’t you?” He half-laughed and pranced around the dais before punching one of the machines. Celestia didn’t answer, but her eyes softened in apology. Lars stood with his fist on the metal plating, chest heaving. “Just go ahead with it. But once this is done, then I will have nothing further to do with you. I am tired of being manipulated and kept in the dark.”

A funnel extracted from the ceiling and dangled by a long tube just above the dais. Celestia lowered it all the way to the ground so that it was just between her and Lars. With horn still glowing, she began to manipulate the control consoles. The monitors scratched and screeched. A large bulge travelled down the tube. The machines around them protested with deep moans. Cabinet doors flung open and cascaded hissing sparks down on the floor. The last working monitor burst. Smoke billowed out everywhere. The bulge slowly made its way to the funnel. The lighting died. Loud explosions tore at the machines. Fire erupted in several places. Lars crouched down with hands over his head, just as the light came back on. Celestia lifted the funnel. A tiny filly lay underneath it.

“Oh god.” Tears brimmed his eyes, and he held a hand over his mouth. “She’s so… so tiny.” He picked her up in his arms. Her mane and tail was pink, slightly lighter than her coat. She yawned and turned over in his arms.

“She is adorable,” Celestia said as she came up next to him. He gasped in joy and held the filly tightly against his chest.

“And so young. Oh god… oh god, my world must have ended shortly after I entered cryostasis. She… she can’t be more than a few years old?”

“Just a little younger than my beloved student I should think. Perhaps one day they will be friends.” Another explosion from somewhere in the facility sent ripples through the surfaces. Celestia looked concerned up at the ceiling. “We should go, Lars Leland. This place does not have long.”

The whole factory rumbled and shook. Cracks infested the dome and water seeped in. Diane started crying, so Lars held a hand over her head. Celestia enveloped them both in her wing. Her horn, adorned he then saw by a ring, glowed and they vanished. Water cascaded into the dome right after them and drowned the fires. The bubble containing Butterscotch bounced around, airtight, down in the water, left and forgotten.

CHAPTER 6 PART 3: EPILOGUE

Granny Pie had her own chamber in the castle. On her request, she had received a small one where she could only fit a bed, a wardrobe and a table with a chair. It was on that bed she rested. Her knot had been loosened and her grey hair flowed down her shawl and light pink coat. A magazine flicked itself from her magic when she heard a knock. Curious, she looked up at the door in front of her.

“Who is it?” she enquired.

“It’s me… Lars.”

“Well, isn’t this a surprise. What are you doing here at this hour?” Her magic overflowed the door and opened it. “And what is that little bundle in your hands?”

“It’s my daughter, Diane. I just got her to sleep again. Who’d know foals would be this hard to please?” He placed Diane gently down on the bed in front of Granny Pie. The little foal babbled in her sleep before smacking her lips.

“This is your daughter?” she asked suspiciously and raised an eyebrow.

“It’s… a long story.” He took an envelope from inside his suit and placed it down next to Diane. “I’ve formulated it the best I could in here. Would you give it to her when she gets old enough to understand?”

Granny Pie tore her eyes away from Diane to look up at Lars. “Going somewhere?”

He scratched his neck uncomfortably. “She’s a pony and I’m a human. I don’t know what she eats, or how to take care of her. And how do I explain everything that has happened? She’d be happier with pony parents.”

“And you don’t think I’m too old to have another foal?” Granny Pie asked coquettishly and smiled like a young filly.

“You once told me you had a son, with a family of his own? I bet Diane would fit right in. She could have all the siblings I would never be able to give her.”

“Diane is not a very ponyish name,” Granny Pie sighed after a moment’s deliberation. “And she looks so astonishingly like me. Would you object if I named her after my mother?” Lars shook his head. “So it’s settled. Your new name is Pinkamena Diane Pie.” Diane smiled in her blankets, as if she knew what was going on around her. Lars kissed her on the forehead and went back for the door.

“Take care of her for me. Maybe someday I will come back to check up on her.” He waited until he was out in the corridor and the door was closed, then held an arm up to his eyes. He sank down the wall and took a few moments to himself.

There was still one thing left for him to do. The burden of it was almost heavier than leaving his only child. He threw it down on the ground in front of Loyal Crescent. The enormous claymore, with its orange handle and purest white blade with yellow bands, made a loud thud on the stone floor. Loyal Crescent stood up from his bench on the raised platform and looked down at Lars.

“I’ve come to return the sword. The presence within it is faint, but I still suggest you keep it locked away from those of weak minds.”

“I am honoured that you would come to say goodbye to me before leaving!” Crescent jumped down from the garden platform, stepping over the sword in total disregard of it. “Mr Leland, perhaps we can part on more amicable terms?”

“I don’t know what to make of you,” Lars said in a tired voice. “You have no qualms about using me to your own ends, yet you have always been more straightforward with me than the Princess.”

“Well, at least let me show you my appreciation.” Crescent whistled, and from behind the platform came two guards pushing a human mannequin on wheels. The replica of Lars was adorned with golden armour shining in the torchlight. “See it as a sign of goodwill.”

“I… I can’t accept that.” Lars was stunned facing his cloth duplicate. It was slightly taller than he as it was raised up on wheel. He bowed down and unfastened the boots. “These, on the other hand, I will graciously take.” He was able to just step into them and they fit him like a charm. A satisfied smile crossed his lips, even making him chuckle for a moment.

“You sure you don’t want the rest? We’ll just melt it down for more pony-fitting uniforms if not.”

“These will suffice.” Lars stepped around and tried out his new boots. “My own uniform will protect me much better than yours could, but I appreciate the gesture.”

Crescent tossed his head and the guards pushed the mannequin out again. “Where will you go now?”

“Out and see if there are other frozen humans somewhere. I don’t want the last image of my best friend to be a frightening dream.”

Lars Leland turned and left the barracks. A few hours later, he was out of Canterlot as well. His adventures had only just begun and more dangers awaited him in Equestria. Those he had touched with his presence would not forget him, for better or for worse.