Gentlemen, synchronize your Friendship Watches.
Professional assassins sleep lightly. At least, the ones that remain professional assassins for very long do; the other kind don’t live long enough to get business cards made. Between the vengeful relations of former (very former) targets, those that said relations had hired, those sent out by the rich and powerful to remove potential dangers before they had a chance to pose a threat, and the occasional eager young hotshot looking to become the new “Fastest Garotte in the West”, there was no telling when someone would appear to end a contract killer’s career in a most definite way. And, as such dangers rarely kept normal business hours, the dark of the night was a popular time to make their attempts. So the assassin quickly developed the lightest of slumbers, as well as an uncanny sense of when there was another presence in their room, if they wanted to regularly see another morning.
Tirek had none of these instincts, and a millennium of solitude had left his sleeping habits completely unattuned to other creature. He snored, loudly, sunk deep in Spy’s ridiculously comfortable mattress.
The door opened. The door closed.
Something crept toward him, low across the floor. He snored on, oblivious. It raised up slightly and regarded him for a long moment, then reached out.
The feel of cold, unnatural material on his forehead brought Tirek out of his sleep. He reflexively tried to twitch away, but his head was held fast. He frantically swiveled his eyes to take stock of his attacker and…
Pyro was looming over him. No expression could be seen behind the mask as gloved hands closed around Tirek’s borrowed skull… and squeezed…
It wasn’t that he was paralyzed by fear. Certainly not. He was just… evaluating the situation.
But just as he realized the attack wasn’t actually painful, the grip lessened slightly, was repositioned, and then the careful pressure was applied once more. This went on for a few minutes, the Pyro probing at Tirek’s head, until a satisfied “Hrr” was emitted. The shapeless figure sunk back down, patting him gently on the head before dropping out of view. A moment later the door opened and closed.
Tirek stared straight ahead, waiting for his heart rate to return to a survivable level.
Some time later, after a hot shower (which itself came after judiciously moving a bookcase in front of the door; there had been entirely too many intrusions for comfort lately), Tirek stepped into the hallway, refreshed and properly dressed. All right, he thought, that was… odd, but harmless. Nothing’s changed. I just have to wait for these apes to find the rift for me, and I’ll have all the magic I’ll ever need. There’s absolutely nothing to worry about.
Which, of course, was the exact moment when he got punched in the face.
It was a powerful right cross to the chin, and it spun him around once before he collided heavily with the wall. Stars danced in front of his eyes and his mouth was suddenly filled with an assortment of tiny objects, the contents of Spy’s dental compartments having been knocked loose. He fell to the floor, staring up at the beefy form of…
“Hello, Spy!” said a cheerful voice from beneath a large helmet.
“Shoulja?” Tirek spit out a very small lockpick, a very small revolver, a full set of very small silverware plus tea service, and a very small (but curiously strong) breath mint. He felt hurt and betrayed. Mostly hurt. “Why did you-“
“Engie told me you were a wizard now!” Soldier explained loudly. “So I decided to invite you to every wizard’s favorite game: Punch Tag!”
Tirek sat up with some difficulty. “You monkeys do this for fun?!”
“Well, sure! Merasmus loves it! He’s always all ‘How dare!’ and ‘Begone, you fool!’ and ‘Stop hitting me!’ He’s a real sportsmage!”
“That sounds more like-“
But Soldier wasn’t listening. He was scribbling in a small notebook with a stubby pencil. “Let’s see, that was a Jaw-Rattler with a three-quarter twist…” He produced a metal tube and pressed a button on its side; bright light sprang from one end, which Soldier directed at Tirek’s face. The centaur flinched and raised his hand to shield his eyes. “…probably not a full concussion, though,” the human said, a bit disappointed. “Still, that’s a good fifteen points! Not bad for your first round!” He pointed at his own chin. “C’mon, your turn!”
Tirek regarded Soldier’s massive biceps, then his own. Spy’s physique was technically better toned than the centaur’s… but only when compared to his feeble, magicless form. Striking the Soldier would be like punching a wall. Which would then hit him back. “I… concede,” he said sourly.
“Hah! That’s another win to me! Forty-seven and oh!” He strode down the hallway. “See you later, buddy!”
Tirek lay there rubbing his jaw for a while, trying to close the dental compartments with his tongue. So apparently word of his true identity had spread, though it seemed that Soldier hadn’t quite understood the situation. Which was odd; he had seemed so sensible and reliable before.
Wretched monkeys! Why couldn’t everycreature just show him the respect and fealty he deserved? It would make things so much easier!
“You all right, mate?”
He looked up to find Sniper and Demoman standing over him. They were pushing carts loaded with various boxes and bottles. “I’m fine.” He managed to keep the growl out of his voice.
The lanky human grunted, then extended a hand. “Come on, then,” he said in his Horstralian accent. “We’re headin’ out in twenty, and yer blockin’ the corridor.”
Tirek took the hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. “Yes, well, have fun with that.”
But Sniper did not relax his grip, and merely smiled thinly at the former centaur. “That’s ‘we’ meanin’ all of us, mate. You included.”
His eyes widened. “Me?! You want me to accompany you back into that literal warzone?”
“Well, ‘want’ is a strong word…”
“We cannae have anythin’ happenin’ to ye, lad,” Demoman explained. His rolling tones would have marked him as a Shetland native back in Equestria. “Or, at least, to Spy’s body.”
“He’s got lots of enemies, see,” Sniper said, “and you’re defenseless as a wallaby joey. If one of Spy’s ‘associates’ shows up lookin’ for his head, it’s good night Irene.”
Tirek glared at them, feeling rather pummeled by regional dialects. “They told you about me as well, I take it.”
“Too right.” Sniper looked at his cart, chose a heavy box of ammunition that was overhanging the edge precariously, and pushed it into Tirek’s hands. “Now make yourself useful and come along.”
With a scowl and a slight wobble, Tirek filed in behind the mercenaries. “Ach, don’t be so down about it, lad,” Demoman said. “We ain’t gonna make ye fight. No point. You can stay in the supply room where it’s safe.”
He brightened up slightly. “Oh.”
The explosives expert stared into the middle distance thoughtfully. “Might have ta blow your legs off, though.”
