>LOAD/ROOT/INT/PERM/VIS_016.evi
They say that evil has no face. They are full of shit. Now, they don't know what "evil" is - I just adopted their definition of "everything we don't like" - but even considering that, they are contradicting themselves. Evil needs to have a face. A visage.
The Equestrian nation has always had these… prejudices against certain figures. Stereotypes, maybe. Rulesets to abide by if you were one. They have written a historical book on what you needed to be in order for their tiny quadrupedal populace to fear you. Truly fear you.
The Windigoes were alien, unknown, and disappeared without a trace. Noticeably, most depictions have them be white.
Discord was a mismatched creature whose only reason for being was chaos. Primarily dark brown.
Nightmare Moon was goodness corrupted and wanted blackness to reign. Mostly based off Princess Luna, so the dominant color was something of a nocturnal blue.
The Changeling horde tried to drown them in their black bodies once the government had been dispatched. Green eyes.
King Sombra was a tyrant, and he wore black. Also green eyes.
Always something scary. Something intimidating. Preferably black or just very dark. Something alien to the colorful equines, something to instill fear into their puny little fleshy hearts. Something to unite and stand against.
Something… big. Something they can’t associate with. At best it would be perverted so that they would never think that the villain before was the same as the villain was now.
And, finally, the statistical majority seemed to spot dark colors.
That was what I figured. That was the image.
Big, bad, evil creatures that come get you in the night. Villains. Bedtime stories.
An archetype that got so deep into their puny heads that sometimes, they didn’t know what to fear. And then they were just confused. They never understood.
So I kept searching for an image. I kept searching for someone to test that image on. I kept looking. I always looked. It was what I was.
I also tried to find the important ones. Someone who could understand. Someone to integrate and add to the digits. Someone... special.
The clock buzzed and it was time to go through places of interest again. This day was not eventful up to this point. Not much happened, on a country-wide scale. Watching them rule their lives. Helped me build up finances. Blackmail is very fruitful. Too bad you can't buy an image with money.
I punched the key a few times.
The white snow seemed grey on the grainy screen. Endless blizzard. Armed guards holding the wall vigil. Frozen North. Close, not quite. Cam 01-12.
The halls of the castle with grim masonry showed but shadows of avian figures speeding in their respective directions. One passed through the frame, and the phosphoric lenses on the gas mask gave off a special shining, indicating that the selective lighting worked. The Griffon Empire capital. They said that no pony's eyes have ever seen these halls. Maybe yes, maybe no... Cam 02-05-c.
The dark alicorn paced the chamber, looking somber and anxious. Around her floated pillows, mostly for focus. She felt uneasy. I knew she did. I've seen more than enough of what she'd seen to know why she would be uneasy. Oh, that one deserved it so much. I stared at her an extra minute, hoping that she would feel it, and it would drive her even more insane. Princess. Half-goddess. Still didn't know that I watched her sleep every night, did she? Cam 05-01-a.
The placid dark-vanilla sunset dozed off behind the purple hills just north of Canterlot Mountain. The rich color that their Princess gave to the spectacle was lost somewhat through the stream. Cam 06-14.
The darkly colored surface of the many hills took in the same sunset shines, the high beams passing over them and on the small town that lay behind. Cam 06-17.
The gloomy, fog-filled forest shuffled by itself as the day came to a close, nocturnal predators unpacking and starting their hunt. The screen flickered a few times as energetic beings messed with the transmission. Everfree. Never wanted to mess with it. It was a miracle that the network spread so deep inside. Cam 07-03.
The darkness-shrouded ruined chamber was still, safe for the figure in the center of it. It stood still, but the occasional strain-induced flicker of the camera caused its slashed grin to sometimes look up right into my eyes. This one I never liked. The only one I had to purposely censor out. I can’t look at IT too much. Too bad it doesn’t share that viewpoint. Cam 01-05.
The industrial district exhaled the rainbow smoke steadily as the workers’ day came to its end, and other workers took their place in the streets. The weak neon seemed so much more fitting with the grains crossing over. Las Pegasus. One of the farther reaches. My network was still trying to breach further. Cam 13-05.
