The Calmest Waters Often Hide the Deepest Depths - Part Two
The Present...
There's no way you could possibly understand.
All of that time filled with meaningful work, love, and enjoying life... and I'm just now realizing that it was all a farce, that none of those things happened to me at all. Two hundred and thirty one years, or more than 85,000 days of complete and total falsehoods.
How does one begin to describe how I'm feeling right now? How?
"Honoré..."
The name is choked out of me. This is what I've been reduced to for the last ten minutes. Each time I try to say something, anything, I can barely muster any sort of coherency.
I open my eyes for the first time since I began dealing with this anguish that's engulfed me. They are incapable of shedding tears, and yet they're too clouded up to function normally. I try to fight my way past that, to restore them enough that I can see where I am right now.
But it's not my eyes that are telling me that something's wrong. It's my hands.
I've had them clutching my knees while I've been pouring out my emotions. My armor is the perfect weaving of metal and synthetic cloth. I dimly recognize a recent memory of a pony in a police uniform---such an adorable thing---telling me that the sensation was like steel wool.
I'm not detecting that sort of sensation beneath my hands right now. Just the gentle cloth of my... what was it? A bodysuit? ...No, a jumpsuit.
Something I can't explain catches in my throat. I might have gotten into the habit of removing my helmet during peaceful moments---and this must be where that odd familiarity came from---but I never, never remove my boots for anything short of a...
...of a quiet time that I have to remind myself never happened, to my distress. "Honoré," I whisper, "I'm so sorry."
This isn't a peaceful sleep alongside a wonderful husband. I have no conscious recollection of ever removing my boots for anything else besides serious repairs. At some point, somepony (someone?) did that themselves...
...and I'm just now realizing that my HUD is flooded with a diagnostic scan that I never ordered or acknowledged.
Dash Thrusters: Unavailable. Unable to complete scan.
My boots are gone.
Armor Integrity: Unavailable. Unable to complete scan.
My basic body armor is still intact and available. Thank goodness for that. I raise a hand on impulse to massage my forehead---
My helmet's gone.
Combat Capabilities: 60%. Mental state compromised. Armaments compromised. Unable to complete scan.
That spike of terror just now... I never missed it. My mind was attacked? Someone... somepony did this to me? Somepony made me live that whole other life? They took my equipment while I was asleep and unaware?
And what does it mean by---
Frost Javelin: ALERT - Weapon not found.
"No... they couldn't have..."
The mobility that helps me excel in combat no matter where I am. My means of long-range communication and underwater maneuverability. And my primary means of attack and defense. They're gone.
How did they take the Frost Javelin? They shouldn't have any way of accessing my personal inventory...
...except that they wouldn't need to. I'm calling to mind the interaction I had with that pony on the rooftop. I recall summoning the weapon to my hand when I accidentally spooked her. Remembering what she looked like is a little bit tricky, but...
Sky blue coat, with a strange combination of cream and dark gray for her mane and tail... The same manestyle as...
In a flash, I summon another memory: the briefing I received centuries---no, days ago. One of the photos I looked at depicted a pony with the exact same manestyle. I recall that I had just chalked it up later to not all ponies following through on self-care.
But what if...
One more recollection from that other life, work with me, please... alright. About 110 years after Honoré passed away from age, I made the acquaintance of a friendless art student who was eager just to have someone to talk to. I took pity on the poor idiot and spent time with him, pretending to care about his long, rambling speeches about what he was learning.
At some point, I didn't need to pretend anymore.
During one of his lectures, he started messing around with color inversions. Black turning into white. Grassy green becoming light pink. Sky blue becoming...
I latch onto this. Cream and dark gray becoming a dark blue and silver. Her sky blue coat turning a particular shade of orange, most likely topaz.
They aren't perfect inversions, but it's close enough in appearance to---
"Illudere..."
...
...
Somewhere behind the safe house, an aging night janitor went about his business mopping up a tiled floor... until the raw volume of a single name stricken with heartbreak and rage blasted him off his hooves.
Unable to fall back asleep after her unexpected awakening, the unicorn in question registered something reaching her. One eye twitched, then the other. "Riddle me this, little mustang," she cooed, staring up at the ceiling from the floor. She didn't seem to care about how uncomfortable the surface was. "What do you give the mare who has everything?"
The restless Pure Energy, still distressed and upset at being heartlessly ripped away from his daily life, glared at his abductor from the bed he'd been double-tied to and refused to reply.
I don't trust myself to stay coherent. Give me a minute.
...
...
This must have been how Fefnir felt whenever he got angry. He was always more open about his emotions.
I have never in my life, both real and imaginary, felt like this before. My more logical side seems cowed right now.
Calico twitched and opened one eye blearily. For a second, she swore that somepony had just insulted her again. Shaking off the feeling, she shivered at the penetrating stare of the little earth pony across the room and pulled her blanket over her head.
The last thought the kirin had before she fell back asleep was: Tiny filly reminds me of them.
Illudere was toying with me. She was toying with me! She and her cohorts deliberately set this up to embarrass me, rip apart my self-confidence, and leave me out to dry! Did they think I wouldn't find out somehow? Did they seriously think that?
"S-somepony... please..."
My voice is getting choked up again. This entire fiasco has me feel like I've been cut to the heart. Logically it makes sense that nothing I saw over there was real, that I have no reason to be angry over it, but I can't stop thinking about it! I just can't!
