> Magnets in a Mare's World. > by Triple-Rainbow > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter 1. My Home World. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Today marks the near end of my incarceration. To the hopeless fools who find this book, I hope you can enjoy the few scarce moments of life you have left, because I will not let you live much longer if you've discovered my journal. You may think these are mere baseless threats from a “colt” as many of you are so willing to label me, but you couldn’t be more wrong. I am not a “colt” or a “stallion”, in fact I am not even a mere human. I am a monster, an alien from another dimension, a mutant. I am Magneto: The Master of Metal and Magnets, and I will rip the iron from your veins if you read even word of my journal. Now, promises to end the miserable existence of others aside, this journal is the one piece of contraband I’ve been able to get my hands on as of today, and I feel like writing something meaningful. I don’t really know why, since I don’t wish for anyone aside from myself to know who I am. However, I suppose an argument could be made that I don’t know who I am. I doubt any younger version of myself could look up at me and call me human or sympathize with the things I’ve done. So, perhaps this journal is a way to say goodbye to the man I once was, a way to bury the sniveling coward who wanted to live in ignorance instead of grasping his destiny. Sometimes, I wonder if I could have done things differently. Perhaps I could have embraced these humanoid aliens that wanted to call me a friend, or maybe I could have found a different path instead of becoming an arguable villain like my fictional counterpart. And then, I remember everything that happened to me in this equine world of super heroes. The taunts, the threats, their screams. I’ll admit, even if it is sadistic, I do take some pleasure in hearing ponies scream. I’m sure I’ll feel amazing when I hear the guards in here scream when I break through their metal cages and metal walls. Leaving the master of magnets in a metal prison, what a foolish choice for mares who act as if they’re superior. I could escape at this very moment, place my journal down, bend the bars of my prison cell, rip off this ridiculous collar, and crush the guards with their own helmets. It would be so easy, and I’ve been incredibly tempted to lash out at their mocking taunts. But I can’t, lest they realize the folly of their choice. If they were to learn about my powers and understand them, then it would be impossible for me to escape again if I was captured by the Harmony League. So, I wait until the day that I may find my chance and escape this miserable prison. And then, I will make this world right. I will topple the systems in place for a better world, one that I can be truly proud of. But, before I speak about the future, I must say goodbye to my past. As I’ve made it clear countless times to these annoying guards, I am not a stallion, I am a human named Xavier. It’s a shame none of the ponies or other creatures here can appreciate the irony of my name and my alias as Magneto. Perhaps if I ever return to my world I can reveal it in a dramatic fashion and see their reaction. I’m sure they’d laugh along with me at it. I need to knock that thought out of my head. I can't return to Earth and that's final. I need to accept that. Anyway, moving on from the disappointment of being the only one who can appreciate my own brand of humor, I am Xavier, or perhaps “was” is a better term. Regardless, I was an average man attending comic con dressed up as the mutant terrorist and revolutionary, Magneto. My costume was nothing too fantastic, a simple Halloween store costume that had all of the essentials. I didn’t have many plans aside from browsing, taking pictures, and perhaps getting an autograph or two while I was there. I simply wanted to enjoy myself and experience something that I hadn’t done since I was a child. The troubles that plague my life now all began with a man in a trench coat and purple scarf. Perhaps he was a cosplayer, or maybe he was an idiot who thought he looked “quirky” or some inane nonsense in that silly getup. He tried to push several items on me, each one a fairly cheap bargain and all well made. The only issue was that I merely wasn’t interested in what he was selling. I didn’t need any props for costumes that I didn’t own, and while some may call me paranoid, I didn’t feel like his prices were right. Quality crafted blades and props were being sold for too low of a price, while the few action figures and other bobbles were far too high, ranging into the hundreds for a six-inch figure of Perfect Cell. I am a firm believer in, “If it’s too good to be true, then it isn’t,” and his seemingly random and insensible prices made me weary of his items. Also, his overall personality and insistency that I buy something from him turned me off. Why would I ever want to buy something from a pestering psychopath like him? Saying goodbye and refusing his staggering offers, I walked away and enjoyed the rest of the day. While I was sitting down enjoying some, rather pricey, food at one of the tables inside, I had placed my helmet down after wearing it for hours on end. One quick break to the bathroom later, and it was suddenly gone. I was absolutely infuriated by someone stealing my property, even if it was just a cheap part of my costume. The couple sitting at a table near mine, lovely people, told me who had taken my helmet and I instantly made my way over to the familiar stand. There, sitting in the dead center of every random prop and item that was strung across his stand my helmet. I knew it was mine, there wasn’t a Magneto helmet at that stand in the first place. That con artist had stolen my helmet and tried to sell it off to someone. In retrospect, I should have gone to security and brought them along with me, but I was upset by this blatant theft that I stormed right up to him and screamed to my heart’s content. I don’t really recall what I said to him, though most of it consisted of calling him a thief and insinuating that he lived in his mother’s basement. Ripping the helmet off of the table, I planted it on my head with a final threat to call security on him. And then, I felt my mind slip away from my body as I fell to the floor. > Chapter 2. Worlds Apart. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Continuing off of my last entry, (I swear I will make Loyal Law swallow that scrub brush if I have to wash the bathrooms again because of a “mistake” in the schedule) my mind and body gave in to the cold embrace of sleep. When I had finally woken up, the convention hall was gone. Clear skies and high trees sat above me, and the sounds of nature filled my ears. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was in the Everfree Forest Park. It was a lovely place before Day Breaker decided to turn it into a battlefield with the Hive Queen, but that travesty happened much later. At the time, I believed that I had been drugged and dragged off somewhere by the merchant and his associates. Had I known the true pain that awaited me, I would have embraced my rapid and terrified thoughts like a sweet dream, latching onto them as a fantasy that would take me far away from this world. A quick search of my torso didn’t reveal any new scars, in fact, it was quite the opposite. The scar I had from a surgery long ago had vanished without a trace, and my usually flat stomach (on a good day, that is) had rippling muscles on every inch, giving me the body of a body builder. A few other things I noticed at a quick search was that the birthmark on my arm had absconded to who knows where, the tattoo I had gotten during a drunk binge was missing, and lastly, I noticed my normal dirty brown hair had been bleached white. As for how I came to that discovery in particular, let’s just say the carpets do match the drapes, and that instantly brought along a new wave of worries. I think I reacted fairly well to my sudden change. Despite what others may claim, screaming is a very practical way of relieving stress and dealing with your problems. Looking back on it, I’m surprised nop no-one heard me screaming. Considering how many “super heroes” here possess some form of acute hearing, there should have been at least one or two coming at the cries of, what they would have assumed was, a stallion. But, it was probably for the best that I wasn’t “saved” by one of those stupid mares. I have had a lot of mares attempt to court me in my time, offering me a comfortable life as a house-husband as they idly commented on my “foal-chasing hips”. I refused them all, of course. I was a human, not a pony, griffin, or whatever other strange humanoid like creatures littered this planet. I tried to understand them, to feel a connection with these aliens. For a while, I was able to look past the physical differences between us, but the psychological differences were too vast for me to ignore. Yet another story for later. After screaming into the sky and panicking like a spineless child for far too long, I had regained my composure and attempted to find my way back home as I ignored the physical changes to my body. I don’t even recall what silly excuses I made up. Perhaps I had chosen to believe that my own body was an illusion created by the fictional drugs that I chose to believe were coursing through my veins. Or maybe I didn’t even attempt to create some explanation for my sudden change. It feels so long ago, and It would be pointless to think much of that time, now. It took the better part of a day for me to finally find the Everfree campsite where I had met an alien named Timber Spruce. I was still under the impression that I was on Earth, and aside from the naturally green hair, which I thought he had dyed at the time and the nearly orange skin that I had assumed was a tan, he looked exactly like a human. I had told him that I was lost and woke up in the forest after blacking out at comic con, which was enough to earn his sympathy as I continued to play with the horrors that laced my thoughts. Timber had almost immediately offered his help after that, he was always the type of pony to help first and ask insistent questions later. Being on the off season, the campsite was devoid of any ponies aside from Timber and his sister (may that mare burn in hell with everyone else) Gloriosa Daisy who had been too sick to even leave her room when I wandered into their meager camp. He was an earth pony, the race that’s closest of any race to looking like humans, and he was also very considerate. Thinking back on that day, he was really trusting of a complete stranger wearing a villainous costume, especially for someone living in a world full of supervillains, many of whom call themselves “heroes”. He gave me a Camp Everfree shirt, a pair of pants and other essentials that made their way to the lost and found, and had offered to call the ponice (God, I hate that word) and get help. Overwhelmed by his kindness, and deciding not to comment on his strange pronunciation of the word “police”, I eagerly accepted his offer and waited patiently in the lounge area. Sadly, a storm had knocked down the reception tower the night before my arrival, no doubt this world’s attempts to make me suffer more, and the only one who was old enough to drive and had the keys to do so was confined to her bedroom after eating a bad batch of sandwiches or something to that affect. Of course, I was old enough to drive myself, but that bitch became incredibly frustrating when she had her face planted on a toilet. She was too damn proud to let anyone drive her car, and she would have likely followed that up with, “especially a stallion” but an eruption of vomit stopped her from continuing out argument through the door as Timber tried, and failed, to act as a mediator. Too tired to argue with the annoying brat any longer, and far too exhausted to think about what was wrong with me, I gave up arguing with the whining sick teen and stalked off and accepted one of the smaller cabins that Timber had offered. Aside from the Queen sized, actually king sized but pony-isims here changed that, the room also had a rather old colorless tv sitting on the dresser. Deciding to calm myself down after arguing with Timber’s despicable sister, I turned on the tv to relax before I went to bed that night. However, I didn’t catch a single wink of sleep that night as I stared at the tv. Channel Six and the many other channels had imparted a great deal of knowledge to me that night as I learned that I was much farther from home than I thought I was. > Chapter 3. World of Pain. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I will burn down this prison, release every inmate, and watch as Gabby Gavel and her insufferable crew of witless guards gawk at the carnage that tears though this pitiful prison. There are only so many times one of them can grope my ass before I finally snap and shove something unpleasant up their ass, and no, I don’t mean that in a sexual or pleasurable way. And I vehemently refuse to tell Matter Horn or any of those idiotic Power Ponies about it, either. I don’t care how many times she or her other cronies tr walk in here to visit me and tell me, “I could be a hero” or some other nonsense about how, “they’re here for me.” I will not give them even an ounce of pleasure by bending to their will. They ruined everything for me, and I’ll be damned if I ever accept their help. I don’t need them, I don’t need anyone or any creature in this infuriating world. I only needed one creature and she’s gone now because of the Power Ponies. Speaking of those unbearable mares, I believe the first time I saw them was also my first night in Equestria, though it was only in passing as I skimmed through the channels later that night. For the first thirty minutes of watching the news channel, I was under the impression that it was a tv show about strange looking humans reporting news in a fantasy world. But when I saw mares and stallions on the other channels who had horns, wings, and used the same language as the ponies from the news channel, my world was turned upside-down. It wasn’t long after that that I came to a few other realizations. The scant moments from several comedies and the words used by the newscast painted a world that mirrored Earth from the 1950’s, but in reverse. Men, or stallions as they were called, were treated as a lower class and were relegated to props used to boost ratings with short shorts and tight-fitting shirts. Another thing I came to realize was that the world was filled with creatures who acted as superheroes, actual living superheroes in capes and tights. Some of them felt like parodies of the heroes that filled my childhood. Instead of there being a man from a dead planet who could leap tall buildings and outrace locomotives, an amazon-like woman with nearly white skin floated above a crowd. The massive wings that slowly flapped in the air took my breath away, as if I was looking at an actual angel. She had a long horn and a flowing mane of rainbows that wafted behind her, almost like it was acting in place of a cape that should have hung on her shoulders. Day Breaker was the first hero I had seen on the news, and I found myself slowly becoming obsessed with her and the other heroes who came on. A mare who looked like Batman called Nightmare Moon, a web slinging maiden called, funnily enough, Spider Mare, it was far too surreal. I was on another world, one full of aliens that had their own superheroes. Goddamnit, how did I not notice Timber or Glory Hole talking about “mare this” and “colt that” the day before? Was it simply that I was too tired to notice, or perhaps I was too panicked to focus on that, at the time, insignificant detail. The fact of the matter was that I wasn’t anywhere near my home. I’m not ashamed to admit that I mourned the world I lost, shedding tears into the toilet as I adopted a pose that Gloriosa likely held when she was making love to her own porcelain throne. That was far too sexual for my taste. Of course, I felt sick as well. I had just found out that I was on an alien planet full of super beings who could, and likely would, plant me on a direction table if they found out I wasn’t from this world. Despite what Matter Horn and the others claim, I doubt that they would have helped me if they knew I was an alien. I have seen racism and sexism on this world, and I have been disgusted by these false humans time and time again. If they treated ponies differently for their race or gender, then I could only imagine how they would react to an alien hiding among them. I imagined hundreds of dreadful scenarios where my innards filled jars stacked neatly on pristine shelves. I imagined feeling the missing cavities inside of me, a hollow feeling growing in my stomach as if they were actually vanishing from my body. A quick return to the toilet quelled those fears with a distraction as I sobbed into it. Though I didn’t have many friends or family back on Earth, what I lacked in quantity was made up for with quality. They were people I would happily die for, friends who were practically my family, and family who meant more than anything in the world to me. And they were all gone. Even now, after mourning them for so long, I still fight the urge to cry whenever I think of them in a passing thought. Even before I was placed in this cell, I was a prisoner of this world, kept away from the people who actually made my life matter. The only things on this strange world that were mine were the literal clothes on my back and the memories that filled my head, and I spent most of the night crying as I mourned my greatest loss. When I was finally able to leave the scant comfort of the bathroom and drag myself back to the tv, I turned it off and walked outside to get some fresh air. As I stared at the gleaming night sky, looking at the alien constellations in the vain hope of finding some normalcy in my life, I thought of the last time I was able to see the night sky. It was a camping trip with my parents, my aunt, and my cousin. I wished the stars above me were the same ones we pointed at all those years ago. > Chapter 4. A Mare's World. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Another day passes as I wait for my opportunity to arrive. And it’s another day of fighting off the growing urge to shove Maresterio’s head into a toilet. That low ranking crook thinks she’s the queen of the prison because she can pull off magic tricks even with her inhibitor collar on. Everyone here knows that she’s not actually using magic, but telling her that would only earn us a long and agonizing argument that could boil down to, “Yes I can, Yes I can, Yes I can, you’re stupid, Yes I can.” On one hand, I suppose I should be grateful that I’m in a less secure part of the prison than I really should be in. On the other hand, I would rather be incarcerated in the heart of this prison than listen to that mare prattle on to the latest inmate. Surprisingly, or I suppose unsurprisingly, High Heel has once again graced us with her presence, falling victim to the Power Ponies’ efforts to thwart villainy. Of course, she took the opportunity to torment me with her terrible puns and blatant sexism, unsurprising since I helped those idiots beat her in the past. How many of them had I helped put behind bars in my efforts in vanity and egotism? I suppose if there’s one regret I have in this life, it’s that I wasted so much time trying to play the part of a good hero when I should have just cleansed this world of evil. Anyway, back to my last entry. After my first sleepless night in Equestria, I locked myself away in my room to process everything. I gave Timber the excuse that I may have caught whatever his infuriating sister had, and that was the end of it. I learned quite a bit simply from flipping between channels. First and foremost, there are three prevalent species or “races” in Equestria. Pegasi are thin humanoids with wings, unicorns are usually shorter humanoids with a horn muttering out of their forehead, and earth ponies are the most human like of the races. There are other creatures such as griffins who have wings like pegasi but are taller and have lion tails (I still don’t know why they would have tails when no other race does), and dragons are typically twice as large as any human, with scaled skin and large dragon-like wings that easily rivaled Day Breaker’s wingspan. Of course, there are other races on this world, but I hadn’t come across many of them on tv yet. Secondly, my guess that this world was almost a parody of the 1950’s on my world was more accurate than I initially believed. Apparently, unlike earth, there was a disparity in the mare to stallion ratio, four mares to every one stallion, and stallions in general were simply worse at magic. Whether that was based in fact or a fake sexist statistic was still up for debate in my mind. 
I suppose I should also mention my reaction to learning about magic. To say I was surprised wouldn’t be an understatement, but I was also slightly numbed by every other revelation. Still, even if it wasn't as surprising as it would be by itself, I was still intrigued by the idea of magic. I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but after seeing a mare use her telekinesis to levitate a mug to her husband on some program, I held out my own hand and focused on a glass of water that sat on my nightstand. Of course, the glass didn’t move an inch, but I was startled to see the pen sitting next to it fly into my palm without any hesitation. I was also scared when the nails began to fly away from any of the framed pictures of nature that cluttered the room, and the remote for the tv suddenly glued itself to my side. Letting loose a shrill scream, I shot up from the bed and made all of the metal projectiles fly into the walls. My uncontrollable experiment also pulled the tv cord from the socket, turning the instrument of my integration into a dark mirror. As I stared into a face that wasn’t mine, I came to my most major realization. I hadn’t just become someone who looked like the debatably evil mutant. I had turned into Magneto himself. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was, but I’m only human. I’m sure anyone would react to suddenly gaining super human abilities. For the sake of not filling this journal only with my shortcomings and childish reactions, I’ll skip the following panic attack and vomit. Thankfully, the cabin that was gifted to me was far enough from the main house to give me some time until Timber came. I told him that I stubbed my toe and that I was sorry for screaming. He really was too nice and trusting for his own good, it’s no wonder his sister always takes advantage of him. Though, to my benefit, his trusting attitude made it pretty easy for me to lie to him. In the upcoming days, I had convinced him that I was an earth pony stallion that wasn’t native to Equestria, though the hardest part of my story was explaining how I woke up in a forest far away from the city. Thankfully, “a unicorn with a grudge against me teleported me,” is apparently the best excuse. It wasn’t entirely a lie anyway, I was certain that person had stolen my helmet out of spite and sent me here. Maybe he was a demon from this world who came to mine? Even now, I have no idea how I actually arrived here. Eris said she knew, but can I really trust the word of Loki’s female fursona? Still, I chose to believe her, and look where that’s gotten me. A prison cell surrounded by mares and stallions who I could easily decapitate with a dime and paperclip. Though I’d rather be in here than surrounded by all of those self-serving morons in spandex. Speaking of them, I was able to use quite a few excuses about superheroes to trick Timber. To him, I was a stallion named Xavier who was in a witness protection program and that, even though I’d like to return home, I was worried a super villain would get me. One sob story later, and Timber offered me a job as a camp counselor at the park. I was able to acclimate to my job for two days until Gloriosa finally emerged from her deep slumber. And like a bear walking I wish I had a decent analogy for the hell that was unleashed when she became my “boss”. Maybe I should go back to what's left of Camp Everfree when I’ve finally escaped. I’m sure it would be very therapeutic for me to wander though my old stomping ground. The monstrous plants may make that a bit difficult, though. > Chapter 5. World of Heroes and Villains. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gloriosa “Glory Hole” Daisy. I’ve been staring at this page for the better part of five minutes, wondering how to tackle my boss turned recent super villain. I’ll admit, I was a bit surprised to see the pink skinned girl turn into this world’s equivalent of Poison Ivy. I wonder when she’ll join the rest of us in here, since I doubt she’ll be able to use her recently acquired powers to actually do any lasting harm. Before I donned my red helmet and velvet cape, I made sure that I understood how to use my powers, and even than I was woefully unprepared for what I was trying to do. Gloriosa was one of the worst bosses I have ever had the displeasure of working under. Timber made it somewhat more bearable, if only by acting as a human shield, but it was still annoying. I understood that the 50s weren’t a wonderful time for equality on my world, but was it really so blatant? She had a problem with every minor thing I did, bitched to her brother about not needing another counselor, moaned about how “A stallion can’t fix up a gazebo or a pier because that’s a mare’s job.” Bitch even complained about my cooking, and even when she gave a compliment it was condescending and irritating. There were a few moments where she was a bit bearable, and I nearly forgot about the annoying bitch that hid behind her pleasant smile, but then a stray comment about my ass would remind me why I loathed her. She also had a tendency to become overtly flirty whenever she had a beer or five in her, which was about every Friday. Apparently, saying “no” to having sex with a woman who can’t consent makes me the bad guy in this upside-down world. Normally, I would have been thrilled to get a compliment from a woman. But, she wasn’t a woman, she was a mare, a creature that only looked slightly human. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I had some xenophobic feelings towards these strange creatures, feelings that only grew the longer I stayed on this planet. Whatever brief time I had to myself was spent on my own, testing out my abilities in the woods with whatever I could get my hands on. Forks, spoons, loose change, all of them easily moved at my command. I was still a long way away from the precise control the original Magneto had over magnetism, but I was doing things one step at a time. A quick summary of my suit confirmed that it had a few more metal accessories and accents than my Halloween brand costume, and my helmet had also become an unbreakable mass of metal. Still it, just like every other piece of metal, flew at my will and obeyed my command. It wasn’t graceful in the slightest, though no child’s first steps ever are. I didn’t want to test my luck by trying to fly before I could levitate a spoon, so I practiced at every given opportunity. Of course, this unfortunately made me look like a slacker to Gloriosa, but returning with an ample amount of firewood did buy her irritable silence for a while. I began sleeping less at night, waking up earlier, getting whatever menial chores done quicker with my abilities, just to buy precious minutes of practice for the next several weeks. My powers gave me something to strive for, a distraction that would take me away from my real problems. If it wasn’t obvious, I wanted to do what every child always dreamed of at least once. I wanted to be a super hero. Looking back at it, it was horrible a mistake. It was merely a way to distract myself from the real problem, something to take my mind away from the haunting fact that I was on another world, and would likely never return to Earth. I was so pitiful back then, chasing dreams when I should have embraced destiny to break reality. Still, Spiderman’s iconic saying rang loudly in my ears as manipulated the world around me. “With great powers comes great responsibility.” Words that I had once looked up to had suddenly taken up a new meaning to me. Power wasn’t some concept of will or inner strength any more, it was physical, a tangible force that I alone could wield. I didn’t just want to be a superhero, I wanted to be Spiderman, a hero who helped out the little guy and cracked jokes at the expense of a few irritable crooks. It was honestly laughable how blinded I was by my own childish whims. Still, it was something to take my mind off of the soul crushing fact that I’d never see my family again and then they likely thought I was either dead or dying and they’d attend a funeral with no body inside since it would be impossible for me to go back and tell them I was alright Aside from testing my powers, I also strove to improve my body. While I was certainly strong, I barely had any idea how to use my strength or maintain it. Thankfully, in the limited collection of books kept around for visitors, there were several that went into living healthy and a “self-defense manual for stallions.” I have to admit, I was never a fan of vegetables or exercise in general, but something about suddenly waking up with a six pack makes you want to keep it as best you can. My primary method of exercising, carrying stacks of firewood back to the camp after disappearing, had to stop when we ran out of space for firewood and Gloriosa started to nag me for it. This also took away my excuse for whenever I would disappear for long stretches of time, so I was forced to improvise a few new lies. I was able to convince Timber that I was searching for new possible trails for tourists and Gloriosa was easily swayed by garden of wildflowers that I found. After those and a few other well-placed lies, the siblings didn’t seem to care what I did with my free time so long as I did my work and didn’t return covered in cuts. After another week of this, Gloriosa had finally decided to take me and Timber to town, if only to just help load the groceries and see how long it would take to repair the reception tower. And it was here that I’d have my first encounter with those despicable mares. > Chapter 6. Otherworldly Views. