Accidents
Peter opens his eyes in shock, his pupils contracting as he finally understands something.
"What is it?" I ask, frowning as he stands, and closes his eyes.
"Princess," he says, his voice low and rough, "grab onto me. I'll keep you safe."
I frown as I do as he says, and the guards begin to shift a bit, ready to spring into action. "Why?" I whisper, confused and scared.
"The pilot's dead."
As if on cue, the door to the cockpit has a huge hole torn right in its center. A viral pounces on one of the guards, and I begin to tremble and shake as I involuntarily lose control of my bladder: it tore that guard clean in half...
"Hold on tight!" Peter warns, before spreading his arms out wide.
I squeeze my eyes shut as the blimp detonates, and I squeeze Peter as tightly as possible, praying that I may see my mother in the afterlife.
Rainbow Dash
I smile in anticipation as the first blimp touches down. I lean forward a bit, ready to launch myself at Peter.
However, the only individuals that exit from the vehicle are Changeling kids and guards. I sigh, pulling back as I hang my head in disappointment and let my lip form a pout. I feel a hoof pressed to my side, and I look up to see Applejack, smiling sympathetically at me.
"Don't worry, sugarcube," she says, softly. "Ah'm sure he'll show up. He's probably on the last one."
I nod, and Scootaloo holds onto my hoof a tiny bit tighter. I squeeze back, and watch as the children proceed through the respectfully silent crowd of ponies.
I tear up a bit as I realize that more than half of those kids are orphans. Survivors of what is now called the Changeling Catastrophe, those poor children have to live with the things they've seen until they die.
And Scootaloo...Oh, Goddesses...
I tighten my grip on the filly's hoof, and lament the absence of her mother. Nobody has seen the mare since she was admitted to the hospital for alcohol poisoning. I was in the room when they examined her...her liver is totally destroyed, and only a transplant can save her now.
I cringe as I think of the possibility that Scootaloo may soon be an orphan. I'll be totally willing to raise her. In fact, that's something I've known about myself for a while now: I'd be completely willing to replace Scootaloo's mother. But, I just hope, for her sake, that I never have to do that...
The second blimp arrives shortly after the first, and touches down right next to its counterpart. Adults stream out, and a few immediately run for the crowd of children, claiming their own in a flurry of tears and relief. I can't help but smile at how touching the scene is, and I instinctively hold Scootaloo's hoof just a tiny bit tighter as a few children are left without parents. However, they're immediately claimed by close friends as siblings, and I smile at the kindness.
But there's still one Changeling left.
One small, sad Changeling, undoubtedly shunned by the other children even before the massacre. Then again, it's entirely possible that all of her friends died that day.
I feel a pang of pity and sympathy as I watch the poor kid sit there, alone and afraid. However, she sits there for a mere second: a Changeling immediately approaches the poor thing and rests a hoof on her shoulder, immediately adopting her as her own.
As I watch, my own heart crumbles a bit. Heartwarming as the scene may be, Peter isn't an actor in this part.
About ten minutes later, the third blimp touches down. My eyes widen as a Changeling jumps out, immediately tripping due to his lack of purchase on the ground. After he recovers, the Changeling sprints up to Princess Celestia, and I can feel the whole crowd holding its breath.. I take a step forward from the Princess' side, ready to defend her if this should go sour.
"Princess! Princess Celestia!" The Changeling shouts, nearly collapsing as he arrives at the throne. He pants for a few moments, and a pang of fear hits the entirety of the crowd watching. "The...the last blimp...We...We..." He gulps, and Celestia demands that he "spit it out already".
"It exploded," The Changeling manages to utter, fear evident in his eyes as all of his limbs shake. "Th-The Princess was in that blimp!"
"And Peter!?" For a moment, I don't recognize the voice that shouts this. It isn't until the Changeling turns to face the owner of said voice that I realize it was my own.
"Yes," the Changeling responds. "Yes; him too..."
In my heart, several things happen.
First off, a train bores a hole straight through the center of it, and for a moment I consider curling up in a ball and crying for hours, unable to believe that the individual I love more than anything may well be dead.
Secondly, the whole patches back up with rage.
And then, my heart is covered in an icy glaze of determination.
I let go of Scootaloo's hoof, and I'm in the air in a flash, leaving behind Canterlot and the Changelings and everything as I shoot towards the Changeling capital. I feel a Sonic Rainboom shoot off of my limbs, but I disregard it as I keep going faster and faster, hoping to find any hint as to where the remains of the blimp lie.