That noise is trying to leave me. I have to stop it now before I lose control again!
Bushwhacker listened to Zig-Zag's soft crying, conflicted. The part of him that recalled his upbringing as one of Chrysalis's many drones told him to shut out that sound and get some sleep. The opposite side that had grown attached to Ponyville's residents after his liberation fought back.
An image of somepony in particular came to his mind, resolving his conflict. He climbed down from his bed and approached the corner of the room where Zig-Zag was huddled beneath a chair. "I'm sorry about this," he admitted. "I can't let you go right now, but you can at least rest somewhere more comfortably."
Shape-shifting into a Diamond Dog, he picked up the little pony and placed him on the bed near the pillow. Returning to his preferred form, he climbed onto the chair and closed his eyes, not seeing Zig-Zag's tear-faced surprise.
So much for keeping control. Why can't I stop crying? Why can't I stop crying?! Self, I order you to stop crying!
...I don't know why I expected that to work. Nothing's helping. Too mad to see straight, too distressed to do something about that madness.
But I can at least take stock of where I am now. There's no light in here, so I switch my Deep Sea vision on.
Illudere had left me on the pony equivalent of a full-sized bed, which still wasn't quite big enough to hold me. There's a bathroom behind the wall I'd punched through---
Excuse me a moment. Cleanliness calls.
...
...
Alright, I'm back. Kneeling beneath a running shower didn't help me get a grip on my mood, but at least I feel a little less dusty.
The bedroom has everything you'd expect. Let me see...
Scoping out the dresser... the top drawer has only a scarf and about fifty bits worth of coins. Using metal for currency... how cute. Middle drawer has everything that satisfies hygiene, lower drawer has some scraps of paper and papyrus with a half-empty ink bottle. Nothing I can use right n---
Wait. What's that pinned to the wall? An old newspaper clipping?
Co-Owner of Golden Bell Found Dead
Wife Inconsolable
Moissanite, the co-owner of the Golden Bell Performing Arts Center and Museum, was found dead by his wife Alexandrite behind the building. Investigations are ongoing.
No sign of foul play has been reported, and Moissanite reportedly never smoked or drank alcohol. He was perfectly healthy at the time of his death, according to those who knew him. An autopsy has revealed no poison or other harmful substances. The only clue to his demise lies in the absence of his Cutie Mark: the pile of gem dust that characterized him is gone from both sides.
His death has left his wife and partner in constant grief. Ponies are asked to be considerate of Alexandrite and to offer their support in this---
The article is ripped apart at this point, keeping me from reading any more. Moissanite, Alexandrite... where have I...
...
"AGHHHH!"
No, not 'where have I'. More like 'why can't I', as in WHY CAN'T I THINK STRAIGHT FOR ANY OF THIS?!
I get it, self! I get it! You miss that other life you led, you're angry because you were attacked in the worst possible way, I GET IT! For the love of X, just get over it already!
...
...
My hands are unsteady as I read the document sent to me. According to this, I've been named the executrix of my husband's estate---
...
...
I can't stand this anymore! I can't stand to be here or to think here!
"Please... please just---"
...!
There's an odd ticking noise somewhere standing out in the silence. I'll take it if it means not stressing myself out for just a few seconds.
As I try to locate the noise, I fully realize that Illudere had me stashed away in what was probably an abandoned home of sorts. Only one bedroom (now with a hole in the wall) that I just finished looking over, and a kitchen and living room. No windows, oddly, though there is artificial illumination. Pulling on a chain hanging down from the living room ceiling causes a light to switch on, letting me deactivate the Deep Sea.
I reach a hand towards a door, but pause. Illudere would have to be severely overconfident if there wasn't any sort of guard unit nearby. She had to expect that I would wake up eventually.
Though there's nothing keeping me from opening the door a sliver and peeking out into the hall, carefully.
...And it's a good thing I did. There's a small group of pseudo-mechaniloids in the hallway off to my right. Some of those robot butterflies---Magiflies, excuse me---are hovering at one end of the hall, with one of those badger-things beneath them. Multiple sapphire-headed spiders on the walls, just waiting to overwhelm me with sheer numbers: their legs idly tapping against the wall I'm behind are what's making that noise. I can't get an exact count of them all. Near them is a metal door that I'm almost positive leads outside.
Off to the left where I can't see, I can hear something shifting around. They've got that angle covered, too.
I close the door, walk back into the bedroom and sit down, tallying up what's available to me. Despite them taking my equipment, I'm not defenseless. I still have substantial physical strength to call my own. I can utilize ice manipulation without the Javelin; it will just take me longer. "Variable Weapons System"? ...Oh. Right. I was wondering what that was. It's telling me that I still have two techniques I can use: the Arctic Pulse and the Ice Slasher. And... what's this? A dedicated dry ice generator? When and how did I get that upgrade? Did Sentry Squadron piece that together, or---
I hold back the urge to create another hole in the wall. If my memories are going to keep intersecting and crashing into each other like this...
Ocean and Ebony, still under the effects of the sedative they'd been struck with, remained passed out at opposite corners of the room. Bastion had taken the first shift, with Gates dozing outside the door.
It probably wasn't necessary. Given the nature of the sedative they'd used, he could easily have fallen asleep himself. It was best not to take chances, though.
A faint noise got his attention, proving his thinking correct. He edged over to the curtain and peeked through it. Outside were members of the Royal Police, with a bloodhound and a dark-coated shepherd on leashes. The dogs were pawing at the door to the building the thieves were in.
