Testing, Testing, 1 2 3
"Still, I insist you reconsider the decision to utilize D-Class personnel in this endeavor. Not only do we risk of triggering the anomaly's secondary effect, we also run the risk of creating an international incident." The man didn't so much as flinch when Daniel raised an eyebrow, inviting him to explain himself. "As you most certainly know, D-Class personnel are a rambunctious bunch, oftentimes with a history of either violent, or similarly deplorable actions. If any of our otherworldly partners found out about the history of these test subjects, it could sour further diplomatic relations."
"I worked with D-Class before, and while they can be hard to work with, they often provide the Foundation with enough information to make up for the troubles they cause." Daniel trailed off, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "With that said, I understand your concerns, Dr. Turner. However, if you wish to exclude their involvement in the testing process, you need to find a suitable replacement."
Doctor Turner tugged at the collar of his white coat, seeming uncomfortable for the first time during the interview. "This is why I've come straight to you, Director Miller. A researcher like myself would surely understand the unique circumstances of our situation. From what we understand, the other side of the portal is safe to inhabit, considering the aliens' sudden arrival and prolonged exposure to our atmosphere caused them no harm. As such, I have a proposition: we use security personnel as test subjects, with their permission and a sufficient pay raise, of course. And if the situation warrants D-Class personnel, then we'll hopefully be able to devise a cover story and instruct the D-Class on how to behave." Time Turner stood with bated breath, each second dragging for way too long.
"No." Daniel spoke slowly, each word careful and deliberate. "We've made enough concessions already, more than enough, I would say." The Director fished out a document from a neat stack of papers, a pen scratching his signature on the marble white surface. "For this partnership to flourish, both sides need to reach a compromise. They'd find out about D-Class eventually, so it's best if we act blunt. I'm not risking the lives of my people, just because a skip got upset, and neither are you." Daniel leaned forward, giving the Doctor a stern look. "Have I made myself clear, Doctor Turner?"
"Crystal."
John Smith wasn't a lucky man. It seemed that from the very moment of his birth, the Universe took a dislike for the man, intent on making sure he never had a good thing going for him. His childhood years, however much he could remember, were spent in fear and disparity, the laughable facsimile of a family abandoning him to the whims of the country's foster system.
Kids can be cruel, and to prosper one must fight fire with fire. He hardened his heart against his jeering peers, and fought them with wounding words and cruel intent, employing more physical means of persuasion once diplomacy inevitably failed.
Yet his reign of terror was not meant to last, his coming of age thrusting him into the maelstrom of adult life, where one rule prevails.
Sink, or swim.
What little dead-end job opportunities presented themselves were far too monotonous for him to keep, forcing the man to come up with a new source of income.
Shoplifting and petty theft slowly yet surely established themselves as his main professions, steadily escalating in both frequency and severity as his demands soared to new heights. What little comfort was dashed away once again after a particularly nasty holdup went wrong, resulting in a fresh stain on his conscience and a hefty prison sentence.
He was content to serve his time, hoping fate would allow him a small chance of redemption. It is for that reason, when a man in a business suit offered him a reduced sentence, along with a chance to serve his country, he grasped it like a drowning man would a lifeline.
He didn't ask any questions about his number or the clothes, and neither was he bothered by the blindfold and the silent treatment from the guards.
This was his chance, he knew this.
John blinked away the stupor that inevitably came to him in his musings, focusing instead on the labcoat donning man, looking at him with a sort of resigned indifference.
"D-4558, you are to enter the threshold and document your findings, be it verbally via the equipment provided to you, or graphically. Rest assured, you will be met on the other side by allied forces." The doctor seemed to recognise the hint of uneasiness in John's features, continuing his speech. "Be warned, you may experience dizziness, disorientation or vertigo. Remember that no matter what you feel, you are in no danger." The doctor cleared his throat, sitting down into a plain white chair.
"D-4558, you are free to begin."
John sighed, looking around the rather spacious white canvas tent set up around the statue. He steeled himself, fixed the straps around his body and put a hand against the mirror, feeling a fleeting tingle spread from the point of contact.