“…what?!”
“Don’t want ye runnin’ off, now do we? Medic can fix you up a treat afterwards.”
Sniper waved this away. “Nah, can’t have him bleedin’ out. We’ll just hogtie ‘im and leave him in the van.”
“With a bomb taped to his nadgers?”
“I suppose. Just in case.”
Tirek wasn’t sure what nadgers were, but he felt a change of subject was desperately in order. “Soldier mentioned a ‘Merasmus’, I think it was. So there are other wizards here?”
The temperature seemed to drop several degrees. “Oh. Yeah. Him.”
“Skinflint bastard,” Demoman growled.
“Not fans of his, then?”
Sniper grunted. “Tries to kill us every so often. Poorly. We return the favor, o’course, but he’s functionally immortal or somethin’. Mainly just a nuisance, as long as you don’t loan him any money. He ain’t good for it.”
“We got history, him and me,” said Demoman, his single eye flashing. “Ach, but fate is both cruel and kind, an’ I suppose bein’ Soldier’s roommate for a time is punishment enough.”
Tirek frowned as he followed along. So much for that idea, then. He’s been hoping he could find a fellow mage to assist him – or, at the very least, that he could dupe into stoogedom, as he had Discord – but this Merasmus sounded singularly useless. That was unfortunate; it was likely that magic worked differently here than it did in Equestria, and until he obtained a supply of what he was used to, he’d be limited in what he could do. Learning how it behaved here would take months of trial and error, perhaps years…
“Don’t see what the big deal is with wizards, anyway,” Sniper said offhandedly. “Magic’s dead easy.”
“Hah, yeah!” The Demoman raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. “Caputus crepitus!” Then he made a kind of whooshing noise with his mouth and performed a gesture that rather effectively implied a number of targets running around on fire.
Tirek rolled his eyes. “Don’t be childish. Magic is so much more complicated than that. It takes far more than a few silly words to-“
“Nah, mate.” Sniper produced a rather ragged tome and tossed it on top of the box Tirek was carrying. “We picked these up some time back, sendin’ a couple of old codgers to the fiery pits. Only works in certain circumstances, mind, mostly of the spooky variety. But it does the job.”
The book had fallen open, and Tirek stared at the page thus revealed. The ancient and oddly angled writing was nonsense to his eyes, but not complete nonsense. He felt he could almost comprehend parts of it, like a poem being recited through a mouth not quite entirely full of marshmallows. There were images as well, arcane symbols that were on the very cusp of recognizable.
This was it. This would be his Reinsetta Stone, so to speak.
“Could I borrow this?” he asked, endeavoring to sound as meek and harmless as he could. “I… might be able to use it to find the rift.”
Sniper gave him a brief evaluating stare over his shoulder, then shrugged. “Don’t see why not. Not much use until October rolls around. Just don’t even think about-“
“Yes, yes, dead where I stand, I get the point,” Tirek said testily. “Engineer made it quite clear how thin the ice I’m standing on is. You lot think violence solves everything, don’t you?”
“Well, you know what they say, mate. Every problem looks like a nail when you can put a hammer through its skull from half a click away.”
“I’m… not familiar with that particular phrase, actually.”
“Really? Huh. Must be a regional thing.”
By the time they reached the battleground, Tirek had managed to cobble together a crude understanding of how to weave this world’s magical energy. And crude it was; he would basically have to bully the magic into doing anything. There was no room for finesse, all parts of any noteworthy spell fighting against each other unless you did it just right. Much as he despised the innate Harmony of Equestrian magic, it did make things easier in that regard.
Well, that was all right. He knew how to bully.
Reading in a moving vehicle was not something he was used to, however, and it had left him a bit queasy. There would be some time before hostilities began, so instead of taking his position in the supply room, he stepped outside to get some air, and survey the terrain.
‘Badwater Basin’, the mercenaries called it. The area outside the supply room was a pit of sorts, layers of red and gray concrete surrounding a central depression. At the center of it lay a circular hole in the ground, covered by glass. Leading to the circle was a set of tracks, though smaller than he would have expected. There was nothing at the end of the tracks to stop anything on them from continuing on, likely falling into the hole.
“It’s… a facility for destroying very small trains?” he guessed aloud.
“Toxic waste storage,” Engineer said from behind him, dropping a red metal box outside the supply room door. It began to automatically unfold itself in an unnerving fashion. “Tracks are for haulin’ it in and lowerin’ it. But carefully, since it’s volatile as hell. There’s basically a few thousand gallons of high explosives down there.”
Tirek turned and gave him a look. “I feel like I already know the answer, but is that safe?”
“’Safe’ is kind of a nebulous concept,” the human replied with a careless wave. “I solve practical problems.”
“Such as?”
“Suh as how to stop a bunch of blue-suited bastards from rollin’ a bomb down those tracks and into the vault, blowin’ the whole kit’n’caboodle sky high.”
Tirek deciphered this as best he could, regarded the glass circle for a moment, then turned to look at the door to the supply room, less than a hundred hooflengths away. “If you don’t, will I be-“ He stopped himself. “Never mind. I get it.”
Engineer grinned at him. “Still want to stay in this world?”
“I wager I’ll have a better time once I get far away from you lunatics.”
“Fair enough.” The box finished unfolding, revealing it to be a device the Engineer had called a teleporter. Tirek had tried it once, and didn’t like it. He knew it was irrational, that unicorns teleport all the time, but that was with good, sensible magic. Using this “technology” nonsense made his skin crawl. “And don’t you worry,” he added, picking up another box and walking away from the supply room. “With any luck, we’ll stop ‘em long before they get that far.”
Tirek grunted and leaned against a railing for a moment… until there was a sudden metallic clang and an expulsion of breath. He turned to see Engineer on the ground, the toolbox fallen nearby. The human scowled in confusion. “What the…”
Tirek followed his gaze to some kind of hinged metal panel. “That’s a wall,” he said helpfully.
“That’s a door,” Engineer corrected, standing up. “Shoulda opened automatically.”
“Malfunctioning?”