A moment later two Magiflies flew into view, taking potshots at them. The shots were meant to scare, not injure, and they did their job: the officers and their dogs took off in the other direction.
Inside his helmet, Bastion's lips curled downward. They've found us.
I need to get out of here, with or without my equipment. I have to find somebody (somepony?) to talk to. I need to make sense of all this, sort it all out.
But...
But... I don't know if I can. I'm... I'm not feeling like my heart's in this. I should be able to score a victory in this situation, even without my preferred weapon. But what was done to me... it just won't leave my head. It's killing my drive.
I can't figure out how to explain it to any of you. I'm sure there are a few of you seeing my memories in the future and yelling at me something along the lines of: "Neo Arcadia's best is reduced to this? Get up and fight, you wimp! You're tougher than that!" I don't know how to make it perfectly clear to you how deeply my 'experiences' effected me. I'm tough, yes, but I'm not that tough. I'm the same as everybody else: I'm not so strong that I don't have my share of vulnerabilities.
And one pony managed to nail every one of them with a single spell.
My fists slam down onto the bed. I want so very badly to find Illudere and teach her the consequences of mentally assaulting one of the Guardians. But I know it wouldn't work out: what's stopping her from just hitting me with the same spell again? During that other life, even taking into account a few odd sensations and feelings, I had absolutely no recollection of my time in this city. If it happened to me again, I could live for centuries more without knowing that I was at the complete mercy of that cursed unicorn.
Or it might not even be that long. When I was leaving that theater this past day, my main and reserve Energen tanks were almost completely topped off. Fast forward seven hours later, and I'm seeing a large dent made in the main supply while the reserves are empty. Assuming that my systems needed to chew through all of it just to keep up with how the spell interacted with my CPU, then it's possible that a repeat use of it would ensure that I would never wake up again.
The awe I'm in of that kind of power has nothing on my fear of it. I can keep fighting in the face of fire, force and finesse, but I have no recourse against a well-applied fantasy. There's no fun to be had in this. None.
I feel so overwhelmed right now. Trapped. Trying to fight this sort of magic feels impossible!
"Please..."
I can't overcome this alone. I can't do this alone!
"P-please... somepony please help me!"
...
Drowning in her emotions as she was, she completely missed the notification informing her of two identified Class-C ponies on their way in.
A few blocks away from where they'd arrived in the district, Echo had led them to a specific alley.
There were two ponies already there. One of them was just starting to wake up, moaning dazedly, and the other was failing to remove a knife that was pinning her tail hairs to the ground. The latter looked up, her eyes widening upon seeing Coffee. "I-it isn't what it looks like, Officer! I swear!" she blurted out, struggling to get the stallion off of her.
"I don't care," Coffee informed her sternly. "We're carrying out an investigation, and I don't have time to be sidetracked. Either help us or get out. And keep your hooves clean, or you'll be hearing from me again."
Drama magicked the knife free of the ground. The thuggish mare didn't bother retrieving it, instead grabbing the stallion and dragging him out of the alley. "Shameful," she said disapprovingly as she watched them go. "They couldn't at least have waited until they were behind closed doors?"
"It really wasn't what it looked like," Coffee admitted, having spotted the stallion's injuries during the brief exchange, "but more on that another time. Echo, where'd you go?"
The cat had kept going while the pair was sidetracked by the thugs. He meowed and got their attention from the top of some stairs part-way down the alley.
Coffee nodded as they got closer, seeing signs posted on or near several doors that showed which establishments they belonged to. She frowned as she took note of some graffiti beneath the stairs that read 'R.I.P. Moissanite'. "How much do you want to bet that Illudere deliberately chose this location for irony's sake?"
"What do you mean?" Drama wondered. "Where are we?"
"We're---"
A familiar light humming and the shifting of air interrupted her, bringing her to a surprised halt. Two flying drones of the type that had accosted Coffee around a week before emerged from hiding places outside their line of sight. The Magiflies zeroed in on them, ready to fire.
If it had been her alone against those two, Coffee would've had some confidence in her ability to fight them. She'd had prior experience against these drones, and information on how to destroy them had been passed along from the authorities in Diarchs. However, Coffee was escorting somepony who probably never had to deal with genuine danger. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Drama taking several fearful steps backward. "Ms. Heart, run---!"
Her words were smothered by an angry snarl. Echo didn't know what those weird flying things were or why the ponies were afraid of them, but he knew enough to figure out that they weren't friends. That in turn meant that they weren't helping him rescue the crier. Gathering his wits and his strength, he took a flying leap from his perch at the nearest drone.
Echo's aim was perfect. The Magifly he landed on tilted sharply, unable to compensate for the unexpected weight of a Mane Coon dropping onto it. With its aim thrown off, its shot struck the other drone instead and blasted it apart.
...Wha... what's that noise? Did something explode?
What's this in my eyes? 'Hunter'? When did I... never mind. What does it do?
...I can see through walls by shutting off one eye? ...More than that, I can see the drones. They're jittery... they must've heard the explosion, too. But what caused it?...
A house cat? ...A pony police officer... Coffee-and-Cream? ... ...?! A gasp. DRAMA HEART?!
The Magifly struggled to fling Echo off of itself, wings flapping madly and its body rotating every which way. Hissing and yowling, Echo in turn did his best to keep his purchase on the drone. His claws scrambled uselessly against the metal as he tried to do whatever he could to inconvenience it.