Something tugged forcefully, dragging him into a whirlwind of colors and shapes, his whole body going numb.
Disoriented didn't begin to cover what John was experiencing at the moment. He laid sprawled on the cold, marbled floor, subtle headache making itself more apparent with each passing moment of wakefulness.
"Hello? Are you alright?" A worried yet melodic feminine voice inquired, sending a jolt of pain through his head. His cranium erupted with pain as the figures around the man rushed to help him, his headache reaching his peak as he was raised to stand, on all fours for some reason, prompting the man to shut his eyes to escape the pain.
"Something's the matter? Are you in pain?" A different voice asked in an almost motherly tone, her words just as pleasant to the ear as the previous speakers.
"Yeah," John replied, feeling a hand on his shoulder. "Head hurts like a bitch. Everything's so loud and bright." He took a deep breath, feeling something trickle out of his nose, a metallic taste present in his mouth. He tried to wipe his nose with the back of his palm, but found himself unable to unclench his fist.
Finally, the headache subsided, replaced by a subtle yet rhythmic hum in the back of his mind, one that soon faded into the background, becoming completely unnoticeable. Opening his eyes to survey the situation John found himself surrounded by strange beings that looked like horses, all of them leveling worried looks in his direction.
As his vision cleared, fear began to grip his heart as the D-Class got a better look at his entourage. Two horses were wearing white hats with a red cross on them. His gaze drifted to their faces, sending shivers down his spine. Their eyes were big, too big for a normal horse or even a pony, the spark of intelligence coupled with their front-facing position reminded him of something he learned during one of the lessons he miraculously didn't skip as a child.
Predators have front facing eyes.
Sensing his distress, another pony took a step closer, this one bearing both wings and a horn, her purple fur all too unnatural for what he was used to seeing.
"Don't be afraid, we won't hurt you!" He recognised her voice, the first one he heard since passing through the weird mirror. Hoping she'd be a tad bit more normal, a mix of fear and disappointment stirred in him as he faced the same eerie features that all but activated his fight-or flight response. "Are you a prisoner? How about a warm meal and a roof over your head?"
Her words weren't in any way malicious, but he couldn't help but to panic when she pinned him as an outlaw. His breathing quickened when a different voice, the motherly one, called out to him. "We will not mistreat you, but please, speak to us." He looked in the direction of the voice, and was met by something quite hard to put into words.
She was beautiful. Radiant and regal, she was almost hard to look at, the man having to squint in order to witness her glory. And yet, despite her nigh heavenly beauty, the same feeling of wrongness persisted, albeit dying down as melody in the back of his mind intensified for a moment.
Deciding it was finally his time to act, he tried to stand on his legs, finding it unusually hard to keep his balance. Wobbly and unstable, he caught the questioning expression of the tall regal mare, before losing his footing and falling backwards toward the same portal he entered through. Just before he reached the shimmering surface, his leg slipped mid-fall, moving him just enough to fall awkwardly to the tile floor, an echo of a resounding crack echoing through the room.
He didn't feel the tingling as the portal sucked him in, didn't see the horrified looks the ponies leveled at his corpse, didn't hear their screams of terror.
And thus his life ended just as it began: with an unlucky accident.
Twilight stood paralyzed as she watched the mirror consume the body of a pony she didn't even get to know the name of. A life that ended so abruptly, an accident so unpredictable it might've been funny to somepony with a more morbid sense of humor.
Begrudgingly, Twilight's thought process moved past the untimely demise of a pony, and straight to the fact that their otherworldly colleagues sent a live representative, and received a dead one, all within the span of five minutes.
Resolute to explain the situation before it could get out of hoof, she stepped through the mirror.
"Please tell me this is an out of season April fools joke." Alex's words hid a hopeful undertone, but were otherwise very dry. Deep down the man knew that the foreman wasn't one to joke, but hope is the last to die.
