Chapter Thirteen: Critical Error
Chapter Thirteen: Critical Error
One of the courtyards of Canterlot Castle was bustling with activity in the morning sun. Guards shuffled uneasily, awaiting yet another day of gratuitous, intense training provided by the recent enlistee of Princess Celestia, Trainer Storm. Quite frankly, the alien made ninety-percent of the Royal Guard anxious, with the other ten-percent being somewhere between ‘about-to-piss-themselves’ and ‘cowering-in-the-corner-while-sucking-on-their-hooves.’
After all, his rampage through the Castle was far from forgotten.
But he appeared to be running late. Trainer Storm had set out a specific order for all Royal Guard—all except for the Generals, and the soldiers positioned at the main gate—to meet in one of the larger courtyards at promptly seven-a.m, no exceptions. The threat of one month of latrine, cafeteria, and laundry duty was more than enough incentive for the Guard to heed his command.
Over the din of nervous chattering between Guards being on their toes (Storm had briefly said this during a previous session, before he had to excuse himself due to the sudden laughing fit he was experiencing), two particular troops talked amongst themselves.
Sergeant Steel Wing tapped a hoof against the ground impatiently, looking towards Lieutenant Emerald Mist. “Ma’am. Do you have any idea when... Trainer Storm, will arrive?”
Mist shot a warning glance. “Watch the contempt in your tone, Wing. Last thing you need is for him to hear you, and damn the rest of the platoon with stricter exercises. Again.” The Unicorn mare looked over the crowd; still no sign of any weirdly-clothed bipeds. “As for when he’ll show up, I’m afraid I don’t have an answer.”
Steel Wing snorted loudly, and began muttering under his breath. “Figures. Giant ape is probably shaving his naked body and plotting to assassinate Their Royal Highnesses—”
With speed that attracted more attention than intended, Emerald Mist spun about and ignited her horn. Wing’s mouth clamped shut in a turquoise aura. “Not. Another. Word.” Sergeant Steel Wing was somewhere between afraid and angry; did the Lieutenant actually respect the thing? Despicable. If the Princesses hadn’t approved of Trainer Storm, he would wait until the alien fell asleep and...
“What in the blue hell are you all doing?!”
Several rather unmanly sounds from individuals who would later swear they had male genitalia emanated as the figure of Storm appeared out of nowhere. And by nowhere, it was actually directly behind Sergeant Steel Wing in a cataclysmic explosion of sound and light. To his credit, it only took the Pegasus a whole minute to catch his breath.
Storm stared with a stone-cold expression at the petrified Ponies in the courtyard, wisps of his overzealous arrival flittering about his person. “Well? What are you all waiting for? Get into your flights, maggots!” Multiple soldiers shouted ‘sir, yes sir’ as the mass of Royal Guards quickly established their ranks and stood at attention. Storm vanished silently, and reappeared at the front of the assembled troops with a less-explosive pop, hands clasped behind his back.
“Alright, cadets. Today, you’ll be doing something a bit... different. I acknowledge the fact that for the past week since I’ve been instated as your primary instructor, you have all been worked to the bone—courtesy of moi. As such, I am granting you all the privilege of not having to go through your Death Techniques for today’s Day Session.”
Storm allowed the soldiers to exhale an enormous amount of relieved air; Storm had began using the Death Techniques he had cataloged from over hundreds of civilizations in order to build backbone and endurance for the Royal Guard. It was so arduous and brutal, that some soldiers lost consciousness and couldn’t continue on during several instances.
Rumor was that it was only the Princesses that kept Trainer Storm from dishonourably discharging them via solar banishment on the spot.
After a few moments of apparent whispering to himself, Storm continued, slowly pacing back and forth in front of the Guard. “Now. Today, you all will be sparring. A new form of it, that will test your capacity to function as a group. I will select three random soldiers to make a squad, regardless of rank; each group will have one of each of your races.” Minutes passed, and eventually the teams were assembled. “Excellent. You are all competent enough to figure out who's your partners without having to ask for a repeat. Congratulations.”