He lasted long enough for Coffee and Drama to get their wits about them, the two having been stunned into open-mouthed silence at his attack for a short time. "Ms. Heart, you know any self-defense spells?" the officer inquired urgently.
"Well, yes..."
"Use it," Coffee ordered. "I'll catch the cat!"
Drama didn't need encouragement: her horn was already lit up. "Echo, let go!"
On the verge of losing his grip anyway, he did what he was told. Coffee's charge was properly timed, and Echo landed squarely on her back as she galloped past the stairs.
Before the Magifly could re-orient itself, a magical tendril whipped out and swatted it down into the ground, crushing it. Drama's strike was quick and violent enough that one of the wings snapped off cleanly on impact, but otherwise there was barely anything to salvage.
Coffee drifted to a stop and turned around. Drama was already trotting to meet her, snorting disdainfully at the wreckage as she passed it. "That's what you call a self-defense spell? I was half-expecting you to fire a beam of some kind," Coffee commented wryly.
"Not my style, and it's too cost-intensive." Drama reached out to give Echo a light nudge, smiling thankfully. "You're definitely Gray's cat, alright. Thanks for the save, little dearie."
Though they had no way of knowing it, Echo's answering "mrrr" was meant to correct them and tell them that he wasn't Gray's cat: rather, Gray was his pony. He accepted the praise anyway.
One of Coffee's hooves went to her radio. "MRPD, this is Officer Coffee-and-Cream. We've tracked Leviathan to Bridleway, and we're currently located in the alley behind the Golden Bell. We just finished fighting off two of those Magiflies, but I have reason to believe that there's more waiting for us in the building. Requesting backup. Over."
-"Thanks for the heads-up, Coffee. We'll get a squad to your position shortly. Be careful back there. It's been years, but we still don't know what killed Moissanite."-
Echo jumped off Coffee's back, an action she ignored in favor of ending the call. "Got it. We're going in."
Drama had a question to ask once the radio was switched off. "You called them 'Magiflies'. Have you seen these before?"
"Once, during the Police breakout," Coffee told her. Her ears twitched at a harmonica coming from an establishment opposite the Golden Bell, and for a moment she wondered why nopony was hearing what was happening here. Do they even care as long as it doesn't disturb their lives? "It helps that we got some intel recently on how best to fight them should we encounter them again."
"So... they're robots?"
"Of a sort, though they lean closer to magic than science. 60-40." Coffee started up the steps, when Drama and Echo following. "I noticed they'd ignored Echo in favor of us at first. That tells me that they have some sort of intelligence and perspective. Confirms what those scientists told us."
Drama hummed in thought. "Makes me wonder if illusions would work on them. If they do, I could misdirect them while you attack them, maybe?"
"Wouldn't hurt to try," Coffee decided. She frowned as a thornier issue came to light at the top of the stairs. "Of course, we still have to get through this door." She tapped the metal, listening to the sound it made. "Steel, at a guess. Assuming this padlock isn't the only lock, I don't think I can bust it down myself without either breaking my legs or tiring myself out. Any thoughts on this, Ms. Heart?"
This issue was considered in silence for a short time. While Drama was aware of Alexandrite putting the property up for sale and that the Golden Bell still hosted small-scale events for now, she didn't know that there was a janitor on-site who could have helped them approach the problem from a less destructive angle. Instead, being a mare whose chosen occupation relied heavily on creativity, that was the tack she opted to take. "Levi's going to have more of those things guarding her, right?"
"Undoubtedly."
"And based on how that one Magifly was destroyed, they have projectile attacks, right?"
"Yes."
Drama's smile started off saying 'this might work'. It ended saying 'you know they're in trouble plenty'. Carefully, she started edging backwards down the stairs. "We might want to get off the landing. You too, Echo. If illusions do in fact work on them, then this will get a mite explosive, oh yes it will."
Confused, Coffee turned towards Echo to see if he knew what was happening. She wasn't sure whether to chastise herself for doing so, or to be surprised that she could see obvious confusion on his face. Deciding on both, she followed Drama's lead and retreated. Echo charged past them, beating them both down the steps.
Drama's horn shone, and Burning Salamandra cackled.
What's Drama doing here?! She needs to get away! It's not safe here!
They're going down the stairs. What does she have planned?
Wait. Why is she laughing?
And why are the mechaniloids attacking the door?!
The first indication that Drama's plan--whatever it was--had worked were the loud banging noises as something battered at the door, shaking it. The next was the middle of it starting to glow white as the metal slowly buckled and warped. Coffee watched quietly with wide eyes, not wanting to interrupt the process.
A small part of her was envious at Drama and Echo, while another was disappointed in herself. The cat and Ms. Heart have pulled their weight trying to help Leviathan out. What have I done this evening besides prove Illudere was responsible for this? ...I suppose there's nothing that covered magitech being turned against ponies at the academy, but what kind of excuse is that?
The glow around Drama's horn dissipated, and the drones' attacks stopped a few seconds later. "There," she decided with a satisfied smile. "The door should be weak enough that we can both punch through it now."
The ponies walked back upstairs, while Echo decided to stay behind. "For the record, Ms. Heart..." Coffee said calmly because-she-totally-wasn't-nervous, "I think you're a monster."
Drama giggled. "You're really sweet, but you're not my type. And I'm already married to my job anyway."