The white unicorn stallion with an unkempt long mane was shouting something at a griffon across the room, receiving shouts back, all of it in High Griffon. This was my subtitle function test camera. It's been over a month, and they kept shouting at each other, every day, at different times. The unicorn was a complete psychopath, especially when drunk, I've learned. I read him when I first saw him in the frame. Special, yes. Not in a good way. But something about him was different... For one thing of many, the cameras seemed to flicker a lot more. I still haven't figured the causes out. Cam 01-24-d.
The marching dozens of armed, winged forms rehearsed their maneuvers for the next day’s checkup one last time before the alarm rung once more. The clouds looked so solid in compression. A Griffon military camp just on the Equestrian border, where "no military establishments are to be based". I still haven't found a good bidder. Cam 26-06.
The distant shape of an equine bucking one of the many apple trees was exactly in the same spot it was each day at this time. I zoomed in on her, losing some of the quality. And again, she looked right at me. Her green eyes shone so well, such a familiar color. Sometimes, I felt like she was special. Like she somehow understood. Some other times, I realized that all she was was a backwater farmer not worthy of any recognition. But her eyes... her eyes were special. Cam 06-08.
The twitching, artificial figures of varying size, state and species trod the halls to keep their limbs operational. Their blank eyes and blabbering caused artifacts to appear on the screen. They were special, alright. Cam 01-11.
The dreary, half-empty mansion was still as dark and dusty as always. My lighting test ground. Perfect amalgamation of lights and shades, and moving objects as well. I could swear that from time to time, things there started to shake, as if haunted. Hauntings were not my area of expertise, but... It definitely helped finances in its own way. If only not for the owner's crooked figure, sometimes pacing back and forth in his rigid manner. I was watching history die before my own eyes, and just this once, my assistance was unnecessary. Cam 01-09-a.
The librarian was sorting books one last time before her shift for the day would be done. She would pitch her head back, wincing slightly, and shrugging in annoyance. The last book took its place, decolorized in the imperfect transmission from Ponyville. The unicorn looked back one more time, and her eyes met mine. She was special. Everyone knew she was. Too out of reach. Too much even for my network. I wonder if she knew, or simply felt. Cam 06-18-a.
The Enforcer’s office, visible through a small window in the secretary’s cubicle. As clandestine and motionless as the Enforcer himself. He stared, but not at me. He always did. He was special. Too special. Nothing I want anything to do with. Not even a good source of blackmail. Not until I find something to edit in properly. Cam 01-07.
The bar was heated with argument, a goat in a suit and a large unicorn yelling at incoherent shapes, lost to the automatic recolorization. That unicorn… Oh, it was interesting. Was he finally out? Probably. Never considered that. He was special, too… Cam 01-04.
But most of them were always just confused. If they ever noticed. Never afraid.
Was it a good thing? I thought it was. They would not think straight if they were afraid. They would mess it up. Keep them unknowing, keep them comfortable. Look. Wait.
And then it turned out that they weren’t fit even for that.
I wince as the keyboard suffers another bash. It is very difficult to keep my temper. A strenuous task, to say the least. It was hard to get where I did, but remaining there and advancing… These parts had hitches of their own, oh, they did.
These figures they feared so much. They had a face. An image. A visage. Foreboding, instilling fear.
Another day. Another attempt. This one… This one I had hope for.
>LOAD/ROOT/INT/PERM/VIS_015.evi
I looked at myself and grinned, feeling the sweat stain my glasses just a bit.
The key clicked a few more times as I coursed through the cameras. Which one do I choose? Surveillance was not an option, cams from 4 and further weren’t fully in the network… Too bad. The purple unicorn that I had grown to know so well was the keenest one, perhaps. There were so few of them… those I could compare to myself.
Where to?
Cam 01-07. Something caught my eye.
Two ponies and a goat were lying on the ground and the barkeep was fluttering around, holding her head in dismay at the sight of the missing teeth. The large unicorn from before… he was still standing, talking back and shrugging at the accusations.
Their conversation did not matter, I could not be bothered to turn the subtitles on or the speakers up. I had become good at reading them by motion.
Confusion, disappointment, frustration, slight sadness. He finally turned around and faced the camera.
Yes, that was him. My lucky day. This was someone I remembered. He saw me before. Yes, he did.