Emerald Mist rose a hoof, ignoring the monotone celebratory fireworks accompanied by bland victory music that were, for some reason, going off behind Trainer Storm. It wasn’t the first time that Trainer Storm used his strange (but undoubtedly powerful) magicks to prove a point. A nod was granted in her direction. “Sir; are the groups going against one another?”
He smiled. “Nope. Today, each group is fighting against me.”
...
...
...
Unconscious bodies fell to the ground.
Despite the now halved numbers, Storm began speaking once more as if a couple dozen Royal Guards hadn’t just keeled over in shock and fright. “During these matches, I will refrain from using any weapons in my personal arsenal, or extreme magicks. You, however, may use whatever tactics you wish to best me. Only stipulation is that you cannot leave the designated area.”
He paused for a moment, and then continued as if in afterthought. “Groups will be provided the option of choosing a training sword, if they’re comfortable using the tool. If not, it’s up to your hooves and whatever innate abilities you have.” Harsh squinting was sent towards the arranged stallions and mares. “Do not hold back during your fights, or you will get hurt.” A magical scroll phased out of existence and into his waiting hand. Storm glanced at it. “Squad Alpha! You’re up!”
Without a visible hint of nervousness, Squad Alpha trotted forward. Composing said unit was Lieutenant Emerald Mist, Sergeant Steel Wing, and Private Golden Hoof. One of each race, each with varying emotions coursing through their minds as they stared down the casual smile worn by Storm. While Mist was planning a strategy, and Golden Hoof was planning not to wet himself, Wing was trying his best not to let on the sheer pleasure rippling through his body.
This was his chance. Storm would be holding out, and gave a green-light to let loose. If Steel Wing used his teammates just right, he could strike down the threat to Equestria and Their Royal Highnesses in a single, brilliant stroke. All the fame, the glory, the pensions and medals! The stallion was practically giggling in excitement.
They took their positions, with Mist in the center and the stallions to her flanks. Storm calmly walked towards them, and motioned to the group of guards. They quickly formed a spacious ring around the triad and Storm, giving ample room for them to do battle. One of the Unicorn soldiers trotted out with three dull, iron swords in his telekinetic grasp. Emerald Mist and Steel Wing took their offered weapons, but Golden Hoof waved him away politely.
Storm rose a brow, but shrugged. “I’m surprised some of you took the blades. This’ll be great fun.” With a flick of his wrist, Hoof’s unwanted blade appeared in his grasp.
Emerald Mist rose a hoof. “Sir, didn’t you just say that—”
“—I wouldn’t use any weapons in my arsenal? Correct, Lieutenant. Then again, this sword in particular isn’t a part of my collection, is it? After all, it is the exact same weapon you and Steely over there have.” Sergeant Wing barely restrained a snarl behind his lips at the pet name. “Don’t worry, I won’t use it seriously.”
For a time, the two parties stood there, facing off against one another. Irritably, Storm tapped the stone floor of the courtyard with his sword. “Are you forgetting something about ring etiquette, cadets?”
Realizing their mistakes, Squad Alpha gave a synchronized bow towards their trainer, lest wrath was brought upon them. Storm copied the motion, and took a step back. Raising the sword in a single hand to his sternum, and keeping his free hand open in a parallel, he smirked. “Quick tip: don’t blink.”
In that moment, he disappeared without a trace.
Before they could even get back-to-back, Storm appeared mid-leap from Wing’s left-flank, blade poised in a reared-back stab and ready to maim. Corkscrewing around with a propulsion of his wings, the Sergeant met Storm in the air with his sword firmly grasped between his two forehooves.
“Good counter,” Storm murmured to his aerial opponent as he went with the momentum and slammed a vicious elbow into Steel’s muzzle. He skirted off a short distance with the daze of the blow disrupting a straight flight path. Landing in a crouch, Storm raised his blade against Golden Hoof.
Said stallion however was quite literally quaking in his armoured shoes. Dodging a slash from Storm, he did the only thing he knew how to do: buck for all he was worth. Instead of finding purchase in the abdomen of Storm, however, he felt something wrap around one of his rear-hooves.