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Being a former super hero in prison has many benefits and burdens. On one hand, most of the inmates don’t like me, but they’re also smart enough to fear me, even if they believe I don’t have access to my powers. On the other hand, I’m somewhat of a celebrity in here. Even a few of the guards are more than willing to “help” me with contraband like this journal, under the promise that they could read it when I was done. I’d sooner burn this book than ever let them see a single syllable. Though, even if they did find it, I doubt they'd be able to understand it. Even if this world has a few parallels to my world and several comics, not a single creature on this planet has ever heard of Spanish before. Aside from the guards who usually provide me with contraband for one reason or another, several guards have also propositioned me or tried to seduce me, over a dozen reporters have tried to interview me, and I can’t begin to describe my hatred for the Stallionist group that tries to put me on a platform as a victim of oppression. I've told them why I'm evil, explained my reasoning to them, but those blithering fools actually think they understand me more than I do myself. Though, the most loathsome moment would have to be the infrequent visits from heroes attempting to convince me to change. Why should I? I’m not in the wrong for protecting these pathetic creatures, I gave everything I had for a world that looked down on me and it still refused to acknowledge my efforts. These creatures aren’t human, they don’t understand a single thing about what it means to be human even if they somewhat resemble us. Just looking at them is enough to infuriate me, creatures pretending to be people when they’re not. I’ve already described this world as a prison, but I don’t believe that’s fair. A prison on Earth is at least full of people. Terrible people, sure, but they’re still human. Everything here feels like a parody of home, something to mock me by reminding me of what I don’t have. I tried to build a life here, I tried to smile past the pain and pretend everything was fine, but this world isn’t my home. It can never be. I’ve crossed lines that I never thought I would in the hopes that this could be home. I befriended these creatures, shared stories with them, slept with them, ate with them, did everything short of find love with them. I betrayed what it means to be a human, what it means to keep my humanity for the hope of being accepted. The odd thing is, I was accepted so easily because, to them, I looked like them. But I could never accept them, because they don’t look like me. Poetic racism, isn’t it? Or perhaps it's just blatant intolerance and disgust. Either way, there are just too many differences for me to ignore. Even beyond their physical differences, their mentality is too alien to me. I have to wonder if other heroes felt this way? Did Superman ever feel this lonely, or Martian Manhunter, or the Silver Surfer, anyone who was stuck on a world that was completely alien. How did they do it? How did they devote their lives to protecting a species that wasn’t their own? If I had to save a human here, one of any race, age, or gender, I would do it without hesitation. I know I may sound like a broken record, but it bears repeating because I’m trying to understand it. I can’t feel connected to these creatures, I’ve tried, the gods above this world know that I’ve tried, but I can’t do it. I can’t look at a pony or other creature the way I would a human. I’m willing to admit that there are nice ponies like Timber Spruce and Cheerilie, ponies who I was able to be friends with, but I can’t connect with them. I like them but there’s still this large gap that I can’t cross, something that keeps us from I can’t understand them. Or, maybe I refuse to understand them? I just can’t sympathize with these caricatures of parodies. I tried to be a hero by their standards, tried to become drunk on my egotistical distraction, but I couldn’t. Why does being a hero mean letting murderers live? Why does living with ponies mean I have to act like some castrated cat? Why can’t they see how wrong they are? If a person walks to your house and tells you they’re going to murder your friend, you don’t act like a coward, you fight back and kill. It’s common sense to respond to violence with violence, it’s been that way since the dawn of time. But these ponies don’t understand, they think being good means allowing murderers to live, to let people suffer when all they need to do is kill one creature to save hundreds, if not thousands. It reminds me of an idiotic hypothetical thought experiment from back home. I don’t remember the name of the moron who designed it or what it was called, but the premise has been glued to my mind for years. It’s an insane test to see if a person is good or evil by that idiot’s standards, and it feels like it fits this world to a tee. The hypothetical goes as follows. It’s late at night, and you’re alone in your house. Then, you hear your best friend desperately banging at your door. They’re panicked, tears streaming down their face as they beg you for help. They tell you that a murderer is after them, and they need a place to hide from the psychotic killer. Of course, you would accept and let them inside to hide. Not ten minutes later, there’s another knock at the door. Answering it, you find the killer who asks you a simple question. “Is your friend inside the house.” Any normal human would have answered the, “wrong” way, but most ponies here are so brainless that they’d probably answer the “right” way. Apparently, even doing so much as lying to this hypothetical mass murderer is wrong because, “Lying is evil,” or some other thoughtless nonsense. No, apparently, the correct answer is to answer truthfully and let the butcher enter your home. It's insane to me! How could anyone actually believe that lying is evil but inaction is good, that letting your friend die is better than doing something as simple as saying "no"? I’m sure that some ponies and other creatures here would agree with my views, yet another positive trait of my celebrity status. At least my followers understand what I'm trying to do for this world. Allowing these criminals to roam the streets every other week is not only stupid, it’s a guarantee for this world to end. It’s one thing when humans do it because humans have the capability to change. Clayface became a hero, Loki fought alongside his brother, even hulk was an arguable bad guy before he became a hero But for these ponies, change is almost impossible. Not a single villain has tried to become good and not a single pony has backed down from their ideals. They try to change me without seeing how much they should change. Why should I change when I’m the one who’s right? I would have had everything I wanted if they didn’t get in my way. I don’t care about the money, fame, anything that these ponies give me. All I wanted was a way back home, and they stole it from me! I wouldn’t have needed to do any of this is they just left me alone, but no, they were too stupid to let me be. When I finally escape this metal prison, then I’ll show them all the right way. Even if I need to drag them all kicking and screaming into the future, I will remold this world into something better, something that truly represents the ideals of humanity. > Chapter 7. The Day My World Changed. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I ran into a familiar trio of sisters today, The Dazzlings. Apparently, Matter Horn had found a way around their cheap singing trick, leading to the sisters being thrown back into prison once more, their amulets likely resting in a storage box near wherever the guards are keeping my helmet. I've tried to reach out and feel it, but the more days pass the less likely I believe that it's anywhere near here. It's probably in an even more secure location than this prison, considering that the courts think that enchanted objects are more dangerous than the ones wielding them. Which, I suppose is fair to an extent. The Dazzlings were normal ponies without their amulets, with the exception being the residual minor curse that kept them looking young while using the enchanted gemstones. The most dangerous thing they could do without their necklaces was act self-entitled and arrogant, often lording over the fact that they were the first villains to come close to beating me, though the odds were in their favor and I was still inexperienced at the time. Many ponies, the siren sisters included, would claim that they were the first villains I fought against in this world, but they would actually all be wrong. While it’s true that I announced myself to the world as Magneto, my first act of heroism was when Timber, Glory, and I all drove to Trot City, I think it was a pun on Jump City from Teen-Titans. Another thing to note about Terra, the world, was that most cities and states were mirrored version of famous comic book locations. Dream Valley was Gotham, Canterlot was New York, Maretropolis was obviously Metropolis, and I think Ponyville was Townsville, though I could have been wrong about that. Regardless, Timber and I were sitting in the back of Glory’s old pickup truck talking about whatever came to his mind as I tried not to think about the rolling deathtrap we were all sitting in. Just looking at that rusted piece of junk was enough to give someone tetanus, and I don’t even want to think about that god-awful radio that was blaring the whole way there. Timber was still thankfully pleasant company, though most of our conversation consisted of him asking question after question. I was amazed by how easily he accepted most of my outrageous or silly lies. “Who were you dressed up as for comic con?” “A super hero who fell into a time vortex that erased their existence from history, but I found one remaining story in a comic in my attic and made a costume.” “Where did you grow up?” “A small rural town you probably haven’t heard of.” “Why is your name Xavier?” “I was part of a witness protection program system and had to change it. It was going to be X-Ray, but you know how much griffins suck at even the most basic of tasks.” I’m well aware of how stupid my answers were, but I began to stop caring about giving detailed answers when things like, “Magic” or “Super hero/villain did X, Y, and Z,” would just as easily suffice. Most of my backstory consisted of whatever I could steal from sitcoms on the tv, and I adopted a few mannerisms and traits from those characters to blend in better with this world. The only issue with my story was when he asked if I needed to buy ball-bras while I was in town since he thought I was wearing the same one for the past several weeks. My confusion at what a ball-bra was earned his shock and a curious, if not slightly devious, look from Gloriosa in the rearview mirror. He explained it, I said we never had them in my hometown, and that I didn’t need one. “But doesn’t it hurt if you don’t wear one?” “Timber, I’m already wearing underwear. Why would I need something behind that when I’m already wearing pants too?” I argued. “Hey Tim, if he doesn’t want to wear a ball-bra then we shouldn’t judge him,” Gloriosa argued, which actually put a bad taste in my mouth. Anything that made her happy usually made me quite miserable or annoyed. “Why are you so against wearing a ball-bra?” “Because it’s ridiculous! If you want to talk to someone about what they’re wearing, why don’t you tell your sister to wear a bra?” Gloriosa scoffed at that. “I’m not wearing a bra.” “And I’m not wearing some fucking ball-bra, either,” I added on, much to Timber’s growing dismay. “But—” “I mean, I’m wearing a shirt, so I don’t need a bra. I can kind of understand where X’s coming from,” Timber’s sister defended. I chose not to argue that I could see her nipples half the time. No need to bite the person helping you in an argument, even if they’re a bitch most of the time. “But everypony wears a ball-bra. It’s just common sense!” “Unless somepony has tiny balls,” Gloriosa decided to add on, sparking an argument between the two siblings as I stared out the window. As we came closer to the city, I hardened my resolve to act like one of these creatures. The tv set had prepared me a bit for some of the surprises I would have faced, one of them being the strange colors that covered the ponies. With Timber and, to an extent, Gloriosa, I was able to associate their skin tones with human colored skin. But the equestrians, with their green, red, and even purple colored skin, they sent shivers down my spine. It was decidedly more alien than either of my hosts, something that further separated myself from the ponies who called this planet their home. Thankfully, even though peach colored skin and white hair were rare traits, especially together, I was able to blend in well to the crowd of ponies who milled about in the streets. Before we went off to buy any groceries, Timber had convinced Gloriosa to tag along on a shopping spree for myself. I’ll admit, the usual camp shirts were starting to feel a bit snug, though I doubt it was because I was starting to get larger or anything like that. Gloriosa just seemed to think keeping the male shirts in the dryer longer was better for them, or at least that was the thinly veiled excuse she came up with. I was always so tempted to lodge a penny up her nose back then. Today though, I would be more likely to throw a few bullets up her nose instead. I was able to thankfully put off clothes shopping by visiting a few stores for essentials. The first few items were books that would help me acclimate to this world, along with a thick book detailing the many heroes and villains who live in Equestria. If I was going to become a hero, then I planned on knowing who my friends were and who my enemies were going to be. I should have known better than to think I could have been friends with these ponies. Sadly, I could only push off clothes shopping for so long until he dragged me with him to the changing rooms. It was fairly uncomfortable sharing such a small room with another man, even if he was a different species. On some basic, almost primal level, it felt wrong to be ass to bare ass with a member of the same sex. Of course, I have no qualms with people who are gay or prefer the company of someone of the same gender, but even in a casual situation such as this I felt unnerved. Moving past the awkwardness of sharing an enclosed space with a naked stallion, I was able to try on a few outfits that I felt more comfortable in. Gloriosa had called a number of them “Janefilly,” which was this world’s equivalent to a Tomboy. I didn’t care how others saw me, I wasn’t about to wear some ill-fitting shirts and frills just to appear a bit more normal in this backwards world. Timber seemed to be accepting of most of my decisions, but he continued to insist that I had to wear a ball bra. By the time he offered a ball bra covered in skulls, I had to put my foot down. “The answer is no, Timber.” “Come on, Xavier, you need to wear one.” “Timber, the day I wear a ball-bra is the day I kiss Gloriosa.” “You should totally wear a ball bra,” Gloriosa suddenly chimed in from behind her magazine, earning a middle finger as I continued talking to Timber. “I’m glad you’re thinking about me, Timber, but I don’t need or want… that on my balls. No self-respecting man stallion should have to wear them.” “Oh joy, you’re a Stallionist, too,” Gloriosa sardonically added on. “It’s not about oppression or anything like that, I just don’t want to wear a third piece of clothing on my balls!” I corrected very loudly, which caught the attention of a few shoppers. “Sir, is there a problem here,” one of the employee asked in a nearly monotone voice. “Just a little disagreement,” I assured her. “Well, please don’t make a commotion, I understand you may be upset that a certain item is out of stock or,” I didn’t let her finish as I just walked back into the changing room to try on a jacket. Outside, I could hear Timber apologize to the mare and I couldn’t help but silently scoff at that. I ended up buying a pack of ball-bras later after I was just about done. I never wore any of them, of course, but it wasn’t like Timber would know. As long as it kept him quiet, I’d pretend like I was following along with this world’s ridiculous customs. So, after wasting what little money I had on a worthless piece of cloth, we put our purchases in the car and went to collect our groceries for the next few weeks. Even though we had three mouths to feed, Gloriosa’s all vegetarian diet, and the lake full of fish near her little plot of farm land, we didn’t really need to buy anything aside from some perishables and canned goods. Everything was calm on our way back to the car. Timber and I made idle conversation about some mundane topics about celebrities that I didn’t really care for. So long as I nodded and said “yes” every-so-often, he seemed perfect content to go on and on about who was sleeping with who and what was happening with this herd or that herd. Herds were another topic that made me feel uncomfortable. I understood that their improportionate population almost demanded monogamous relationships to die out, but I still felt like it was something unordinary. It was like an itch at the back of my mind that kept reminding me that I wasn’t on Earth, a little annoyance that chased off any brief comfort I could find. The word alien had become too common in my thoughts as of late. I still held onto a small hope that I could return to Earth, but I knew it would have been difficult, if not impossible, to do it alone. That’s where my plan of becoming a hero came into play. Being a super hero would grab the attention of others, make them come to trust me, and then I could use their skills and resources to find a way back home. The U.S. government in comics never reacted well to having known aliens in their custody. A baby Superman was locked away and hidden in a bunker that bathed him in red light, and Martian Man-Hunter was kept in an offshore facility inside of a test-tube. It was only after their heroic deeds that the government decided to help them rather than contain them. At least, I think that was the excuse I used back then. It’s been so long since I held onto hope for returning to Earth. I know better now thanks to the Power Ponies. And speaking of those mares, that day was the first time I saw them in person as Fili-second shot through a building and skipped on the street like a stone, coming to a stop when her limp body collided with a car and activated the alarms. Her pink skin was caked in blood, staining her mostly white suite as she shakily got to her feet. The blue pegasus with a rainbow mane, Zapp, groaned as the blaring siren quietly died. The crowd around us froze as another limp figure slammed into the speedy heroine, causing her and the other vigilante to fall as a menacing laugh filled the air. Looking over to the partially demolished building, a white mare in a tatted brown cloak emerged with a sickly green glow encasing her body like a second layer of skin. A wall of fire washed over the mare as a lavender unicorn mare in a mulberry colored costume shot a volley of flames from her horn. Instead of screaming in agony at being consumed by fire, the tattered mare cackled as the emerald aura surrounded Matter-Horn and tossed her aside. The mare with black hair with hints of color kissing the edges of he greasy mane, whom I would later come to find out was Prismia, looked towards the crowd of civilians before sending a wave of energy careening towards us. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I was frozen in absolute fear, as I heard the wails of death pierce the air a melody of madness. If it weren’t for the wall of pink energy that Radiance, another white unicorn mare who looked much better in comparison to thew haggard witch, raised a shield to protect us from the onslaught of dark magic. I was deafened by the screams of panicking ponies as I stared at the ensuing fight. A hulking yellow pegasus mare crashed through the building behind Prismia and tried her best to beat the villain into submission as Marvelous, an earth pony with a golden lasso that reminded me of Wonder Woman, helped Matter Horn to her feet before racing off to check on Zapp and a recently recovered Fili-Second. I was enchanted by their heroics, watching them with a growing glee as they battled the wicked mare who found joy in other’s suffering. Still, even outnumbered, Prismia held a distinct advantage over the other mares, easily dodging or redirecting their attacks with tendrils of magic that shot out from under her cloak. I have never wondered what it would look like if a rainbow could bleed, but if they could then I imagine it would look nearly identical to the colorful carnage that formed Prismia’s spectral limbs. The yellow monster, who I would also come to know as Saddle Rager, tore up the street trying to turn Prismia into a puddle, with Fili-Second racing around to minimize the damage as she moved ponies away from the fight. A bolt of lightning narrowly missed Prismia, striking Saddle Rager as the alabaster mare melted into a shadow and reappeared next to the pegasus mare, Zapp. Timber tried to pull me away as the other ponies raced off, even Gloriosa had run away without worrying about myself or her brother. I wanted to run, more than anything I wanted to do nothing but run. But I didn’t know what I wanted to run towards. Part of me wanted to run at the mare in a vain attempt to help, while a much larger and smarter part of me was screaming at me to run away. To my shame, I joined Timber as we ran away from the the fight, only for a fall of sorrowful colors to cut off our escape as one of the many tendrils wrapped around Timber to take him and several other ponies. I’m fairly certain that Prismia was saying something about hostages, but I couldn’t hear it over the pounding in my chest, or the screams that stabbed my ears. My breathing grew shallow as I watched Timber rise higher and higher, kicking helplessly as he fought for his life. I should have done more than stare like an idiot, but I couldn’t think straight until I felt a pair of hands wrap around my shoulders and drag me away from him. I don’t remember who it was, probably a random civilian trying to save my life, but I didn’t want that. I wanted to help Timber, I wanted to protect one of the few creatures I actually liked on this alien world. As I struggled against the two ponies who were trying to pull me away, my furious gaze landed back on the mare who was responsible for this. Prismia, the cocky and arrogant fool, was using Timber and the other ponies as hostages, using them as her own personal living shields. Something inside of me snapped at that moment, and I remember wanting nothing more than to kill her. I wish I had killed her back then. I wish I decided to kill criminals much sooner than I had. But, I was still able to stop her. No one ever connected her mysterious defeat to my debut several weeks later. To everyone there, it would have looked like somepony had kicked a car and sent it flying towards the monologuing monster. But I knew, I would always be able to smile at the memory of crushing her with under a red colored porche. The heroes didn’t have much time to question their sudden luck, and I couldn’t think of anything more than trying to catch Timber as he fell from the sky. Thankfully, several pegasi, including Zapp, were quick to catch the free-falling hostages and safely carry them down. That was the day I fully resolved to become a hero. It’s funny to think about how Prismia turned me into a hero, and later convinced me to become a villain. Without Prismia, I doubt that the world would have known me like they do now. At the end of her life, she did what she always aspired to do. She created a way to spread untold pain to the masses. > Chapter 8. The World is Unfair. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I don’t know how they did it or why, but one of the guards delivered me a “present” today. Compared to the frilly ball-bras that I refuse to wear and the other lewd items that are shoved between my mattresses, this one is arguably far worse. It’s an action figure, a small piece of plastic with barely any articulation, almost like a toy from the early 90s back on Earth. In fact, I could have very well confused it for a toy on Earth because of the familiar red helmet and lavender cape. It was certainly an odd experience to see something so human here. During my time as a hero, I didn’t pay much attention to the posters or figures that captured my likeness. But now, now I’m livid at the thought of these cheap toys. Apparently, I’ve been rebranded as a villain toy, not a surprise considering what I’ve done. Still, will any of that royalty find its way to my pockets? No, of course not. Legally speaking by this world’s standards, I don’t own the sole rights to my secret identity since doing so would require divulging my real identity. And even now that my name and face are known far and wide, I can’t collect any profits from these cheap products because I’m a criminal, which means that the bare basic of pony rights don’t apply to me anymore. Even murderers on Earth still had human rights, but not here. Criminals are treated as a low class of scum who don’t deserve the liberties and freedoms given to the spineless masses. At the time, I accepted this answer because I was told that the profits for these simple trinkets would help fund reconstruction efforts for cities that fell victim to some villain’s antics. I didn’t necessarily care for the plights of criminals because they were below me, but now that I sit among them in this boorish prison, I can’t help but sympathize with them. Perhaps I should have jumped straight into villainy when I debuted in society. Villains here are the only ones capable of changing this world, after all. The heroes gush about peace and hope while fighting a battle that they rigged against themselves. I refuse to play their twisted game, there are only losers perpetually rolling meaningless dice, forcing this world to spin on its heels rather than advance to the next stage of evolution. Not just in physical traits or abilities, but in thoughts and actions. These systems of oppression only serve to hold down society’s advancement, which in turn keeps these corrupt systems in place. It’s mainly because so few ponies are willing to change. They see the injustices of this world but do nothing to stop them. I was too blinded by the glamour of my fame to notice how little we actually achieved. No matter how many times we stopped or arrested a villain, they would return. Instead of using our powers to solve issues in the homeless community, create equality between the races, or use our influence to Peter the lives of the average creature, we got into glorified slap fights with villains as we threw around boring banter. I can’t help but to feel disgusted by my past self. I stood idly by and allowed this system to flourish under my own willful ignorance. I could have changed them sooner, but I was happy to stand alongside them and pretend that I was actually making a difference in this world. Ponies won’t change unless I force them to. They’ve been indoctrinated into a system where common sense is almost nonexistent. Take Timber, for example. On the drive back to Camp Everfree, I had expected him to unleash hellfire on Gloriosa for running away without us, but all of his anger melted away with a simple apology. He should have cut ties with her, kicked her out of the campsite and let her fend for herself, but all she had to do was say she was sorry and he acted as if everything was instantly better. I love my family a lot, but it would take more than a single apology for me to forgive them if they left me for dead. Timber and the other ponies in general are far too forgiving, to the point I felt physically sickened at it. Gloriosa left me to fend for myself, and it was only Timber’s desire to save me that kept me from being taken by that hideous mass of bleeding colors. If I hadn’t been a coward then neither of us would have been in harm’s way. I suppose I’m just as to blame for Timber nearly dying that day, but unlike Gloriosa I actually saved him. Though, I do suppose she’s trying to make up for it now, but it may be too late to do anything for him now. Back then I didn’t know about the many trials and tribulations I would face, but I wish I did. I wish I could tackle the past with the gift of my present, to change this world in a way that I should have done from the moment I arrived. Wishing things today won’t change yesterday, sadly, so I may as well continue with my story. While Timber was more than willing to let bygones be bygones, I held a decent sized grudge against her for leaving us. I spoke to her less, finished work earlier, and tried to stay away from the camp whenever I could. Unbeknownst to the siblings, after using some of the complementary beauty products at the camp to dye my hair brown, I discreetly snuck off with the truck one night after stealing the keys from Gloriosa’s room. It was fun to practice grabbing items from another room and sliding them out of a window, and it was perfect chance to practice my abilities. After successfully pulling off my first super powered “heist”, I rolled the truck a good distance away before turning on the ignition, making sure that neither of the sleeping siblings could hear the roar of the rusty engine as it came to life. With a thermos of coffee acting as my only companion, I drove off to the city with a plan for my next step into heroism. Three days had passed after my first run in with Prismia, and I had a lot of time to think about what I needed to do to be a super hero. First and foremost was picking a name for myself. At first, I wanted something to distinguish myself from the mutant terrorist. But, considering that the most original name I could think of was “Magnet Man,” I think it was the right choice to stick with Magneto. The original Magneto also flew by manipulating the electromagnetic field of his armor, so I decided to keep the villain’s iconic red and purple look instead of trying to follow Peter Parker’s footsteps, and make a costume from scratch. I would have been completely ready to dive into the world of heroism if it weren’t for one major flaw in my plan. There was a glaring when it came to using Magneto’s alias and costume, and it laid in the design of his helmet. While it would protect me from anyone who could use psychic abilities, it did nothing to hide my identity from the public, no doubt an intentional part of the design on my original’s part. There was one solution for this problem, but it was expensive. One of the villains in, “An Idiot’s Guide to Surviving Super Powered Ponies and Other Creatures,” listed a villain named Stygian, one of the few male super villains who gained recognition for his powers. At the beginning of his evil career, Stygian had an enchanted cloak that would hide his face and disguise his voice, allowing most of his adversaries to believe he was a mare instead of a stallion. I didn’t know why he would do something like that, but I didn’t care about the reasons for it as much as I did the results. An enchantment to conceal my face in a shroud of darkness, only allowing others to see a pair of beady white eyes peering through the shadows that hid my identity, it was perfect. It would intimidate my foes and keep my personal life separate from my work as a hero. Sadly, without modern utilities like cell phones and computers which were still a few years away by this world’s standards, I had to find an enchantment shop the tried and true way of looking at a map of the city. It took a bit longer than I was hoping, but I was finally able to find the store I was looking for. Moon Dancer’s Dream Emporium was a small shop on the edge of town and was surprisingly still open at 1 A.M. Stepping into the shop, I was instantly struck with the familiar smell of weed tickling my nose. I never smoked weed because of personal reasons, but I had a few friends back home who would occasionally smoke it. Aside from the smell, the shop was almost exactly how I expected it to look. Rows of shelves filled with ancient tomes, which were actually props as I would later realize. In fact, everything from the creepy statues to the different colored candles were nothing more than cheap tricks to impress idiots who didn’t understand even the most basic elements of unicorn magic. So, they were pretty effective on me. Walking past the almost lovecraftian statue of a tentacled monster with ruby eyes, I made my way to the glass desk at the back and rang the service bell. “Mittins! Bad kitty!” A voice from another room called out. I looked around in a confused panic for the owner of the voice. There was only one door into the shop, and there wasn’t a visible door or curtain behind the counter. It was something I should have noticed before ringing the service bell, but I was too distracted by a jar of eyeballs that was staring at me. Throwing a bit of caution to the wind, I rang the bell once more and earned an agitated shout from the unseen mare. “Mittens! Stop playing with the bell!” “Um… Hello?” I called out. It was if the ambient sound of the shop died at my voice, causing a bit of panic to race through me as I debated hightailing it out of the shop. I’m a bit ashamed to admit that I shrieked when a tan unicorn mares head suddenly poked through the wall. After taking a few fearful steps away from the counter, the mare quickly walked through the wall and tried to console me. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t know there was a customer tonight, especially a,” she paused for a moment as she looked me up and down. “a stallion. Um, welcome to Moon Dancer’s Dream Emporium, how can I help you tonight.” “I’m here for an enchantment,” I explained. “Oh, perfect. Is it a defensive enchantment, an alarm, or uh, a cosmetic enchantment?” “I suppose it would be cosmetic in a sense,” I guessed, causing the mare to wince at my choice. “Ah. Well, I can’t make your hair smell nice for long stretches of time, or do anything that would make you look prettier. Not that you’re not pretty, it’s just that I don’t know a lot of spells or enchantments that are only for making ponies look pretty and—” “I need a disguise enchantment,” I interrupted. That certainly earned her attention. “Oh, may I ask what for?” Stealing a glance around myself for a suitable excuse, I noticed a box labeled Ogres and Oblietes sitting on the shelf behind her. Catching an idea, I adopted a more nervous stance as I came up with a reasonable lie. “Well, it’s a bit embarrassing but… Have you ever heard of role-playing games?” I asked, making sure to mutter the last piece to sell my lie. “Role playing? Like… Like Ogres and Oblietes?” “Yeah, you know it?” “Of course, I do! I-I mean yeah, my sister plays it sometimes and I hear her talk about it.” “Ah, right. ‘my sister plays it too,’” I told her, shooting her an understanding wink as I went on with my new lie in a lie. “My ‘sister’ needs it for her campaign and while I-er-she is usually fine at leading the party, she thinks this would really add something more to the campaign. If we had something like, for example, a disguise spell that could make us look more like Stygian, then she would be able to play the part of the all knowing director of dice, dragging the party into horrible peril at every turn of their adventure.” “That seems really excessive for a one-off game.” “Oh please, with how rowdy those murder hobos get, making a one-off is almost impossible. You try to make a cohesive story, but there’s always that one party member who wants to run into a swarm of undead with only a sword and a prayer. Or, so my ‘sister’ tells me.” “W-well yeah, I heard that those games can get really hectic too, heh,” Moon Dancer said with a nervous giggle as she pawed at the tattered cuffs of her swearer. “So-so you uh, you need something to make you look more sinister, then?” “Yup, I want to be completely unrecognizable. My sister! My sister wants to be unrecognizable,” I lied. I never knew that over-acting could be so much fun before, though it helped when you had a wonderfully gullible audience as well. “Well, a long-lasting enchantment like that would require a-a lot time. Um, it’d probably be around two hundred to three hundred dollars?” I hid a grimace at that number. “That’s a bit out of my reach for now, but I’ll come back later with the money. How quickly could you make one if I had enough to pay you?” “The-the better part of a week o-or so, I think. Are you sure about this, three hundred bits is really a lot for a cusstom enchantment like this.” “Perfect. Game night is going to be amazing! For my sister that is,” I quickly corrected with faux worry as I left the shop and waved goodbye. Turning on the ignition of Glory’s truck, I sat in the front seat as I pondered the best way to get three hundred bits, or dollars as I know them, for the enchantment. As I was debating and knocking away a few ideas, one idle thought wormed into my brain as I passed by the post office on my way back to Camp Everfree. While a custom enchantment was costly, the atm a few blocks away had more than enough money for it, and a simple wave of my hand was more than enough to ensure that I could afford it. It wasn’t easy for me to break it open. Physically, it was child’s play with my abilities, but the act itself weighed heavily on my mind. It was something I wouldn’t even give a second thought today, but back then it was a struggle. I thought of a few alternatives, like a ski mask under my helmet or s simple piece of bent metal to guard my mouth, but either option would impair my hearing and my voice respectively. Besides, either of those could be easily ripped off of my face, while an enchantment was, as I believed, intangible and more durable than some raggedy piece of cloth. Though, in fairness, I will admit most of it was because I thought an enchantment was "cooler" then a normal mask. My pride wouldn't allow for me to simply go with the easiest route, but my pockets weren't big enough to match my rather large dreams of granger. While it was tempting, and would have been incredibly easy, I decided to not start my heroic journey off with a rather serious crime. I was always governed by my own silly rules back then. A code that I alone followed, morals that only I believed in, thoughts that would gradually change as this world turned me into a force of nature. > Chapter 9. My Evil Plan to Save The World. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- This world has the unique ability to make me paranoid at every turn, especially in my prison cell. I barely had any sleep last night It is far too early in the morning for me to be writing. But, I’m too awake to go back to sleep, so I may as well do something semi-productive to pass the time. In my last entry, I recounted my plan to become a “super hero,” with a few creative liberties for the dialogue, of course. It was a long time ago and I don’t have the patience to remember every mundane interaction I’ve had word for word like some ponies here. A small part of me wants to claim that they remember speaking with me because I leave such an impression on them, but that’s simply not the case. Simply put, ponies aren’t restricted by the same limitations as humans are. They have bent nature to their will, harnessed the powers of divinity and darkness, and have more space for memory than humans do. With these thoughts in mind, I have to wonder how it’s possible for this society to constantly fail when they have every opportunity and advantage available to them. World hunger should be abolished with magic, natural disasters should be a remnant of some bygone era, racism, sexism, homelessness, each of these burdens and shortcomings should be non-existent. The power of heroes isn’t simply limited to a government position like being a mayor or president, they are actual physically super powered beings with the ability to end wars in a day. Their power isn’t some concept that’s perpetuated by the masses coming to an agreement, their power is primal, it’s part of them. With a wave of their horn, unhospitable land can become fertile soil for crops, and the greatest minds on this planet could come together to break through the few limitations that are left for this world’s populace. Even the problem with this planet’s imbalance in the population of mares and stallions could be fixed with a marriage of magic and science. I have seen ponies whose entire genetic code was rewritten in seconds, magic users who could bend reality over their knee. But, instead of using these powers to benefit their species and improve it, they get into fist fights with villains as if entire cities are playgrounds. They fight, argue, cheat, and steal only for their own insignificant gain. If the many species on this world could band together, then I know that they could create feats that would outshine the miracles of humanity. I know I am holding this world to a higher standard than my own, but only because I know they could achieve it. Ponies are better and worse than humans in many ways, and they could easily become something more if they made proper use of their powers. It’s sickening to watch this world wither away around me, falling to ruin as the ones who can save it ignore the underlying problems. If no one else will stand up and change the world for the better, then I will. I’m not the ignorant fool who collected spare change off of the street for costume expenses anymore. I am Magneto, the Master of Magnetism, and I will bring forth the next step in societal evolution for the creatures I share this planet with. Even if I must play the part of a villain to bring about a new age, then I will embrace my role to protect this planet. I may not like all the creatures living here, I may disagree with them, hate them, fear them, or even mock them, but I do care for this world. It’s the only world I have left now. I accepted that a long time ago. Even before I was given undeniable proof of my inability to return home, I had given up on returning to Earth. I knew it was impossible, that it would only lead to worlds that remind me of how truly alien I am. How alone I am. Terra is, and will hopefully always be, my new home world, because I cannot bear the thought of losing another home. My life, ripped away from what little normalcy I have, just because I pissed off some creature in an ugly trench coat. I can’t lose another world, I refuse to. If I’m capable of saving this world from itself then I’ll do it. The ponies and others are an afterthought to the importance of protecting this planet. To quote a fictional superhero from Earth who was kidnaped from his home at a young age, “I’m one of the idiots who lives here.” It’s a rather fitting quote. I don’t have much in common with any pony here except for the fact that I call Terra my home. We’re all strangers sharing a small marble in the cosmos, spending our days in turmoil as we strive to build a better future. I want it to be better because I know it’s possible, and because I’m capable of making it possible, even if everyone seems to disagree with my methods and reasoning. They’ll come to understand it someday, they’ll see a prosperous world that could fit the ideals of utopia. No more wars, no more hunger, no more evil, just peace in a sea of tranquility. Ponies, griffins, yaks, dragons, sharing a world where the plights of their ancestors are a foreign concept. It won’t be easy, of course. No Empire was built without spilling blood, and I don’t believe I have spilt enough blood yet. At least I am able to change the world for the better by being the worst version of myself. My only regret is that I may never be able to partake in the peace that comes from my plan. After all, a peaceful world has no place for a monster like me. But at least I can take comfort in knowing that I will be the last monster this world has to face. > Chapter 10. The World Waits with Bated Breath. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A new inmate has come to our prison, a lanky pegasus stallion with teal skin who calls himself Cat Colt, though the other inmates have made it a habit of calling him Cat Call. He’s undoubtedly supposed to be this world’s alternative version of Cat Woman, though the similarities stop at their cat themed personas. Cat Colt, or Zephyr Breeze, is a far cry from the capable villainess who prowled Gotham museums and stole Batman’s heart. He claims to be a skilled thief and an expert of breaking and entering, but I have my sincere doubts about that. His overall personality paints the picture of an overly arrogant fool who believes that having a mask and a name would be enough to earn a reputation in prison. Still, if he was sent to a prison specifically designed for super villains, then perhaps he’s at least capable of annoying the heroes outside. And I must applaud him for not relying on enchantments to commit his heists, though it could have just as easily been that he didn't know how to use any enchantments. If I had met him in my earlier days, I’m sure he could have been a useful ally, especially when it concerned my very modest budget. I still remember stalking through the streets of Trot City looking for spare change in alleys and gutters. Surprisingly, there wasn’t much loose change considering that a third of the population’s homeless could use magic and grab them before I could. I wandered around with a much full of six bits worth of change, staring at my pitiful collection as I rounded up my total savings in my head. I only had about fifty bits worth at the time, and Timber would pay me by the end of the week, but that pay was already halved since most of it went to food and housing. I was still a long way from getting the necessary three hundred bits for an enchantment, but the world seemed to smile on me that night. As I closed my eyes to feel the metal around me, stepping into an alley to quickly take anything of value, I felt several different types of metal behind me. Describing the “feeling” of a metal by sense is difficult to explain, and I’d rather not waste pages telling myself something I already know. When I opened my eyes and turned around I was surprised to see a pegasus mare wearing a bandanna over her mouth, and I was absolutely terrified of the knife she was pointing at me. “Money,” it was an order, not a threat. Quickly throwing the bag of loose change to her, she caught it with her free hand and shook it in her palm. “Is this bucking it?! Where’s the rest of it?” “Th-that’s all I had,” I told her. I really wish I had been braver in my early days. I would always stutter and wiper like a coward when I should have simply taken that knife and shoved it into her neck. “Don’t bucking lie! Where’s the rest of it?!” I tried to tell her that I didn’t have anything else on me, and when she came closer my instincts took ahold of me. The threatening mare (god, I can’t believe I was actually intimidated back then) raised pulled her knife back only for it to suddenly freeze in place before an iron pipe smashed into the back of her head. She dropped like a sack of bricks after that, letting the knife slip from her grasp as her face quickly kissed the concrete. I waited a few moments in morbid wonder, staring at the blotch of red that was growing on her scalp. Thinking quickly, I ripped the bandana off of her face and tried to wrap her head before sitting her up against a dumpster. She was still breathing, so I decided to quickly run out of the alley with my meager savings until I noticed a piece of leather sitting nearby. Opening the wallet revealed around a hundred bits, a debit card, and, miraculously, the code to her account. I actually had to think about that longer than I should have. She had just tried to stab me after taking everything I had, I deserved something in return for it. Besides, a good amount of the money in her account was probably stolen too, it was only right that I should have taken it for myself. Sadly, my conscious wouldn’t allow it, so I simply stole the hundred bits and used some loose change to use a payphone and dialed 911. Thankfully, between the many differences that separate our worlds, those three numbers weren’t among them. I think I told them my name was Cuddle Fish, or something equally ridiculous, and that I was just saved by a figure clocked in a purple cloak that used a levitation spell to hit the assailant over the head. They asked me to wait for them to arrive, which of course I didn’t do, and I went back to Camp Everfree as soon as the call ended. I still regret not taking that money out of her account. Stealing from murderers was a grey area for me at the time, but I was desperate for money back then. I wouldn’t have wasted the next week and a half by searching for meager change like a beggar if I had a backbone back then. It took much longer than it should have, but I finally hd enough money for an enchantment that would hide my face, though not enough to distort my voice as I would have liked. I was somewhat worried that I would need to actually bring in the helmet to be enchanted, but the cloaking spell I requested came in the form of a sticker that I could put inside of it later. Looking into a mirror at the camp revealed that the enchantment met all of my expectations, hiding my face completely as a void of darkness stared back at me with white eyes. Part of me wanted to leave as quickly as possible to enact my heroic plan, but I knew that it wouldn’t be good to immediately leap into battle. I still needed to practice in the forest, and I would need more time between my purchase and my debut. Moondancer had easily accepted the lie I spoon fed her, but I doubted that an idle thought wouldn’t cross her mind if a male superhero with an enchantment similar to Stygian’s appeared only a day after she sold that specific enchantment to a “stallion,” as she believed. My first attempts at flight weren’t graceful by any measure of the word. To save myself the embarrassment of reliving that memory, let me just say that it took me a long time to actually learn the basic principles of flight. By that time, nearly three and a half months had passed me by, and the summer guests had started to file into our modestly sized camp. I was so naive to think that it would only take a week to learn the principals of flight and levitation, along with the ability to manipulate magnetic fields with ease. Real life isn’t made up of montages where I could skip the moments where I nearly impaled myself with a rusty machete or twisted my ankle carrying too many things to the camp. I also ended up getting into a terrible and abusive relationship while I was at camp. Every hour of the day she would call out to me, promising me sweet relief from the exhaustion that filled me, but she also never let me sleep. While it was good for a bit of late night training, a man still needs his sleep. But, she still tempted me, promised me that she would make everything better. I was a love stricken fool, but she was just so helpful. Ah, good old Bunn brand coffee maker, our time together was special but it was terrible for my health. Jokes aside, I did have an unhealthy amount of caffeine flowing through my veins every day. Timber and I would often joke about how he would need to throw an intervention at some point, only he wasn’t joking. Hell, even Gloriosa seemed a bit worried about my caffeine addiction. I suppose there are worse things than an aspiring hero with a heavy dependency of caffeine. Like crying cats, or dead puppies, or cats crying over dead puppies. Still, I’ll admit that I have my own personal demons. Even now, I can’t look at a coffee pot the same way anymore. My inconsistent sleep schedule also made it a bit more difficult to balance work and practice, to the point where I nearly fell asleep mowing the grass. But, it was all for the best, since I had been able to test my powers in the safety of my solitude. Due to the increase of campers and ponies who liked to take nature walks at night, something that was expressly forbidden and ignored, I had to move away from my usual training area in search of something more fitting. Thanks to an old map I was able to find while cleaning the attic, I learned that there was an old abandoned mineshaft in the nearby mountains. The site had been left to rust over the years, turning into a rotting mess of forgotten carts and buried tracks. After cleaning up the entrance and ensuring that only I could enter by making a wall of rusted iron that blocked the main entrance, I explored my new secret base with a flashlight and wandering eye. I felt veins of raw iron that had been been left undiscovered, a labyrinth of rails that wove trough the mountain like a roller coaster, and an old elevator shot that had been buried under several tons of rubble. I expected to feel these things around me, but as I went deeper into the mines, I felt something different tug at my senses. New types of metal tickled the hairs on my arms as I followed the invisible trail, eventually coming to a dead end at the end of one of the mine shafts. Stealing a glance behind me, I saw an overturned cart and backed away before throwing it at the boulder, only for the cart to fly through it as if it weren’t there. Flinching at the loud noise that rang out from the hidden room, I took a moment to steady myself before floating through the illusion. Behind the fake boulders was a room that reminded me of Batman’s lair. The large computer monitor that sat at the end of the room had a new metal addition to the monitor. I hissed through my teeth at that, deciding to look at anything else except for the broken monitor. Spiderwebs soaked in dust filled the empty spaces on the shelves, a table with half built rusted gadgets sat below a cork-board that held several dozen magazine clippings and photos. Hovering over the ledge of the cavern revealed a lower level that had several industrial machines scattered about with little rhyme or reason. Everything was in a state of disrepair, with tools lying next to hall-finished projects, as if they were abandoned without a second thought. I hovered closer to the workbench that was tucked away in the corner of the lower floor. Several dozen papers caked in a thick layer of dirt covered the table, the writing too faint to be sensible. I ignored those and puled open the drawers beneath, finding three black metal rings that felt different to the other ore I had touched before. They were nullstone bands, a type of metal that could suppress unicorn magic and the curses that give other creatures unique abilities. I wouldn’t learn of their uses until my descent into villainy, but I still appreciated their beatury before I found out how useful they could be. I felt a spectral familiarity when I held them, a feeling of déjà vu that sent chills of delight rippling through my body. It was a shame that my costume had a severe lack of pockets those days, so I elected to put the bands back in the drawer before exploring the rest of my appropriated lair. Luminescent enchanted rods provided a decent amount of light for the dusty room. Flipping a nearby switch then caused the lair’s air system to kick on, roaring to life as the musky air was cleared out. The only other items of note were two lockers that held what looked like two fourths of a barbershop quartet’s wardrobe, and a picture of two unicorn stallions wearing the red stripped shirts and straw hats that sat in the lockers. I would later learn that my lair belonged to a pair of villainous twins called the Terror Twins, meaning that my form, my secret identity, and my new home had been burrowed or taken inspiration from four villains. After putting the portrait aside, I hovered above the decrepit lair, imagining the perfect base as I tore away the rusting floor panels. My work wasn’t pretty by any means, but it felt nice to remodel the forgotten lair into something more fitting, something that would earn then name of Magneto’s Polaris Palace. Of course, I still had an actual job to return to, so I used the secret exit in my palace to fly back to Camp Everfree. And the next day, the world would finally see the Master of Magnetism in action as I fought off some of the greatest heroes known to these creatures. > Chapter 11. The World Cries Out for a Hero. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It’s amazing how nearly a quarter of a year could be summarized in only a few thousand words, but I suppose that’s par for the course when you avoid social interactions like the plague. I tried to feel comfortable around the campers and my additional co-workers who were interning for the season, but there were always moments where I would be reminded of how different I am to them. I earned a reputation as being a loner, something that attracted a few lustful eyes every now and again. Unwanted advances from a number of mares drew me deeper into my self-isolation, to the point where it didn’t become too uncommon for me to say less than a few sentences each day. Timber had mentioned that I should try finding a herd, or at least a marefriend, but all of his suggestions flew by my ears as I busied myself with work. Maybe my seclusion was why none of the ponies ever noticed my longer periods of absence. If it weren’t for the fact that I would clock in and out of work and keep a record of what I did, then I imagine I would have lost that job. In my abnormal life, my job as a member of Camp Maintenance gave me a moment of peace, a time where I could wander aimlessly through the forest and pretend I was back on Earth. It was always hard to escape my idle fantasies, but each and every day I returned from the small world inside my head, and continued living alongside the aliens that I saw every day. As I was busy washing the dishes for the other employees at our communal meal, I overheard the tv as it announced something that peaked my interest. “A wave of devastation as people continue to loot shops and break into buildings. The trio-oooo-hooo-oooo-uhh-oooh,” the newsmare began to sing as the chorus of voices rose behind her. Stepping out of the kitchen, I leaned over the couch to get a better look as the camera panned to reveal three mares, earth ponies by the looks of it, as they sung in the middle of the street with cops wearing plastic smiles skipping alongside them. “What the hell is going on there?” I asked the young colt who was lounging on the couch. “Look like someone’s trying to take over Trot city with a musical," he shrugged, reaching forward with the remote to change to a sketch comedy. “You’re not the least bit worried about that?” “Meh, happens every other week. Besides, the Power Ponies will just deal with them,” he answered with a bored tone. I honestly couldn’t understand these ponies. Other creatures were in danger and that little bastard just wanted to watch Cheese Sandwich and his friends get slapped with a trout. Ponies were in danger, and others were risking their lives to try and help them. That colt should have felt at least some compassion for the ponies in Trot City. Ponies like that colt are exactly why I lost faith in this species. I couldn’t imagine a normal human seeing something like that and simply saying, “That’s boring, I’m going to watch the Three Stooges now.” It’s completely insane! I decided not to waste my time admonishing the young colt and simply excused myself from the room. I knew that the Power Ponies were capable fighters, the VHS tapes I was able to buy in town of their fights proved as much, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt for a dashing rouge to fly in and offer them his assistance. I was able to sneak away from the campers without much issue as I melted into the foliage of the forest, donning my helmet and cape as I prepared to fly off to Trot City. I arrived about fifteen minutes later, and watched from afar as chaos rang rapid through the streets. I was able to find the Dazzlings fairy easily because of the large number of camera crews that surrounded them. Their leader, Adagio, an apparent teenager with golden skin and an orange perm that fell to her waist, took center stage as her sisters sang backup. On her left, Sonata, the blue skinned sister of the trio who wore a look of blissful ignorance to the disaster that danced around them. Finally, Aria, the middle sister with lavender skin and two purple pigtails with streaks of green, wore a sadistic smile as she carried Sonata in the chorus. One surprising thing to note about the sisters were their outfits. Instead of the typical sinister look that most villains went for, they looked like the 80’s threw up on them, apologized, and then proceeded to throw up on them again. Those three stood out line sore thumbs in a town that dressed closer to the 1960s than any other age. Aside from the camera crew that watched their every movement, they were also flocked by a small legion of police officers who were wearing the same menacing smiles that were plastered on the other ponies’ faces. A quick search around also revealed that the Power Ponies were nowhere in sight, which I took as a sign of my opportunity to work as a solo act on my first crime. If I was a just a bit smarter back then, maybe I would have realized how stupid that hopeful thought was. Ignorant of the problems that would inevitably arrive, I lifted dozens of cameras off of their stands to call their attention. “Your concerto of crime ends now, criminal scum!” (Thanks Batman and Imperial Watch.) The three sisters quickly locked their eyes onto me, prompting every single mare and stallion under their control to stop their pillaging as they joined in their collective gawking. I learned a funny fact about myself that day. I was fucking terrified of crowds apparently. Not a good trait for an idiot who wants to be a super hero. “I-I’m Magneto!” Of course, I stuttered on my introduction. “And I am the Master of Magnetism! Release these ponies from your terrible tune, and no harm will come to you!” There was a long pause of silence before a chorus of laughter suddenly erupted from the crowd, squashing whatever little self-respect I had as some of the puppeteered ponies began to double over on themselves, clutching their stomachs as several of them fell to their knees and laughed at my expense. “Aw, the little colt wants to get rough with the big mares. How cute,” Aria teased. “Why don’t you come down here, big colt. We can show you how to sing~!” Adagio added on with a sensual yet still mocking tone. “She means we want to fuck you!” Sonata unhelpfully explained. I’ll be honest, I think I hated her the most out of those three. “Laugh all you want, because you won’t find what happens next to be as amusing!” I attempted to threaten. “Oh, I think we’ll all be laughing later,” Adagio promised with a predatory grin as they began to hum their hypnotic hymn. Of course, my helmet prevented them from turning me into another willing puppet but they didn't know that. So, there I was, floating in midair as these three girls sung at me. I let them go through their whole routine, special effects and all, and waited for them to wrap it up. When it was finally over, I gave them an awkward clap, both lout of spite and because the situation itself just felt a bit odd to me. I never thought of describing a clap as being, “limp” before, but it feels accurate in this case. “Um… Nice performance? It’s not the worst I’ve heard, I guess.” “Everypony’s a critic,” Sonata pouted, earning a slap upside the head from Adagio before the leader of their trio pointed an accusatory finger at me. “Why isn’t our song working on you?!” “I’d say it’s because I’m just that good, but the truth is your performance was pretty boring.” “Can it, mutt! I’ll turn you into a footstool!” Aria shouted. “Oh, really? You and what army?” She responded to my stupid inquiry by motioning to the legion of mindless drones that they had collected. Then, with a snap of her fingers, every police officer (I refuse to call them Ponice) drew their guns and aimed them at me. I was able to hide my fear fairly well thanks to the enchantment on my helmet, and I quickly responded by prying them from their hands and tearing them apart in the air. Several guns went off in my efforts to disarm them, since each one of them already had their finger waiting precariously on the trigger finger, but my magnetic shield was able to catch any of the stray shots that nearly found their mark. With a flourish of my own power, I allowed the remains of their firearms to spin around me as I descended to the street below, watching with a bit of pride as the three sisters backed away in fear. Unfortunately, any momentum created by my entrance was killed off as I tried to hit them with a clever one-liner. “Now, stand down you singers sin-wait- sin-singer-ugh. Sinn-ing sing-ers. Sinning Singers. You sing-th-ffFuck! You know what I mean!” Truly, I had as much grace as a greased-up toad on an ice rink back then. I’ve gotten considerably better at it since then, but my early days were rather rough. “Here’s an idea, why don't you come down here and make us, mutt!” Aria shouted, to which I easily complied. Their powers weren’t able to affect me, their hum pony shields could easily be lifted out of the way, and I appeared to have all of the advantages. At least, that’s what I thought until a pink and white blur raced past me and punched me in the side of the head before racing off. Recoiling from the sudden cheap shot, I fell tho my knee as I clutched my head. Word to the wise, a helmet keeps you alive, it doesn’t always prevent you from feeling pain. My assailant at least sported a broken hand for her trouble. But in spite of the pain, that crazed mare still smiled like she was one every type of drug known to man. She ran at me again, throwing a volley of punches every few seconds to whenever I wasn’t blocking. Unlike her friends and her D.C. counterpart, Fili-Second’s costume was free of any metal accessories or accents, meaning I could just keep her in the air as I dealt with the others. Of course, just because I couldn’t put her in the sky didn’t mean I had to be limited to the ground. I flew out of her reach as soon as I had the chance, giving me a brief reprieve before I felt the unshakable desire to suddenly move. I never had to dodge lighting before, but thank god I was a quick learner in that regard. In the blink of an eye, a bolt of lightning shot past me and struck a nearby building. I barely had a moment to think before I felt the electromagnetic field around me shove me away from another volley of lighting. I was able to catch a glimpse of Zapp as she dove into the clouds and threw bolts of electricity from her hands. The sky was clearly her domain and the ground was even less safe thanks to the pink speedster that was waiting for me. Another narrowly missed strike of lighting reminded me to focus on the raging pegasus that was trying to kill me. “Fuck! I thought you were the good guys!” Zapp ignored my crie shouts as a lightning bolt suddenly tore through my cape, burning sizable a hole near my side. I’m not sure if I was lucky or unlucky to suddenly feel Marevelous’ lasso wrap around my ankle, but the ground felt a lot safer than the air at the moment. With a strong tug of her arm, I was pulled back down to Terra where the heroine was waiting to wrap me in her lasso. I had known enough about Wonder Woman to know that magic lassos were hardly a good thing to be tied up with, so I latched onto the metal bracelets that were wrapped around her wrists and threw her into the sky where Zapp quickly caught her. Before I could try to take the lasso off of my ankle, the speeding menace grabbed the other end and ran around me. In a matter of moments, I was tied up with the magical lasso and fell to my side as Fili-Second and the others stood next to the Dazzlings. “Well, well, how the cocky fall,” Adagio teased as her and her sisters dew closer. The lasso felt like it was getting tighter with each passing second, robbing me of air as I fought against it. Knitting my eyes closed, I tried to focus o n the metal around me and ended up latching onto the large pile of stolen goods that the enslaved ponies were building earlier. I felt dozens of televisions, jewelry boxes, and other assorted metal trinkets and appliances swarm around me as I laid on the ground. The vortex of flying metal stopped Fili-Second and the others from getting too close, and it also had the unintended side effect of redirecting Zapp’s lighting as well. Saddle Ragger was too calmed by the siren’s ability to hulk out, so at least she wasn’t too involved in the fight. I’m certain that, if she were at full power, I wouldn’t be sitting in a prison cell today but rather a shallow unmarked grave. That still left me with five professional super heroes who weren’t afraid to go for the throat. There were too many ponies around the Dazzlings to throw a car at them. Besides, Radiance was on defense for the teenage trio, so I would need to get to her before trying to hit the Dazzlings. “Are you gonna hide in there all day? Please come on out, we won’t bite!” Adagio promised. “Aw, but biting is always the fun part!” Sonata once again unhelpfully chimed in. Ignoring their taunts, I began pelting random tv’s, toasters, and anything else I could at them. Radiance used her bejeweled gauntlets to raise a shield over the Dazzlings and the Power Ponies. With little air or rational thought left, I kept throwing everything I had at the shield until a bar of gold found its way through Radiance’s defenses, flying into Marevolous’ jaw and subsequently loosening the lasso as it fell to the ground in a limp heap. I learned much later that Radiance’s weakness was, ironically, jewelry and anything valuable. For example, a solid brick of gold or a bejeweled blade would easily cut through any shield or construct she made. Compared to Green Lantern’s weakness being the color yellow or wood, I could forgive her for her bizarre weakness especially since it was the main reason I wasn't dead. I couldn’t celebrate my victory for long as a torrent of flames began assaulting my barricade. With a short amount of time to think before most of my arsenal melted, I tried to focus to focus on any other metal I could grab onto. Following the trail that led to Matter Horn’s “horn” I pulled at the metal contraption on her forehead, hoping to either knock her to her senses or at least give her enough of a headache so she would stop. I doubt I was the only one surprised and slightly horrified when her entire horn was ripped from her head and flew into the tornado of metal around me. Apparently, Matter Horn was an earth pony with an enchanted iron horn, so it wasn’t as if I actually ripped off a unicorn’s horn. I could go on a tangent about how appropriating another race’s traits felt too similar to certain negative acts back on Earth, but even I have gotten tired of those arguments, especially since everyone is completely pigheaded in this upside-down world. If I was in a better frame of mind, I could have grabbed the horn and used it against the Dazzlings and the Power Ponies, but I was too surprised by her horn coming off to even keep up my metal defenses. As soon as my focus was off of my barrier, Fili-Second leapt at the opportunity and punched my helmet again. Apparently, she learned her mistake from last time and was using a pair of boxing gloves to cushion her fists. I didn’t know or care where she got them, I was too busy trying to fly away from her and simultaneously dodge any lightning that Zapp threw at me. Marevelous was still out cold, Matter Horn was Matter Hornless, and Saddle Ragger was left completely defenseless. Nothing could control an angry hulk, especially not the Dazzlings. But trying to piss off a hulk that could fly was downright suicidal and dangerous for the ponies near her. It seemed like the Dazzlings at least knew it too since they hadn’t tried using her once, and Radiance was still acting as a shield along with all of the pony bodies between her construct and the Dazzlings. Three heroes, three villains, a small army of slaves, and one man who could manipulate magnetic fields. I would say that sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, but that would be my life as a whole. Focusing on the energy that wrapped around Zapp’s arms, I followed the electromagnetic trail to the cold metal lightning bolt that hung around her neck. Being the complete idiot I was back then, I had completely forgotten that I actually read up a bit on the Power Ponies. While it didn’t mention things like Matter Horn’s secret or Radiance’s weakness to tasteful fashion, it did mention the necklace that Zapp wore. Essentially, if Thor’s hammer once had an almost equally powerful keychain on it, then it would have been Zapp’s necklace. “Idiot!” I hissed through my teeth as I reached out and ripped the lightning bolt necklace off of her neck. I almost dropped like a stone when I held the necklace in my pam, and quickly chose to hold it with my powers instead. I was immensely glad that the comics back on Earth had answered the debate of if Magneto could lift Thor’s hammer, or else I probably wouldn’t have thought to just keep it floating next to me. I couldn’t harness any of the powers inside of it since I wasn’t “worthy” but at least it meant that Zapp couldn’t use it either. Still taken aback by the fact I stole her artifact, I took the opportunity to ram my fist into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her as she hurtled to the ground before. Not wanting to be a murderer, (yet,) I made sure to lower her down by the metal accents on her Knee-high boots. Before I could even place her down, Fili-Second raced in to put her near the other beaten Power Ponies. That was good for me, because it meant that the Dazzlings wanted the Power Ponies to stay alive. After all, why kill the Justice League when you could brainwash them and make them commit crimes for you? I wasn’t able to relish the fact that I had single handedly beaten half of the Power Ponies because a giant pair of pink scissors suddenly formed in the air and tried to cut my head off. The Dazzlings had moved Radiance from a defensive position to offensive, which put me in a more precarious situation. I couldn’t sense her constructs like I could with Zapp’s lightning, so I would either have to fly in the sky where a construct could come from any angle, or stay on ground level and keep an eye on her while avoiding the Flash’s sugar obsessed step-sister. Unlike the others, the only metal plating on Radiance’s body was her breastplates, and it hardly seemed helpful or productive make her flash everyone around her. Her bracelets were enchanted gemstones that weren’t connected by metal, they actually floated near each other because of a gravity enchantment that made them stick to her wrist. So, no way to disarm her like a Green Lantern without cutting off a limb or two. I also still hadn’t yet made the connection of jewelry being her weakness, so I needed to rely on a few other tricks from the comics. The way to defeat a green lantern was to distract them, which was easy to do when they were blinded. Grabbing a dozen police sirens and police grade flashlights from the scattered cars, I shoved the collective light show into her face, causing her to scream out as the blaring sirens and bright lights assaulted her eyes and ears. The pink menace was quick to help her comrade, tossing away the sirens and flashlights that scattered on the ground. Radiance was still in a slight daze but it wouldn’t last for long. I tried to use every bit of comic lore to think of how to fight her. The Flash needed a solid surface but it wasn’t like I could freeze the floor in front of her. The tapster from Marvel was able to use a quick acting agent to make super heroes stick to the ground, but that option wasn’t possible for obvious reasons. What I needed was something that would keep her from running, something that would hold her down. And just like that, I had a rather devious idea about an unstoppable force and an immovable object. Radiance would be back in the battle before I knew it, so I needed to take care of the speedster quickly. “You want a fight, Fili-Second?! Let’s go! Mono-e-mono, mare to stallion!” I taunted as I descended back to the ground. As soon as my boots were planted on the street, a flurry of punches hit my stomach and face. Blocking my torso did very little, so I prioritized protecting my face as I wrapped Zapp’s necklace around Fili-Second’s ankle. Once I felt the necklace loop twice and lock around her leg, I floated out of her reach and watched as her arms fruitlessly flailed while she fought against her new ball and chain. With her foot completely pinned to the asphalt, she couldn’t do anything except hop in place as she struggled against the magical necklace. A weak chuckle escaped my lips before a massive pink curling iron slammed into my back. I’m fairly certain I coughed up a bit of blood after that. I was too tired to even care about her safety and just threw a car at her. It was effective and, remarkably, she did’t die either, not that I was able to care with how much I was bleeding inside. I ended up relying mostly on my powers to keep myself steady because my legs would have certainly given out if I didn’t. “Is that the best you’ve got? Because I could do this all day.” I really couldn’t. I was tired, covered in bruises, definitely had a few fractured bones. I’m fairly certain that I would have died if I exerted any more pressure on my body. Fight scenes in comics and tv always look so easy, they never mention how much being punched over a hundred times a second hurts or that a person’s organs really don’t like flying up and down repeatedly. “You sure about that, sweetie?” Adagio asked as the enslaved ponies suddenly adopted fighting poses. “Oh… Oh That’s not fair.” “That’s kinda the point, genius!” Aria shouted. “Yeah! Thanks to these amulets, we can control anypony!” Sonata gloated stupidly. It was probably the most helpful thing she had said all day. Although my vision was turning a bit too blurry for me to really see it, I think I saw a hint of horror dawn on Adagio’s face back then. Not that she'd ever admit it if I bothered to ask, of course. “Your amulets? Fuck, I wish you said that earlier.” Before Adagio or the others to make a move, I reached out and felt for a something to grab onto. While Sonata and adagio’s amulets were just fabric chokers that had a spell similar to Radiance’s bracelet, Aria, being the punk of the trio, decorated hers in spikes. Metal spikes. The amulet was easily ripped off of Aria’s neck, sailing though the air like a bird as it landed in my open palm. I would have laughed at the expression on her face if it didn’t cause me indescribable pain. With only two thirds of the trio possessing a necklace, the spell that was holding the ponies captive began to fade away and the police were quick to dog pile on the fleeing teens. Dazed, tired, and definitely missing quite a bit of blood, I slinked off into an alley way before painfully flying back to the Everfree Forest. I was considerably lucky that no pegasi saw me as I left, or else they would have easily been able to keep up pace with me as I struggled to keep myself in the air. I didn’t even make it a third of the way to Camp Everfree before I blacked out under a tree that was far away from the main road. The day had been saved, and I ended up nearly bleeding out under some random tree in the forest. Definitely not one of the cleanest debuts in the world of heroes, but it certainly left a long-lasting impression on most of them. > Chapter 12. The World is Waiting. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Super Stallion Bedridden After First Brawl? A Hypnotic Hym Forces Heroes to Clash. 
 By Gabby Gums Staff Writer Trot City, BA - It’s a pegasus, it’s a blimp, no it’s the Mysterious Magnito. On June 27, 2050, the villainous trinity known as the Siren Sisters a.k.a the Dazzlings, Adagio Dazzle, Sonata Dazzle, and Aria Dazzle took Trot City by storm with their manipulative music, turning ponicemares into puppets and super powered mares into marionettes. Their ‘concerto of crime’ was thwarted by an up and coming new hero who calls themselves Magnito, an alleged earth pony stallion with either a curse or an enchantment that allows them to levitate objects without any visible aura. Witnesses at the scene reported seeing the scarlet stallion fly above the enslaved victims of the dastardly Dazzlings and use his assumed curse to disarm the ponice and fight five of the six powerful mares who make up the Power Ponies. Falling victim to the Dazziling’s enchanted amulets, the resident heroes of Trot City were forced to fight the masked stallion against their will. Yet, in spite of being outnumbered by the Power Ponies, Magnito was able to incapacitate them until he was able to steal one of the Dazzling’s amulets. Where he or the amulet went are currently unknown, though many ponies are searching hospitals and healthcare facilities in the hopes of finding the injured colt in crimson armor. Witnesses also claimed that the stallion was seriously injured by his prior fight with the Power Ponies, allegedly vomiting blood before fleeing the scene with the amulet still in his possession. While many mares and stallions wonder if this hero is alright, others are quick to point out that the Power Ponies should have stopped the stallion or refused to fight him. The Power Ponies expressed their frustration at these claims by telling reporters that they had no control of their actions during the battle and that they’re protected by Article S.M.L-1-A, the Nightmare code, where a pony or other creature being controlled by an enchantment or curse cannot be held accountable for their any crimes committed under the influence of an outside force so long as it can be proven that they were not in control of their actions. When asked about the new hero and their battle, the Masked Matter-Horn had this to say. “…My friends and I will do everything to make sure that not just Magnito, but all ponies and creatures in Equestria are safe from the threats of Chaos and Disharmony. As of now, we don’t know who Magnito is, but we wish him the best of luck in his recovery. And, if by some chance, he ends up hearing this, I beg you to return the Siren Amulet and seek medical attention, if you haven’t already. I also understand that having a curse or enchantment may make you feel like you have to be a hero. Please, if you’re out there Magnito, come find me and we can talk this out…” As of now, ponies around Equestria are waiting with bated breath to hear more about this mysterious stallion. Ponice officers and several members of the Power Ponies are still actively searching for the armored hero, while other officers are waiting patiently for any information that the Trottians of Trot City can divulge. If you have any information on Magnito, please call 111-585-328. Meanwhile, the sinister sisters behind the attack are scheduled for a trial later this upcomi- I found an old paperclip of my debut. I’m still honestly surprised that they managed to misspell my alias back then. How would anyone think Mag-Night-O sounded like Magneto? Anyway, while the ponies were searching for me in the city, I was holed up inside my room at Camp Everfree. When I came back covered in enough bruises and sprains to make me look like Mr. Blobby’s long lost sibling, the others instantly began to panic and shuffled me off to the nurses' quarters. I told them that I simply fell off of a small drop during my hike and warned them to watch their steps, I wasn't sure if they believed me and I didn't really care either. I just wanted to sleep like the dead in my bedroom and forget about everything. I actually miss my room at Camp Everfree, oddly enough. As I explained earlier, I had a certain fondness for nature because it reminded me of home. My private little slice of paradise was free of the reminders that I wasn’t on Earth, and for a brief moment each morning when I woke up, I actually believed that that I was still on my home world. It was a comfortable fantasy at the time, back when days were simpler and I wasn’t on every watch list known to Terrans. I can’t be too sad, though. I chose this life knowing what the consequences would be. I may be alone, but at least I can retain my humanity and my morals without the constant threat of needing to sacrifice one or the other for the creatures of Terra. Besides, I was already alone before I committed myself to this new life. One of the few ponies I actually liked suffered because of me, leading to my isolation and my desire to push these creatures away. All because I overlooked a blatantly obvious flaw in my plan to be a stupid glorified super hero. There was a stallion who had already seen "Magneto" months before anyone else. > Chapter 13. It's a Small World After All. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I was right about Gloriosa becoming another resident in our prison, though I turned out to be wrong about where she would go. Glory, or “Gaia” as she prefers now, is around a level four cursed criminal. The way this prison is set up is that criminals who used enchantments go in one area where our history doesn’t matter, while criminals with curses are kept separate and then divided into sectors based on how much of a threat they are. I suppose the Power Ponies would be a good example in this instance. Radiance, Matter-Horn, and Zapp have enchantments, objects that give them powers when they wear them. Without those enchanted objects, they’d be normal mares with no overtly unique abilities. Saddle Ragger, Fili-Second, and Marevelous, however, have curses. Curses can occur randomly, like being bitten by a certain type of bug, upsetting a spirit, making a wendigo laugh, reading a weird book, kissing something they really shouldn’t be kissing, essentially anything that could go in a Marvel Comics backstory. Saddle Ragger doesn’t need an enchanted item to hulk out because that’s a curse. The same applies to Fili-Second with her super-human speed, and Marevelous with her inhuman strength. Of course, Marevelous also possesses an enchanted lasso, which is pretty rare on both sides. Most heroes or villains fall into category A or B, while Marevelous is a bit of an outlier in that regard. If you’re a criminal who needed enchanted items, you go to the less secure prison with idiots like Cat Colt and Maresterio, and if you have a curse then you’re locked up tighter than Fort Knocks. Anyway, back to “Gaia”. I’m not entirely sure what it was that cursed her, but she’s become this world’s answer for Poison Ivy but with most of Dr. Freiz’s backstory. Last I heard, Timber was doing alright, but that was some time ago. I wonder I don’t know what Gloriosa and I would even talk about if we saw each other again. We’d probably blame each other for what happened to Timber, and I’d agree with her but I wouldn’t let her know that. She’s at fault for what happened, too. We both are in out own special ways. After all, if it weren’t for me then he would have probably lived an average life. I shouldn’t have stayed that day, I should have left. I should have just been alone like I am now. It all began nearly a week after my fight with the Dazzlings. Something about my mutant DNA apparently gave me an increased healing factor. I doubted that it was comparable to Logan’s healing factor since he could survive anything from a bullet to the head to being eaten by a hillbilly hulk, but it was still favorable to my old human body. At the rate of my improved immune system, I was on the road to making a full recover in a little bit under a month. As I lazed in bed recovering, the police were still searching for “Magnito” as they incorrectly labeled me. I was a bit worried about how they would react when I inevitably returned. Quite a few articles had speculated that I was trying to steal the Siren Amulet, so I definitely wouldn’t be able to keep it as a token of my first battle. I didn’t even mean to take it when I flew off, I was just so exhausted that I didn’t notice that I was holding the it until I woke up a few hours later. While I was resting in bed, my tattered costume and the amulet were locked up inside an old time capsule that Timber bought and never used. Thankfully, I didn’t need to remember where it was buried since I could just follow my senses to it later. I wasn’t even sure how to go about giving it back. Was there a museum I needed to go tp, would the police take it, did I need to call the Harmony League and schedule a meeting? A lot of the papers were saying they wanted to find it, but none of them bothered to leave me any instructions for how to do that! As I read the weather schedule, (because of course they can control the weather for some reason) a knock at the door called for my attention. “Yeah?” I called out, setting my paper aside. “Hey Xavier, it’s me, Timber. Do you mind if I come in?” “Sure thing,” I called back. Timber held a newspaper under his arm and a glass of orange juice for me to start the day. Aside from my “fall” in the forest, I was also still recovering from my tangle with my caffeinated demons, so only healthy drinks were on the menu for me. “Soooo, you’ve been reading the papers, huh?” “Yup, Trott City is getting a heavy downpour next week, so we should probably grab groceries a bit earlier,” I replied. “Right, right. Hey, what do you think of that Magnito dude,” I swear I could hear the misspelling in his voice. “Yup. About time some stallion supers started cropping up huh?” “I guess. So, how are you feeling?” “Better than I was yesterday, hopefully worse than tomorrow.” “Good, good,” he replied, finally handing me the glass of orange juice. “… You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?” Timber asked. “Say what?” “That you’re Magneto,” he said is a hushed whisper. I felt my veins turn to ice as I started to question every decision I made, still completely ignorant to the fact that Timber saw me in the damned costume already. Not giving me a moment to respond, Timber unfurled the newspaper under his arm and showed it to me. On the front page was a picture of the broadcast the Dazzling’s were running, where I was nearly struck by Zapp’s lightning. “You were wearing this costume when we first met. It’d be weird if I didn’t notice something like this.” “It does look a bit like my costume, I guess.” “It’s not ‘like’ your costume, this is your costume.” “Look, I told you that hero fell into a time vortex,” Timber didn’t give me the courtesy of letting me continue my bullshit as he cut me off. “Xavier, do you think I’m an idiot?” There was an uncomfortable amount of silence after that question. I didn’t think he was an idiot, not at all. However, I did think he was extremely gullible, almost dangerously so. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied. Unconvincingly, I might add.