Coffee wiped off a bead of sweat that was sliding towards her muzzle. "That's what you got out of that?"
"All I did was place an overlay of Leviathan across the door. It's the same trick I use to make it look like monsters are appearing during my plays. The props are the mattresses, and the illusions are the blankets." She giggled again. "A sharp eye can see the illusion for what it truly is, but apparently whatever's behind that door are complete dullards."
"I think I'm learning more about magic tonight than I ever did in school. I don't know if that says more about you than it does my teachers or not," Coffee griped. "Anyway, it's only a matter of time before somepony..." She turned and glared at the block as a whole as she spoke that last word. Only that blasted harmonica answered her. "...gets off their tail and investigates back here. Let's get in there and get our friend back."
Drama let go of her levity, bracing herself. "So, on three, then?"
"On three. And be ready with your spellcasting, alright? This has to be quick. One... two... three!"
Coffee whirled and kicked out with all of her strength. Drama manifested another tendril and whipped it against the damaged metal. The combined force of both strikes finished what the drones had unintentionally started, breaking the door off of its hinges and shattering the clasp that held the padlock in place. Released, the door fell inwards.
They broke through? They actually broke through! I've got to help them!
But I can't...
Leviathan, they are your allies! Help them!
I...
Help... them!
...
PLEASE!
All of the drones in that part of the hall had gathered around the door, fooled by Drama into thinking that the entity they had been tasked with guarding was right there. Most had drifted back to their assigned locations, but a few lingered.
Those few didn't react in time when the heavy door fell into the hallway, pinning them to the floor. The drones that had moved out of range spun around to assess the incoming threat.
"Hiya, boys!"
As Drama had surmised, none of the drones were very smart. The instructions their limited intelligences received told them that they were to attack Leviathan should she leave the abandoned apartment she'd been placed in, and to prioritize her over all other targets.
"Well, I don't know if 'boys' is the proper term..."
So when they registered what appeared to be Leviathan standing in the middle of the hallway, greeting them with a cheery demeanor and a wave, the groups at both ends charged the illusion and attacked as one. The Magiflies' shots ripped through, hitting walls and other Magiflies. The Evisceragers swiped their claws through it to no effect. The oh-so-creatively-named Sapphiders tried to jump on it repeatedly, only to pass through, and several of them became victims of friendly fire.
"But that's besides the point! I'm standing here waving at you, so what are you going to do about it?"
While they were busy, Coffee walked up to the steel door, pushed it up with a grunt, then slammed it back down to crush those drones that were trapped beneath it. She emitted a startled cry when one of the missed shots came too close to hitting her, deciding to backtrack to the landing. "And what sort of mattress did you use for that?"
"The open air, silly," Drama replied with a chuckle. She didn't enter the building, instead staying on the landing. "It's a mattress, too. Not a very stable mattress, but still a---"
"SHREEE!"
"---AAAH!" Drama cut herself off with a scream. She collapsed and covered her ears with her hooves, her earlier fear returning. "What in Tartarus was that?!"
Coffee had almost jolted herself off the landing when she'd heard the noise. Somewhere downstairs she could hear Echo voicing a protest of his own. To her, that strange cry almost sounded like an angry pig squeal on helium, filtered through sheet metal before being split with a razor. Her ears pricked as she heard a string of angry curses from somewhere in the building: the real Leviathan was close by.
A second later, a volley of six magic shots ripped through the hallway at a higher speed than Coffee recalled seeing from the Magiflies. They shredded the remaining drones in their path without slowing down, only stopping when they hit the wall behind the broken door. There they detonated, blasting out the wall and shaking that end of the building.
Coffee had a split second's worth of satisfaction on hearing that harmonica finally stop, but that was it. Holding one foreleg near her muzzle to prevent herself from inhaling any smoke, she leaned in and risked a look into the hallway.
The Magiflies, the Evisceragers, and the Sapphiders had all been destroyed, if not by each other than by the hulking newcomer at the far end. Drama's illusion was gone, taken down when the shrill cry had spooked her.
The name for this odd beast wasn't included the intel that the Diarchs authorities had procured from the arrested scientists, so Coffee suspected that this had been produced elsewhere. Its design reminded her of a floating helmet with spikes jutting out of the top. A visor was in the middle of what passed for its face, a green light shifting from side to side. A barrel attached to its underside called to mind what the MRPD had recovered of Glintlock's automatic crossbow. The drone had been damaged by a few stray shots, but it was still functional.
And to her horror, it was floating down the hall towards them. With a surge of strength and a desperate cry, Coffee grabbed the fallen door and heaved it down the hall in an attempt to slow it down.
"SHREEE!"
The screechy machine's second volley struck the door, dissipating it in a burst of shrapnel. Coffee had enough sense to duck back out of the way as some of the shrapnel passed through the area where her ears had been, passing into the darkened room behind the destroyed wall. The rest of it was left embedded in the walls and floor with a rapid-fire series of thuds.
"Officer!" Drama alerted her, something floating before her. "Try throwing this! Aim for the light!"
Coffee recognized the floating object as the knife that the thugs had left behind. Well, I'm no expert with this, but I'm not seeing any other options! Taking the knife, she leaned out of cover and whipped it down the hall.
Her aim wasn't perfect, but the sizeable visor allowed for plenty of leeway. The blade lodged in the glass and spiderwebbed the visor with cracks, hampering its vision. The drone shrieked again, trying to find its target to no avail.
"WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP ALREADY?!"
Coffee and Drama's ears perked up---
A door next to the drone shattered to pieces, and an icy wave that spanned the height of the hall carved halfway through the metal. In a snap, the drone was enshrouded inside and out with a thick layer of ice. The weight of the ice and the sudden freezing over of its internal runes made the drone drop to the floor with a thump. A second ice wave struck it, and the drone splintered and collapsed into a hundred chunks.
As the hall fell silent, a breath left Coffee that she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Too close, she thought. This encounter could have been the end of us right there. Did she even need rescuing after all?
A bipedal figure exited the room she had attacked out of, stepping around the pile of frozen debris... and all it took was a single look for Coffee to determine that yes, she did.
...
...
Drama too could tell that something was dreadfully wrong. Leviathan had been left with her jumpsuit and basic body armor, such as it was, but nothing else. Nothing was left of the awkward yet confident fighter they were familiar with. Only the pain that comes with emotional turmoil was present in her expression, with a side order of hyperventilation and dwindling anger. "Fairy, dearie?" the showmare inquired tentatively. "What's wrong?"
The once-proud warrior didn't say anything at first. For a short while she just stared at the two of them intently, as if trying to convince herself that they were alive. When she walked towards them, her steps were unsteady in a way that had nothing to do with her lack of footwear. The shrapnel in the floor crunched beneath her feet: they could pierce her suit's fabric and her fake skin, but not the ceratanium beneath. Even then she should have felt some pain, but she never even winced.
When she got close enough, Drama reached out with a tendril and wrapped it around one of Leviathan's hands for support. Together, the three of them descended the stairs back down to the alley proper. Nearby, Echo emerged from hiding and sat up straight as he got his first look at the not-pony he had helped locate.
At one end of the alley, the aged janitor who had been knocked off his hooves by Leviathan's scream galloped in. He had initially passed off the scream as him just hearing things next door, but he had been subsequently alerted by all of the screeching and violence. He slowed down to a stop, however, when he laid eyes on the solemn scene before him. He wisely kept his mouth closed as the group reached the bottom. None of those present paid him or those that followed after him any attention.
When Leviathan's feet touched the pavement, she stopped moving. She whispered, voice shaking: "Drama... I... I..."
Drama dissolved the tendril and turned to address her gently. "Please. Talk to me. What's wrong?"
Somewhere in Equestria, a metal gate rattled violently as it was battered by a storm's strong wind. Eventually it could take no more: the latch that held it shut was shaken loose, and it swung open all the way.
It wasn't with words that Leviathan released her emotions. She collapsed to her knees and did something so outlandish that Drama was taken off guard: she pulled her into her arms, clutched her like a life preserver, and wailed to one and all for the first time in her life.
...
...What the...? "Fairy," Drama whispered. For the lack of any other recourse, she reached up and tried to embrace her in return the best that she could. "You wouldn't hug me if I asked nicely. What in Equestria happened to you?"
Caught up in her anguish, Leviathan didn't answer coherently.
Trying to outwardly hide how she felt about what she was witnessing, Coffee switched on her radio. "MRPD, the Siren General is secure. I repeat, Leviathan has been found. Over."
-"Good work, Officer. What is that noise in the background?"
"That would be Leviathan crying, sir."
-"...Come again, Officer Coffee?"-
Coffee sighed quietly. "I am not clear on the details, sir. All I know is that we had to fight through a wave of those drones, the back of the Golden Bell has sustained structural damage, and Leviathan might be suffering a nervous breakdown." Her ears pricked up at some noises outside the alley. "Carriages have finally gotten here. We'll give you the full story at the station. Oh, and inform the investigators to tread cautiously. There's shrapnel and debris all over the place that will need cleaned up."
-"Confirmed, Officer."-
Coffee turned off the radio, muttering to herself. "Not looking forward to seeing what the fallout from this is going to be like." She approached Leviathan and placed a hoof on her arm. "Hey." She raised her voice a little to make herself heard over Leviathan's crying. "Hey."
The second attempt got her attention, and she lifted her head to meet her navigator's eyes. It was disconcerting to see how distraught she was without any tears, but she forced herself to dismiss that detail. She's as alive as we are. "We've got carriages waiting to take us back to the station. Are you good to go, General?"
Leviathan nodded minutely, still whimpering. "...H-how did you find me?"
Coffee smiled. "I'll tell you later. C'mon, Leviathan. Up and at 'em." She placed a hoof on her arm and added in a reassuring tone: "I don't know just what in Tartarus you've gone through tonight, General, but that doesn't matter. You've helped us. Let us help you."
It was clear she didn't want to let go at first, but Leviathan finally released Drama and stood up straight with a grunt. The unicorn did not do the same in return, getting lifted into the air as she continued to cling to her neck and shoulders. "...What?..."
"First, call me Sally. You've earned that right," Drama told her, sparking some surprise behind her eyes. "And two, you're worse off than when we first met. I'm not letting you go until I'm positive you're alright, and nothing you say or do will convince me otherwise."
Leviathan's soft laughter was sorrowful. "...I don't deserve any of you," she murmured as she brought up a hand to support her friend's weight.
Drama's eyes briefly dilated, and she flinched. "Ouch. Careful. I was clawed back there earlier."
"Oh. Sorry."