The next second, he was being swung over the human’s head and down onto the stone floor. Several guards not apart of the sparring winced at the impact, but otherwise kept silent. Storm made a move to stomp and incapacitate one of Golden Hoof’s legs, before a bolt of arcane energy whizzed towards his being and clipped him.
Since being in-tune to the Barrier was counter-productive to training the Royal Guard, Storm had ahead of time unsynced most of his connection. With this, however, he lost a large majority of his magical immunity. The price paid was him stumbling back heavily from the blow. A smile arose on his face as the sword in his grasp blocked another bolt. “Nice shot. Fire to kill, though; not to stun.”
Emerald Mist took these words to heart fairly quickly, unloading silos of arcane might against Storm as he navigated the sparring ring. Golden Hoof and Steel Wing were in hot pursuit after they recovered, constantly assaulting him with both aerial and ground-based melee to keep him moving. Storm couldn’t help but smirk, before he faded out once more.
For several seconds, the trio stood back-to-back, anxiously observing the guards staring in rapt attention at the scene. A shimmer appeared to Mist’s left, and the three of them lunged for it. They came up empty-hooved, and suffered the consequence as Storm reemerged and, with a hook of his arm through Wing’s foreleg, unleashed a crippling shoulder throw.
The Sergeant tasted cobblestone and the faint tint of blood as he tried to recover from his face being introduced to stone. Golden Hoof set about to getting the Pegasus back up to his hooves, while Mist provided covering fire in the form of magical shockwaves. Storm let out a small laugh, stumbling slightly at the attacks. “You’re all doing decently! I think you’re ready for the next tier.”
In a flash, Storm closed the distance between himself and Mist, and knocked her out with a spinning kick. She fell to the ground, utterly incapacitated due to being unable to anticipate the sudden strike. Several guards openly let out pitying sounds and hisses, while a few bags of bits may have been passed to one another. Storm frowned, staring down at his fallen sparring partner. “Hmm. Maybe not, on second thought...”
Steel Wing’s eyes widened to an enormous degree, and a snarl left his lips. “You bastard!” Shoving Golden Hoof aside and giving his wings a flap, he hefted his blade and pounced towards the human with sword ready. Instinct and reflexes served Storm as he weaved and bobbed around the sweeping arcs of the weapon, occasionally parrying an attack and giving a gentle riposte. “Die already!”
“Control your technique,” Storm critiqued, dodging a particularly close-call that would have slit his throat. “Letting rage and ego into your form will only leave you open to death, Sergeant.” The soldier seemed unresponsive, a manic look in his eyes as he continued to swing. Storm let out an almost-sad sigh, and drove his elbow once more into Wing’s muzzle.
The shot drove the Pegasus away, sending him into a corkscrew and opening the way for Golden Hoof to rush in. He made a valiant effort, but it seemed his limp was still too prominent. Being unable to avoid Storm’s counterattack, he succumbed to unconsciousness quickly along with his comrade via vicious jab to the temple.
It was just Steel Wing left now.
His breathing was heavy, and his wings flapped at an irregular tempo. His human opponent, however, just looked disappointed. He sunk the sword he had into the ground, and crossed his arms. Storm stared coldly at Steel Wing. “Calm down and think, before I treat this like a real fight and gut you.”
Steel’s response to this was a savage roar as he launched himself once again towards Storm. The human had to pay, to suffer. To have such cockiness, such bullheadedness. For Trainer Storm to have the utter audacity to knock out his fellow guards and make an example out of them.
Steel didn’t care if he died. He just wanted Storm to die with him.
A small, condescending smirk arose on Storm’s face, just before he struck Steel’s throat with a knuckle. Instantly, the strength in his wings left him as he pitifully slammed into Storm’s torso, and crumbled to the ground. Storm casually grabbed the free-falling sword while readying his own, and then crisscrossed the blades around Wing’s esophagus.
In less than a few seconds, the charge ended. A reminder that they were being toyed with.