The well built man shook his head, his arms crossed on his chest. "We've had a dozen workplace accidents and equipment malfunctions per day ever since we started trying to move this statue." His brows furrowed as he counted the digits of his hand. "The trucks popped tires or stalled, the electronics kept frying on us, and even the damned pickaxes and hammers were either breaking after a single strike, or would slip out of our hands every other minute." He wiped the sweat from his forehead, his expression turning grim as he continued. "Worse still, we found a vacant bunk bed after yesterday's shift."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess, standard issue bunkhouses don't come with any extra space?" The man shook his head in response.
"No sir, it has just enough space to fit one working brigade, no more and no less. And one more thing..." He rummaged through his pocket, pulling out a wrinkled photo. "Take a look at this." He handed the thing to Alex, who studied the photo with utmost diligence. A group of eight men, all covered in dirt and dust from a day's hard work. He couldn't put a finger on what was exactly wrong, but the longer he looked, the more anxious he got. Finally, after a good ten seconds of standing still, he managed to voice the one thing that came to his mind.
"Aren't brigades supposed to have-"
"Ten?" The brigadier finished, his voice low. "Yeah, we're s'posed. And maybe we've had ten people when we came here." He took the photo away from Alex, stuffing it into his pocket. "Maybe that statue did something' to my people, messed with 'em, like it did with the machinery and tools. Or maybe it didn't, and it's nothing more than a logistical error. Whatever it is, I'm not willing to find out."
"I'll look into it." Alex said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "In the meantime, try building a tent over it or something." The brigadier nodded, walking off to gather his remaining colleagues, leaving Alex with an errant thought.
Just what the Hell is wrong with Canterlot?
The statue's surface rippled and bent, signaling the arrival of the first of the many D-Class to partake in this series of tests. Dr. Turner nodded at the nearby guard prompting the latter to approach the statue, ready to catch the returning human in case of disorientation.
Both men were reasonably surprised when a distinctly equine shaped form fell out of the portal, dropping like a bag of bricks to the concrete floor. An audible crack reached Time Turner as a pair of glassy, unseeing eyes stared at the researcher, a slow trickle of blood beginning to form a small puddle under the form's head. A bright orange jumpsuit concealed most of the body, a surprisingly bulky recorder strapped to it, the buttons all too large for the human hand.
The guard squatted, checking the creature's pulse. "He's dead, but still warm. Whatever killed him, it wasn't all too long ago." Doctor Turner sighed, gathering his belongings from a nearby table.
"Keep a close eye on that portal, in case whatever kills our D-Class comes through. Speaking of, get him to medical, I want to see a coroner's report ASAP-"
Violent ripples across the marble's surface announced the arrival of a second visitor, the bipedal form of a young woman, her wet violet eyes darting from human to human. Her lips trembled as she noticed the still form on the concrete, her words interrupted by sniffs and hiccups as she spoke.
"I - I can explain. W-we didn't mean to scare him..."
Twilight took a step towards the doctor, freezing when the guard aimed his HK417 at her.
"Ma'am, not a step further." Shock and confusion blended into fear as she watched the guard motion to his colleagues. "We need you to answer some questions, please, follow us." Time Turner watched the girl as she began to shake, the genuine fear in his eyes leaving the man with no choice but to intervene.
"Miss Sparkle is clearly distressed, no need to terrorize her further!" Turner put his hand on the guard's weapon, only to be met with resistance. "This is entirely unnecessary, a civil discussion will surely work." The guard scoffed, refusing to concede.
"With all due respect, sir, it's my job to keep you safe. This thing hurts you?" He pointed the barrel at the young woman, who flinched in response. "I get the blame." Turner rolled his eyes.
"Well then, be sure to notify Miss Petrichor that my untimely demise, if it's to occur, was out of my own volition, and I am wholeheartedly responsible for it." Time Turner forced the guard to lower his gun, picking up his notepad from the table. "But in the meantime, we're just going to talk."
The pandemonium of the first few days was mostly gone, but the student body of Canterlot High was abuzz with wild theories regarding the white tent erected around the monument on the school property, and the mysterious figures swarming around it. Rumors born through hushed whispers spread like wildfire throughout the school, the subjects of these rumors ranging from the odd roadblocks preventing exit from the city, to the unusual amount of students calling in sick.