The device was duly inspected. “…don’t look like it,” he decided. “Security bolt’s in place. It’s locked. But that don’t make no sense, unless…” He stepped away from the door and looked out over the pit. He spied a reedy figure with its arms spread wide as it walked along a railing. “Scout!” he called. “Door’s locked! Go check it out!”
“On it!” Scout hopped to the ground and raced off, following the tracks up the ramp before vanishing around a corner.
“Is there a problem?” Tirek asked.
Engineer rubbed his chin. “Maybe. The only times I’ve seen this door locked is when BLU’s got their payload halfway down the track and managed to bypass our security protocols.” He looked up at a set of strangely-shaped devices on the wall. “But we ain’t even started yet, and the Administrator usually lets us know when things are goin’ that bad.”
Tirek had noticed the devices at previous battlegrounds. The voice of the dragon woman had emitted from them, quite loudly. “I don’t really understand how you can have scheduled battles in the first place, but perhaps they got here before you?”
The human looked troubled. “Ain’t never happened before, but…” He lifted his toolbox to his shoulder and started down the nearby stairs. “Maybe you oughta take cover, just in case.”
Tirek nodded, but before either of them could get very far, Scout reappeared and ran up to them. “Nothin’,” he announced. “Everything’s clear all the way to the other end. Didn’t see or hear nobody inside their base, neither.”
Engineer pushed back his hard hat and scratched at his temple. “Well, that don’t make no sense. What about the payload?”
“That’s just it. They ain’t even pushed it out yet.”
Several of the other mercenaries had gravitated toward the conversation. “Is problem?” the Heavy rumbled.
“Not sure,” Engineer said. “Looks like the BLUs ain’t shown up yet.”
To Tirek’s mild surprise, the prospect of not having to engage in a life-or-death battle did not improve their mood. “They are cowards!” Heavy announced angrily. “Cowards with little baby hands!”
“What the bloody hell are we doin’ here then, mate?”
“Aye, we don’t get paid for not blowin’ people up!”
“Zat could be a viable alternative business model,” Medic pointed out.
“Nah, turns out it counts as extortion. No future in it. No benefits or retirement plan.”
Engineer held up his hands to calm them. “Look, our schedule got changed late last night. The Administrator wouldn’t have done that for no reason. Let’s just give it an hour or so and see what happens. Just… keep your eyes peeled.” He looked at them all, then frowned slightly. “Where’s Pyro?”
Scout cocked a thumb over his shoulder toward the pit. “Down there, in the corner. Messin’ with some paper or somethin’.”
“Huh.” Sure enough, the bulky figure was squatting on the ground, arms working industriously and body language suggesting intense concentration. An occasional flash of brightly colored material could occasionally be seen. “…well, nothin’ else flammable around there. Should be fine.”
The mercenaries dispersed, and Tirek was left leaning against the railing once more. Fantastic. More delays. May as well get some practice in…
He held out his right hand and concentrated. “Ignus digitalis,” he whispered. He flexed certain mental pathways as he’d done a thousand times before, willing every scrap of magic this body possessed into the spell.
For long moments, nothing happened. Then a few tiny sparks of light rose up from his fingers, vanishing in an instant.
Well, that was still better than he’d hoped. But honestly, spoken casting? For such an insignificant cantrip of a spell? What was he, a foal? This place would have him inscribing magic circles with chalk next. It was amazing these creatures had managed to survive so long, working with such natural limitations. Of course, they’d apparently compensated in other ways, ways that kept inexplicably putting his life in danger. Given all the possible dimensions he might have found himself stranded in, it was just his luck that it was this one...
Then the wind shifted, and his hand blossomed into a rising cascade of green motes of light.
He stared at it for several seconds, then moved it around a little. The motes grew more numerous closer to the ground, fewer as he raised his hand up.
Tirek dismissed the spell and shook his arm, scattering the remaining motes. He looked out at the pit, where a fresh breeze was carrying with it something quite familiar.
He descended the nearby stairway, then closed his eyes and took a long deep breath. Yes… this body lacked the thaumic receptors of his own, but there was definitely a… not a smell, not a taste, not even a feeling per se, but a sensation of magic in the air. He stepped forward, every fiber of his being reaching out to find the source.
One by one the mercenaries noticed his odd behavior, and converged on his position as he moved. Tirek was drawn across the concrete, and ended up, as he’d suspected, at the glass-covered hole in the ground.
They peered down into it, and for long moments there was no sound. Then Pyro broke the silence by emitting a rough approximation of what they were all thinking: “Hrr.”
Below the glass cover, barrels had been stacked into a haphazard pile, green and slightly glowing. And a short distance away, something else was glowing, in a strange yellow and pink light that seemed oddly out of place. It was hard to look at directly.
“Very interesting…” Medic murmured, peering closer.
“Aw, man, I knew it!” Scout exclaimed. “I toldja this would happen! You leave this much radioactive crap alone long enough, it starts turnin’ into slime monsters! I seen it in a movie. Pretty soon it’s gonna climb up and start eatin’ everyone’ faces!” He prodded the glass with his bat. “This is gonna be so cool.”
“That’s not like any slime monster I’ve ever seen!” countered Soldier. “And I’ve seen my fair share. They usually have more…” He waved a hand vaguely, looking for the word he wanted. “…slime! Besides, radiation is good for you!”
“Hey, I ain’t knockin’ radiation, but that stuff down there, y’know, smells funny. Like stale corn chips and… phenomenons.”
“That is the smell of corporate freedom, maggot! That is the smell of AMERICA!”
“And grape juice.”
“You all right there, mate?” Sniper asked, looking at Tirek.
The former centaur was standing with his arms splayed out and his eyes closed, and was taking in deep breaths of air. “It’s here.”
“What’s here?”
“Can’t you feel it?” He laughed. “No, of course you can’t. Hardly a thaumosensitive nerve in your bodies, you poor benighted things. Even I can barely tell in this wretched body.” He opened his eyes and stared hungrily down at the light. “It’s magic. And a good amount of magic at that!”
Engineer looked at him sharply. “Then that’s…?”
Tirek nodded. “It’s the rift! I’m sure of it!”