The entire Royal Guard stood stock-still and frozen, staring at the predicament of Steel Wing. Storm merely gave an irritated sigh. “As I feared. You are too arrogant, Sergeant. Too much of a ‘lone wolf’ mentality.” Pulling his swords away from the fallen soldier, he walked past him towards the duo of Mist and Golden Hoof. “Sit there and wait while I rouse your teammates.”
Several moments later, and a healing spell or two, and all three of the guards stood in a line, staring down towards their hooves. Storm stood before them, eyes taking in the three before he addressed the entire crowd. “May this serve as a reminder. Not only to this squad, but to all of you: you are all soldiers under the same banner. Which means that your fellow’s well-being is just as much your responsibility, as yours is to them. If you ignore your friends, you all will suffer for it.”
Storm moved his focus onto Golden Hoof. The guard sensed it, and shuffled uncomfortably. “Private Golden Hoof. You had good footwork, barring your error towards the end. I understand that is a result of a previous injury. I would recover the limp for you, but time will solve it for me. In the meantime, you must remove discomfort from your mind, and focus on the combat. Overall, you did an acceptable performance.” Storm gave a small bow. “I thank you for sparring heartily.”
His eyes shifted to Emerald Mist. She straightened up, and stared straight back with a determined and attentive stance. Another minuscule smile rose on Storm’s face. “Lieutenant Emerald Mist. Your casting has improved a notable amount, and you incorporated the burst-type spell I’ve been teaching to you. But you were still supposed to lead your squad, and you did a rather-bad job at it. You must give shout-outs to them, or else they will flounder across the field like they did just now, and you will get them killed.” Mist’s face darkened with self-depreciation, but it cleared when Storm bowed. “Overall, a decent job. I thank you for sparring tenaciously.”
And finally, Storm’s eyes slid to Steel Wing. Unlike the previous two, a hint of ice entered his tone. “Sergeant Steel Wing.” Said Pegasus tensed up, whether in fear or hatred unknown, but remained silent. “Today, you forgo'd everything I’ve been teaching about relying on your allies and pooling your strengths together. Throughout the entire fight, your sole focus was you besting me; you and only you. On top of this, you let anger make your attacks sloppy and predictable. Emotion will kill you out on the field. Remember that.”
It was obvious the stallion wanted to say something, but he seemed to bite his tongue and keep quiet. A few seconds passed, before Storm smirked. “But you showed heart, despite all that.” Steel’s eyes grew to the size of saucers as his head shot up. “You refused to give me any space to recover, and as such you gave me little chance to plan my next course of action. Rein in your temper, and learn control.” He tilted his body towards the befuddled soldier. “Overall, your performance was adequate. I thank you for sparring ferociously.”
Spinning on a dime, he faced the crowd and reiterated. “Let Squad Alpha serve as a reminder, so you may better yourselves.” Looking back over his shoulder, he dismissed the assembled trio with a wave. They quietly remembered to bow, and walked away. Staring after them for a while, and nodding to himself with an upward quirk of his lips, Storm returned his attention. “Next up! Squad Beta!”
-WTIN-
‘I never noticed before, but Celestia’s room is really stuffy.’
That was my thought as I stood within the doorway of her bedroom. After I had finished up with the Guard, I had received a message that Celestia wished to confer with me about a matter, or some-such. I really wanted to just go have lunch. But then I figured if I did that before arriving, she’d be pretty miffed for me not immediately showing up.
I shrugged as I took another bite out of my apple. I’d live with the consequences.
My eyes roamed over the scene before me. Celestia’s room was surprisingly spartan, in comparison to other bedrooms of nobility I’d seen. It was almost a mirror of my own quarters, except slightly larger in both square footing and furniture. She also seemed to have a closet, if the open door leading to several visible attires was anything to go by. Though, why she needed one when less than one-twentieth of the population wore clothing, was beyond me.
Celestia laid in bed, being attended to by a nurse. Her condition hadn’t improved since that first diplomatic-related meeting I had with the Sisters. At first it was small stuff; light-headed sensations, weak in the knees, exhaustion.
Then the fever struck.
