Gene Tonic finds himself the only survivor of his crashed airship. Thankfully he lands near what appears to be an abandoned lighthouse. However things quickly go sour and Gene finds himself in Eufillyia, a once great Utopia that defies all pony science. However the place has been overrun with horrible creatures and ponies all vying for the resource known as L.U.N.A. All Gene wants to do is leave but he finds Eufillyia has other plans. (Note first fanfic so reviews comments and concerns are welcome and appreciated.)
They told Gene “Son you were born to do great things”. You know what they were right.
Gene Tonic’s once limp body jolted into consciousness. Crash, the airship had crashed. Where was it going? Why had it drifted over the great equestrian sea? Why had it crashed? All questions that no longer held any importance. The only thought coursing through Gene’s mind was that if he didn’t surface soon, he was going to drown.
Gene breached the surface of the great equestrian sea, just in time to gasp a mouthful of oxygen into his lungs. Panicked Gene began to survey his surroundings. Nopony had joined him on the surface of the ocean, and at this point, he doubted any would. Debris of the airship was burning all around him, and then he saw it. By some miracle a large building, seemingly rising up from the ocean, was towering over him. Gene thought of staying, to make sure no other survivors surfaced, but the great equestrian sea was particularly frigid, and Gene began to worry about hypothermia. So he began to swim towards the towering building before him.
Luckily for Gene a convenient set of stairs, leading to a large door, had been available for use. By now, Gene surmised that the large building before him was a lighthouse, though why it was out in the middle of the ocean, Gene could not imagine. Looking back one more time at the wreckage confirmed his worst fear; he was all alone out here. Taking one last look at the wreckage, as it slowly finished sinking into the ocean, Gene pushed open the large metal door, and walked inside.
Gene’s black mane flowed, as he was hit with a rather large breeze, emanating from inside the lighthouse. Shaking himself dry, Gene slowly began to walk into the lighthouse. Suddenly, as if expecting him, the lighthouse became aglow with many fluorescent lights. At the center of the room a giant statue of a unicorn glared down at Gene. Below the statue was a banner, that read, “Neither magic or miracles. Only ponies.” Gene was confused at what the sign was saying. Being a unicorn himself, Gene knew magic existed. Only the most ignorant foal would argue to the contrary. He didn't know why, but for whatever reason the statement, embroidered on the banner before him, made Gene very angry. As if to insult the unicorn before him, Gene used his magic to untie the banner, chuckling, as it slowly drifted to the ground.
Gene continued further into the lighthouse, still trying to discern its purpose. As he continued into the lighthouse, Gene found himself in a large room filled with models. Most were of futuristic buildings and walkways, but a few showed syringes, filled with some vile looking blue liquid. Gene pressed forward, lights illuminating his way. Upon reaching the end of the room Gene came to a case that held something he never expected to see. His jaw almost fell to the floor.
Magic channellers didn’t exist anymore, or at least weren’t supposed to exist anymore. Built only four decades before Gene’s birth, the first magic channellers promised the next step in pony evolution. What they did was astounding. Anypony who wore it could cast magic, unicorn or not. The amazing devices also strengthened the already rock solid magic of a unicorn, giving them almost alicorn like abilities. Indeed it seemed channellers were the way of the future, granting a better future, for all ponies.
However not everypony embraced this new, great, technological advancement. In fact most ponies downright feared the device, calling it unnatural and dangerous. Debates seemed to drone on endlessly, day after day of fighting. Finally the debates reached a fever pitch, and Princess Celestia herself decided to put an end to the debates, once and for all.
Calling upon her most trusted advisers, Celestia held a court case, the outcome of which would undoubtedly change history. For days, ponies on both sides spoke their guts out. Some debates got so passionate, that violence in the chambers became common. Many a debater walked away with broken snouts or sprained hooves.