I feel a second Sonic Rainboom detonate, and a third, and a fourth. I ignore each and every one, and ignore the new pain in my wings, only caring about what terrible fate has befallen my boyfriend.
I involuntarily wince as I think of him as a boyfriend.
Because he's much more than that.
He's everything.
Twilight Sparkle
My jaw hangs open as the seventh Sonic Rainboom tears through the air. The Wonderbolts, who were going to perform an airshow for the survivors, let their readied wings fall to their sides: there's no way they could beat that.
Nothing could beat a crazy Pegasus searching for the love of her life.
"Rainbow Dash! Wait!" I look down away from the polychromatic spectacle to see yet another crazy Pegasus, this one orange in hue, as it runs into the center of the crowd. She holds up a hoof towards the quickly receding trail of Rainbooms, and sighs in bitter disappointment as the maker of said Rainbooms disappears into the clouds. I approach her, and rest a gentle hoof on her side.
"Let her go," I whisper. "She has to do this, Scootaloo. I may not know much about love, but I know that she's going to feel as if she has to find him."
Scootaloo trembles for a moment before turning to me, tears streaking down her face. I'm taken aback for a moment, but I do my best to conceal my initial shock. "I wanna go with her, Twilight. I love Peter, too. Like a dad."
The crowd remains in silence, and I sigh as I usher the poor girl away from the crowd.
"Would it be alright if I bring her inside, Princess?" I ask, fidgeting for a moment as I stand next to Luna. I would ask Celestia, but she's currently locked in a hushed conversation with the Changeling that brought the unfortunate news.
"Yes, of course," Luna whispers. "I will send a guard with you."
I nod, wishing that I could have a bit more privacy than a guard would allow. However, it is a necessary evil, seeing as how the blimp may very well have been destroyed in an act of terrorism.
I hurry Scootaloo through the halls of the castle, and I'm struck by the profound absence of ponies going about their daily business: almost all the inhabitants of the castle are outside, attending the arrival of the survivors.
I bring Scootaloo up to my former quarters, and have the guard remain outside the door. As I enter, I turn my attention away from the filly for a moment as I cast my gaze about what was once my home: all the books, the instruments of scientific research, the charts and posters...They remain where I had left them, untouched and pristine. I can't even find a single speck of dust...Celestia must have cleaned this room every day...
"Is this where you used to live, Twilight?" I turn back to Scootaloo, and smile affectionately as she climbs onto my bed to take a seat.
"Why, yes, Scootaloo," I respond, sitting down next to her, "this is where I used to live as Celestia's student."
Scootaloo nods, and casts her gaze about. "Do you miss living here?"
"Sometimes, yes," I sigh. "I especially miss how quiet it could be when I studied. But I wouldn't give up any of my friends for the world...They're too special to me." Scootaloo smiles sadly, and I smile as well. After a moment, she sighs, and hangs her head.
"Twilight, is there...Is there some way I could go with Rainbow Dash? Any way?" She asks in desperation, her lower quivering a bit. My shoulders sag,
"Scootaloo, I...I'm sorry, but...You can't go with Rainbow Dash. If this...If this was some sort of terrorist attack...Then it's too dangerous for you. Rainbow Dash can defend herself, but she wouldn't be able to defend you, too." Scootaloo sighs in defeat, and rests her head on her forelegs. I frown in sympathy, and pat her on the back with a hoof. "Trust me, Scootaloo. We're just trying to keep you safe, is all."
Scootaloo nods, but I can tell that she's halfheartedly accepting the notion. I frown, and I'm about to interject when Scootaloo begins to speak.
"I'm going to miss him," she whispers, her voice barely a squeak. "I love him, Twilight...He's like the father I never had...And now, he's gone..."
I smile softly. "He's not gone. He's in your heart."
"That's not good enough for me. I want him here. I want him alive..."
I sigh, and pat her on the head. "Sometimes...We can't have what we want, Scootaloo. Sometimes, we have to accept what life gives us."
"Well, life is a stupid cunt!" Scootaloo screams, apparently having lost all semblance of self control. I gasp in surprise, and my ears go flat against my head upon hearing the harsh language. Scootaloo immediately blushes, and her own ears go flat as well. "Sorry...I just...I just..." The dam finally breaks. She begins to sob, and I rest a hoof on her back.