For some reason, my previous irritation that was sometimes borderline rage for the Sisters, subsided substantially once Celestia entered that state. Hours at a time she would lay unresponsive, trapped in feverish dreams. I could tell; at night within my own Dreamscape, I could feel Celestia thrashing about in her own. But I dared not enter, lest whatever was plaguing her became transferred to me.
Some may call that cowardice. I'm prone to agree. Nevertheless, I left her to her privacy, and her agony. Luna had seemed to be taking it rather hard, as well. Without her sister to rely on, Luna actually began to seek me out more and more for opinions on matters. Why me, and not their Council designed for that purpose, I couldn't say. At least, it seemed, with each asking of my aid, Luna appeared to despise me a bit less, and tolerate me a bit more.
My mind forced away these musings as I stared quietly at the flushed cheeks of the Alicorn, a wet rag being run across her forehead and set there. Thankfully, the fever didn’t seem to be incredibly powerful, so mortals could still tend to her. I was indulged by one of the guards that the last time Celestia had a fever, her body emitted such heat that they had to remotely float in huge chunks of ice onto her form for days on end. Considering she was the living embodiment of a big ‘ole ball of hot gas, I didn’t doubt the tale.
Eventually, the nurse excused herself, saying that she needed more cold water and left me alone with the Princess. Without hesitation I approached and settled beside her. It wasn't the first time I found myself kneeling beside her sweating form. Shortly after she had been bedridden, I was called in to give a diagnosis from none other than Luna (definitely shocked me). Despite the three hours I spent hunched over her form, however; I couldn’t find the reason why she was suddenly afflicted. At the very least, it most likely didn’t run the risk of being lethal to her.
Celestia parted her eyes slightly, and looked over towards me. Her gaze was so... glossy, and it seemed the nurse's efforts to keep her cool were already fading away. I sighed, and with words of power I wrapped biting winds around my hands, and began to soothe her sweltering condition. I could not cure, but I could at least assist. “Ah, Storm... when did you come in?”
“Just now,” I said simply.
“Ah...” We sat there for awhile. Such a peculiar position I was in; to still feel such indignation towards Celestia, and yet still offer help. I was either far too kind, or far too insane. Most likely, it was both. At some point, she must have remembered what she wanted to say, because she murmured my name to get my attention. “I thank you for visiting me on such short notice. This topic is... fairly important.”
I gave a nod. “Of course. I apologize that there is nothing I can do to cure you.” It was a half-truth; even if I could pinpoint the source of the disease, I wouldn’t intervene. In the recent nights, the readings I had gotten for the Scales were grim: the forces of Law outweighed Chaos by a significant margin, not to mention the Good and Evil spectrum separate to that. Easing her pain was one thing, but trying to fix it was another. My duty had always been to retain Balance to the best of my ability, and due to what the Scales commanded: that meant letting Celestia remain in that state until it ran its own course. Even if it meant death.
I felt a tiny bit bad that she had to suffer for the good of Neutrality. But my stance was absolute.
Celestia waved out my apology. “It is alright,” she murmured. Her eyes were beginning to flutter shut. I snapped my fingers, and brought her back to the waking world. “Oh, right. I called you here to inform you that the Elements of Harmony are returning to Canterlot. They will most likely arrive within the next hour by sky-carriage.”
My brows furrowed; hearing that those girls were returning was pleasant news, to be sure... but why Celestia had to call me into a meeting personally for it mystified me. “That’s good. I’m guessing they’re being called in to protect your capital while you’re in this state and Luna is distracted by the courts?”
She frowned. “No. They just wanted to check up on me.”
My mouth parted. “Oh.” Strangely enough, I didn’t think of that possibility. Maybe my head was still too focused on a lack of feelings in order to train the Guard. I suppose with them being friends—at least, I thought them to be—that such concern would be an obvious conclusion. “How are you feeling, by the way?”
Amusingly, she scoffed. “Not that well, I’m afraid. I can hardly get out of my own bed without assistance, and even trying to hold conversation with you now tires me.” As if to accentuate this point, her head slumped further into her downy pillow. "How was the training of the Guard today?"