The human considered the light through his goggles for a long moment, then slowly lifted his head to the loudspeakers perched on the wall. Medic followed his gaze and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It is hardly unusual zat she is a few steps ahead of us,” he noted.
“Yeah, but… coulda said something instead of leavin’ us guessin’, is all. We ain’t her puppets to be danced around.”
“I suspect she has a different opinion on that score,” the doctor replied dryly. He laid a comforting hand on Engineer’s shoulder. “Come, my friend. Let us not put ze horse in our mouths, ja? It is here, und so are ve.”
“Hmph. S’pose so. Best make the most of it.”
For his part, Tirek was on his knees, scrabbling at the glass cover (it was actually plexiglass, but Tirek didn’t know and wouldn’t care if he did). There was a seam down the middle of the cover, but it was closed too tightly to pry open. “I have to get down there,” he growled. “There must be a way…”
The largest mercenary gestured toward a corner of the pit. “Heavy thinks there is-“
“Silence, oaf! I must concentrate!”
Heavy didn’t quite glower at the former centaur. He just gave a little nod, as of a decision being made. Tirek entirely failed to notice it.
“This would be foal’s play in my own body,” he muttered. He seemed to remember Sniper’s tome, which he’d laid down next to him. Picking it up, he leafed through it hurriedly. “I think there was… yes, yes! Here it is!” He stretched out a hand, and faint light began to coalesce around it. “Latchus exbarium!”
The light flowed weakly downwards and poured into the cover, which rattled for about two seconds before falling still.
“Bah! Not quite right. Obstaculos liberato!”
Three seconds, but still completely failing to produce useful results.
The mercenaries watched as he stomped out onto the cover, continuing his attempts. Finally Engineer shook his head. “C’mon, fellas, may as well go have a look at that thing ourselves.”
They followed him to a nearby door which led to an access stairway. Heavy was (as was usually the case) the last in line, and before entering turned to give Tirek another look. The former centaur was shouting now, at his wits’ end. “Ingretio revicus! Ocknay ocknay! Openzio sesamico! Blast it all! Aperturum triumphus!”
Heavy pressed a button on the wall just inside the stairwell. Klaxons blared and lights flashed, and the cover began to open, its two halves sliding apart. Tirek raised a fist in victory. ”Yes!” Then he realized, at a point where it was too late to do anything about it, that he had one foot on each half. “…no!” There was a brief pinwheeling of arms as his legs went in opposite directions, and then he dropped into the green and fetid abyss with a shriek. There was a clatter of flesh and bone on steel drums, followed by a heartfelt groan.
With a very small smile, Heavy trudged downward.
“…und while I can easily repair ze broken bones und contusions und residual radioactive exposure,” Medic said, the red glow from his medigun contrasting with the other light sources in the room, “I am afraid only time can heal your dignity.”
Tirek glared at him as he stood up. “Thank you,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Although,” the doctor continued, “I have been considering a rather… controversial procedure to try out, if you’d like to-“
But he wasn’t listening, his whole attention locked onto the shining ball of pastel light before him. The mercenaries joined him, again somewhat at a loss for words. Scout broke the silence. “So, this is what a, a rift looks like?”
Tirek nodded, his entire borrowed body tingling in anticipation.
“If this is a rift,” Sniper interjected, “then why ain’t there stuff goin’ through it? It’s just sittin’ there.” He reached out toward it, but a large pink spark leapt between the rift and his finger, and he pulled it back with an oath.
“It’s the resobaric pressure,” Tirek explained absently. “The natural laws of our dimensions are so different, even contradictory, that any breach between them is sealed nearly shut by the force of both worlds trying to encroach on each other. The walls of reality itself clench around it, like a… a…”
“Sphincter!” Medic suggested helpfully.
“…I suppose.”
The mercenaries fell silent once more, processing this information. “…then this,” Scout said finally, “is a Butthole Between Worlds.” Tirek rolled his eyes and tried to focus again, but Scout was not to be denied such a rich opportunity. “And you got here by… climbin’ right into that Butthole. Just crammed yourself through.”
“No, fool! With the magic I had available, I could only force it open the slightest amount. That’s why my body was left behind and I was forced to mentally trade places with your colleague.”
Scout nodded sagely. “Riiiight. Only really small things could get through.”
“Precisely.”
“Like your brain.” The others had kept their composure up to now, but this comment caused a definite rash of snickering.
Tirek growled. “My mind. Because a mind isn't a physical-”
“Just… shoved your brain as deep into that Butthole as you could.”
“Stop calling it that!”
Engineer stifled another chuckle. “All right, all right. You got your rift, Tirek. Can ya get us Spy now?”
He sneered. “Simplicity itself.” And then, I’ll show these cretins who they’ve been dealing with…
He spread his arms and with an effort of will called up a circle of glowing blue energy around him. Mystic runes blossomed along its circumference and energy coalesced in his palms. With a powerful gesture, he reached for the rift and pulled it wide, leaving a pulsating gateway to Equestria.
…or, at least, that was what he intended to happen.
Nothing actually changed within the sight of mortal man or centaur. As far as the mercenaries could tell, Tirek wiggled his arms for a while and then stopped. "Is, uh... is that it, lad?" Demoman asked cautiously.
Tirek looked down at his hands, then at the rift. "Uh... just warming up." He repeated the gestures, more slowly this time and with a certain amount of muttering. The results were equally significant, which is to say not at all.
Scout never let an idea go once it started rolling. "C'mon, just stick your finger into that Butthole and-" Heavy laid a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. The smaller man scowled but relented.
"I take it there's a problem?" Engineer said.
"...there shouldn't be," Tirek replied, staring at the rift. "It should be working! I've been planning this out in my head for moons! The glow you see is the magic left behind the last time it was closed." He whispered two words, and his hand blossomed into green motes. "I was able to open it from the other side, however slightly, with mere scraps of magic. There's more than enough here to open it even wider! So why isn't it happening?!"
"Can't help ya there. Sorry."
Tirek attempted his spell twice more, then took a step back, clutching at his head in frustration. "This is maddening! I'm so close!"
The mercenaries exchanged glances, at a loss. Then one of them stepped forward and tapped his arm. Tirek whirled around with a snarl. "What?!"