I felt such a genuine rush through my veins that I could barely contain myself and grinned, inputting the commands for my field test. He was in the third alley north of the bar. Cam 01-07-g.
>DIRECT/SCT/0107G.csc
“The hell?” I listened to the voice come out of the speakers for this one, slightly fuzzy, but fully coherent.
It worked.
The console and screen erupted from the fake panel on the wall and stared right at him.
>MSG: HELLO
“Roit, that’s… that’s not bloody normal.”
>MSG: HELLO
>MSG: QUESTION MARK EXCLAMATION MARK
“That bog ain’t right, this all’s defunct! Bloody oath!” he clearly knew he wasn’t talking to himself.
>MSG: REALLY, TECHNICIAN
>MSG: QUESTION MARK
>MSG: I FIXED IT
>MSG: ARE YOU CURIOUS
>MSG: QUESTION MARK
“No crap, lollie, that’s not possible. The hell d’you think you are, oi? Cut that out!” he stomped one of his hooves on the ground and for a second, the connection died.
Oh, yes, this was the right one. This was my lucky day. In more ways than one, so many more… not that other numbers were ever necessary.
My face. My visage. Maybe he would even appreciate it.
They all helped build it, in some way.
>START SEQ_0107G.csc
The console went live, and I looked at the camera in front of myself, grinning right at him once again.
“Oi! Oi, I saw the bloody text! You— the hell are—”
My teeth ground together as I was reprimanded one last time. Rookie mistake. He saw the load order. Others… others’d be confused, he wasn’t. I had a good idea why.
This WAS my lucky day. I just needed to work for it.
My visage, darkened and changed and stretched and botched, looked at him. Darkness in place of a face, grey, scratchy background, and piercing pinhole eyes in the middle of the contrasting white glasses. I knew it had the potential to scare.
“That… that ain’t right… That ain’t right, no, no, I…”
Almost. Give it to me, you single digit.
>MSG: PROBLEM
>MSG: QUESTION MARK
“I turned it all off… flopped the wires, bogged the circuits… who are you?”
>MSG: GOOD QUESTION
>MSG: I SUGGEST
>MSG: THAT YOU THINK ABOUT IT
He was scared.
But not for the right reason. My test has failed… for the time being.
The data I got was better.
“Oi! Oi, I’m talking to you! I've got bloody questions, you wanker!The hell—” the large Outback unicorn stared right into the console, and my digital eyes pierced into his mechanical blue ones.
Equestria liked to pretend that it was all so magical. It swept so much under the rug. We… shared a rug. It was old and dusty. And noone ever looked there.
>MSG: I KNOW YOU
>MSG: DO YOU KNOW ME
>MSG: QUESTION MARK
“Bloody oath, no! Who are you?!”
>MSG: YOU WILL FIND OUT
>MSG: T3CHN1T14N
I logged off when his scream had reached a pitch my speakers could not stand. Yes, it was all as I thought.
I was not alone in this world. I had suspected it for some time.
The librarian. The technician. The farmer. The psychopath, maybe. Several others.
There was hope. I had my targets. I knew what to do. All was before me, it was all so right, but…
I had protocol to take care of.
Equestria did not accept that which it did not understand. It needed to fear it. It would not OPERATE PROPERLY if it could not FEAR. I needed to give it FEAR.
And so I looked at my distorted visage, VIS_015.evi, and thought what to add. Incoherent scratches coursing the obscurely lit, decolorized image, my natural intimidating grin, pushed to the limits of color with the contrast of white and black… Greyish backgrounds that flickered to and fro, creating the needed uneasy atmosphere, pinhole eyes hidden behind glasses and the mess of hair, so much of an insane conundrum…
I needed to know what I was, myself. No, I knew what I was. But… It needed updating.
I was the digital shadow that coursed your happy, magical world.
I was the green speck of light that looked at the back of your head when you thought you were alone.
I was the pair of eyes that was everywhere and knew everything.
I was there when you thought you were safe.
I was all, and I was nothing.
I was a big question.
All it did was confuse these null-brains. I wasn’t down to their speed. They would never understand. And I needed them to.