In the end however, the decision was with those who spoke against the channellers. Celestia ordered any further production on channellers be stopped, and also ordered the dismemberment of all current devices. To many it was the greatest day in Equestrian history. To others however, it was the darkest. Some of those who supported the channellers left, in search of a place where they could continue their work, without the interruption of Celestia. Some even committed suicide, not willing to see the fruits of their labor die. In a couple years time the issue faded from memory, becoming the stuff of history books, but nothing more.
Or so Gene thought. The device before him however, was proving him quite wrong. What in Celestia’s name was a device this powerful doing in a lighthouse? Considerably shaken, Gene left the room hoping to find answers, up ahead.
The room Gene entered next was very unique, when compared to the others. Instead of holding statues, models, or dangerous artifacts, this room had nothing, but a rather large sphere in the center. Upon closer inspection Gene found the sphere to be and elevator of sorts, with seats for a couple of ponies, and a large lever protruding from the middle. The real question was, where did it go? There were no rails to carry the elevator up, and no logical place else it could go.
Gene sat in the room for a fair bit of time, contemplating his options going forward. He could go back, but then what would that accomplish? He could stay put, but nopony knew where he was, and he was fairly certain nopony was looking. Which left the elevator as his only other choice. Gene sighed, looked around the room for any other exit, and with another sigh, stepped into the elevator, and pushed the lever.
Gene almost immediately regretted the decision. The door had closed behind him with a slam, and the elevator lurched to life, with a resounding screech. Then against all odds, it moved down. Down was not a place Gene wanted to go. He turned in horror, and watched as his elevator became completely submerged in water. Gene began to hyperventilate. He had just escaped wreckage going to the bottom of the sea, and now it appeared he was going there anyways. Looking through the window of the elevator, Gene watched, as the elevator submerged, even deeper. Somepony even thought it was a good idea to have markers, showing how far down you were. Gene stared with abject horror as he past thirty fathoms, then forty, then fifty. It was like a nightmare.
Suddenly a projector screen jutted out, in front of the window. Gene, startled, fell back into the seat behind him. A picture of an earth pony, working on a field popped up, on the projector screen. A narration kicked in soon afterwards.
“Hello my little ponies,” a voice said, in a regal, upper crust accent. “My name is Pushing Progress, and I’m here to ask you a question. Is a pony not entitled to the sweat of their brow?” The picture changed to that of Celestia, with a stern look in her eyes. “No say the alicorns,” the narration continued. “Their sweat may be dangerous!” The picture changed again, this time showing the face of a pegasi general. “No say the Military it belongs to the government” The picture changed yet again to a picture of a zebra. “No say the zebras it belongs to everyone!” The picture changed to a pony that Gene could only assume was the narrator. “I rejected those answers, and instead, I chose the impossible, I choose the unthinkable, I choose...Eufillyia.” The screen lifted up from the window, revealing a sight that made Gene’s jaw drop to the floor.
A city, a full-fledged underwater city, laid before his eyes. Gene’s was astounded. The city must have been as large as Manehatten, if not larger! Billboards hung from the buildings; advertising everything, from plastic surgery, to fine wine. It was incredible.
The narration continued. “A place where the artist need not fear the censor, a place where the inventor need not be troubled by ethical bounds, a place where the big would not fear the small! And by the sweat of your brow, Eufillyia can become your city too.”
Gene had paid the narration, no mind. He was to enraptured at what was around him. He saw people using the walkways between buildings. He saw divers outside making repairs to a window. He even saw a whale sail right past him, as if it were nothing unusual. He must be dreaming.
The elevator turned a corner towards a building labeled welcome center. On the side of the building bright neon letters exclaimed “All good things flow into Eufillyia,” around a hole, the size of Gene’s elevator. Gene shuddered with nervous anticipation, when suddenly the emergency radio turned on.
“Appleseed, did you call the bathysphere?” said a voice with a thick coltish accent.
“N-no,” said another voice, sounding quite scared.