Pyro stood there, expressionless as ever but with body language that radiated concern. Rubber gloves held out a brightly wrapped box tied with a ribbon.
"Oh. Is that for me?" Tirek asked, the very picture of insincere appreciation. Pyro grunted and nodded, only to have the package slapped to the floor. "Get that away from me, you simpleton!"
The mercenaries watched as Pyro retrieved the package. Their reaction wasn't overly emotional, but it was there nonetheless, painted in subtle shades. "Pyro was just trying to mend fences, fella," Engineer said quietly. "No need to take it out on-"
"Be silent!" Tirek raged, slamming his fist down on a barrel. Amid the echoing metallic noise it made, the contents let out a concerning blorp and fizzed for several seconds before subsiding. The mercenaries took an involuntary step back.
Tirek gauged their reaction, then looked at the barrels again, a feeling of dread rising within him. "What... what did you say was in these, again?"
"Ehn, all sorts of gross crap," Scout said. "Toxic waste, chemicals, radioactive goo..."
"Yes, this... radiation, you called it," he persisted. "What is it?"
"Well, to put it simply," Engineer said, "it's the natural process of atomic decay you get from certain minerals. They break down into a different element, and give off energy that can be absorbed by surrounding objects. This energy is dangerous to living things, but the Medic can set us right."
"That is a Commie lie!" Soldier announced. "Radiation builds a better future for everyone! It's called a nuclear family for a reason!"
"...infectious energy that can be..." He stopped, and looked at the rift. If he watched closely, the pink and yellow light was, very fainly, shot through with streaks of green.
He regaded at his right hand, still glowing, then raised his left and concentrated. Nothing happened. "...no... it can't be..."
"What is it?"
"The Equestrian magic... it must have undergone resonant tempering, conforming to the local field. That normally takes centuries, but your 'radiation' has contaminated it and sped up the process! It doesn't follow the laws of its home dimension anymore! It's part of this world now!"
The mercenaries looked at each other. "Sounds like a bunch of made up guff," Sniper opined. "Okay, the magic's gone native. So what's the problem?"
"The problem is I can't work it using my own spells! I'm going to have to learn this world's magical laws first, and well enough to perform an interdimensional working! That could take decades!"
Demoman stepped forward and grabbed him by the front of his jacket. "That ain't good enough, laddie. We want Spy back right now!"
Tirek slapped his hand away angrily. "Do you think I don't want to oblige?! I don't like this situation any more than you do!"
The human snatched the tome from the ground and pushed it into Tirek's arms. "Then you'd best get on it. You say decades? You got ten minutes."
"You're being very unreasonable," the former centaur shot back. With a frown, he contemplated the rift once more, then flipped through the tome a few times. On the bright side, the initial spell had been necessarily simplified so that the pegasus filly could use it without the benefit of a unicorn's horn. And the dimensional tunnel was still there, so opening it would be even easier than establishing it in the first place. There would be a lot of corners to cut, possibly some unforeseen consequences, but they would be better dealt with after he had his body back. It was a slim chance, but better than nothing.
He sighed and threw the last of his dignity out the window. "...does anyone have any chalk?"
A strange sound came down through the open cover above them, a sort of blaring noise like a sick goose. Tirek didn't recognize it, but the mercenaries all craned their heads upward. "Who is that?" Heavy asked.
"I'll go check!" Soldier aimed his rocket launcher downwards.
"Whoa there, son!" Engineer said quickly. "Not next to the barrels. Let's use the stairs." He looked at Tirek, then exchanged glances with Medic. "Anyway, I got a feelin' I know who's up there..."
By the time they climbed the stairwell and stepped back into the sun, a white vehicle was carefully rolling down the ramp. It was smaller than the van, with an open basin in the back rather than a large box, and there Tirek's interest in it faded. Of more significance was the driver, who waved to them as she approached. He recognized her immediately from... Grogar's beard, was it just two days ago? It felt like years. "Hey, guys!"
Scout immediately took some steps forward and grinned. "Miss Pauling!"
The female stopped the vehicle and got out, looking over the mercenaries. She noticed the open cover, and it would have taken someone far more capable than Tirek at detecting social cues to notice the moment of hesitation and mental recalibration. "Oh, you guys found it. That's great!" She looked at Tirek, a bit warily. "So did we get Spy back, or...?"
"Not yet," Engineer said. "Bit of a snag. And no offense, but is there any point to askin' how y'all found out about all this?"
She gave him an apologetic smile. "What do you think?"
"Thought not," he said with a stoic nod. "Anyway, Tirek says he can't bring Spy back until he gets more familiar with our kind of magic."
"Oh. Well, not to worry," she said as the door on the other side opened, "I brought a consultant."
Engineer's scowled. "Aw, hell... don't tell me..."
"FOOLS!"
Tirek sensed the figure before he really saw him. There was a tangible aura of magic around him, one that was clearly lost on the other humans. He found himself unconsciously bracing for the presence of a master sorcerer... but when he stepped into view, his actual physical appearance left quite a lot to be desired. From his tattered robe to his staff that was barely more than a tree branch to the ridiculous skull he wore as a hat, it seemed that wizardry did not pay very well in this realm. Still, he had a decent bearing about him, and stood dramatically as he surveyed the mercenaries. One could almost hear thunder in the back ground, and faint organ music.
He made a sweeping arcane gesture. Tirek gave it a grudging seven out of ten. "It is I, Merasmus! Cower and tremble before me! Beg for my-"
This nonexistent music was metaphorically cut short when Soldier punched him in the jaw. "Hello, Merasmus!"
Merasmus staggered back, falling against the vehicle and clutching at his chin. "Curse you, Soldier! Stop doing that!"
"C'mon, your turn!" He proffered his own chin.
"Bah, get away from me, you lackwit!"
"Forty eight and oh! I am on a roll!"
Merasmus glared at Soldier venomously, then strode forward, a red welt growing on his face. He drew himself up, trying (without much success) to regain his lost dignity. "The mighty Merasmus has been informed that his vast arcane knowledge is required! But beware, brief mortals - such knowledge comes at incredible price! Yes, even unto your very souls!"