I gave a complacent shrug. "About as well as any other day. Your Royal Guard are leagues above where they were some time ago, at bare minimum." I trailed off as I realized; I had been in Equestria for a while now. Nearly a month, including the whole pre-possession assault into the city bit. Time certainly flew for me. I blamed my internal time-index.
“There is something else we need to talk about.”
I raised a brow at the rather-serious tone of Celestia's voice. I paused in my ministrations, and dispelled the magic. “Very well. What is it?”
She paused, before she began speaking. “I’ve been watching you train the Royal Guard, even while imprisoned here in my own room thanks to this fever. You seem to have a natural talent and knack for leadership and commanding, and it is through your actions that my citizens can feel safer in the future.” Celestia giggled, softly, before she addressed me with a worn smile. “I misjudged you, and I am sorry for that.”
She took a few seconds to catch her breath, giving me time to think over what she said. There was a certain warmth in the way she was speaking to me, a tone I only seen her use for her citizens. Figures that it took illness to lower the crude barrier she had set up between me and her. This was the first time I was actually being thanked by either of the Solar Diarchy, after all. “Better late than never,” Ed chimed in.
‘Back already? I thought you were going to work for a while longer.’
“Aye; I need a break from all that code though,” Ed groaned in my head as he fully reestablished himself with me. “Let’s hope we never run into another Lock for as long as we remain.”
I smirked, lightly. ‘That is something I can get behind.’
Celestia’s words brought me out of my conversing with Ed. “For the past near three weeks, you have transfigured our Guard from an honorary position to a status that will inspire future generations of Equestria. Many of the guard and nobility, even me and my Sister, have treated you at times with disdain; yet you do not lash out, or become violent and pensive. You remained to right wrongs that you admittedly did not need to do."
The way she was looking at me was different, to be sure. Friendlier, gentler... Oh Fates; she wasn't leading up to announcing love for me, was she?! I waited with baited breath as she gave another lopsided smile. "You are... a good individual, despite everything.” Her brow scrunched up in concentration, perhaps thought, before she promptly blew my mind.
“As such, I fully absolve you of your debt to Equestria.”
My mind slowed to a crawl, staring down at Celestia. Well, it was better than what I was fearing. Ed didn’t even have a quip ready. But... did she really just...? Had I redeemed myself so easily in her eyes that she felt I no longer had to pay for it? It’s hard to say, because in that silence Luna rushed through the door. “‘Tia! We need to get Stor—” My name died on her lips as she saw me casually standing over her sister’s body.
For some foolish reason or another, Luna grew a faint rosy-tint to her cheeks. I rolled my eyes and turned back to speak to Celestia, only to see her eyes growing heavy. She tittered as if she was a madwoman. “Oh, Lulu, Storm; when did you get here...?”
I gave a nod. “Uh, yeah; we arrived just now.” Luna seemed ready to say something, but I glanced at her. She wisely decided to remain silent. Celestia nodded, and thanked us for visiting, but apologized saying she was feeling really tired. I just quietly nodded again, before her eyes fluttered shut. My attempts to reawaken her fell on deaf ears. I snorted. “Seems she’s lights out.”
Luna’s eyebrows lowered. “So it seems...” She rubbed a gilded-clad hoof under her chin, before turning to look at me. “No matter. Us two can resolve this issue, I suppose. Come with me.” Without even being able to say ‘what?’, a bright flash engulfed my vision.
I grumbled and began rubbing my eyes. “Ah, what the fuck was that for? Damn bright light-flashes...”
Luna stood, eyes wide in confusion. “My teleportation spell backfired...”
One of my brows was about to visit my hairline, before I realized the problem. “Oh. Apologies for that. Ed just synced back up with me, and that reconnected me to this Universe’s Energy Barrier.” I stared back at the uncomprehending eyes, and sighed. Explanations after so long were a real pain. “That means I’m a part of magic, and it takes powerful spells to actually influence me.”