 “Xavier, I know you’re Magneto. Do you really think I couldn’t put two and two together? You were wearing the same costume when we met, and now everypony is looking for a stallion that was beaten bloody by a bunch of mares. And you just so happened to trip down a steep drop the same day Magneto fought the Power Ponies? “ “Look, I can explain.” “Explain what, that you lost your mind and decided to, to be a vigilante? Don’t you understand how dangerous this is? You could die!” “I’m not going to die, Timber.” “So, you admit you’re Magneto then?” He asked with a snap of his fingers. I stumbled on my words a bit after that, taken aback by his accusation and his subsequent childish trick. “No! I’m not Magneto, Timber. That’s ridiculous,” I dismissed as I tried to pull myself out of bed. While I was doing better, I was certainly no spring chicken. Random aches and pains still riddled my body after my fight with the Power Ponies, and not even an advanced healing factor could dull the irritating stabs of pain. “Hey, hey, lay down, you need rest.” “I’m fine, Timber. Just forget about this whole ‘Magneto’ thing.” “Nuh-ah. I know who you are, and I’m not letting you put yourself in danger like that again. I’m your friend, Xavier, and friends don’t let friends dress up and fight supervillains.” “That’s not a friendship rule, Timber.” “Well it is now. So, lay down, get some rest and stop—” “Mother-fucker!” I yelped as he grabbed my arm. Alright, so I was in a bit more pain than I realized, so I decided to not fight him anymore and crawl back into bed. “This is exactly what I’m talking about, Xavier. You can barely stand on your own,” Timber admonished. “I’m fine Timbe-YOU FUCKING WHORE!” I shouted as he decided to poke my side. “You were saying?” “Suck a bag of dicks, that’s what I was saying,” I grumbled as I laid back down. “I don’t know why you would think being a ’hero’ was with this.” “You’re not letting that go, are you?” “Are you going to keep lying to me?” A quietly contemplated trying to find another way out of the conversation with Timber. He was right, and even if I miraculously managed to convince him otherwise, it would just take another ‘fall’ on a trail to convince him otherwise. After releasing a tired and annoyed breath, I stared at the ceiling as I spoke to him. “Fine, you caught me, congratulations. Can we pretend this never happened now, and move on with our lives?” “Aw come on, at least tell me why you’re trying to be a super hero.” “And why would I do that?” “Because friends are supposed tp be honest with each other,” he claimed. Before I could make a rebuttal, he leaned in and stared into my eyes. “You’re my friend, Xavier, but I don’t think you’ve been honest with me once.” A bit uncomfortable from the invasion of my personal space, I placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him a little bit away. “Fine. Fine, fine, fine. But you need to promise not to tell anyone, alright. Nobody else can know. Not your sister, not any of the campers, not even Day Breaker herself. Okay?” “Is it really—" “Promise,” I stated with a bit more authority. “Alright, alright. Cross my heart, and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” he monotoned as he did a series of odd hand gestures to accompany the rhyme. Once again, pony culture was completely lost on me, so I didn’t give his little rhyme as much serious thought as other creatures on this world do. Still reluctant to share anything about myself, I tried to think of the best way to broach the subject of my displacement across time and space. I wasn’t at all comfortable with sharing my story with Timber, but I had known him for close to four months at that point, and he had been more helpful than any other creature on the planet. He gave me clothes, food, a job, a h a place to sleep all without asking anything in return. He was too good for this world. I ended up using him as the example of what his species was capable of, but I was wrong. While he reflected some of the negative aspects of this world’s morals and beliefs, his personality and infectious honesty were all his own. For the stallion that gave me hope for his species, I could try to give him the truth, though I was still unhappy about it. “What I told you about comic con was true, Timber, though that was where a majority of my truths ended. I ended up upsetting a vengeful little demon by shouting at him after he stole my helmet. I was teleported to the Everfree Forest where I met you later that same day. “I’m… I’m not from this world, Timber. That day in the forest, I don’t know what happened. I… I pissed off some thing and I woke up here with these powers but I didn’t know about those yet, so I thought I was still on Earth. But then I found out that I was on another world and I wanted to go home but, but I don’t know how to do it on my own so I thought I’d earn their trust and maybe I’d find a way back and, and I” my voice began to crack as I continued, my words growing faster and less organized with each passing second. I rambled for nearly half an hour, covering everything I had done from my first day to my last in Equestria. I told him about how I hit Prismia with a car after seeing him get taken as a hostage, that I trained entire nights trying to master my powers and how I had to get used to a new body on a new world. I even went into a worried tangent about how I could have gotten block lung from trying to clean up the Polaris Palace. I’m not ashamed to admit I cried as I kept talking in random rabbit holes where a story would lead to a deeper fear and a harsher piece of resentment. I felt a lot of tension leave my body as I talked, and I was grateful that Timber kept his interruption s limited to only asking for clarity on a few things. By the time I was finished, I was out of breath and felt more tired than I had been in days. For a while, the only sound that filled the room was the sound of my ragged breathing as I steadied my heart and dried my eyes. Timber was respectfully silent, only offering me some consolation by patting my back as I calmed my nerves. When he finally broke the silence, he stood up to stretch his legs as he ran his fingers through his mossy green hair. “Wow… I was not expecting that much… You doing okay?” Too exhausted from my venting, I only replied with a tired nod before he continued on. “Cool… Cool… Wow. No wonder you don’t act like a normal stallion at all. You’re an alien!” He exclaimed before I desperately shushed him. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just, wow this explains so much! Like, I always wondered why you didn’t say ‘somepony’ or ‘anypony’ and you say ‘fuck’ instead of ‘buck’ and the fact that you didn’t know about Friendsgiving, and,” As he began pacing back and forth, listing off every “strange” characteristic about myself or my overall personally, I felt his words sink in like a knife. Having our differences pointed out one after the other just it made it I know I knew we were different already, but, something about what he said made it feel more “solid” I suppose. I opened myself up to Timber and he reaffirmed everything I knew with just a few words. I know he didn’t mean anything by it, it was simply his naivety and own social awkwardness. They were both charming in their own unique little ways. It was the type of naivety where what they say is more accurate than they can even realize. To him, I was the alien, not the other way around. Yet, despite having an extra-terrestrial, a creature from another world living with him after lying for so long, he still called me his friend. “Oh, this is awesome! My best friend is an alien!” I wore a bit of a hesitant smile at that. I considered him a friend, and I suppose by default he was my “best” friend, but a familiar feeling of uncertainty crept into my mind as I tried to stamp it out with a little bit of positive thinking. While I was still weary of trusting others, I had just poured out my heart to Timber and he had stood by my side the entire time. He earned at least a bit of my trust. And, at the time, it felt right to call him my friend. For what it was worth, I valued our friendship above anything else on this strange world. He gave me faith in this planet's ponies, a hope that they could reflect his positivity. And now, I can only feel sorry for how it ended. Perhaps I should see if Gloriosa can get mail in her cell. It would be nice to hear if TImber is doing better. > Chapter 14. Making My Way in The World. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Radiance came by to visit me earlier today. Out of all the Power Ponies, I feel like she was the only one who gave any serious thought to my beliefs. With the others it would always be an argument. Zapp would shout for a while, sometimes I would shout back when she said something decidedly dumber than her usual brand of stupidity, and she’d finish off our meeting by saying there was no hope for me. Then Saddle Ragger would tell me that my thoughts were just my inner demons or some other religious drool. Fili-Second wouldn’t even try to approach any subjects relating to my morals or beliefs, often just going on about how the weather is and what’s on tv. Matter Horn likes to debate but I hate debating here. I think I understand the original Magneto’s pain just a bit more now when he had to debate that stubborn professor. Marevelous hasn’t come to see me since the first visit, so she was currently my favorite Power Pony at the moment. My second “favorite”, and I use that term relatively loosely, was Radiance since she neither forced the conversation to be about my values or tried to avoid the topic. I think, out of all of them, she understood me better than the rest of them. She wasn’t as against the idea of permanently dealing with villains as her friends were, and the only times she attempted to sway me were half-hearted, as if they were just token gestures so that she could claim she tired. I still didn’t like her, at least not like I did when I was a hero, but she was the most tolerable. We didn’t say much of note, just that we were both relatively well (as well as a person in a prison of deviants can be), and she ended our conversation by asking for a favor. Cat Colt, the little leech that had been sticking near me during lunch hours and our recreation period, is apparently Saddle Ragger’s sibling. They wanted me to keep an eye on her little brother in here until Saddle Ragger lawyers could find a way to get him out legally. A bit surprised to learn about a hero and villain dynamic that didn’t align to any comics from Earth, I attempted to interrogate Radiance on how a super heroes younger brother turned to a life of burglary. For once, the gossiping enchantress didn’t immediately go into the details of someone else’s life, and just told me to ask Zephyr if I wanted to know. Naturally, I wanted to know if I would get anything out of our little arrangement, and she told me to name my price. I immediately asked where my helmet was, thinking that I could lower my demands to something more reasonable from there I was actually very surprised when she answered without an ounce of hesitation. When I asked why she was so willing to give that up, she said, “You couldn’t get to it, anyway, Darling. Starswirl’s Vault in Canterlot isn’t just a matter of distance, it’s also one of the most heavily guarded facilities in Equestria.” “If it’s so impressive, then how do the Dazzlings and others keep getting their enchantments back?” “Because there’s a stallion in here who earned a place in the enchanted’s prison without having enchantments,” she hinted with a familiar knowing and smug look. “Zephyr? That clown was able to break into the Vault?” I asked. I suppose even if he was an annoying little wart that clung to me, he was or I suppose is, this world’s equivalent of Cat Woman. “Surprising, isn’t it? The ponice were just as surprised, which is why it took so long to collect enough evidence for an arrest and trial. Saddle Ragger is doing her best to dismiss most of the evidence as circumstantial, but it was pretty damning when we found that uh… Unique piece of clothing in his apartment.” “You could catch him in the vault itself and I would have still doubted it,” I retorted, earning a little giggle from the mare. “Now, if that’s all, I believe we’re almost out of time for today. Goodbye, Radiance,” I said, standing up from my seat and reaching over to hang up the phone. “Wait a moment, Darling,” Radiance called. “What about our agreement? If not for a friend, then surly you’ll want to help the colt that broke into the Starswirl’s vault?” Clever bitch. “A deal’s a deal, I suppose,” and with that, I walked away. She was a fool for believing that Zephyr and I were helpless. With my abilities and Zephyr’s knowledge, I would be able to retrieve my helmet and any enchanted item in the vault. I haven’t had the opportunity to talk to Zephyr yet, but after this entry I’ll try to find him and learn everything I can about the vault. I suppose for the sake of time I should skip the next week of bed-rest and the following week of catching up on the work that I needed to do. I hadn’t realized how much of a burden a secret identity was until I shared it with Timber. He still didn’t fully approve of my plan to earn the heroes’ trust and find a way back to my world, but he still tried to help. The schedule was re-arranged a bit to give me more opportunities to slip away and help with the only downside being my cut paycheck and that I had to do a majority of cleaning in the forest. Of course, I was alone when I had to fish up trash in the lake and around the immediate area of the camp, places where I could expedite my work by immediately collecting the cans and finish work faster than ever. By the end of the week, I had come up with a plan regarding the enchanted amulet. I still had the Dazzling’s necklace tucked away in a satchel (it’s not a purse, there’s a difference. An Earthling difference, granted, but still a difference). I didn’t really know what to do with it, so I thought dropping by the police station would be the best option. Of course, I wanted to earn a few brownie points as well, so I looked in the Yellow Pages for a donut shop and asked if they were willing to deliver a box of donuts to their own roof. They didn’t even raise an eyebrow at my request. I suppose they were used to Pegasi quite literally “dropping” by to pick up breakfast. So, after donning my costume which was still sporting a rather sizable hole in my cape, I flew off to Trott City with money for the donuts and the amulet. After getting the confectionaries from the dumfounded mare who was standing on the roof, I flew towards the TCPD with my peace offerings and amulet. It wasn’t hard to grab their attention as I floated down, causing several guards who were previously lounging outside with cigarettes or coffee to immediately discard their pleasant distractions as they drew their weapons. “Wait! Wait! Don’t shoot!” I shouted, throwing my hands up and preparing the invisible magnetic field around me to catch any bullets from some Trigger Happy Trixie idiot. “Keep your guns on him, everypony, but don't shoot unless I say so!” A voice called out as a mare in a long brown trench coat stepped through the front doors of the TCPD. She was an earth pony with blue and pink colored hair and beige skin. She wore a cold scowl on her face as she walked down the steps and dug into her coat, pulling out a badge as her other hand fished for her gun. “Commissioner Bon-Bon, TCPD. I got a system setup for detecting illegal enchantments in my office, and it was ringing louder than my alarm clock just now. So, drop the enchantment or else,” she ordered as she cocked her pistol. “That’s why I’m here,” I said, taking off the satchel and floating it over to the commissioner by the rings. “I come in peace with donuts,” I promised, holing out the bag of confectionaries in my outstretched arm. “What’re the donuts for?” The mare asked. “Um… Eating? You know, police like donuts, right?” I tried to laugh a little to lighten the tension. A few of them shared a confused glance with each other while the commissioner snatched the satchel out of the air and dug through it. I shouldn’t have been surprised that police stereotypes didn’t fully carry over between worlds, but it actually stung a little to know that they didn’t understand Earth humor. It felt awkward being stared at like I had just said a string of random gibberish and it acted as another subtle reminder that this world wasn’t like my own. “About time you brought this back! What the heck were you doing with it this whole time?” Commissioner Bon-Bon demanded, shaking the amulet angrily as her scowl deepened. “Using it as a paper weight, what else?” I joked with a shrug. “Funny colt, huh? Well, why don’t you come inside, we’ve got a nice room where you can practice your material.” “I don’t suppose we could put a pin in that, could we?” I suggested, taking a slight step back and prompting several safeties to be turned off on the police’s guns. “We could put lead in it, instead. Your choice,” the commissioner retorted. “Am I being charged with something?” “If you try to fly off, absolutely.” I would have argued that she didn’t have any right to take me in, but considering how little I actually knew about this world’s laws, and the fact that I wanted to leave a good impression on the heroes of Terra, I decided to do as they would do and stood down. Running away from the police definitely wouldn’t leave any good impressions, and it would have been difficult to escape since a third of the police force had wings. “Alright, but I’d like to keep on my helmet, if that’s okay.” The Commissioner looked back at the precinct for a moment, staring at, what I thought, was nothing in particular. Blatantly staring at a wall with nothing on it should have set off a red flag or two, but I was too naïve back then. So, with my ignorance acting as a ball and chain, I waited for her answer. “Fine, but any funny business, and we’re gonna make it a paperweight, got it?” “Loud and clear,” I said with a mock salute. Rolling her eyes in exaggeration, the commissioner holstered her weapon and sent a silent command for the other officers to follow suit. As we entered the lobby of the precinct and passed under what looked like a metal detector, I felt a strange sensation wash over me. It wasn’t a sensation derived from myself, like fear or anxiety. It was something more physical, like the cold touch of winter on bare skin. Commissioner Bon-Bon lead me to a windowless room with only a pair of chairs facing each other and a table between them. I was able to easily recognize it as an interrogation room, but the severe lack of cameras of any hints of a two way mirror threw me for a loop. Instead of a blatantly obvious mirror on the wall, the police had put in an enchantment to blend the window into the stone walls that lined the room. It was the same type of enchantment that Moondancer had at her shop and the one that hid the Terror Twin’s lair. The room was also prepared solely for me in mind. There wasn't a scrap of metal in the entire room. The table and chairs had been replaced with a wooden table and two plastic folding chairs, the lights above me were the same ones used by the Flim Flam brothers, and even the door was replaced with a thick oak door. “Sit right there. Some ponies have a few questions for you,” Bon-Bon ordered. "And don't do anything stupid, alright." Nodding in compliance, I took my seat opposite of the door before she closed it behind me. I still had my box of donuts on hand, and with nothing else to do, I decided to take one out and eat as I waited. I spent good money on those donuts for a joke only I could laugh at, I was going to get some enjoyment out of them. When I was around two donuts in, the door finally opened, revealing the Masked Matter Horn standing behind the threshold. She was holding a clipboard under her arm along with a manila folder. At a glance, there was almost nothing different about her costume aside from the missing metal horn, but her metal bracelets and knee guards, along with the impractical strip of metal that cupped her breasts before connecting back at the base of her shoulder-blades, (I couldn't imagine that was comfortable) had each been replaced with plastic replicas which were likely enchanted to be nearly as strong as the original metal pieces of her uniform. It seemed like any words she prepared died in her throat when she looked at me eating. We simply stared at each other for a few uncomfortable moments before I scooted the Donut box closer. “Donut?” I offered dumbly. Blinking out of her silent stupor, the fake unicorn looked at the pastries before walking inside and taking her seat. “Thank you,” she said as she took one of the sprinkled confectionaries. 
 She laid down the manila folder, still closed, and placed the clipboard beside it, revealing a checklist with dozens of blank boxes. “So, Magneto, do you know why you’re here right now?” “I’m going to assume it’s not to get a pat on the back for bringing the amulet.” “‘Pat on the back?’” She parroted. “What, don’t you have pats on the back here?” Yet another discrepancy between worlds. For this world, the equivalent would be “Hug and a nuzzle.” Considering how gruesome this world can be at times, it’s almost baffling how curtsey it tries to be. “I don’t think we do. Anyway, you’re here because we’re worried,” Matter Horn explained. “About what?” She threw a glance at the wall to the right of us, an action I chose to ignore as she opened up the manila folder. “Would you feel comfortable removing your enchantment?” She asked, to which I answered immediately. “No.” “I was afraid of that,” she muttered. “Would you mind telling me anything about your enchantment. Where you found it, what you know about it, if some creature convinced you to do something? Anything really.” “Can I ask why it’s important?” “The scanner you went through at the entrance didn’t detect any malicious patterns in your enchantment, but we’d just like to make sure you’re,” she paused once more, flipping through the papers in her folder once more before pulling out a picture. “We want to make sure you’re safe with your enchantment. The power scanner isn’t as accurate as the ones used at the Harmony Castle, so we still don’t know much about it or your enchantment. Tell me, does this mare look familiar to you.” Sliding the picture over to me, Matter Horn leaned back into her chair as I picked up the picture. It was a grey faced woman with a blue goat horn and a yellow deer antler sticking out of the sides of her head. She wore a brown suit jacket with yellow gloves, one was a leather fingerless glove while the other looked like a wool glove. The only other things of note were the mugshot sign board that listed her name as Eris and the black piece of tape that covering where the eyes should have been on the photo. She wore a twisted smile as she stared at the camera. Peaking behind the tape as she tried to look at me. The eyes weren’t there. But they were. I felt them staring into me, piercing my soul with judgment as I gazed into an abyss of madness locked behind a flimsy door. As soon as I would turn my back that door would open by just a hair, earning inches on seconds as the madness inside crawled out from “Is she someone important?” I ended up asking as I pushed the picture back to Matter Horn. “Have you met her?” She asked. “No, I haven’t seen her before. I bought my enchantment around a year ago and I’ve been practicing with it since then,” I listed off. It wasn’t entirely a lie, only the part about how long I was in Equestria was inaccurate. “Who did you buy it from?” “A stallion in a dusty trench coat. He had tan skin and a a leather jacket with a hood. I couldn’t see his face because of his ugly purple scarf.” Another lie. I bought the enchantment from Moondancer and took back my property from the salesman, he could keep all of his trash. Of course, at the time, I thought she was only referring to the enchantment that hid my face. The scanner in the entrance of the TCPD looks for any hints of curses or enchantments, and since my abilities didn’t originate from either, it only detected the enchantment in my helmet. I’m glad I was too naive to realize what they were implying back then. If I had, then I may have tried to explain my abilities better in some feeble bid to earn more of their trust. And now, their trust would be one of the tools for my inevitable escape. “And what did he say when he sold it to you?” Matter Horn asked as she pressed on with her questions. “Is there a point to all this?” She ignored my question as she checked off several boxes on her clipboard. Feeling a pang of anxiety race through me, I reigned myself in and adopted a more professional posture, like a student sitting in the principal’s office. I wasn’t equals with Matter Horn, I was the rookie, the unknown factor that had just wandered in demanding others call me a hero. Being irrational or showing any sign of negative emotions towards her would only earn their scorn. Coughing awkwardly, I tried to back-pedal on my last comment. “Sorry, I’m just a little nervous right now.” “I can understand that, Magneto. The ‘point’ of this is to gauge… How we should approach you. You were able to resist the Dazzling’s enchantment, and fought against my friends and I without any outside help. I can guess that you want to try being a hero professionally, right?” “Yes ma’am,” I answered with enough confidence to mask my doubt. “I just want to make sure you understand what you’re doing, and to see if you’re able to handle this. In the past, I would have tried to talk you out of this, or tell you that you weren’t allowed, but past experience is a… It’s a teacher. So, Magneto, do you really want to be a hero. And let me clarify, that means putting the lives of the innocent first, not just protecting them but ensuring others can’t get hurt. It’s a lot of weight to carry, Magneto, not everypony can, especially considering… certain factors,” she meant my gender and how others would regard me. I already had months of experience dealing with degrading comments and remarks. If I couldn't take a few taunts and crude gestures from mares, then it would have been impossible for me to go home. “It’s a taxing job, and it’s not as thankful as many ponies think it is, and it’s not a job you can take lightly. There is an alternative. I’ve been authorized to give you one hundred and twenty thousand bits if you hand in your enchantment willingly. It’ll be given to somepony who can properly wield it, likely an officer or agent, and you get to leave this behind. No questions about who you are, how you got it, you just get the money and leave the enchantment.” With her ultimatum delivered, she pulled out a slip of paper from the folder and slid it to me. It was check with the more zeroes than I had ever seen on a check before. And, considering that I bought a dozen donuts for only a dollar and nickels and dimes, that much money in this world would have been in the millions on mine. If I were on Earth, I would have definitely thought about her offer. Especially since I lost almost nothing. I’d still have my powers, they’d have a helmet that could block telepaths and not much else, it was the greatest scam ever told. But, I didn’t need their money as much as I needed their trust at the time. This was clearly a test, a way to see how “good” I was in their eyes. Accepting that check would help me in a few ways, but not as much as earning the respect and favor of the heroes. Why would I need a hundred thousand bits if I was rubbing elbows with some of the richest super heroes on the planet, heroes who could owe me one day? After taking a moment to weigh my options, I slid the check back to Matter Horn. “I just want to help, Matter Horn. Thank you for the offer, but this is something I need to do. I’ve spent the past year working towards this. I’m not going to give up now just because of a few zeroes on a piece of paper.” To my delight, Matter Horn smiled as she stood up from her chair and leaned forward, extending a delicate hand as an olive branch of trust. “Well then, let me be one of the first ponies to welcome you to Trot City, Magneto.” “The pleasure is all mine, Matter Horn,” I said as I grasped her hand with a firm shake. It's funny, now that I can look back on it. Even their handshake felt completely foreign to me. So limp and awkward compared to the professional grip of a human. It felt wrong in my hand. > Chapter 15. The World Behind Cement Walls. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- My rush to gain Zephyr's help has greatly hindered my plans to escape. During breakfast, I was able to finally talk to Zephyr and learn more about him, earning a valuable pawn for my plan to escape this insufferable prison. As usual, I was content with only an apple as my first meal. I had gotten sick of the comments made about how there was, “something special,” or “a bit more love” in whenever the Dazzlings were in rotation for serving us. Sonata, abandoning any sense of subtlety, would usually confirm or deny any tampering by loudly announcing it as if I didn’t understand the art of subtlety. Some of the other inmates wisely avoided the oatmeal, milk boxes, and such, with one of the few exceptions being Zephyr. It disgusted me how well he and Sonata got along, like a pair of dogs that were all too eager to shag in a public park. In fact, I’m not too sure what’s actually stopping them from just skipping the banter and slipping away to have sex already. When Aria, somehow acting as the voice of reason for once, finally made him leave, he began walking towards me with a smile that was too cheerful for the morning. I choose a more secluded table, one that I made certain no one else would sit at after an “episode” as the doctors here like to call it. Personally, I called it justifiable beating, but it’s all a matter of perspective. Idle threats were usually enough to chase off anyone who thought of sitting at my table, but Zephyr was a rare type of stupid, the kind that wouldn’t understand the concept of death if it were holding him over a volcano. At least, that’s what I had thought before my conversation with him. “Sup, Mags? How you doing?” “Suppressing the urge to strangle you.” “Great, keep that up by the way. Me? Oh, I’m doing great! I,” I cut off whatever annoying drivel he was preparing to launch into with a bold fact. “Your sister and her friends came to me yesterday.” A refreshing silence filled the air as I bit into my breakfast. “So, you, uh, you know about my sis, huh?” “I do. I’ve also been told that you know how to break into Starswirl’s Vault in Canterlot.” The surprise and worry that covered his face easily melted away at my latter comment, causing the teal stallion to blink owlishly as he turned his attention back to his oatmeal. “Huh, I thought everypony in here knew that already.” “I’m not a pony, Zephyr.” “You get what I mean. No need to be so sensitive about it.” I resisted the urge to slam his face in that oatmeal and drown him in it. My humanity meant more to me than their idiotic vernacular. During my entire time as a hero, I had given up my title as a human to blend in with these creatures. I'm not about to let go of it again now that I have the freedom to share who I am. “I’m not wasting my breath on this again, Zephyr. You’ve been inside Starswirl’s Vault. How did you do it?” “Because I’m awesome.” “For once, take something seriously.”