Being the center of everyone's attention, it is no wonder that when a black body bag was carried out of the tent by two armed guards, the entire school was hit with a veritable tidal wave of paranoia. The teachers were thankfully able to quell the panic that followed, if just barely. It was during recess when a group of six gathered around a lunch table, talking about, what amounted to, latest gossip.
"I heard Teardrop see what was inside that bag!" Rarity's voice was down to conspiratorial whisper, the general noise of the cafeteria obscuring her musings from prying ears. "She thinks it's someone from Twilight's world!" Her voice was a little shaky from the thought of something like that going on near her, yet the juicy-ness of the gossip overruled any fear she had.
"That girl ain't know for thinkin' all too much." Applejack retorted, rubbing her neck sheepishly once she noticed the odd looks the others were giving her. "Pardon me, Teardrop's been mighty observant as of late, is all." Rarity raised an eyebrow at her friend's words.
"Are you implying she's making it all up?" Applejack sighs, playing with the food on her plate with a spoon.
"Listen, all I'm saying is she's been running her mouth ever since this whole mess started. Shoot, half the stuff everyone's talking about came from her. Some of it has been fake, she ain't no prophet, I'll tell you that much."
"I'm not into gossip, but who knows what these suits are doing here?" Rainbow cut in, much to everyone's surprise. "You can't tell me all the students just decided to call in sick at the same time. There's, like, only half the students in pretty much every class!" The athlete's gotten worked up by the end of her speech, harboring no sympathy for the people disrupting her daily school life.
"For Chrissakes Rainbow, it's the flu season and you know it!" Applejack retorted, her appetite long gone. "I know things are wild as of late, and I know we're all scared, but spreading rumors won't make things better." She let Rainbow's grumble pass, I'm not scared..., choosing instead to change the topic. "Say, Fluttershy, is that critter of yours feelin' any better? Err; what's her name again..." Applejack snapped her fingers a couple of times trying to recall the animal's name. "Sammy, was it?"
"It's Sally, actually." Fluttershy paused, a frown making its way to her face. "Was, Sally..." She sighed, her shoulders sagging. "She had rabies, we had to, uhm... put her down..." She was on the verge of tearing up, the only thing keeping her from breaking down being a supportive pink hand wrapping around her shoulders.
"So it wasn't all horseapples, huh?" Sunset mused, the abrupt ending of her silent spell grabbin everyone's attention. "There are rabid animals in the Whitefall woods." She took a bite of what was supposed to be pizza, but looked more like a piece of colored cardboard, and tasted just the same. "There's at least two things that attention magnet got right in her life."
"Sheesh, what got you worked up, Shimmer? Not enough attention?" Rainbow sneered.
"No, just thinking I should've broken that damned mirror when I had the chance." She rubbed the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. "Or better yet, not coming through in the first place." The awkward silence that settled over the table was soon broken by the one and only Rainbow Dash.
"Wouldn't that be swell?"
"Rainbow!" Applejack reaches to smack the athlete on the back of her hand, only to be stopped by a pearly white hand on her shoulder. She settles down under Rarity's calming gesture, the seamstress turning to address her rainbow-haired friend. "That was uncalled for!"
Rainbow shrugged. "Just think about it: if she wasn't here, neither would these guys! We wouldn't have been separated from each other either!" The girl was about to continue her rant, when Pinkie finally spoke up.
"Rainbow Dash, quit being such a big bad meanie, or I'll bake you a typographic cake and make you eat those words!" Cast still by the party girl's sudden outburst, Rainbow remained silent as Pinkie turned to Shimmer. "And you, Sunset," Her voice went down a notch, gaining a sympathetic tone. "should really stop blaming yourself for everything. We're always here to support you, Sunny. Even if some of us are bad at showing it."
Sunset opened her mouth to answer, but whatever she wanted to say was drowned out by the sound of the school bell, the cafeteria erupting into motion as students hurried to get to class. Sunset stood up, shaking her head.
"See you girls after class." Was all she said before leaving the girls, the tense atmosphere remaining despite her departure.