She gave an irritated snort, but shook it off. “Fine; we will simply walk there. Come along; we must make haste.” Trotting out briskly, I followed after her in the mare’s wake. But not before I shot a glance back at Celestia. Did the fever affect her mind, and make her release me from that debt? As well as the comment about me being a good person? It was hard to say.
I decided not to put too much weight into it, and followed after Luna.
-WTIN-
I stared at the door, my curiosity steadily rising. It stood in the middle of the audience chamber, with no clear support anywhere around it. Strange patterns were carved into the mahogany surface, constantly changing as if it had been enchanted to do so. I watched as a massive serpent devoured a moon only to turn into a murder of crows that scattered when the image of a sun rose. Even more curious were the two words carved at eye level, in English no less.
Knock. Knock.
The ‘knock’s were the only carving on the door that did not change. Behind me, the guards and Luna shifted anxiously, awaiting me to do something. I had to admit; being dragged to the audience chamber by Luna in such a rush made me expect the worse. Like, apocalyptic-level worse. Having a mysterious magical door squatting in the room, though, wasn’t what I figured would be there. Taking a shot in the dark, I spoke. “Who’s there?”
Nothing happened. The words remained where they were. Above them, however, a carving formed of a human raising its hand and rapping it against a door not unlike the one before me. So, I did as the carving did, and I knocked against the door twice.
The ponies all gasped in surprise as all the carvings vanished in an instant. I stared blankly at the unmarked wood.
I scoffed at the door. “That’s it? Bit anticlimactic, don’t you think?” No sooner had I finished speaking when words began to carve themselves into the door again. The process took less than a few seconds, but when they were done, I could scarcely believe what I was reading.
Do you know the Muffin Man?
“The Muffin Man?” I asked incredulously.
The words adjusted themselves. The Muffin Man.
The laugh that escaped me startled the ponies as I turned to speak to them, eyebrow cocked in bemusement. “Your worries seem to be unfounded, Luna. This piece of wood appears to have a telepathic bond with whomever is closest to it.” Grinning proudly, I turned back to the door. “After all, the carvings took on human shapes when I stepped up, and even managed to pull up an old nursery rhyme from when I was growing up from my memory. It’s an impressive feat of magic, I have to admit.” I examined the writing, expecting it to change, but nothing happened.
“If that is the case, Storm, then why didn’t it change when we approached it?” Luna asked, saddling up tentatively to me to address the door.
My response was just a shrug. “Can’t say. It might be meant for me, on second thought.” The consideration causes my brows to furrow in thought. “If that’s what is happening, I can only ask why.” I reexamined the door; still no means to open it. Just that one phrase. “‘The Muffin Man...’”
Repeating the line caused nothing else to happen, save for a small crease to appear under the words, as if underlining them in exasperation. I crossed my arms. “Ed? What are your readings on this thing?”
“Nothing bad, from what I can detect,” Ed’s voice muttered. I gave a small grin at Luna jumping at the sudden sound of my companion’s voice. “I don’t think interacting with it could cause any harm, though I would still be cautious.”
Tilting my head in thought, I hazarded another guess. ‘The Muffin Man’ was an old nursery rhyme from my younger days. Maybe this door wanted me to finish it? It couldn’t hurt. “Yes, I know the Muffin Man. Who lives on Drury Lane, yes?” I was fighting back my laughter. To think these ponies were scared over something this silly.
Then us two know the Muffin Man. The door became bare once more for a moment. Do you seek answers?
“Well, I’m curious as to who made you. Was it Celestia?” Calmly, I rested my hand against the door. The biting chill of the wood caused me to rip my hand away. My eyes widened in cautious worry; that wasn’t natural. Yet I felt no magical residue. What in the universe was this thing... “Is this her idea of a joke?”
You seek answers. A dent in the shape of a hand-print formed in the center of the door. You shall have them.
...In the days to come, I would frequently ask myself why I placed my hand in that indent. I would wonder why I didn’t question the fact that it was perfectly shaped to accommodate my left hand. I would wonder why I felt no trepidation at seeing my hand move of its own volition towards the crevice. And I would regret not listening to Celestia, as she teleported into the room, bedraggled and looking worse for wear, with eyes wide with sheer terror.