"Yeh, right," Sniper snorted. "You must be in deep with someone nasty again if you're workin' for the Administrator."
"FOOL! The great Merasmus is beholden to no mortal authority!" Then he deflated just a little bit. "...but if I don't get fifty large to the Norwegian Mafia by the end of the month, Don Bjornsen is going to have me, in his words, 'feasting with the Einherjar'. So cut me some slack, okay?" The organ music came back. "Who is it that would suckle on the teat of my intellect?"
The mercenaries made a series of retching noises.
"I have no intention of suckling anything," Tirek said, his opinion of this 'wizard' dropping by the moment.
Merasmus turned to look him up and down. "So, this is the poor lost wandering soul who's gotten himself stuck in our little corner of the multiverse?"
"Uh, yeah," said Engineer. "This here's Tirek-"
"Lord Tirek." He crossed his arms, feeling instinctively that this human mage needed to know his place. "And I'm hardly stuck. But the magic here is so weak and unrefined it would take far too long for me to cobble together a real spell." Something made him add, "Do take care of it, there's a good chap."
The human's eyes narrowed. "Oh, I take it you're from one of the mana-rich realms. How... lucky for you."
"...meaning?" He didn't much care for the shift in Merasmus' tone.
"Nothing! Nothing at all! It's just that it must be quite nice to have all the magic you could ever want handed to you on a silver platter. Never having to work for anything."
Tirek took an angry step forward. "Now, see here...!"
"Don't you worry yourself..." Merasmus treated him to a sneer. "...my Lord. The magic here might not be up to your lofty standards, but it gets the job done."
"Hmph. Very well."
"...when handled with the proper skill."
The mercenaries watched as Tirek bristled. Scout produced a bag of popcorn from somewhere and passed it around.
(Completely unnoticed, something dropped down from the cabin of the pickup. It looked around itself furtively, then scurried into the shadows on legs it shouldn't have had.)
"How dare you take that tone with me!"
"The dread sorcerer Merasmus takes any tone he pleases!"
"'Dread sorcerer!' Hah! An entire country quakes at the mere mention of my name!"
"And yet here you are, begging for help! In another man's body, I might add!"
"Oh, and I suppose you've never suffered through a magical switcheroo!"
"It's called a Freaky Friday and don't talk to me about suffering! At least Spy knows what personal hygiene is! I was swapped with Soldier for three days! The things that man does to his body...!"
"All right, knock it off!" Miss Pauling stepped between them, pushing them apart forcefully. "Merasmus, you have a job to do, so do it!"
"Fine by me!" he snarled. "Where's this so-called 'rift'?"
"Down in ze storage vault," Medic said with a gesture.
Merasmus peered over the edge and grunted, then looked at Tirek. "You. Stand over here." He pointed to a spot a few feet away from the hole.
Tirek glowered at him but complied, and watched as Merasmus fished something out of a pocket and crouched down. he sneered. "We're using chalk, are we? Truly you are a master of the arcane."
The human paused in his scribbling and looked at the off-white stick in his hand. "Er... yes. Chalk..." He rallied. "...made from the bones of Saint Froederick, patron of those seeking to be rid of irritants. Now, be silent, and we'll have you back home in no time." He began to mutter as he drew. "Ego te non dimittam... ego numquam confundas te..."
"Hmph! See that you-" He stopped suddenly. "Er... you mean... back home in my body, right?"
"Ego numquam currere per circulos et te deseram... hm?" Merasmus looked up. "Well, yes. The request was for a standard unfreakification. Minds put back in the proper bodies."
"But you'll bring my body here first?"
Puzzled, the human stared at him, then at Miss Pauling.
She scratched the back of her head awkwardly. "Yyyyeeah, about that." Her hand came around, and it was holding a pistol, which she aimed at Tirek. "See, the Administrator wants Spy back as our number one priority. We don't really care what happens to you yourself. Sorry." She shrugged, but her weapon remained steady.
He took an angry step forward, but stopped when a pair of shotguns were also leveled at him, held by Pyro and Heavy. "But... all you have to do is bring my body over, and then swap us back! I'm sure I could be of great use to you!"
"The Administrator doesn't really like to deal with magic," she explained, shaking her head. "It's too... what's the word she uses? Untidy for her tastes."
In desperation, he turned to the mercenaries. "My... friends," he said, though the word was ashes in his mouth, "surely you don't want to leave me trapped for another thousand years?"
He was mostly met with blank stares. "You, uh, ain't exactly put yourself forward as bein' someone we want to have around, pardner," Engineer said finally. "No offense."
"I do not like you," Heavy said plainly. "You are full of lies and vomit."
"'Sides," Engineer added, "ain't really up to us. Maybe you and Merasmus can work something out."
Tirek's gaze slowly and reluctantly moved to the human wizard, who gave him a smile. "Oh," he said as sweetly as he could manage, "I'm sure we can come to a... mutually beneficial arrangement."
"What are your terms?" Tirek growled.
"Nothing too onerous, I think. A century or two as my familiar seems like fair compensation."
He sputtered. "For a simple corporeal transference?!"
"It's a seller's market, after all." Merasmus tapped his wrist, for reasons Tirek was far too annoyed to puzzle out. "Tick tock."
Tirek clenched his teeth and tried to think clearly. Two hundred years of indignity? That was nothing, compared to what was waiting for him in Equestria. He could do two hundred years on his head. And there was always the possibility of ending his servitude early, one way or another...
"Fine. You have a deal."
"Hah! Done and done." Merasmus turned back to his work. "Ego numquam tristis es..."
...but there was still such a thing as getting your licks in. "Is this how transference spells are done here? How... quaint."
"Silence," Merasmus muttered.
"Oh, no, don't get me wrong! I'm so very impressed at how you manage to do so much with so little."
"I'm not listening..."
Tirek hmphed and examined the arcane glyphs inscribed around the edge of the circle. Two in particular caught his attention, and he scowled. His understanding of this world's magic might be incomplete, but even he could spot such an obvious error. "And Grogar's beard, just look at this! You've even gone and transposed-" He stopped suddenly, clapping his hand over his mouth.
"Ego numquam vale..." Merasmus paused and looked at him. "What was that?"