Preliminary testing report
13.10.2016
It seems that the portal's effect only triggers if a living subject crosses the threshold. Further testing employing braindead subjects, and those in a deep coma, revealed that the item requires human brainwaves for the effect to trigger. Using helmets made of ████ that worked as a miniature faraday cage, we were able to isolate the subject's brainwaves, thus allowing one to pass through the threshold without experiencing its effect. This will certainly make further research regarding the 'Equus', although various personnel reported a feeling of 'unease' that seemed to fade as time went on. Notably, the feeling persisted if the subject continued wearing the helmet, returning to those who previously reported it gone.
The autopsy of D-4558 revealed cause of death to be damage to █ and █ cervical vertebrae, which resulted in near - instant death. Due to the threshold's effects, D-4558's body resembles the threshold's residents. The subject's anatomy, later described as an 'earth pony' by our mirror colleagues, largely follows that of an Equus caballus. Notable differences include:
-Noticeably larger eyes
-Larger brain, comparable in size to that of an average adult human male
-Unusual coloration of fur on the subject's flanks, forming an upside-down horseshoe
-Unusually high concentration of sensory neurons in the subject nervous system, particularly in the legs
-A set of cells composing an entirely new system, seemingly auxiliary to the nervous system, purpose currently unknown
For a full autopsy report, refer to Doctor Lychee.
Personal note: Most of the D-Class personnel reported something we can describe as an 'uncanny valley' when looking at the ponies on the other side. I'd be tempted to say the front-facing eyes are to blame, but the fact that said feeling returns after putting on our 'faraday helmet'. I recommend continuing to research this phenomenon, something doesn't add up here.- Dr. Time Turner.
Director Daniel Miller skimmed through the report on his table, putting it aside with the rest of the paperweight crowding his table. He rubbed his temples in an attempt to quell the headache he was getting from being cooped up in his office all day, having to deal with myriad reports from agents embedded in the local healthcare institutions. It wasn't anything major, headache, dizziness, sometimes fever.
And yet, sparse reports of smallpox - like symptoms: colorful bumps filled with thick fluid and a depression or dimple in the center coalescing into odd shapes, mostly everyday objects, followed by hallucinations, delirium and uncontrollable muscle spasms. The patients weren't violent, but they seemed to be unable to stop 'trying out new things' as some put it.
Daniel took a deep breath, thinking on what to do next. He really didn't want to get CDC involved in this, or whatever embedded Foundation staff they had, anyways, but he might've had no choice. One thing was certain, he wasn't betting on his side being the indians.
Gleaming Shield trudged through the empty streets of the Crystal Capital, the heart of his homeland. Despite the shield protecting the midnight streets from the biting cold of the frozen wastes, the stallion couldn't help but shiver.
Gleaming Shield was cold.
Not a cool breeze on a particularly sunny midsummer morning, or a brain-freezing but nonetheless welcome sting of a delicious ice cream, not even the contrasting chill of air conditioning after a lengthy workout session.
No, this cold seeped into the core of her very being, numbing his limbs to the point of losing any and all sense of touch. It was a cold one would feel lost in a blizzard of the frozen north during the last moments of their life, the biting cold that soon turned into sweltering heat.
Gleaming Shield was hot.
Not the pleasant kind of hot one might experience with a significant other, not one would feel in a sweltering room of a sauna, not even the uncomfortable heat of a heavy blanket compared to this.
No, this was a sickly kind of heat, like from a particularly nasty bug caught during a flu season, or a Cutie Pox that found a particularly sheltered kid-turned-adult. The kind that made your fur feel oily, that made bed sheets cling to the body. One that retreated once you left the comfortable confines of the bed, leaving an ever-present nausea instead.
He stumbled, his bleary eyes failing to discern anything in the well-lit streets of his hometown. He leaned on a nearby lamp post to halt his descent, a meaty thud followed by the sound of tiny pitter-patters hitting the crystal ground. Bile rose up his esophagus, burning as it poured onto the ground with a sickening gurgle and a shameful splat.
The stallion almost slipped on the puddle of his own shame, barely able to keep himself from face planting into the ground. The sound of his own hoofsteps rang thunderous in his ears, each step forward bringing a new jolt of pain. A pathetic whine escaped his lips as he covered her eyes, hoping to protect them from some non existent irritant. There was a ringing in his ears that refused to go away, a thousand church bells going off from within his skull.