"I miss Peter..."
I nod, and a few tears of my own spill forth. But I keep strong.
I look out the window and to the sky, wondering how Rainbow Dash is handling all of this...
Rainbow Dash
I push rubble around, searching for any evidence of Peter's escape.
The ash sticks to my hooves as I tramp about, kicking debris and rocks about as I search in utter desperation.
"Come on, come on," I hiss to myself, gritting my teeth as I fight back a wall of tears. "He's got to be alive; he's got to be!!"
A pile of ash stirs, and I gasp in anticipation. My cramped wins prove useless, so I simply run over to the motion, digging away as I search.
A foreleg bursts out of the debris, and I jump back in surprise, my heart beating a thousand times per second. As I watch, a Changeling rises from the destruction, its wings torn and its horn chipped.
"Ohmygosh!" I shout, frowning in concern. "Are you alright!? Where's Peter!? Is he alive!? Please, tell me!"
He doesn't answer my questions.
Rather, he jumps at me, his teeth shining as he bares them. I deftly dodge him, scowling as he attempts to jump again.
"What's your problem!?" I demand, examining his body language. He's moving like liquid: it's not natural. Even his eyes...his glowing, yellow eyes...
I trip over a bit of metal, yelping out in pain as I feel a bone snap. I collapse onto my side, and I feel my wing bend underneath my weight, begetting another yelp of pain. I wriggle to see the...thing, and it pounces once more, and I know that I'm going to die.
The last thing I think of is Peter and Scootaloo, and my friends.
And I say goodbye.
Peter
I finally arrive at the crash sight from the camp I share with Metamorpha, searching for the source of Rainbow Dash's voice.
Panting, I immediately see a viral.
And then I see Rainbow Dash.
A split second later, I'm on my knees by Rainbow Dash's side, the viral's body smoking four yards away. I force my arm under Rainbow, and hold her in my arms, stroking her mane as I beg her to wake up. I cringe as the blood from her wound leaks onto my arms.
"Rainbow, come on," I whisper, my lower lip quivering as I cradle her. "C'mon, get up, please..."
Her eyes flutter open, and she smiles up at me, her eyes weak and milky. "You're...not dead..."
I shake my head, tears spilling forth as I kiss her on the forehead. "And you're not going to die, Rainbow. You're going to be okay..."
She coughs, and blood speckles my face. I don't move to remove it, and she immediately wipes it off with a wing. After a moment, she holds her wing up to me, and whispers a single command.
"Take...take a feather..."
I nod, plucking a loose-looking feather out of her wing. She immediately retracts it, and I hold the feather close to my heart as I cradle her, sobbing harder and harder as her life fades.
"I love you," she whispers, blinking slowly as a spurt of blood dribbles down from her mouth. "And now...you'll always have a...part of me..."
My lower lip quivers, and I tuck the feather behind my ear as I gingerly lay Rainbow on the ground. Celestia said not to let anyone see my powers, or know what I can do.
But I say fuck that shit.
"I'm going to heal you," I announce as I hold out my palms, and press them to her sides.
"Peter...I have...a hole...in my chest," she whispers. "You...can't heal me..."
"Shut up!" I shout, focusing energy in my palms. I squeeze my eyes shut and grit my teeth as I push for energy, forcing it up from within me, squeezing my soul for every drop it can spare. I let out an involuntary growl as pain wracks my body: I'm still a novice at utilizing my energy, and this is pushing every one of my limits.
"Peter, you'll kill yourself!" I hear Metamorpha shout from the side. I disregard this as I finally decide that I have enough energy, and shoot that directly into Rainbow Dash. She gasps as it enters her body, and I force myself to open my eyes so I can watch the magic encase her wound and protect it from infection as the energy sends her cells into overdrive: mitosis occurs at such an accelerated rate that it's almost like putting a plug of stem cells right in the wound. I keep forcing energy into her in desperation, and a black tunnel forms at the edge of my vision: I'm slipping into unconsciousness.
As the wound finally closes, I feel something other than energy flow into Rainbow Dash. I panic for a moment, but decide to let it go: if it can protect her, than so be it. I love her too much to let my own concerns get in the way of protecting her.
I look into her eyes, and a weak smile creases my lips before the world goes black, and I collapse onto her chest, utterly exhausted.