 “Seriousness is for business, Mags, I’m on vacation right now.” “Vacation? We’re in prison, you idiot!” “Yeah, I’ve never been to prison before, so I’m counting this as a vacation,” he shrugged steeling a glance at Sonata as she winked at him. “Plus, the company in here is nice too.” I snapped my fingers next to his ears to grab his attention again. “Hey, Romeo, focus. The Vault, how did you of all creatures manage to get inside it.” “My name’s Zephyr,” he corrected with the same stupid innocence of a child. I groaned into my hands as I lied my elbows on the table, already regretting that I had decided to get out of bed today. “Zephyr, you broke into the vault, right?” I asked, slowly lifting my head from my hands. “Yup,” he proudly stated. “Well, if you could break into the Vault, why haven’t you tried to get out of here?” “Like I said, company in here is nice.” He threw another glance at the teenage looking earth pony and I couldn’t help but feel a bit more disgusted. I knew she wasn’t a teenager, and I also knew that she was older than Zephyr by at least three years, but I couldn’t help but feel revolted by the colt sitting next to me. Another series of snaps brought him back to our conversation and partially out of my discomfort. “Focus. If you can break out of here, then I want you to go to Canterlot and bring me my helmet.” “Mags, I’m on vacation.” “You are eating oatmeal that a psychopath probably spat in at best, and at worst did something that would lengthen her sentence,” I reasoned. I felt absolutely revolted when he stared me dead in the eyes, never breaking contact, and ate a spoonful of oatmeal without a hint of worry. I would have gagged if I hadn’t been numbed to a number of repulsive things in Terra. “You disgust me.” He only shrugged in response before finally breaking off eye contact. “What can I say? I was never raised to with ‘social etiquette’ or whatever. Plus, the only mares in my life were my ma and sis. Excuse me for enjoying having a mare or two glance my way.” “How in the world did your sister become a raging monster while you,” I suddenly felt a handle plastic spoon press against my jaw “Word to the wise, Mags, don’t piss off the stallion that can break into Starswirl’s vault.” “Are you threatening me with a piece of cheap plastic?” I asked incredulously. “A piece of plastic that would hurt like a mutt if it went in your eye,” he countered. The handle quickly ran from under my jaw to the bottom of my eyelid, digging into my skin as it pressed against my socket. I wasted no time smacking his arm away and growling at him. “Don’t do that again.” “Don’t insult my sis and I won’t,” he offered. “I hope you realize that the only reason you’re not dead right now is because you’re useful to me.” “I’m useful to everypony, Mags. I’m practically immortal,” he boasted, taking another spoonful of his disgusting breakfast as he continued talking. “I get it mags, you’re mad that you got busted and thrown in here with us, but you really need to lighten up. All that anger isn’t good for you, dude. I mean, I think I’m starting to see a few white hairs on your head.” “Your attempts at comedy are appreciated as always, Zephyr,” I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose to focus on the slight pain. “Aw, thanks. I’m glad some one can laugh at my jokes every now and then.” Ignoring his remark, I went back to my earlier question. “Zephyr, how did Saddle Ragger become a hero,” I emphasized. “while you became an insufferable prick who calls a prison cell his vacation home?” Zephyr gave me a scrutinizing look, likely debating how much to share with me. To my great surprise, he apparently thought he could trust me with his entire life’s story. Maybe it was because I worked alongside his sister once, or maybe he actually thought I was his friend. Either way, I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. “Saddle and I had a good childhood, I guess. It was,” he paused to maul over his thoughts for a moment. “safe. Safe and boring. Our parents were always too scared to go outside, heck, they were too scared to even join a herd. When my sis was bullied at school for having mono parents, ma and pa started homeschooling her. And then, when I was born, they homeschooled me from the get-go. No family trips to the amusement park, no Nightmare Nights, no action figures because then they’d need to actually go to the store. “It wasn’t their fault. See, before my sister was born, my ma was a hero named Sphinx, I actually took a bit of inspiration from her when I made my identity. Anyway, something bad happened and somepony found out about ma’s identity. Pa… They never told us what happened, but I could guess. They went into a protection program for heroes and just started jumping at every shadow. It’s not their fault, I know that, but, I wanted more. “So, a year after sis left, I did too. I wanted to explore the world, see everything and anything. Eat new food, sit on beaches, try everything!” He recited with a child-like excitement. “But… but money doesn’t grow on bushes. I blew through everything I had in a week. Then I ended up getting into some debt with some bad mares. I learned I was really good at not being noticed, and I had a knack for memorizing schedules and patterns. I robbed those creeps for everything they had and got the ponice to nab ‘em. “I felt so alive, then. Sneaking into buildings, collecting money and valuables like they were just points in a game, going to expensive restaurants and private beaches. When I got a taste of that, I couldn’t let go of it. I finally had what I never knew I really wanted. I had a life, freedom, I had the world in my hands. And… and my Sis just wanted me to let that go. Maybe I could have been a hero or something, make… Make ma proud, but… I don’t know. I just know they’re both really disappointed in me. “I could try at least. Try to go clean, maybe help out the heroes. I just don’t know. I want to be with my family out there, not have to talk to my sis through a window.” “So, you’d really give it up for your family?” “Family’s important, Mags.” I had to agree with him on that. As a man from another world, I have no family here, and I could respect Zephyr for for his decision. He was willing to give up everything he had made for himself to be with his family again. In a way, it was admirable. It was also a great hinderance to my plans. Zephyr was the only pony who knew how to break into the Vault. Sooner or later, someone would seek him out and break him free from our prison so that he could work for them. And, if I wanted to escape without revealing the true nature of my powers, I would need him to get my helmet back from the vault. Besides, if he helped me, then could have all the money he ever wanted. It was a small price to pay for ensuring this world’s safety. Thinking for a moment, I tried to find something to sway him to my side when a thought suddenly struck me. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I can respect that, Zephyr. I can see I don’t need to keep my promise to your sister.” “Promise?” “To keep an eye on you. They wanted me to make sure you didn’t get hurt in here. There are a lot of big bad mares in prison, after all.” It lasted only a second, but the sound of silent disbelief and surprise was glorious to hear. “I can take care of myself,” he stated coldly. “Well I know you can, but the others? Well, they told me to protect you, so I’ll protect you.” “I don’t need protection, Mags. Nearly everypony in here owes me, I’ve got feathers in about every pillow,” I think that means that he has connections? “I’ll be fine without your help.” “Well I know you can protect yourself. But the others? I don’t want to be a liar, Zephyr. So, if they ask, just tell them I protected you from all the scary mares.” I was never happier to have my arm slapped away when I placed it on his shoulder. “I know what you’re doing, Mags. You think I haven’t been played before?” That had unfortunately thrown me a bit off balance. I had put too much of my hope into planting seeds of doubt in his mind, and I needed a more direct approach if subtly and deception weren't options. “I know you’re smarter than you let on, Zephyr. Just think about this for a moment. What’s going to happen when you ‘go clean’? A lot of ponies in here won’t be happy to hear that, you know. That means they’ll drag you back in, they’ll find out who’s close to you and they’ll hurt you. You go into hiding, though. Spend the rest of your life inside your house, giving up your whole life because you’re afraid of some would-be villain finding you. “I want to make a world where what happened to your parents can’t happen again, Zephyr.” “By killing ponies?” “I’m not a serial killer, Zephyr. I don’t go hunting down innocent ponies or kill others on a whim, I just do what needs to be done. What happened to the villain that hurt your dad, huh? They’re probably locked up, right? But then they escaped or they will escape, and then what? You want to go ‘clean’? Do it by helping me. Help me make this world better, Zephyr.” “Mags, you can’t make a better world by stacking corpses. Come on dude, you were a hero.”
 “I am a hero!” I yelled, causing the ambient noise around us to die. He stared at me like I had lost my mind. A judgmental gaze that screamed disbelief and morbid wonder. It all melted into a look of abject disgust before picking up his tray and looking down at me. “They were right about you. You’re actually insane.” As he turned to walk away, I stood up from my seat and shouted at him in, what I wish was a rare moment of rage. In truth, I was very easy to anger at times, but tried my best to hide it. This was not one of those times. “Don’t act like you have the moral high ground, Zephyr! How many times have you helped someone that killed others? How many of those enchantments that you stole were used against ponies like your dad, huh?” His steps slowed to a crawl as his wings began to shudder. It was the only warning I had before his fists came flying into my face. It wasn’t the elegant type of battle that heroes and villains would preform on television. It was raw, nearly animalistic rage as we punched, scratched, and bit and any part we could latch onto. The only thing that quelled our blind fury with each other was the sudden pressure around our necks as the collars began to strangle us. Once I passed out from being chocked by my collar, I woke up in my cell once more, where I can do nothing more than toil away in regrets as I write this journal entry. I’m almost certain that I’ve lost Zephyr as an ally now. If this continues, then I may have no choice but to reveal my true abilities to escape this hell hole. It wouldn’t be much of an issue if it weren’t for ponies like Nightmare Moon, who would easily deduce a way to stop me once she learned of my secret. What else could I expect from this world’s answer to Batman? 
I think I’ll take this time to rest my mind for a while. If Zephyr was right about anything in our conversation, it was that I needed a moment to relax. > Chapter 16. World's Greatest Detective. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I’m not sure how to begin this journal entry. Today was uncomfortably boring for me. My recreational privileges were revoked for an, as of yet, unspecified amount of time, and I now have to attend mandatory group therapy tomorrow. Not even the other inmates near my cell said anything of note that could alleviate the boring silence as seethed in my cell, latching onto my anger like a life preserver. I can’t wallow in my failures and regrets like a child, I have to look at my goal and try harder than before to reach it. Unlike my time before this prison, I don’t have any ponies I can rely on for help. I doubt any of the other prisoners would be willing to overlook our history, and it would be a fool’s dream to hope that the Harmony League could actually see to reason. I’m such an Idiot. Zephyr was a gift sent from a higher power, and I acted too quickly without an actual plan. I was too desperate and I acted like an irrational moron. Every day I have to fight off the urge to rip the bars off my window and just walk out of this prison because I can’t risk letting any of them know about my true capabilities. Especially Nightmare Moon. She truly earned the moniker of World’s Greatest Detective on this strange parody of Earth. I still remember how terrified I was the first time I met her in the flesh. After my interrogation with Matter Horn had wrapped up, I left the station without any issues, not counting the dirty look Commissioner Bon-Bon threw me when I asked for my satchel back. Aside from that minor inconvenience, everything had gone incredibly well for me. The rest of the Power Ponies were busy with their own private lives at the moment, so I was only able to speak with Matter Horn and briefly interact with Fili-Second for less than a second. As I walked out of the precinct, prepared to fly off back to work, a flash of pink and white raced past me as I felt something hit my helmet. Taken by surprise, I shot up into the air fearing that my battle with the Dazzlings had somehow begun a new. My rational thoughts soon drove those worries away as the sound of fluttering paper licked my ears. A quick inspection revealed a card that was attached to my helmet by a small refrigerator magnet of Fill-Second’s pink arrow logo. The card was a personalized gift that had a business card for a boutique belonging to Rarity Belle and a note that read, “Sorry for beating you up while we were hypnotized. -F.S.” The business card, meanwhile, only had a name, address, and offered repairs to costumes and clothes for heroes and civilians alike. A quick glance at my cape told me why Fili-Second thought the business card was a good gift. Even ignoring the giant scorched hole in my cape, the rest of my costume had clearly seen better days. Putting a dirty costume in a time capsule buried in the forest is not a good way to keep clothes fresh and clean. My cape was covered in folds and wrinkles that refused to fall back into place, dirt covered my boots in a noticeable layer of dust and mud, and my helmet was certainly overdue for a polish. I had gone four months without cleaning in, since I didn’t know how to do it other than going into the lake with it, and it was starting to show. It didn’t smell yet of course, the measure by which most humans judge how clean their clothes are, but it would only be a matter of time, especially with what happened next. I placed them both in my satchel before flying back to the Everfree Forest, but not before I shook off the pegasi that were trying to follow me by taking a detour through the sewers. It was a miserable experience, floating through smells that turn my stomach whenever I think back on them. Using my cape as a makeshift filter, I was able to feel the metal around me and find the marehole cover that was closest to the road out of Trot City. Disgusted by the indescribable horror that clung to my nostrils, I flew towards my Polaris Palace to deal with the terrible smell. I was able to block most of it from my memory, but a faint odor still lingers somewhere in my mind. I did my best to wash off the horrible smell by “washing” off in a lake near the Polaris Palace. I wouldn’t be able to lock away my costume in the capsule again for fear of mold, so I dove into the abandoned mines of my lair to hang it up to dry. Moving through the dusty mines and the intangible stones, I floated into the Polaris Palace and waited for the sensors in the enchantments to detect my presence. I was still cloaked in darkness as I walked past the threshold of the entrance, and was mildly surprised and annoyed by the enchanted rods. Floating closer to them, I tried to wave my hand closer to them when I was suddenly blinded by intense light. Letting loose a few colorful words, I floated back down to the floor as as my vision slowly returned. A chill ran down my spine, giving me only a moment of warning before feminine voice spoke behind me. “Greetings, Magneto.” Taken surprise for, I believe, the fourth time in a single day I acted on instinct and leapt away from the voice. Turning to look at the intruder, I saw the mare that struck fear in the hearts of criminals with only a glance. The dark draconic wings that had helped her hide in the shadows parted to reveal her full glory. Nightmare Moon was a unicorn clad entirely in what looked like black leather. A pair of white soulless eyes stared up at me as she emerged from the darkness, revealing the cosmos that clung to her head like hair. The crescent moon on her lapis colored belt matched the several that accented her design, breaking up the black mass that wrapped around her body. Finally, my eyes were drawn to the slender blue horn that pierced the top of her mask, glowing with arcane power as the lights in my lair began to dim. I was frozen in place, either by shock or by her magic, unable to even say a word as she strode out of the darkness. Too dumfounded for basic speech, I tried to say the first words that came to my mind, which she blatantly interrupted before I could even speak a syllable. “The foot print you left behind at your fight with the Power Ponies reveled trace amounts of coal dust and there were several pine needles that clung to Fill-Second’s costume. Using witness testimony, I was also able to deduce that your flight path led to the Everfree Forest. It was easy to narrow down your location after that,“ she explained as if it were a simple math problem. I stuttered like a moron as she casually glanced around my Polaris Palace. Sheets of metal from the dump and random car parts littered the floor, filling in the spaces between my shabby attempts to decorate the bare stone walls. It felt like she was a parent judging a child for keeping a messy room, waiting in silence as my mind conjured a thousand thoughts. Breaking free of the nervous tension that gripped me, I attempted to ask her a question. “Why are you here?” “I was informed that you’ve met with Matter Horn and rejected her first proposal. While she is willing to stop at that price, I am not,” she said, pulling out a slip of paper from the belt that broke up her black costume. “This is my offer. Hand over the enchantment and I’ll leave without another word.” I stood there quietly as I looked at the check in my hands. I had rarely seen a million of anything fully written out. Back on Earth, lotteries that offered millions of dollars would always shorten it to something like 1.7 MIL. It wasn’t an astounding number because it seemed so small in a passing thought. But to see all of it written down, it was something else entirely. I hate to admit it, but there was a hint of reluctance in my movements as I handed the check back to her. “Thank you, but my answer is still the same. I’m not quitting just because of a few zeroes.” She took back the note while giving me a soft glare that scrutinized every muscle and wrinkle. I could feel her ripping me apart and reassembling me in her mind, fitting into the strange puzzle that only made sense to her. “Be careful out there,” she ordered as she melted into the shadows below her feet. I had expected a lot more from my first meeting with this world’s Batman, but it seemed like I was only a pit-stop for the sleepless mare. Though, considering how little Batman interacted with others, her quick Irish goodbye suited her well as the great detective’s counterpart. She also knew the greatest ways to unnerve others by just being herself, as evident by the “gift” she left on my swivel chair. Resting on the seat cushion was a small plastic card with a small drawing of my helmet acting in place of a photo, my name, a checkmark next to a box that was for enchantment, and my actual name. It was an ID card for the Harmony League, one that somehow had a name that they shouldn’t have known. I looked away from the card to stare at the shadows that crawled down the stone wall of my lair, feeling a sense of dread as I tucked the card away and left the room. I didn’t trust the Polaris Palace any longer. > Chapter 17. World Building. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I’ve found another similarity between Terra and Earth today. If Earth films have taught me anything, it’s that group therapy is just as effective on Terra as they are on Earth, in the sense that they don’t work at all. I had to sit in a circle of morons discuss their problems for nearly four hours. I believe that therapy could be helpful to people who really needed it, but I was fine without it. I didn’t need their help and I certainly didn’t want it either. I knew what was wrong with me, and I know none of them could fix it. My problem is that I’m trapped on an alien world full of these living parodies of humans that try to act like everything is normal here. Every single day I am reminded of the differences that keep our worlds apart, the clear clashing of cultures that mocks me with the unfairness of my life. Any advice they offered was just to try starting a new life or moving on from my past. It took a great deal of effort not to strangle the mare that had suggested that. I don’t see why they bother trying to reform villains here. As far as I’m aware, Zephyr is the only one who’s actually put any thought into changing his fate. The other villains in this world are too hard set in their ideologies and desires to even think of reforming. And, while some of these villains do have slightly sympathetic origins and beliefs, most of them are evil just for the sake of being a nuisance to society. One such annoyance was High-Heel, otherwise known as Fleur De-Lis. She was an exceptionally tall unicorn mare, dwarfing even amazons like Day Breaker herself. From what I can understand about her origin, she was a struggling actress who was possessed by a broken enchantment that nearly caused her to go on a colorful killing spree. After she was freed of the enchantment’s control and returned to society, she was raised up in the media as a hero in her own right thanks to the hard work of her lawyers and agents. But, fame is fleeting, and eventually ponies began to move on to newer and more interesting things. Deciding to reclaim her five minutes of fame, she donned a ridiculous costume in the hopes of convincing others she was being controlled once more. Unfortunately for her, the courts didn’t believe that her second crime spree could be placed under the Nightmare act, and she was sent to prison. After escaping from the revolving doors that invite their immediate escape, High Heel turned to a life of crime to reclaim some modicum of fame. Though, I personally thought that she was just crazy and left it at that. Even before she shared it with the group, I knew what her background was, and I had even fought against her not too long after I received my membership for the Harmony League. I knew more about any of them than they could ever know about me thanks to a gossiping seamstress in Trot City. The tight-lipped mare that ran the hero centric boutique was a great source of knowledge when I fully devoted myself to becoming a hero. Two days after Nightmare Moon broke into my lair, I flew back to Trot City under the cover of night to a carousel themed building. I had called ahead on a payphone earlier, using the alias of Cuddle Fish once again, to inquire about the shop’s hours and costs. I wasn’t too keen on the idea of entrusting even a scrap of cloth of my costume with someone, but disgusting smells called for desperate measures. Worst case scenario, I left without my cape and I’d buy a book on cleaning armor later. Best case scenario, I would have a clean costume for a little under 200 bits. Exploring the twin’s old lair had revealed a small untouched fortune hidden below the panels of their floor, which I was able to use to pay Miss Belle later. It was a bit difficult getting to her shop, after all, bright reds and purples weren’t colors that went unnoticed by a wandering eye. But, the black blanket I took from my room and the pair of fake pegasus wings from an old Nightmare Night costume allowed me to be overlooked by a few tired pegasi. Apparently, this world has no concept of appropriation, be it in color, culture, or physical traits. Subtle hints of racism and segregation litter their average daily lives, but no one, not even the pegasi or unicorns, would raise an eye brow as another race using their physical traits as costume pieces. Still, not even my own conscience stopped me from using a questionably racist costume piece to my advantage. As I slowly descended to the designated landing areas for pegasi, making sure to move the wire in my wings to simulate life, I looked over at the boutique that I had called earlier. Nothing about the building looked as I thought it would. Since her business card had said she worked with hero costumes, I assumed her shop would have looked something more like a comic book store with a display case full of generic skin-tight suits. Instead, the carousel like building had several display cases showing off dresses and suits that looked like parodies of Earth designs. Most of the dresses were black and white with a few exceptions, while the suits were usually covered in frills or floral patterns that made me want to vomit. The dresses themselves were rather eye-catching to me, but every suit and apparel set for stallions made me want to either laugh or shudder at their bright colors and “unique” choices. With a new feeling of reluctance laying over my shoulders, I gently pushed open the door and made my way inside. The shop itself was as eye catching as the clothes on display, for better or worse. The shop owner heard me enter her store and quickly made her way to the counter as I withdrew the makeshift hood that covered my helmet. She was a unicorn with skin whiter than snow, and a purple mane that tickled a faint memory in my mind, something illusive that could never be caught as it danced on the fringes of my thoughts. Even now, when I think about her, some odd feeling of familiarity plays on my mind. It was enchanting back then, but now I feel as if it’s vexing, like something is taunting me with a secret I can’t hold. At the time, I simply shoved past those odd feelings and fully removed the blanket and fake wings as Rarity greeted me. “Good evening, Mr. Magneto, I must say, it’s quite surprising to see you here tonight. “Oh please, Mr. Magneto was my father. Call me Magneto,” I tried to joke. Just like my other pitiful attempts at humor, it flew right over the mares head as she accepted the ‘truth’. “Very well, my lord, I must say that I’m absolutely delighted to be working with you, darling.” “‘My lord?’” I parroted. “Yes? I’m sorry, do you not like formalities?” “I’ve never been called a ‘lord’ before,” I said. I had heard that term a few times on television at Camp Everfree, and it was obvious that ‘my lord’ was a stand in for the human phrase, ‘my lady’. It was another strange parody that rubbed me in an uncomfortable way. “So, is it true that you can fix hero costumes, Mrs. Belle?” “Call me, Rarity, dear, and of course I can. I trust that Fili-Second delivered my card?” “I wouldn’t have known otherwise. Your store doesn’t really scream ‘super hero costume repair,’” I said, waving a hand around the room as I removed my cape. “Well that’s the point, dear. It would be bad for business if villains and other dastardly ponies came by. By the way, if you do decide to come back, I would appreciate it if you weren’t wearing your costume, dear.” “Right, is there a secret entrance, or,” I trailed off, hoping she could finish my thought for me. “The front door is fine, dear. I just ask that you not wear something as eye-catching as that. Why don’t you take off your helmet, it must be awfully stuffy under that, dear.” “I’m fine. Besides, it’s to protect my secret identity.” “Well, there is such a thing as customer confidentiality. I don’t tell anypony about who comes in, and I make it a rule not act unprofessionally in front of clients, even if I am a fan of their work.” Despite her assurances, I still felt uneasy about the idea of taking off my helmet. It was already enough that Timber and Nightmare Moon knew about my secret identity, I wasn’t about to trust a mare that I had just met. “I’m sorry, I just don’t feel too comfortable sharing my identity with anypony,” I explained. “Aww, do I look like a mare who would gossip?” “It’s nothing personal, I just don’t like taking it off.”