In this whirlwind of pain and confusion, Gleaming Shield stumbled through the empty streets, miraculously arriving at a familiar apartment door. Fighting through pain and fatigue, Gleaming Shield knocked on the door, gritting his teeth until he heard something crack.
"I'm coming, dear!" The muffled sound accompanied by footsteps made the stallion grimace. In a sudden explosion of sight and sound the door flew open bathing the stallion in a ray of light, revealing the reason for his arrival.
What stood before the stallion, could only be called a pony with a most generous definition. It stood on four legs, wearing a white and blue dress revealing the similarly white coat of fur. That was where the similarities ended, though. The mare's features were sharp, angular and contorted beyond belief. A look of hatred was plastered on her face, eyes glowing red as mouth opened just enough to reveal a row of sharp fangs.
"Gleaming, honey, are you alright?" The stallion didn't hear the terrified tone of the mare, didn't see her eyes go wide, and he certainly did not notice the small form behind her duck into the room.
He reacted in an instant, his mind going into overdrive at the assault to his senses.
What stood before him was a monster.
He was a guard, who took care of monsters.
And he was going to take care of her, for the good of everypony.
His mouth stretched into a snarl, teeth clamping shut with enough force to crack one or two loose. An high pitched screech mixed with an animalistic growl as it left his throat, rearing up as he pawed at the air with her hooves, before lunging for the monster.
A shrill scream filled the apartment as the monster shut the door in his face, followed by the crash of hooves against crystal. That monster had done something to his family, and it was going to pay. In his ferocious assault he didn't hear the creak of hinges, followed by rapidly approaching hoofsteps.
Something tugged at his armor, tearing him away from the door, a sizable hole streaming light out of the apartment. Gleaming Shield turned to see more monsters grabbing at him, to keep him from fulfilling his duty. He bucked the assailants with as much force as he could muster, a resounding crack filling the apartment complex as he turned to face his now stunned foe.
The monster laid flat on the crystal floor, clutching at its nose in an attempt to staunch the flow of his essence. It raised its front leg in a pitiful attempt at defense as Gleaming raised his own.
He was going to do what had to be done.
His leg came down upon the monster's body.
Agan.
And again.
Until it stopped moving.
Something heaved dead ahead of Gleaming Shield. The second monster was vomiting on the floor, leaving it open for attack.
He was a guard, who took care of monsters.
And he was going to take care, for the good of everypony.
"The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated"
Hey, had to take care of some shit IRL, sorry for the massive delay! Hopefully the next chapter will come out before autumn. 
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Eyoo, next chapter!
Hm, something is cooking up in a direction I didn't expect, albeit I should've guessed it already. Let's see how it'll continue
SCP-style depiction of our little ponies is just a treat
UhOH.
Is the induvidual protection methods being employed by the Foundation in close proximity to the portal causing distortion and loss of reality synchronisation between realms and realities, causing the very effects they believe they are trying to prevent?
The real problem that for any generative game engine, theres a whole bunch of current extremly esoteric research that can be abused to allow such effects to be theorised and computed.
The Tiger In The Living Room is OLD.
I really hope they dropped that guy before he got any further.
Weird how the director doesnt see the transformation sequence from Teenwolf etc where the skin is generating fur maybe?
This is getting really interesting, now we only need more violence
My bloodlust for children is staved of once more. Let's see how long it will stay like that.
Cutie pox on Earth, rage hallucinations in Equestria, and a secondary effect of the portal, it will NOT allow itself to be moved on the earth side.
11626797
Sir, I'd like to see the missing persons reports from your area.
11626539
Your wish is my command
I guess Equestria have they own anomalies and is downright possible have they own Foundation to habdle them.
This sounds like SCP-750.
Maybe he could’ve had rabies
This is a great story and I can’t wait to see how it turns out!!
It's open portal effect. The same one Starswirl was warning princesses about.
SCP also knows about it, they had history with portals.
Realities overlap