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These 'trapped in a simulation' stories always completely blow my suspension of disbelief after a very short time, primarily because the writer somehow expects me to believe technology works in a way it can't, primarily, 'down-loadng' a person's brain into a computer... which somehow 'erases' them from their brain, demonstrating that the author has no knowledge of the workings of the CNS, nor the impossibility of a computer over-writing trillions of synaptic patters which utilize BIOCHEMISTRY while a computer runs on simple electrical currents, meaning the mind stored in the biological system cannot be merely drawn out like a program from a disc. The brain would be more analogous to an unwritable DVD. The computer can copy and play the program stored thereupon, but cannot alter it.
It's on the same level of absurdity as in "The Matrix" where getting beat up in a simulation makes actual wounds to the physical body outside the computer. *teeth-grates* Good god I hated that nonsense.
Ah, so much fiction collapses when one has knowledge of fact. It's why I prefer magical lands. At least magic doesn't have to play by the rules of reality. Science fiction always should to some degree.
This reminds me of .hack//sign.
A program to open up a portal to another world that's only 2 kb? I'm callin' bullshit.
2400349 I know exactly what you're talking about. That's why I actually mocked the idea in the intro by making it totally ridiculous. Most of this story was not meant to be taken seriously.
2400390 I'm calling hacks.
2400390 BITCH IT BE MAGICAL
Also whoever said that Peter isn't an asshole? Maybe he forgot to list the fact that the executive program 2kb, while the things that the executive program accesses fill about ten 40 terabyte hard drives.
2401227
The binary file would still be bigger than 2 kb. Hell, a desktop shortcut is almost that big.
Also... there's more to code than variables.
2401290 I know all of that, I programmed a robot before!
I just didn't want to put so much fucking thought into the preface of this story. I just wanted to give some bullshit explanation and be done with it.
Truly devoted author right here.
2401334piclair.com/data/4m9ot.jpg
2401334
puu.sh/2x4JY.jpg
What'd you program it with? A drag and drop "Drag this here to make it move" program, like what Lego uses for it's NXTs?
What languages are you even proficient in?
So. Equestria's a big simulation that managed to pull this poor bastard into it. Instead of it being a typical simulation on a computer screen following a set rule of logic, and fixed paths for each of the ponies over a twenty second loop, you've gone and created a dynamic country with AI coded specifically for each character.
The binary executable (executable, not executive) is the core fire-up procedure for the program. This is how a computer knows where to start in an application, which is why some game executables are upwards of 9 Megs.
This is a launch procedure for, quite possibly, the largest AI experiment on the planet, simulating the AI of over 200000 NPCs which all act like human beings.
Friend. There isn't a server farm on the planet that could process that without melting down. Not unless you put the thing in space. And this is one guy programming the whole thing? Damn, I hope he's got good life support, because programming such a thing would take upwards of a thousand years.
In relation, in order to create a machine that acted like a human, Mega Man X, Doctor Light spent the majority of his life creating the framework and a set of simulations, then stuck his prized robot in a pod for 300 years in order to make sure he acted as he was designed to.
That's AI for a single robot.
This is AI for a full country of lives.
Please, don't use my field as a bullshit excuse for a fic.
2400209
I'll be sure to
2401474 Alright, I understand that I need to take a more mature approach to this issue.
Firstly, I respect the fact that AI is an incredibly difficult thing to program. I do. I actually understand the difficulties of artificial intelligence: the nexus of the brain is incredibly difficult to recreate without an almost limitless amount of data for allocation of just the thought process alone.
However, what you must understand is that this is not meant to be taken seriously. In the first chapter, I called the simulation Deus ex Machina: God from Machine. I was mocking the idea of such a simulation. A lot of this story isn't just this story: it's making fun of certain stereotypical ideas. I know how ridiculous the idea that such a simulation would ever exist is. And that's why I made it like that: to give fellows like you a laugh.
However, it turns out that I only managed to insult you. HOORAY ME!
2401538 I TAKE IT BACK! ABORT, ABORT! DO NOT SUBJECT YOURSELF TO THAT!
Seventy chapters.
Spanning SEVEN DAYS.
ON A FUCKING TRAIN.
DON'T.
READ.
THAT.
FUCKING.
STORY.
2401407 I used FRC Java, but I will admit that I did it with a fair amount of help: it was my first time programming something legit, and trust me no Squee could match the Squee I released when I managed to get the object orientation right.