A meow reminded them that there was one more creature present. "Ah. Right. Before we go," Coffee said, smiling thankfully down at Echo, "I need to send this little guy home with a message." She raised a hoof, signalling one of the officers on their way into the alley. "Hey! Can we divert one of the carriages to Flower Row?"
Gray wasn't sure how long she'd spent on the floor, just staring at the door in the hopes that the police would come back with her family. An hour? Two? Four? Seven? She didn't know. All she knew was that she was too anxious and worried to sleep.
Her ears pricked as something approached the door. She heard it shake as something bumped it repeatedly, and she recognized Echo's request to be let in. Guess I'd better, she thought, pushing herself to her hooves even though she wanted to remain where she was. He gets mad if I don't answer right away.
Gray unlocked the door and opened it. Echo was there, as she knew he would be. "I'm happy you got home safe," she greeted him quietly so as not to disturb anypony. "Did your hunt go well?" Her eyes flicked towards his collar, noticing something white stuck in it. "...And how'd you get that paper stuck in your collar?"
"Mrrrr," Echo trilled, making a token effort at trying to work it loose before giving up.
Curious despite herself, Gray moved her head in and managed to pull the paper loose with her teeth. After Echo walked in, she shut and locked the door before going to the kitchen. There was enough illumination coming in through the window that her stellar night vision let her see what was hastily scrawled on the paper:
"QU: The SG has been found. She's in good hooves now. Give your cat something nice, he led us straight to her. --Off. C&C"
Gray read and re-read the message to make sure that she understood it correctly. "Did..." She gave Echo her full attention, surprised at how he had chosen to occupy his time. She'd always known he was intelligent, but she wasn't expecting this. "Did you really help the Police find Leviathan?"
Echo replied by way of a head-bump against her chin.
In spite of the seriousness of her situation, Gray was able to feel a measure of pride towards her pet. "You did good tonight, Echo," she complimented him lovingly as she petted him. "You did real good. Come on. I think a dish of your favorite canned food's in order."
...
Gray eventually returned to the position she'd been in since the Police had left. This time, the soft purring and eating noises from the kitchen were able to give her a measure of comfort and hope as she resumed her vigil.
...
...
...
...
...
...
Analyzing memories... ... ... ...
Scanning DNA. Please wait... ... ... ...
Partition found. Analysis of compatibility in progress. Reconstruction in progress. Priority set to "lowest".
Partition incomplete. Vital data unavailable. Unable to complete reconstruction. Process halted.
Information fragmented. Attempting to defragment. Please wait.
Files damaged. Attempting to repair. Please wait.
Completion time: ERROR. Unable to determine.
...
...the ability to think, feel, and make---
...
...
Thanks to Ze1a7in for the chapter title!
Music links for this chapter include: "Broken Hearts (Extended Orchestral Version", by Michael Ortega; "Dead Bird Studio", from A Hat in Time; and "A Place to Find You", by BigRicePiano.
...Wow. That chapter almost got away from me entirely, that's all I'm gonna say. 
But it's done. Finally. It's done.
So, yeah. The reason why Drama shouldn't have gotten her hopes up is shown here: Leviathan might be alright physically, but mentally and emotionally she is anything but. Unfortunately, due to the events that took place while she was asleep, her night is not yet over...
Echo and Coffee-and-Cream get their time in the spotlight this chapter. I'd wanted Gray's cat to have a larger role for most of the year, but it was a bit of a trick figuring out what he'd do. In Coffee's case, I've always enjoyed developing minor characters, and I wanted to give her a chance to do something beyond being Levi's navigator.
I had to do some checking to see if crabs, like the one Illudere typically has hanging from her mane, have any sort of smell. General consensus is that live, healthy ones don't, or at least not ones that Echo could detect. At best, they'd smell like the ocean they were taken out of. They may have a mild sweet smell, but to my knowledge cats can't smell sweet things.
Fun fact: real-life Maine Coons are one of the largest domestic cat breeds known to exist. Meanwhile, Magiflies aren't very big, and un-modified ones can't support large amounts of weight. I can imagine Echo being able to weigh it down.
The line 'you know they're in trouble plenty' is an edited lyric from Jay and the Americans' "Come a Little Bit Closer".
The drone with the machine gun-esque weapon is based off the Class 1 Driller from Descent. Makes the absolute worst sound I've ever heard in my life. Unless you've played the game, then please, just take my word for it that it sounds exactly like how I described it in-story. I can't in good conscience subject any of you to its full effect. 
I'm sorry if a few of the later parts of this chapter seem off, most notably the ones surrounding Drama and Coffee's attack against the drones. Due to personal circumstances, I haven't been in the best mood as of late, and I've been wanting to get this chapter done before I ended up snapping. 
Going to take a short break. I have an idea for an MLP/Descent crossover (just a short one, likely no longer than 3 or 4K words in length), so I'm going to type it out before I continue M.L.G. Hey, if it exists, there's got to be pony of it, right? 
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Well, at least Leviathan will have her Javelin back. Drama brought it with her to the police station. The rest of her armor though.....That's likely going to be trickier.
And that red text at the end......HOW INTERESTING
I'm sure Leviathan "just wants to talk" to illudere. Please ignore the bone saw.
Oh my god. That artist Levi befriended in the false timeline -- was Illudere the other husband?! And did she inject herself into that on purpose to screw with Levi harder, or was that a ghost of her previous sane self genuinely trying to soften the illusion?
Goddamn that's fucked up.