“DON’T!”
But her warning came one second too late. My hand was already in place. But nothing happened. Nothing of concern, save for a short humming coming from the slab of wood. I shot the princess a questioning look.
“What’s your problem? Afraid your door’s going to bite my hand off?” I laughed as I began to retract my hand. To my surprise, however, it didn’t budge. I glanced at it in confusion. “I didn’t know you cared so—” Pain suddenly shot through my hand, so intense it actually brought me to my knees and expelled my breath in an instant. My hand was stuck to the door, and my every attempt to free it felt like I was dipping it into a star.
“Ed, what’s happening?!” I howled over the sounds of the panicking ponies around me. Looking up, I saw a series of circular patterns form in the door around where my hand was bound. Blood drawn from my hand was flowing into the designs, filling them up rapidly. In the center of the door was a new message.
Universal Anchor Secured.
“I don’t know!” Numbers and figures and all sorts of analytic information filled my vision as Ed tried to figure out what was happening. My vision became to swim by the rapid blood-loss. “None of the Editor’s defensive protocols are working! Everything is seizing up!”
For several agonizingly long moments, I knelt in front of that door as my blood filled the hollow valleys. When the last of the patterns were filled, a reddish glow surrounded the door as the designs melded away. My hand came free suddenly and I stumbled back from the door, barely catching myself before my head slammed against the marble. A glance at my hand showed an ‘x’-shaped wound across my palm.
A series of ticking and clicking sounds from the door drew my attention back to the eldritch abomination. I felt the two sisters stand side-by-side to me, wings flared and horns ignited, as well as guards filing into the Throne Room. Patterns in the shapes of gears and gizmos were whirring away as the door split down the middle and slowly opened wide.
A blinding white light burst forth, preventing me from seeing anything around me at all, save for the one warning message the Editor was able to display across my vision. A line of text I hoped I would never see again.
“WARNING! ARCHITECT-CLASS MANIPULATOR PRESENCE DETECTED!”
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[youtube=www.youtube.com/watch?v=LDwJArADO9o]
2.bp.blogspot.com/-4k-hrmZOX9s/UOyreUUtPCI/AAAAAAAACwM/wpNIepOcSu0/s1600/It+Lives.jpg
I see weeping angels....*Blinks*
This can not possibly go wrong.
Weeeeeeeeeeeelllll He's fucked. . .
tldr.me/13wuk2t.gif
I feel Like this is appropriate for some reason...
[youtube=www.youtube.com/watch?v=yz5BU44_h74]
Replace the medic with storm and the bulletstorm with whatever comes out of that door
Or whoever comes out that door
I found it very difficult to calm down after reading the beginning of The Muffin Man exchange.
Architect-Class Manipulator?
A Moderator?
Nay! Not the Muffin Man!
Touching the seemingly intelligent construct that might spell doom for everyone.
Yep, this can't go wrong at all.
Except that, as usual, it did
nice
God I wonder where Storm when the 40k universe happened. I mean there is no such thing a balance! The closet thing you can get to balance is when you are on the imperiums homeworlds and even there is not that much balance. Order throws itself out the window when the Chaos armies come andChaos also skyrockets.
5155911
My oh my, did I screw that up.
Thank you immensely for picking all this out. I could have sworn those were all squared away with, but then again the last time I picked through those chapters were many months ago. Again, thank you very much; I genuinely appreciate it.
Mist’s face darkened with
this would indicate that the majority of Ponies wear clothes
citizens I think you meant
I figured that it took . Storm is far too full of himself to refer to him as "it".
I saw some other's in ealier chapters but forgot to post a comment before moving on, your story is too enticing
5169151
Thanks once again for the spot-checks. Honestly, ain't paying my current editors enough for this shtick.
UPDAAATEEE!!!!
NOOAWWW!!!!
he boned
what is an architect
Oh crap. Uh, care for some help? I've got an interdimensional army I can assemble...
5384089 Some kind of Eldritch Abomination, methinks.
WHAT A TWIST!!!