But, I mostly use LUA, because I started programming with Roblox and making tycoons and stuph.
Also, I would prefer that you refrain from insulting my intelligence. I wrote this story in the hopes that people would enjoy the content, not harp on the preface and proceed to insult me.
And, hey, I could've made it even more bullshit: I could have made it run on Windows 98, rather than Windows 209848463854984647. I don't believe I ever specified the year.
2402625
Wait. It's satire?
Well shit, why didn't you just say so? I can always dig satire.
HA, I thought this was a serious fic for a second! Alright, all good on this end, bud. Apologies for assuming on what the fic was, didn't actually dig into the first chapter. Went off on the description...
Very sorry.
2401403 Okay...You got me there...
I actually just got really hyped on a shitload of candy and wrote whatever the fuck came to mind.
Also, my best friend, theodorehip, already harped on me for, like, a week on how inacurate this story is, but then I reminded him about how he couldn't figure out how to do a Kaioken in Dragonball Raging Blast 2 for a year, and yet I figured out how to do it in five seconds.
2400349 the thing about the "If you die in the Matrix, you die in the real world." is kinda bullshit in the movie.
Morpheus- The body cannot live without the mind.
Me- Well, it actually can. If your avatar in the matrix is a complete embodiment of your entire mind, and it dies, then your mind may cease to function. However your body would continue to operate, so long as the brain stem remains intact. In fact, since this is actually true, the fact that the machines created the matrix to keep all the human's minds in check, rather than just growing a bunch of brain-dead bodies who have no method of opposition whatsoever, really sets off the bullshit alarm. Still, it did it's job, which I'm guessing was to entertain through many well choreographed fight scenes.
2402993 yeah, but with just the brain stem, you can't really entertain conscious thought, can you? I mean, I'm no expert in terms of neurology, but I know that the brain stem is basically in control of the physical body: the MIND is within the brain. So, if you lost your mind forever, it would almost be like you were dead: you'd be totally gone.
Also, remember: in the movie, they don't make the humans just for the fuck of having a simulation. They made a nexus of human brains, that way they could derive power from the voltage that the human brain outputs.
2406297 What I was saying was that the machines harvested the heat and electricity from human bodies, thus they don't need them to have minds. Besides, if they're harvesting the electricity used to power the brain, then what will be used to run the brain? Thst's where the mind is formed, so it's kinda important to the whole concept employed in the matrix. On the other hand, why bother letting the mind develop? Why not just produce fully functionable human husks?
2402993 Yep, exactly. I could accept the Matrix as being a symbolic sort of thing, until the second movie...
Then everything after blew chunks.
2406297 Whiiiiich is absolute BS since the energy required to grow a human being is vastly greater than the amount you would get from trapping every joule of heat and bioelectricity a body creates.
Thermodynamics. Can't break it.
2408129 Ditto.
Admittedly, the third movie shows Neo as being the Messiah: sacrificing himself to the enemy for the sake of mankind and purging the world of sin blah blah blah. Also, when he died, the way he was being held by the...tentacles looked like how Jesus had been when he shouted "My Lord, I press my soul into your hands"
2400349 rewriting the human brain is quite possible, the brain does it itself under odd conditions, and Toxoplasmic Gondii is a parasite bacteria know to alter personality
2425182 It's a very limited manner of re-writing. The parasite utilizes neuroendocrine signaling. And it must happen at the single-synapse level.
To re-write an entire brain would be almost unfathomably difficult. And what we are seeing here is not re-writing, it's akin to ERASURE. We are expected to buy into the notion that the person's entire personality, memories... everything... is downloaded and then re-uploaded every single time he 'logs in'.
That simply cannot happen. Not unless you make a shortcut with ambiguous 'magic' to fill in the plot 'caldera' it creates.
2435129 Well, the humor then was just lost on me. It didn't feel like a satire.
2437964 Hmm, did you know that your name doesn't have the BLUE color the author of a fic usually has in the comments.
A glitch!
2438077 That, or the underscore that makes me NOT Gylden Gl(slashyo)r is there.
I have two accounts: one for when my mom was trying to block fimfiction because I was doing it more than schoolwork.
If you like this story, check out my other account and the story on that one: Responsibilites. (YES SHAMELESS PROMOTING.) It's got over a hundred thumbs ups, and it's about-
Yeah, if you want to find out, read it yourself.
Fucker.