"Hm? Oh. Nothing. Carry on. You're doing an excellent job."
The human gave him a suspicious look, but returned to his work, finishing the last of the symbols. He took position between the circle and the vault, raising his staff dramatically. Thunderclouds began to coalesce overhead, green lightning dancing among them. "Ego numquam dico mendacium et nocuerunt tibi!" he screamed. "Bozkorbos inflagrante! Open, sphincter between realities! Merasmus commands it!" He slammed his staff down, and a single huge bolt of viridescent electricity stabbed down from the clouds and into the vault itself. The mercenaries and Miss Pauling took several steps back, but it seemed the lightning had struck true, hitting the rift and not any of the volatile barrels around it.
The chalk circle around Tirek began to glow with an inner light, slowly becoming brighter. "There," Merasmus panted. "It is done." He smiled at his soon-to-be familiar. "I look forward to working with you, my Lord."
And Tirek...
...laughed.
A chuckle, then a guffaw, then a full-throated maniacal cackle. The assorted humans looked at each other in confusion. Then Tirek lifted his head and smiled at Merasmus, the now-bright light from below giving his appearance an unpleasant cast. "Thank you so much... you fool!"
Then a second bolt of lightning split off from the first and arced directly into him. He screamed in agony... and vanished.
The clouds and lightning dispersed, and for long moments all eyes were locked on the chalk circle, where a patch of rising smoke marked the place Tirek had been standing.
Then Engineer surged forward and grabbed Merasmus by the robe. "You killed him, you son of a bitch!" he growled.
"I... I didn't...!"
"Medic can't bring his body back from that!" He paused and looked at the German, who thought for a moment but shook his head. "You done left Spy trapped in that other world, and for what? Because Tirek was bein' mouthy?!"
"I'm telling you, it's not my fault" Merasmus protested. "Everything was going exactly as it should!"
"I've 'eard that one before," Sniper said.
Scout nodded. "Yeah, gettin' a real case of Dijon mustard here."
"You can see for yourself!" Merasmus said, gesturing at the circle. "Or could, if any of you actually read those tomes you got instead of only using them for mayhem! My spell was-" He stopped, and looked at the circle again. He muttered under his breath, and then paled. "Oh. Oh." He looked up at the mercenaries. "...oh dear."
"What did wizard do?" Heavy asked menacingly.
Merasmus touched his index fingertips together. "I... may have put these two symbols in the wrong order." He tapped them with his staff. "Corpozik and Intekos. You, uh, will note that they're very similar..."
"Get to the point," Engineer demanded.
"Weeeelllll... instead of 'mind to body', the spell is now a transference of 'body to mind'. Which means..."
The Texan pushed him to the ground. "Meaning we're gonna have Spy get his body back, in the other world? And Tirek's gonna be here with his own?"
"...that does seem likely, yes." He saw the mercenaries ready their weapons. "But not to worry! Once this transference is complete, I can bring Spy here easily enough!"
"Aye," Demoman said with a glare, "ye damn well better, unless ye wanna give that immortality a real stress test."
"Er... yes. Understood. I'll just... go and get ready, shall I?" He reached into his robe again and pulled another stick of chalk from its cardboard box.
"Bloody wizards," Sniper muttered.
"Well, as long as we get Spy back," Miss Pauling said, "I guess it's fine."
"Yeah," Scout said, inching closer. "And maybe after this... we... you and I... y'know... could go... do..." He hesitated. "...stuff."
She gave him a look that was part pity, part exasperation, and perhaps a very, very small part affection. "I do sometimes do... stuff," she agreed. "But I'm sure the Administrator will want me back as soon as this is over."
"Oh. Yeah. Sure. Maybe next time."
"Yeah. Maybe next time."
Engineer shook his head, then sauntered toward the original chalk circle. He watched the smouldering patch for a moment. "How long is this gonna-"
Lightning leapt out of the vault and struck the center of the circle, knocking Engineer off his feet. It danced there for a moment, then there was the sound best described as a Doppler-reversed scream and a bright flash of light. A wave of displaced air buffeted the mercenaries as something appeared in the circle... and began to laugh.
The mercenaries all had their personal musings what Tirek looked like in his own body. Few of their concepts came anywhere close to the mark, and absolutely none of them thought that when he arrived, they'd have to look up. He stood a good twelve feet tall, sable and bright scarlet, with muscles not even Soldier could boast. "At last! At last! Free from that dismal prison! Admittedly, it's only been a few years, but it's the principle of the thing."
"My God, men," Soldier announced, "he's naked! Prepare to counterattack!" He ripped open his jacket.
"Oh, no need to fret, gentlemen," Tirek said, smirking down at them. "I bear you... well, some ill will, but I'm willing to let bygones be bygones."
"That's... right neighborly of ya, pardner," Engineer said, never lifting his hand from his shotgun.
Tirek laughed again. "I just can't get over how small you all are! I thought you would be about the same size as me, but look at you!" He reached out a hand, and their weapons were raised higher. "I could just squish you with-"
Then he stopped and stared at his hand, lifting it to his face and turning it back and forth. "What... is... this?" he said, his voice filled with amazement.
"Um... s'called a hand," Scout offered. "You got two of 'em."
Tirek looked down at himself. He flexed, and admired the muscles that rippled under his skin. A grin slowly spread across his face, and he laughed once more. "Oh, my hooves and horns! Your Spy has been taking very good care of my body, it seems! He's fed! And fed well! I wonder how he managed that?"
"What d'you mean, 'fed'?" Sniper asked.
"Allow me to demonstrate!" Merasmus had been slowly backing away ever since Tirek reappeared, but now the centaur reached out his hand toward the wizard. His mouth gaped wide, a miniature sun glowed between his horns, and a current of energy flowed out of Merasmus and into that vast maw. The human staggered, and Tirek grew slightly larger. He made a face. "Tastes like muck. But power is power!"
"Enough of this!" Merasmus reclaimed his footing and raised his staff. "Back to your own world, foul interloper! The mighty Merasmus banishes you! POLOKO ZARBO!"
Nothing happened. Tirek grinned down at him.