11691648
Yeah we don't interact with Silver Diamond anymore unless provoked. He tends to be dictionary-definition bigoted and it's boring getting into conversational loops with him.
All that time and energy wasted generating a simulation, and so little of it was useful.
One of the biggest problems with decrypting data is that most often it looks like simply corrupted data.
11691841
Heh~ It's just some random word really, and I like to find fics to put in the HIE group
11691941
Thanks for the heads up.
Poor Levi just can't catch a break! 💔
11692203
She'll get better, I assure you. It's just a matter of getting there.
11691937
Thankfully, no. It would probably be in character for Illudere to do that, but she wasn't the artist. And thank Celestia for that.
I'm genuinely impressed with your writing here. I was NOT expecting the emotional gut punch and fallout to come across so well. I knew it was coming, but damn, did you do a fine job of making it feel important to the characters and the reader as well. My poor heart practically bleeds for Levi.
I often think Illusions in fiction are underutilized for their potential to create exciting stories. A well-placed illusion can serve as more than a mere distraction and you managed to make my favorite kind of magic feel important and well-utilized. Bravo and thank you!
That seems ominous.
11693551
It is a fragment. I suspect the sentence is going to continue with "their own decisions". Aka: Dr. Lights description and introduction of X.
11694355
well then i completely glossed over Charity's introduction and relationship with leviathan, cuz i don't remember why she's significant at all
11693524
You're welcome. Honestly I feel like I could've written it better. Most of the time when I try to write something emotional, it comes off as vaguely narm-y to me at best. But if you think that it did the job, then that's good enough for me.
OH a maine coon, the great dane of cats, yes that does change things a fair bit. Up to this point i was just imagining a fluffy Himalayan with dark fur, like friendlynoodles
why is everything after 'up' not bolded in the blue text, i had to stop and study it for a few minutes to make sure i wasnt tripping
11695967
I haven't the foggiest. I thought for sure I bolded and italicized the entire thing when I entered it in. Give me a moment...
*double-checks*
Alright, I know what the problem was. For some reason, I had extra Bold tags there that weren't needed. It should be fixed now.
Gah. Just found out I accidentally unfazed this story and now I'm 8 chapters behind. Time to catch up!
11709701
Hmm, okay, thanks for the attention
Hypothesis confirmed.
I wonder if you included this because of someone's comment, or if you were already planning it?
I wonder if being forced into stillness is making it appreciable worse. Also, if Illudere were sane, my hypothesis indicates that she should be surprised and very worried that Leviathan is awake in hours rather than decades. Of course she can try recasting it would each time, or maybe she has a permanent version that only works, or she enjoys casting, on someone who WANTS to return to the lotus-eater dream rather than face reality.
Is Zig-Zag not tied up? Even if only hog-tied getting under a chair would take a lot of work.
I was going to say she was carrying around a duffle-bag or something with bits for a while, so she shouldn't be remarking on this now... but that was two hundred plus years ago to her.
Ah... right a sensible precaution although Illudere is insane to ignore it if she wasn't supposed to wake for decades. Maybe Illudere was just using a more evolved-through-madness version of the same telepathy that made Calico feel insulted (I forget what she feels insulted about something about a fellow fire-using creature?)?
Nice alliteration, including "fantasy".
This was where it occured to me that perhaps the spell is equally stressful on a biological brain, but the brains starves for oxygen and nutrients (like some herbicides work by forcing growth?) rather than starving the whole body with the draw from the brain. That would explain why a counterspell couldn't wake the coma victim(s).
(Probably going to edit more in. Might be napping or doing hard-core so this may go on a while.)
Nice contrast to show her "let's get dangerous" flip.
Maybe not a resident... but... I though was in jail. No, wait, the sniper/engineer played a guitar. Still seems like it might be important since it was repeated.
So she maybe couldn't cast illusions in front of her while in a spacesuit in a vacuum? Or, at least, it.would be completely unstable (or MAYBE the most stable of all). Also, I wonder if she has ever tried.to help a customer who was WAY over their head by coming to one of her performances? If so, she might have some good on-the-spot psychotherapy for Levi...
I wonder if Levi's gear has made its way to a laboratory yet... surely they couldn't have been dumb enough to leave it in the.same building? Or were they worried it might contain the one of components that does explosion they were worried about?
The location where some of Gray's family are being held? Even if not, then my brief hypothesis of "Tartarus" seems unlike as I think the lock on that is proof against at leat mid-level lockpicksing, much less the random vibrations of wind... Probably not symbolic of.Levi breaking free as mentally she still has a way to go. (The ignoring of foot pain was a nice tough for how shells hockey she is).
(Starting a new post rather than continuing the old was an accident, still might nap or do yardwork, so time between edits might be hours... Actually that is possible in general)
What does "QU" stand for? And why no officer with the cat?
DONE WITH CHAPTER NOW.
11839671
The first one. Someone noticed that the spell had similarities to the Black Mercy, and I figured 'why not'?
As a side note, that story was also where I got the idea for Leviathan's scream (more specifically, this image here).
No, he wasn't. Bushwhacker opted to take a softer approach in dealing with him than the others did with their own captives. I'm inclined to think that the bedroom door had locks on it, and he would've been alerted quickly if Zig-Zag tried to escape, so he figured he had nothing to lose.
Correct.
It actually was meant to be symbolic, just of Leviathan's emotions breaking free.
"Quick Update". And everypony was going to be busy that night, so those that took Echo home just let him off at the door before going on their way.