 “Well, if you’re that adamant to keep it on then I suppose I can’t argue ay longer. Still, I do hope the next time you come inside you won’t wear your costume. The last thing I need is any rumors about the newest hero in Trot City coming to my little shop.” “Do all heroes here just walk in without their costumes?” “Of course,” she said while she examined the gaping hole in my cape. “Goodness, Zapp certainly knows how to ruin clothes. I swear, I need to fix her gloves so many times that I’ve memorized the length of each digit by now. Still, I must say that I adore what you’ve done with this costume, darling, absolutely gorgeous.” “I actually didn’t make it.” “Well, if you didn’t, then may I ask who did?” “It’s a long story.” “Luckily for you, I do so enjoy a good story, especially long ones.” “Well, by long, I meant boring,” I tried to deflect. “A stallion of secrets, I see. Fine, keep them to yourself for now, but just know that I love every type of story, and you seem to have a very interesting one. So, how have you been since the siren incident, dear? It must have been awfully painful.” I took a seat as Rarity summoned a box of threads, comparing each shade of purple to the one on my cape to find a nice match. “Well, you know what they say. ‘What doesn’t kill me only makes me stronger’.” “I actually haven’t heard of that saying.” Of course, she hadn’t. “It’s a saying from back home,” I dismissed. “I’m alright. Nothing some bed rest and soup can’t fix. By the way, has there been any news on the Power Ponies. I…” I lingered on that thought, debating whether or not sharing it would earn me the seamstress’ ire. It was all in self-defense, of course, but I did drop a car on one of them. “I may have gone a bit far with one or two of them.” “They’re all fine, dear, rest assured. Why, Marevelous was in here just yesterday getting her suit stitched up. I also heard that you met with Matter Horn at the Ponice station. Didn’t you speak with her about the others?” “I didn’t get the chance to,” I replied, stripping off my boots and gloves and placing them on the counter. “I should have asked over the phone, but how much would it cost for a full costume wash?” “It should be charged to the Harmony League if you brought your card, dear,” she answered. I made a move to pull out my Harmony League card but stopped as an idle thought struck me. “How did you know I had a card?” “Intuition, dear. Since Matter Horn spoke with you, I assumed that she offered you a recruitment for the League. So, if you have your card o you, I’d be happy to charge this to the Harmony League.” Thinking it over, I nodded my head in silent agreement as I pulled out my Id, making sure to cover my name with my thumb while the seamstress attempted to pluck it out of my grasp. When I refused to let go, she cleared her throat politely and glanced down at the card. “Dear, would you mind letting it go?” “I would, but I don’t eat you to see my name. Secret identity, and all that.” “You really are new to this, aren’t you? The name on your card should be enchanted so that only you can see it, dear. It wouldn’t do good for any hero if some cretin could look at your id and just find out your identity, now would it?” Not even five minutes in her shop and I had learned more about the industry than I intended to. “Sorry,” I apologized, earning a light chuckle from the mare as she swiped it through a card reader. I had seen a few of those machines littered about libraries and other stores, but I had never heard of any creature in Terra owning a debit or credit card. Later, I found out about how some heroes would use their ID’s at those stores for work expenses, though I fail to see how a pastry shop could be considered a work expense. “If you’re ever needed for a mission, that image will start to vibrate and direct you to where you’re needed most,” she told me, handing back the card as she placed my gloves and boots next to my cape with her magic. “You can use the changing room behind the counter, dear. Did you bring a set of spare clothes?” “I did. Thank you, ma’am,” I answered, making my way to the aforementioned changing room and drawing the curtains behind me. I already had a light tan shirt and black pants in my satchel, along with a pair of steel tipped boots that I was able to find in the camp’s old lost and found. It wasn’t enough metal to fly me back, and without my costume I’d need to call a taxi service and see how much it would cost to drive me back to Camp Everfree. If only Gloriosa hadn’t been so stingy on gas, then I could have just driven to Rarity’s shop instead. I am a bit proud of what I ended up doing to her truck later on. Even now, I can’t help but giggle at the memory of turning it into a firework. Anyway, after changing out of my costume and once more securing the helmet to my head, I walked out of the changing room and handed them to Rarity. “Are you certain that you won’t take off that helmet, dear? It must be dreadfully awful for your hair.” “I prefer keeping my identity a secret, Mrs. Belle.” “I can assure you, I wouldn’t tell a soul.” “Can your promise prevent telepaths from reading your mind?” I argued, fixing the buttons on my cuffs as Rarity gave me an odd look. “Where exactly are you from, dear?” “Smallville,” I replied jokingly, which failed to come across to the alien mare. “I can’t say I’m familiar with Smallville. It must be far away considering that you don’t know about the ban on telepath enchantments.” “Really? Why is that?” “Because the first, and last, telepath was confined to an institute before all telepathic enchantments were hunted down.” “Oh? I hadn’t heard of that,” I commented idly, suppressing my sheer surprise at her claim. As far as I was aware, Telepathy was one of the original Magneto’s only weaknesses. Aside from being overpowered by an army of super powered individuals, nothing could harm the mutant supremest. “Well, I suppose not many ponies outside of the Harmony League know that story. I only know because most of my clients are from the League. But I thought everypony knew about enchanted telepathy being illegal.” “Not much happens in Smallville. I doubt anypony,” I always hated saying that word, “even knew how to spell ‘telepathy’ let alone what it was. So, what happened to the telepath?”
 “The story goes that there was once a talented mare named Sunset Shimmer, a unicorn who graduated from the Faust Home for Gifted Ponies. Professor Shimmer was a prodigy in the field of enchantments, and she created an enchantment that would allow ponies to take a peek into somepony else’s mind. Police interrogations would last only a second, the crime rate would fall drastically.” “That’s seems like an invasion of privacy, though,” I hesitantly remarked. “Others argued that too. Still, you can’t deny the possible benefits of telepathy. Sadly, even if everypony agreed that it could be useful, there was an unforeseen issue with the enchantments she made. Reading a pony’s mind isn’t like reading a book. It’s… Well, my friend could describe it better, but from what I understand, Professor Shimmer carried a great number of other personalities inside her head when looking into somepony’s mind. “It started out small, picking up habits like snapping her fingers more to accentuate her point, rolling a shoulder, rubbing her hands together. Then it moved on to new appetites, different tastes in fashion, odd preferences for comfort. Soon, it became too much for the poor dear, and she ended up hosting too many opposing memories and thoughts inside her mind. “Since then, she’s been treated by the best of doctors in the hopes of making her thoughts more coherent. Of course, only a few select ponies, such as myself, are privy to this information, so please make sure to keep this hush hush, would you?” “Of course, ma’am,” I replied as I thought over her tale. My only exploitable weakness, locked away in a facility where she could never peer into my mind. It was sad to think about the nightmares that mare had to suffer, sharing a mind with dozens, perhaps hundreds of others as she drowns in a sea of voices. Still, despite feeling pity for the mare, I couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved at the thought. Even now, as I write this, I count my small blessings while lamenting her suffering. If she or anyone had found a way around the terrible side-effects of this world’s telepathy, then I would likely never see the light of day again. I’d be locked away in a prison made of glass and plastic, buried below Terra’s crust as the world moved on without me. And unlike the original Magneto, I wouldn’t have any allies outside to help me escape my incarceration. I burnt every bridge I had with the heroes, and I doubt any of them would help me, or give me a second cha Rarity was one of my most helpful allies back then. After already sharing so much with me, she imparted one last piece of crucial knowledge that would help me later on. As I accepted the piece of paper that confirmed my costume number, (She gave me an odd look for chuckling at 420) I looked at the date to confirm when it would be ready. “So, I’ll come back two nights from now, and it’ll be all set?” “Yes, but if you’re called to action before then, I’m sure I can wrap it up more quickly.” “Called to action? How is the Harmony League supposed to call me?” It was a reasonable question in my opinion. My idea of a superhero was someone who sat in on a rooftop with a police dispatch radio, flipping through frequencies as they waited for something exciting to catch their attention. In hindsight, it was a really stupid thought back then. Just as she had done so frequently that night, Rarity gave me another strange look as she shook her head and chuckled. “I’m shouldn’t be surprised. Take out your card again,” she instructed. Once I did so, she pointed at the small emblem of my helmet, tapping on the picture as she explained the significance of my card. “Among the many innovations made from Professor Shimmer’s experiments with telepathy, she created an artificial sentient being that could analyze police reports and predict possibilities. If the Harmony Table, as most of them call it, thinks you’re well suited for a mission then this image will light up and Harmony will begin to glow and she’ll speak with you. “Harmony is a Hero’s best friend, as they say. Why, if it weren’t for her then this world would have been set ablaze a long time ago.” “So, everyponny just waits for ‘Harmony’ to tell them where to go?” I asked as I rubbed my thumb against the image. “Oh, yes, dear. Why, could you imagine what would have happened if, say, somepony like Day Breaker had been the one to respond to the Siren’s threat? I doubt you and I would be having this lovely chat if that were the case, dear.” I felt my stomach drop at that thought. I had barely held my own against the Power Ponies, and that was because they were uncoordinated and sloppy thanks to the Sirens. Even now, at the peak of my powers, I can’t imagine fighting Day Breaker. The only time I had come close to that was in the Everfree Forest some time before my incarceration, and even then, I had to run away to survive. Looking back on it, the table gave me everything I needed to escape Day Breaker back then. If that were truly the case, then that would mean the table would have known about me before anyone else. If so, did it ‘know’ that I would become an outcast for my morals? After all, I wouldn’t have been at the museum if it weren’t for the table. Questions for another time, I suppose. With that, I thanked the mare and left the building, all the while thinking about my new life as I slipped my helmet inside my satchel and walked towards a payphone. I didn’t know it at the time, but being a “hero” was much different than what the comics and movies back in my world would have led me to believe. Matter Horn may not have been right about everything, but she was certainly on the right track when she warned me that heroism wouldn't be as glamorous as I imagined it would. > Chapter 18. Give a Girl the Right Shoes and She Can Conquer The World. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT! ZEPHYR IS FREE! I don’t know who did it, but he’s gone, and they took High Heel with them as well. High Heel? Really? HIGH HEEL?! High Heel was an adrenaline junkie and an egotistical narcissistic actress who commits crimes to get in front of a camera! I’ll admit, she’s a powerful adversary, BUT HIGH HEEL? What in the world could they need her for? A few other inmates managed to escape in the chaos, unsurprisingly, but nobody bothered to tell me. They’re all faceless nobodies anyway, idiots who think that stealing candy from a baby is some grand hurdle to leap over. I truly don’t understand this world. Psychotic criminals and murderers are in the same prison as morons like Calendar Criminal or Condiment Queen. They belong in an asylum, not a prison next to sadistic villains and monsters. It’s just one of the many flaws in this system that I need to fix when I break free. Sooner or later I’ll have my opportunity. Either the heroes will come to understand my philosophy, which is unlikely, or the villains will take my helmet from the vault and realize they can’t use it. As far as everyone here is aware, my powers come from a special enchantment, one that only I can use. They’ll need me, and I’ll finally break free and take down Nightmare Moon. Out of all the ponies out there, she’s the biggest threat to my plans. I won’t be able to use the same tricks I did when we first came to blows, and I doubt she’s been idly sitting on a yacht this whole time. My only advantage against her as of now is the truth of my abilities, other than that I have little that I can use against her. I only know that Telepathy and non-metal based attacks are a weakness, but where there is one there are bound to be others. I can trust that Nightmare Moon has already prepared for another fight with me, just as Matter Horn and the others prepared to fight the Sirens again. Speaking of those insufferable terrors in teenage bodies, one of the sisters also managed to join the breakout. Fucking Sonata. Security has been reinforced, a few undesirable faces have been let go, (Thank God) and I don’t have to hear any more shoe related humor for a while. At least until High Heel is inevitably captured again. High Heel was marginally bearable thanks to her new medication, so hopefully she’ll be placed on it again when she returns. While Pegasi, and Mutants I suppose, could stay at high altitudes for long periods of time, the more land-based creatures didn’t fare well in the thin altitude. It’s also why even flight capable heroes rarely go above a certain altitude for too long, a concern that I ignored in favor of flying above the low gliding pegasi and birds, and something that High Heel wasn’t worried about either. Even if I hate her and find her absolutely annoying, I do pity her somewhat. Perhaps if I had known about her condition then I could have done something different in our first encounter. I remember it happened only a day after Rarity returned my costume. I was hard at work, scrubbing toilets and doing other menial labor at Camp Everfree. I was essentially the Camps errand boy. Even if I didn’t know how to do it, I learned it. It wasn’t easy, and it certainly wasn’t enjoyable, but it was life. I had fallen into a mindless motion, drifting into idle fantasies until I felt something in my pocket. A vibrating buzz from my pants tickled a faint sense of familiarity in my mind. My hand flew to my side, patting my leg down hoping to find a cellphone, only to be disappointed that it was my membership to the Harmony League. I threw a glance at my surroundings, confirming that I was completely alone before I stared at the shaking card. Ann experimental touch on the glowing emblem “answered” the call to arms and a lifeless voice spoke to me. “Magneto, your assistance is required at 12th and Mane Street. High Heel has broken into the Trot City bank and is evading authorities. Please leave immediately.” As quickly as it came, the voice left as the card became inert. I waited a for a moment, shaking the card to see if it had suddenly turned off. I expected Harmony to be a bit more descriptive, perhaps tell me who High Heel was or what I should do. I was a fool for hoping that Harmony would be any more helpful. I slipped away from the camp thanks to Timber, excusing myself for a nature walk as I threw on my costume and raced off to Trot City. Thanks to my practice, I was able to cut down my fifteen-minute flight to roughly seven, of course that small achievement didn’t mean much to the police or anyone else. To them, I was already well over seven minutes late. I was easily able to spot High-Heel since she dwarfed most buildings. It was hard to make out any details because of the ruby colored bubble that surrounded her. There were also several pegasi officers trying to break through the rose-colored barrier that surrounded her, further obscuring her as I surveyed the scene. Officers, a mix of unicorns and earth ponies, blockaded the street and kept civilians away from the mad mare. Deciding to approach this in a professional manner, I glided down to the police to see if they could help at all with the situation. The crowd noticed me before the police, and several officers quickly raised their weapons but holstered them as I floated to a familiar cream-colored mare with two toned hair. “Afternoon, Commissioner Bon-Bon.” “Why aren’t you up there, fighting her?” The commissioner demanded. “Because I want to know what I’m dealing with. Harmony didn’t give me may pointers for dealing with High-Heel.” “You fly up there, and you hit her really hard or tie her up. What else do you need to know?” “What about weaknesses? Anything that could give me the edge?” I pressed. “You think we’d need you if we knew?” She shot back. She was even less helpful than Harmony. I had hoped that the older mare would offer some thoughtful insight, but as I would come to learn, these ponies were better as strategical fodder and healers than actual thinkers. “Fine. Have the officers withdraw, I need room up there,” I ordered, not allowing her to get in a word edgewise as I flew up to confront the snow skinned mare. The pegasi officers were hesitant to back away, but eventually returned to the street as I passed by them. The first visible layer of High-Heel’s shield fell, still holding up the second less visible layer to protect herself from any officers hoping for a lucky shot. High Heel was a white colored mare with bright pink hair, with a horn that was dyed a bright shade of red that matched most of her costume. I had heard of certain actors painting their horns to be unique, but I hadn’t seen it in person until then. The crime against cosmetics was crowned by a brass headpiece that reminded me of the Scarlet Witch’s crown. Her arms and legs were covered with black latex and white laces, ending in baby blue gloves and heels respectively. Overall, she looked like someone who never strayed from the first draft of their costume design. “I know stallions take a while to get ready, but I thought you’d be a bit more professional,” she mocked. “I didn’t know you were in such a rush to get your a-er-Butt kicked,” I retorted. I had to be very careful to not say the word “Ass” since, apparently, Donkeys were also sentient humanoid creatures in this world. While no one really raised an eyebrow at the racist remark, I still felt uncomfortable using it in a degrading way. “Big talk for a pony who doesn’t have a leg to stand on,” High Heel quipped. The first of many terrible puns. “Cute. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” I offered. “Nothing fun is ever easy.” Unlike my original counterpart, I never enjoyed attacking from a distance. I preferred to use my hands, throwing punches and feeling my fists ram against flesh as I threw punch after punch. There weren’t any magnetic costume pieces on her, and the sack in her hands was only filled with hard cold cash, no bars of gold or even a coin I could manipulate. So, in what was possibly one of my worst decisions, I attempted to throw a punch at the mare. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you!” The second shield dropped before I could even touch it, and her fist struck me in the center of my chest. A flurry of motion followed after that as I felt blow after blow strike my torso until she finally punched me in my throat. Chocking on the lack of air, I was unprepared for her horn to suddenly ignite and I was shot in the face with a blinding light. I was clearly outmatched in hand to hand. Why an actress from the sixties would ever need to learn karate is beyond me, but that’s besides the point. “Do you really want to go, toe-to-toe with me?” She teased as her magic wrapped around my legs and threw me through the nearby window of an empty. “Once I beat you, I’ll be a shoe in for the Council of Chaos,” she gloated. I dodged a blast of energy that ripped through the air, using the metal cabinet nearby as a shield while I grabbed anything else that was made of metal in the office. A typewriter, an ash tray, and several other metal decorations and appliances flew to my side as I began throwing them at the mare, who had raised both layers of her shield once more to protect herself. As the metal nuisances distracted her above, I flew down to the street and lifted a Marehole cover to bash it into her heels. The heavy metal disk tore through her right heel, sapping in like a twig as she precariously balanced on the other heel. She blindly swung her leg around before the heel regenerated and shot into the ground next to me, narrowly missing my side as it sunk into the asphalt under my feet. The other heel quickly flew forward to kick me down the street like a can, knocking me off my feet as I flew back into the front widow of a police cruiser. Hissing in pain, I gingerly lifted myself from the car’s hood, lightly touching one of the shards of glass that lodged themselves into my back. I shouted an obscenity as I nudged the glass, feeling it dig into my skin as my fingers brushed against it. Pushing past the pain that gnawed away at my spine, I lifted the police car above me and used it as a club to bash through both her heels at the same time, breaking the thin pair of blue pillars easily as a scream cut through the air. High Heel began free-falling, plummeting to the earth as I raced up to catch her. After accidentally overshooting the mare, I quickly turned back to fly after her before her heels extended again and started flailing about wildly, managing to strike me in the head and knocking me away as she rocketed to the pavement. With death approaching just seconds away, she teleported at the last moment and reappeared below me, safety landing on her feet as she shot off another terrible pun. “I’m always a step ahead, Magneto!” Regaining some semblance of clarity, I leveled myself out for only a moment before a long heel rammed into my abdomen, knocking the wind out of me as she rose back to the sky. “Is this the best the Harmony League has to offer? I had more trouble at boot camp than I’m having with you. Why, this is a walk in the park for me.” A sudden kick to my ribs threw me back to the ground, crashing through a random window and into someone’s shop. Before I could pull myself back up, a rose-colored aura surrounded me and violently pulled me out of the apartment and brought me face to face with High Heel once more. “Your de-feet will be sole crushing.” I suddenly became very familiar with pavement as I was tossed back down and crashed into a police car. A muffled voice shouted something near my ears, and death’s doorstep suddenly grew farther away as a teal aura washed over me. The blissful feeling of a gentle winter night kissing my skin was soon replaced by indescribable agony as bones mended back into place and skin regrew to cover my new and reopened scars. I opened my mouth to scream, to cry out in horrible pain, but a piece of leather was forcefully shoved into my mouth, cutting off my cries as fresh tears rolled down my eyes. As I would find out later, police in this world were trained to provide support to heroes on the field, usually giving cover fire or acting as healers whenever a hero withdrew for a moment. Healing magic however, was a horrible method to heal wounds. It was meat for quick fixes and a boost of adrenaline to win a fight, it didn’t hold your hand or comfort you in any way. Finally spitting out the strap of leather, I gasped for breath as the unicorn officer healing me backed away. A firm hand planted on my shoulder tore me away from whatever small comfort my ragged breathing could supply as the head officer began yelling at me to go back and fight. While the officers had been healing me, several pegasi were acting as a distraction to hold off High Heel. It was oddly funny that the police were actually useful in a world full of superheroes, something I couldn’t find amusing back then considering that I was coughing up a fair amount of blood. I was too far in shock to even question the officer’s demand, and simply flew off to follow her order. Rocketing through the air like a missile, I slammed into High Heel’s shield, acting off of my animalistic instincts as I repeatedly struck her shield with my fists. The adrenaline coursing through my veins didn’t allow me a moment of concise thought as I reached down with my magic and pulled up a random car to smash into her shield, one that was thankfully empty. I attacked the amalgamation of the Scarlet Witch and Stilt-man, turning the car to scrap as I repeatedly threw it against her shield. Glass, rubber, and whatever else that wasn’t metal rained down onto the streets as each thread of metal was slammed against her shield until she finally lowered it and teleported away. High off of my own adrenaline, I raced after her and grabbed onto one of her extended heels, lifting it and her leg above her head until she lost her balance. Her teleportation spell ended up dragging me along with her, brining both of us the ground as I pulled one the end of her heel before it retracted. A shrill shriek of pain rang out in the air as I looked back at the villainous mare. She openly sobbed as she held the limp limb, clutching her dislocated leg while officers raced over to both heal and arrest her. A nullstone ring was slipped onto her horn as her screams grew louder, feeling new waves of pain roll over her thanks to the officer’s healing spell. Feeling my heart rate slow down, I looked at the small amount of damage we caused to the city. My blood painted one of the police cars, and a trail of my blood took me on a tour of my fight with her. My attention was drawn back to High Heel as she hobbled on her heeled leg, stifling a sob as the police escorted her into the back of a car after taking off her high heels. Just like the forgotten actress, I was struggling to hold onto what little recognition I had after fighting the Power Ponies. And thanks to her, I had to admit something that I liked to lie to myself about. My first victory against the Power Ponies was a fluke, a chance of luck because three ponies inexperienced with their power set used them like toys. Even after four months of training and preparing, I was barely ready to tackle the threats that plagued Trot City. On a lighter note, I at least learned a few things from my fight with High Heel, and I was going to learn a lot more in the days that followed my tussle with the shoe themed villain. > Chapter 19. You Must be This Tall to Save The World. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- If there was one mare that’d I’d be happy Maresterio I hate that I can’t lord it over her Let it never be said that I’m unwilling to make sacrifices for these ponies. Even if I don’t like most of them, I have no reason to make them suffer for petty reasons. Though, I also must admit that the temptation is sometimes too great for me to ignore. Maresterio has the unique ability to annoy me in new ways every day. I can only imagine how she would react if she knew the truth about her “arch-nemesis”. I can’t help but scoff at that. Unlike her Earth comic counterpart, Maresterio isn’t Spider-Mare’s enemy. No, instead she’s one of the many rouges in a certain alicorn’s gallery. There are two genuine alicorns and two pseudo alicorns, similar to how Superman and Supergirl were Kryptonians and Superboy and Bizarro were technical Kryptonians. Day Breaker and Cupid Arrow are Alicorns, though I’m not sure if they’re aliens or a very rare race of ponies. Nightmare Moon was, from what I can assume, a unicorn with a false pair of dragon wings who masqueraded as a dark alicorn of the night. Though the more foolish of ponies speculated that she was an actual demon, something that even I doubted. Finally, Maresterio’s nemesis was the lesser known of the four alicorns; The Mysterious Mare-Do-Well. I worked closely with the “mare” on my second call to arms. I had hoped to train myself a bit more to prepare for my next mission, but another call from the card came only a day after my fight with High Heel. Lingering guilt had stolen any sleep I could get the night before, so I was tired, in pain, and angry, both at myself and the world in general. I had felt guilty about dislocating High Heel’s leg, something I don’t feel any more after thinking it over. After all, she tried to kill me by throwing me around like a rag-doll, all I did was make sure that I survived. Of course, not everyone agreed with the methods I used. I overheard several campers talking about it, openly bashing me for being “too graphic”. A fight with a villain isn’t a cartoon for children, it’s real life, it’s news, it gets bloody and messy! I’m sooooo sorry that I bled on camera too much. If I had it my way, I wouldn’t have bled at all! I need to move past this, thinking about it will only give me a headache. The real blight of my day began when Harmony began to vibrate while I was washing dishes. After making sure that I was aloe, I answered the card to listen to the same dull voice that called me the day before. “Magneto, your assistance has been requested by Mare-Do-Well tonight at Six P.M, at the Trot City History Museum. Please be ready to meet with them tonight if you are available.” As quickly as it arrived, Harmony once again left with little fanfare, returning to her inert state as I slipped the carp back into my pocket. I quickly reminded myself of my end goal, to earn their trust and find a way back home, and finished up my tasks for the afternoon. Timber had once again covered for me by helping me come up with a story about my “sisters” coming in from out of town, which gave me the perfect excuse to leave early and wait at the museum at least thirty minutes earlier than I needed to be. Imagine my surprise when Mare-Do-Well arrived an hour later than planned. Unlike Earth, sunrises and sunset were much faster, occurring only over the course of a few minutes rather than the slow rise and descent that they had on my world. The staggering shift from day to night head caught me off guard a few times in the past, but it had simply become another minor inconvenience by that point. Harmony had never specified an actual meeting place, and it was hard to be discreet on a roof while wearing a bright red costume, so I chose to wait in an alley facing the museum across the street. The only thing that kept me from falling asleep on my feet was the smell from the dumpster. Looking back on it, I should have left as soon as the clock rolled past six. But, I still wanted to keep a good appearance with the other heroes, so I waited until the velvet cloaked mare descended the fire escape above me. “Howdy there, partner!” A southern sounding voice called out as boots against metal drew my attention to Mare-Do-Well. The first thing I took note of was the comically sized purple fedora that sat on her head, which matched the different shades of purple that made up her vest, jacket, and other costume pieces. Out of all the costumed heroes and villains I had read about, Mare-Do-Well was one of the few who I couldn’t place as a DC or Marvel based counterpart. Instead, the world seemed to steal inspiration from Darkwing Duck for the mysterious mare, with a dark grey mask that took influence from Deadpool or Spiderman’s comically large white eyes and blank expressions. The other prominent detail that I noticed were the immaculate pair of bright orange wings that hid the small cape that hug around her neck. I had seen a number of large wingspans on Terra, but the velvet vigilante certainly held a place among the mares with the largest pair. Finally, I noticed the towering white horn that shot through the Mare-Do-Well’s forehead, something that clashed with the orange feathers that sprouted from her back. I already knew that High Heel dyed her horn red, so it wasn’t too much of a surprise to me that Mare-Do-Well would dye hers white. “Mare-Do-Well, I presume?” I asked sardonically. “You bethca! Nice ta meet ya, Magnito, it’s a pleasure,” she enthusiastically greeted as she leapt to the ground, thrusting a hand forward with, what I could only assume was, a dopey smile plastered on her face. I gingerly accepted her hand, still slightly bitter about waiting until the sun fell down for her to arrive. “It’s an honor,” I lied. “So, Harmony said you needed me, right? Why is that?” “‘Cause I wanted to meet you,” she replied, dropping her accent before it came back with a light cough. “I mean, cause I need yer help. I could use an extra pair’o eyes, and yer just the stallion I could count on. ‘Sides, Maresterio is covered head ta toe in gold’n other metal, an’ I head ya specialize in magnets an’ stuff. “I need ta nab her quick tonight, otherwise I’ll haf’ta chase her util tomorrow mornin’. Sorry ‘bout bein’ late. I’d woulda been here sooner if it weren’t for somepony,” she lightly growled, seemingly ignoring me for a moment before she lit her horn and summoned a paper bag. “Uh, cupcakes?” She offered, her voice suddenly adopting a more meak tone than previously. Food sounded great and I was practically starving, so I chose not to question the strange mare too much as I scarfed the pastry down. “So, what should we expect tonight?” I asked in between bites. “Uh… Shoot, I had a joke ready fer this. She’ll be uh,” she groaned, before snapping her fingers and abandoning her southern accent again. “A great and powerful headache! Nailed it.” I didn’t know it at the time, but that was the greatest description anyone could ever give for her. Working off of my knowledge of her villainous Marvel counterpart, I took a shot in the dark hoping to look more insightful than I was. “Alright, so an egotistical maniac who likes the sound of their own voice? Ego too big for their fishbowl head?” “Huh, it does look like a fishbowl,” another cough brought back her southern accent. “Y-yeah, ya heard about her?” “Not as much as I would like. So, what’s her M.O.?” “Her moe?” Mare-Do-Well asked, summoning another paper bag and taking out a cupcake of her own. “Her Modus Operandi, what does she want, how does she usually act, why is she here tonight?” I clarified. “Ooooh. Well, I’m pretty sure she’s here for the Alicorn Amulet,” she said, partially lifting her mask to eat her own baked delicacy. The yellow skin on her face didn’t match the color of her horn or wings, and I felt a strange headache as I looked at her additional appendages. “The Alicorn Amulet? What’s that?” “Well, before Eris was making illegal enchantments and experimenting with magic, this stallion named Stygian made a bunch’a evil enchantments. The Alicorn Amulet’s supposed ta give anypony the powers of an alicorn. Earth pony strength, unicorn magic, PEGAUS WINGS!” She excitedly added on the end, flapping the massive walls of feathers that she called wings. “And it’s just on display in the open?” “It’s supposed ta be in… In-ah… Not working.” “You mean inert?” “Yeah, that! Without all’a the rubies in it, it’s a hunk a junk.” “And I assume she has the missing pieces?” “Right on the money,” she winced. I nod I just had to step away from my journal for a moment to bang my head against a wall before I continued writing. If the Alicorn Amulet is as powerful as they said it was, then why would they have it in a museum?! The other heroes should have known that Maresterio acquired the other pieces, so why why such an important job entrusted to Mare-Do-Well? Harmoy originally wanted Mare-Do-Well to solve this on their own, I was only there because she actually knows how to ask Harmony to do something. Something like that belonged in Starswirl’s Vault, not a museum! Hell, I’m surprised that it was only Maresterio who came to steal it. At the time, I didn’t question it because I had no measure for how powerful an alicorn was, and I can only imagine how the world would change if Maresterio became an alicorn. I nodded as I mulled over that fact. “So, we need to catch her and, hopefully, take the jewels she has if she was dumb enough to bring them.” “She totally is.” “Great. Can I assume her entrance will be pretty loud?” “Subtleties’ a foreign concept ta ‘er,” she remarked. And now, as I’m writing, I can’t help but wonder how she managed to steal the gems for the Amulet. I would have to guess that Zephyr helped her somewhere along the line. She probably wanted to take the last piece herself just to say she did it alone. We fell into a short silence after that, staring at the few meandering tourists who came to see the museum lit up. The calm and slightly tense air around us was shattered by a shy voice from Mare-Do-Well. “I uh, I saw your fight with High Heel on the news.” I waited for her to continue, letting the seconds drag on to a full minute before I chose to break their self-imposed silence. “And?” “A-are,” there was another cough, once again summoning the more vocal southern voice. “Are ya alright? It uh, it looked pretty bad out there. I’ve taken my fair share o’ licks, but that look rough.” “It was alright. There were healers there, anyway.” “That’s good. I never needed ta get a quick heal, thank Faust. My curse covers all’a that stuff, so I’m good to go round fer round.” “Lucky.” Once again, we slipped back into a stilted silenced for another minute or so until she decided to break it again. “You also took it pretty far, dude,” she said before Mare-Do-Well’s hand flew up to her mouth and covered it. “S-sorry, it just kinda slipped out, ya know? I don’t mean anything by it, but—” “I get it,” I interrupted. “I went too far, or whatever, and I’ll apologize to the press about it when I get the chance. I didn’t mean to do that, I just,” I stumbled on my words, searching for the right excuse to give. “It was an accident. I panicked and I didn’t know what else to do. I thought I was ready for all of… this, but I’m still learning. I’ll admit, it’s harder than I thought it would be.” “Ain’t that the truth,” she agreed. Stealing a glance at the museum, I decided to ask Mare-Do-Well a question. “What would you have done?” “Pardon?” “What would you have done if you fought High Heel?” “I-uhh-I don’t rightly know.” Typical. Criticize but don’t offer advice. Although, I can’t fault them too much. If anything, they were only a little more experienced than myself back then. With nothing more to say, we both waited quietly for Maresterio to arrive. We thankfully didn’t have to wait long as the lights along the street and on the museum began to flicker. A sheet of low hanging purple fog rolled out from the sewers below, flooding the area in mist as a pillar of smoke rose up. Maresterio’s laugh rag out in the air, accompanied by a chorus of screams and shouts as the late visitors and tourists began to back away. She emerged from the dark cloud, holding the hem of her cape as she gave her speech to the cowering civilians. “Citizens of Trot City, I, the great and powerful Maresterio, have come to desecrate the dire dullness that devastates your daily lives. Applaud in awe and astonishment as the amazing alchemist arrives!” “Oh, I can already tell that I’ll hate this," I griped as I followed Mare-Do-Well out of the alley. “Maresterio! Yer performance is being cut shot!” Mare-Do-Well quipped. “Ah, Mare-Do-Bad, here to make a mess of my marvelous master plan, with the metal manipulator Magneto as your minion. I was't aware you allowed atrociously armored eye-sores to appear alongside you. Have your standards sunk so low that you seduce stallions to stand on the sidelines so they'll sing your subpar praises?” “I would take offense to that if it wasn’t coming from a walking fishbowl,” I countered. I was honestly surprised that no-one made the connection before about her costume. Aside from the noticeable golden breast plates in her armor and the blue gemstones in engraved into her copper gauntlets, she looked almost exactly like Mysterio from my world. “F-fish bowl?! You foul fiend! Your deride will damn you to a deep despair!” “Fish bowl with a dictionary, apparently.” “Well, you look like a used tampon!” She shouted back. In a flurry of motion, she raised up one of her gauntlets and fired a small metal ball at me, which I caught in my magnetic grip on reflex. Sadly, despite it being the oldest trick in the book, I didn’t expect it to be a flash bomb, and I was blinded by an explosion of light alongside Mare-Do-Well. Mare-Do-Well was able to heal our eyes with a simple spell, thankfully, and I was able to see Maresterio disappear in a cloud of purple smoke as four copies of her took her place. The clones dispersed quickly, breaking off into pairs that raced to different entrances into the museum. Something to note about Maresterio is that was that her brand of fake magic could only fool children and aliens, i.e. me. So, as I went to chase down the pair of illusions that a child could easily see through, Mare-Do-Well raced past me and chased after the real target, dragging me along for the ride as a magenta aura grabbed my arm. “Quit foolin’ around, she’s gettin’ away!” Flying past the two intangible clones, Mare-Do-Well pulled me through several winding halls, finally arriving at the exhibit of old heroes and villains that held a mix of replica weapons and costume pieces mixed with genuine relics from before Eris’ time. Maresterio turned back to us, holding the Alicorn Amulet in her hand as she discarded the broken glass case. As she quickly placed the second to last jewel in place, I reached out with my magnetism to rip the artifact out of her hands. Her own telekinesis struggled against my power, turning it into a battle of tug-of-war as Mare-Do-Well ran past me to attack Maresterio. A swift kick to her midsection ruined Maresterio’s concentration, allowing the Amulet to easily sail into my hand as I tore the gauntlets off of her wrists. With both the Amulet and her primary weapons gone, Maresterio was left defenseless as Mare-Do-Well threw a punch to Maresterio’s side. Crumbling to the floor, the egomaniac pressed a hidden button on her chestpiece, causing a pulse of energy to race through the museum and disable the lights. Suddenly, I heard glass shatter as Mare-Do-Well cried out in pain. “Do-Well!” I called out, only to be answered by sound of a freeze gun charging up, something that I was only able to place when a blue beam shot through the darkness and froze the glass cases behind me. Another blast tore through the air as I flew higher, the beam following me without any hinderance thanks to Maresterio’s built in night vision. I ended up flying too high far too quickly, and bashed my head against the ceiling as the freeze ray kissed my feet. Once more, the sound of glass shattering cut through the air, thankfully announcing an end to the freeze ray as an unmasked Maresterio fell to the floor. The lights in the museum began to flicker back on as Mare-Do-Well stood over the seemingly unconscious villain. Releasing a sigh of relief as I rubbed my head, I descended back to the floor with the Amulet still in my hand. “Didn’t you say that the display items were inert?” I asked with a hint of venom. “Well sorry. That’s what the tour guide said when we came ‘ere earlier,” she rebutted. “Tour guide? Did you make me wait over an hour to go on a tour of the museum?” “No, we were jus—” Mare-Do-Well’s sentence was cut short as a blast of ice washed over her mask, bathing her face in a chilling spell as Maresterio rolled away and aimed the weapon at me. The ice beam shot into my shoulder, forcing me to drop the amulet as the block of solid ice began to worm its way closer to my heart. The Amulet was wrapped in a pink aura, flying over to Maresterio’s neck as she placed the finally piece inside, tossing aside the freeze ray as arcane power began to wash over her body. “At last! The astronomical energy of the Alicorn Amulet is mine! Crowds will cheer across the cosmos, cities of creatures will curtsy, and countries will cherish my—” I interrupted her monologue by stealing the necklace back. Frozen shoulder or no, I still had control over magnetism. Before the mare could try and take it back with her levitation, Mare-Do-Well swept Maresterio’s legs and knocked her out with the butt of the freeze ray. “Th-th-that’s wh-wh-what ya-ya get, ya-ya v-villainousss varmint!” She stuttered out. Half an hour later, the police arrived to take away Maresterio as we reported the damages to the officer on duty, which would thankfully be reimbursed by the Harmony League. Once we were done, Mare-Do-Well and I walked away from the crowd and slipped into the cover of night in an alley. “Thanks fer yer help out there, Magneto. Couldn’ta done it without ya.” “Oh, I’m sure you would have found a way. But, I am grateful that you invited me. Now, I need to get back home. I don’t know about you, but I think I need to hit the hay early tonight,” I said, stifling a yawn as I slowly floated off the ground. “Alrighty then. Take care of yerself, Magneto. I’ll call ya if we need help again.” “Sounds good to me,” I agreed, flying out of the alley way as Mare-Do-Well loudly exclaimed, “We did well!” I was about to call back and thank her for the compliment, but a sudden flash of light from below caused me to avert my eyes. After blinking away the stars, I looked down to see three little fillies standing where Mare-Do-Well was supposed to be. A young orange pegasus with abnormally small wings, a white unicorn with a broken horn, and a yellow earth pony who was holding herself up with a pair of crutches each chatted excitedly about the events of the night, recounting our “team-up”, completely oblivious to the fact that I was floating only twenty feet above them. I knew about super powered children in comics, and I was fine with the concept because it was fiction. Billy Batson and his siblings weren’t real, it was fine that they fought evil and died trying to save the world because nothing about their life was based in reality. But those three fillies, they weren’t fictional characters trapped on a page, they were living, breathing, tiny creatures that could die from one mistake. I cleared my throat and crossed my arms, catching their attention as they looked up at me. “You know I didn’t fly away yet, right?” My rhetorical question was met with silence before each of them called out one part of Mare-Do-Well’s name. Instead of a bolt of lighting like in Shazam’s comics, there was a blinding flash of light as the three fillies disappeared, and the fully-grown Mare-Do-Well reappeared in their place. “Magneto, what’re you doin’ here? I thought ya left already?” “I did, and then you shouted and I saw a flash of light. It's not exactly a subtle change.” “Change? What change?” “Cut the cra-er-the baloney. I know you’re just three fillies!” “Fillies, what fillies? I ain’t seen no fillies. No sir. No fillies here. What’s a filly any way? SCOOTS!” Mare-Do-Well shouted at herself themselves.(?) I couldn’t believe that the Harmony League would allow three underage children to play dress and fight crime. I would have liked to believe that they were all ignorant, but Nightmare Moon must have known about their secret, and she let them become heroes (a hero?) anyway. “I don’t believe this. Do your parents know about this?” I demanded. Judging from their combined body-language, I could tell that answer was a resounding, “no.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, both to ease my headache and to wake myself up slightly so that I could deal with them, I fully dropped to the ground and chastised them. “I can’t even begin to describe how bad this is. Do you have any idea what you three are doing?” “Hey, we’re superheroes, alright? We know plenty!” One of them defended, I assume either the unicorn or the pegasus. “That word must mean something different here, because from where I’m standing, you don’t! I can’t believe a bunch of kids are risking their lives like this.” “We’re not kids, we’re fillies! Apps, not helping.” “I don’t care, you’re still too young to be putting yourselves in danger! What would have happened if, God forbid, one of you died because of this? Huh? Is Nightmare Moon going to call your parents and take responsibility?” I pressed. “You need to stop this right now, before one of you gets seriously hurt.” “I don’t need a mutt telling me what I can and can’t do! Scootallo! You can’t call him a mutt! Fuck it, I’ll do whatever I want!” She argued, both with me and the other two. “Language, young lady!” “Fuck you. You don’t know us! You don’t know me!” “I know that you’re putting yourself in danger!” I shouted back. It was almost hard to remember that I wasn’t arguing with a full-grown woman mare, but three adolescent fillies throwing temper tantrums. Shouting at children that aren’t your own is never a good way to teach them, especially if they have super powers. Mare-Do-Well shoved me away when I tried to take a step closer, slamming me into the brick wall as she snarled at me. “I know what I’m doing!” “You’re a child! What makes you think you have any idea what you’re doing?” “Because we’ve been doing this for over a year, asshole! Scoots!” One of her friends chastised. I grabbed her arm to force the mare off of me, and that was the last thing I remember before she shoved through a wall of bricks. When I finally regained consciousness a few hours later, I was back in the Polaris Palace, laying prone on a cleared off table with my armor and helmet striped from my body. The scars and bruises that I had earned over my few weeks of active duty had vanished without a trace, thanks to the healing spell that either Mare-Do-Well or Nightmare Moon had applied. Only seconds after walking up and quickly stumbling to my folded costume, I was frozen in place as a blue aura encompassed my body. Nightmare Moon emerged from the shadows, peeling out of the slim cracks that decorated my bare walls. Still immobile, I was lifted off the ground and forced to face Nightmare Moon as she wore a glare that bored into my soul. I didn’t even notice when I was given control of my body back, too frozen by her gaze to even speak. In a swift motion, she planted a hand on my chest with only a thin piece of paper separating us. Stumbling back a bit, I quickly caught the check that she forcefully handed me and looked back up at her. “What is this?” “My second offer. Take it, leave, and do whatever you want. I’ll find someway more suitable for your enchantment.” “Wait, wait, what do you mean?” “I don’t think you’re capable to be part of the Harmony League,” she bluntly told me. “And those three fillies are?!” “Their enrollment into the League on a trial basis was voted amongst the highest members, just as the motion for your enrollment was put to a vote. The pillars of the League are aware of their age, just as several other prominent members are. Their missions are assigned accordingly, allowing them to learn more about their collective curse and fight for the Harmony League. If they were in any real danger, then they wouldn’t be allowed in the League.” “And what happens if they get shot?” I argued stupidly. If I had only thought about it more, then I could have seen the flaw in my argument, but I only ended up making a fool out of myself. More so than I had already done. “The same thing that would happen if Day Breaker was shot. They possess a third of the strength of a true alicorn, and they’ll likely be just as powerful as a real alicorn in the future. Don’t let their age cloud your judgment, Xavier. “And, they’re much more experienced than you. Of course, experience does not mean they are perfect. They’ll be reprimanded for attacking another hero, but don’t think that you’ll go unpunished. That is, unless you accept this offer. Take the money, hand over your enchantment, and don’t get in our way.” “I can’t—“ “Then effective immediately, you’ve been degraded to support. You will not be summoned by Harmony without having an experienced member present. Be grateful that Day Breaker spoke up in your defense. Were it not for her, I would have taken your enchantment already,” she said. leaving no room to argue as she dove into the shadows and left me in my lair. I was too surprised at the time to feel actual anger, but after a minute of siting in silence I lashed out and tore away the walls and floorboards, destroying the shoddy effort I had put into making my home away from Camp Everfree. I was angry at every at that moment. Nightmare Moon for her words, the Harmony League for allowing children to become soldiers, the world itself for imprisoning me. I flew into a blind rage that left nothing but torn metal and broken stone. After a few minutes of labored breathing, I was able to reclaim some peace of mind and stormed out of the Polaris Palace, slightly ashamed and still infuriated with what had happened. Unsurprisingly, those three are still fighting crime out there. They’ve fought a lot of ponies who were leagues above Maresterio, saved hundreds of lives, and I must admit that I begrudgingly look up to them. I still can’t help but be worried for them. Super powers or not, those three are still children. They deserve normal lives where they don’t have to stop the end of the world before bedtime or skipping school to save cities. Everyday they’re out there is another day that they’re putting their lives in danger. I also hope, for their safety, that they don't stand in my way later on.