They were just... confused. They did not understand. They couldn't fear! They backed off and forgot, said it was just one of the weird things that happens in the wild North! All the visages I've tried. A blank black figure. A pair of eyes. A crude drawing. An esoteric picture. A mish-mash of convulsing colors. A collage of screen-caps taken off whoever I found. Nothing. They just didn't understand, they called the support, and I would lose my wiring for over a week. How did they do it? How did Discord make himself such a horrendous image that they screamed at the mere sight of him? How did the changelings achieve such a balance of black and other colors to become so intimidating? How?
It couldn't have been actions. I did so much. The things I've done, oh, they were valid for sounding through the whole kingdom. I have watched Northern police detectives vomit at the sight of what I did. I have taken down entire organizations with just a click of a button. I have ruined so much. I have turned so many lives into living pits of whichever hel they preferred. None of it kept. All of it was shushed. Was I too secretive? I couldn't NOT be secretive. No, that would simply be selling out. And putting myself out in the line of fire. I am bold, yes, I fully admit that, but I am not suicidal. I don't want holy crusaders to go looking for me. I can't have that. Holy crusaders don't integrate well into the system, they just don't.
They just don't understand. I am a big question that they keep forgetting.
No image. Just a big question. That is what I've always been. Question.
And then I realized.
“Hmmm…”
I opened the editor and refashioned a part.
Symbolism. They needed symbolism. They needed it all out on a ready plate, so I would give it to them. An identity. An image to remember. To fear. Something to stay. Not just a dark piercing pair of eyes at the top of a badly distorted head, no, no. The Windigoes were wind. Discord was chaos. Nightmare Moon was the night. Sombra was tyranny (he really did cheat out of it with his title and crown). The Changelings were a devouring horde.
I was a question.
Another color into the mix, to drive the point further into the fleshy hearts. Perhaps, my white, blank glasses would have less of an effect then, but… It could just be worth it.
I looked at myself, my irises the dots of two intertwining, disturbing, scratched question marks that faded in and out of their green shade. They never understood. Now they would know something they NEVER UNDERSTOOD.
I needed to try. I needed to see. A birth of a symbol. Maybe, maybe today would be even better. Maybe I would do what I set out to do.
>SAVE/ROOT/INT/PERM/VIS_016.evi
Cam 01-03-c. A young pegasus mare smoking somberly at the porch of her apartment block, the blizzard raging far beyond city walls.
Someone… reminiscent. New. A first try. They would all have their first try. Him… Him they won’t listen to. He won’t tell them, either. He was different, special - she was not.
She was not special at all, and I knew that from experience.
>LOAD/ROOT/INT/PERM/VIS_016.evi
>DIRECT/SCT/0103C.csc
But don’t start just yet.
>MSG: HELLO
“Huh?!”
>MSG: I KNOW YOU
“Wh— what the?..”
>MSG: BUT YOU DONT KNOW ME
That bitch. I knew her through and through.
>MSG: WE NEVER MET
>MSG: LET US FIX THAT
Not showing up commands on the console this time.
>MSG: I AM
"???"
>MSG: QUESTION MARK ELLIPSIS
>START SEQ_0103C.csc
A genius is someone who has figured themselves out. I have. I finally have. It is that by which I will merit other worthy ones now. A good use of an old question. "Do you know who I am? Do you know who YOU are?.."
I grin in the camera.
And she shrieks so well.
The body of pegasus citizen Wanderlust was found in the vicinity of her current residence at 0400A last morning. The coroners state that the victim had succumbed to asphyxiation and severe electric shock. The surveillance cameras appear to have had their footage looped at that particular hour. None of the crystal specialists have had any progress with it thus far. Not even the Outback bastard who, as the Enfie tells me, installed all of that shit, wants to talk. Can’t get him for it, either. He’s already in for minor assault. Enfie’ll pull him out, I’m sure, he always does.
This is the fifth murder like this that we have had this month. We need to GET this fucker. How many serial killers can this frost-fucked place HAVE? We’ve got to start dwindling the stats, because they don’t look good.
If the mayor finds out that they broke into our surveillance system, we are all going out with a bang. On the double, numbnuts. I intend to keep my job.
By the authority of Princess Celestia, the Pierce Heaven Police Department and the Frozen North Emergency Patrol,
or some shit like that,
Commissioner Hoover.