"...Brizbo rakatrumus" Merasmus tried, to an equal lack of effect. "Jabooki splort! Hubihaba balabanaza!" He looked down at himself. "What... what have you done? My magic! It's gone!"
Tirek sneered. "It belongs to me now! Be glad if it's all I take from you!"
Mersasmus fell back, staring up at Tirek in horror, then scrambled away.
"All right, you've had your fun, fella," Engineer said with a frown. "Can't say he didn't deserve that. But he was our only ticket to gettin' Spy back, so you'd best take care of it, if you'd be so kind."
There was, at least theoretically, an alternate universe where Tirek complied with this request, brought Spy back to his own world, and was left alone to complete his master scheme. Whether or not the story of that world came to a happier ending would be up for speculation. Certainly Equestria wouldn't have enjoyed it. But either way, that world was not this one.
"You would dare make demands of Lord Tirek?"
"Just a polite request. For now."
Scout placed himself between Tirek and Miss Pauling. "You better get out of here," he said over his shoulder. "This could get ugly."
She gave a quick nod. "Right. Good luck." She turned toward her pickup... but stopped when the door slammed and it roared to life. The driver, a familiar skull perched on his head, performed a three-point turn and drove up the ramp. "My truck!" she shouted, and ran after it. A moment later there was a crash as the pickup plowed through a chain-link fence gate.
Soldier fired a rocket at his feet, launching himself up to the platform above. He joined Miss Pauling as she helplessly watched her truck recede into the distance, then produced a pair of binoculars and peered through them. "...it's all right, Miss Pauling!" he said. "Merasmus is just giving himself some room to support us from a distance! A lot of distance!"
"And why should I do anything you ask me to?" Tirek demanded.
"See?" Soldier continued. "He's rolled down the window to cast a spell!"
"Well," Engineer said, "if y'all don't, we might have to get downright... impolite."
"...I can't quite make out what kind of spell it is..."
"You are dangerously out of your league, little monkey!"
"...but it only involves the use of one finger." Soldier lowered his binoculars and watched the white dot vanish over a dune with a puzzled look, then waved. "Goodbye, Merasmus!"
"I reckon we'll have to see about that. Soldier!"
He vaulted over the railing with one hand, and held on long enough to reduce his fall. The mercenaries squared up behind Engineer, weapons at the ready. "You've seen us fight, Tirek, but you ain't never fought against us. It's about time we really show you who you're dealing with."
"Funny," Tirek said with a sneer, "I was thinking the same thing!" The little sun between his horns flared to life again, but this time a lance of flame erupted from its surface, scything across the team. The mercenaries dove for cover, then responded in kind.
Tirek raised a barrier around himself just before a sniper round caught him in the head. He reached out and telekinetically seized a rocket and two pipe bombs, pushing them to the side and causing them to strike the wall behind him, exploding in a shower of concrete. He picked up a chunk of stone and rebar and hurled it at the team.
Heavy stepped forward. "Doctor!" A quick ÜberCharge turned his skin into scarlet metal, and the concrete shattered harmlessly. The mercenaries renewed their assault, and the barrier quickly began to show cracks.
The centaur scowled. He had power, but not enough for a sustained combat; he needed to end this now. "Enough!" he roared, gathering all the energy he could spare and sending it toward them in a single raw burst of magic. It exploded in their midst and...
He stopped and stared at what he'd done for several seconds. "That," he said, bemused, "is not what I expected to happen."
The battle was abruptly over, and the mercenaries were in no state to continue it.
Freed of distractions, Tirek turned his attention back to the vault. With the power he had remaining, he could indeed open the gate and bring his target through... but he would only get one shot at it. He would have to get it right the first time.
After all, someone had to save poor little Cozy Glow from Tartarus.
A circle of blue glyphs appeared around him, and he began to concentrate.
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YES! I did not realize you were back. I've been wanting to finish the series forever thank you, pony Jesus
Ooh, what a fascinating turn of events! I can't wait to see how Spy is faring...
That was inevitable
Nice to see Tirek being shown in a competent manner. He was probably one of the more intelligent MLP villains, after all. Its also nice to see how he is doing after so long.
So he does care. How sweet.
WE ARE SOOOO BAAACK BOIS
11792888
LETS FUUUUUKKKKIN GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
i cant believe i got rickrolled in latin by an mlp/tf2 crossover fanfic in 2024
11792951
The classics never die.
Huh. I'm surprised Tirek cares.
The mercs's voices sounded pretty flawless.
Soldier and Medic must have been particularly mind-bending to write for.
And it sure is interesting to see that even Tirek can appreciate Cozy's "charms".
Unless he just wants a convenient magic battery nearby.
MERASMUS WILL CAST HIS ULTIMATE SPELL!!! WITNESS MY ONE FINGERED CASTING!!!
FUCK YOU!!! 🖕🏻
drives off with the van
Oh.
Tirek killed them all.
That was unexpected.
Hallelujah! A new chapter!
Well, that's pretty intriguing. It remains only to find out what happened to the Spy at that moment.
P.S. Marasmus's farewell spell is just a masterpiece! I think we're all a bit of wizards in this regard)))
11793030
*puts on hard hat*
"Spah Fellow Engineer round here!"
Why do I sense that you also played on Pony Fortress 2 servers back in the day ?
11793243
Can't say that I did, I'm afraid. Never was much for the modded servers.
I was sure that at least Heavy with an Ubercharge could survive the explosion and continue the fight
11792844
She's his minion and protégé after all bad form as an evil overlord to leave them to rot in tartarus
Wait, he has a bunch of pony magic he just threw at them undirected. If we're reading the room right, we're about to have more equine shapes to deal with over in human land than just Tirek....
That's great, just when he's making progress with Cozy she's going to get stolen from him. Starlight will not be happy.
11793234
Spy is in a cage in his own body in Equestria, specifically Tartarus.
Still surprised how he even managed to stay alive for that long especially with that Thing around
Awww! He does care!
Wonderful to see, I was very curious how magic would go on the TF2 side and it's pretty great!
Ahhh so glad this is still updating. A great chapter, looks like we're going into the final act!
OH YEAH BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This was such a great fic to read during some flights, it instantly grabbed me and didn't let me go until the end. Great work.