“That means it’s, been activated topside, which means we got company,” the voice said in nervous anticipation. “Appleseed you need to get to the welcoming hall ASAP!”
“B-but,” stammered the scared voice again.
“Fifty L.U.N.A. and seven sparkle hypos,” said the coltish pony.
“Deal!” yelled the other voice, sounding considerably braver.
“I’ll be sending you some sentries in five minutes. Until then I want you to keep our visitor safe from harm, got it?” asked the Coltish pony sternly.
“You got it boss!” exclaimed the other pony.
By this point the elevator had already reached the building and was beginning to surface inside the building. Still the conversation on the radio left Gene with one question. What dangers did he need to be kept safe from?
The elevator rose from a hole, in the floor, in the welcoming hall. A green light inside the elevator turned on, indicating it had concluded its journey. The room itself was filled with suitcases and other travel cases, presumably belonging to the newer residents of this place. Besides that, the room was built very well, with a design that could only be made by an accomplished architect.
Gene, rather than explore the room, decided it was best to wait in the elevator. After all, he was expecting an escort.
Eventually, a stringy looking unicorn stumbled into the room, magic wrapped around a firearm of some sort. But Gene noticed something was off. The unicorn was spooked, as if he had just seen some sort of ghost. His telekinesis was quivering as the gun he held swung around from side to side. As he backpedaled toward the elevator he managed to squeak out something.
“Hello?” asked the unicorn, clearly frightened by something.
Gene was about to say something, when a voice from the darkness surrounding the room beat him to it.
“Aw, is the little unicorn scared?” said a bloodcurdling voice, from the darkness. “Perhaps we should show ourselves. Maybe that will help sooth his nerves,” said the voice, clearly indicating it was toying with the poor unicorn.
A figure of a pony dropped from the ceiling, landing with a resounding thud. Something was off however. The pony was horribly disfigured, to the point where Gene could barely tell it was a mare. On the head of the pony was a magic channeller, eerily familiar to the one Gene saw in the lighthouse. Attached to that channeller was what appeared to be a metal exoskeleton, with many compartments and widgets attached. To top it all off, at the end of each hoof were a pair of sickle shaped hooks. On this particular pony, the hooks were stained red.
“Oh Celestia no,” the unicorn exclaimed firing off two shots of his firearm. Neither came anywhere close to hitting their mark.
The mare he just shot at leaped into action, sprinting towards the unicorn with an unquenchable blood lust. “Nopony shots at me, and gets away with it,” the mare screamed, slashing her hooks into the unicorn’s torso. The unicorn stumbled back, with two large cuts perforating his chest.
“No,” was he managed to let out, before the barrage continued,
Gene watched in horror, as the unicorn was eviscerated before his very eyes. The mare kept slashing the stallion, seemingly unsatisfied until every vital organ was exposed to the air. After what seemed like ages of hacking and slashing, at the corpse of the unicorn, the mare finally turned towards the elevator, anger etched across her face.
“Well what do we have here? A little coward, sitting in a bathysphere? Well maybe its time he came out!”
The mare jumped up onto the elevator.
“Get out of their you little coward!” the mare screamed at the top of her lungs.
Gene was more than content to stay where he was. He would not move from the safety of the elevator, if Celestia herself asked to bear his foals.
“Arrghh!” the mare screamed, as she jammed her razor sharp claws into the elevator. Gene expected the elevator to put up a stiff resistance, but was horrified to learn her claws could penetrate the metal, like a hot knife through butter. Worse still was the startling revelation that he would not be able to go back, as the elevator rapidly became holier than a piece of Swiss cheese. Still the elevator was keeping her away from him, which he accepted as preferable to dying.
Eventually the mare stopped trying to rip the elevator apart, realizing it was a lost cause. She jumped down in front of the elevators window, and pointed one of her claws at Gene, still dripping with the blood of the unicorn.
“All right you little maggot, listen up,” the mare said sternly. “You may think you have won, but you can’t stay there forever! And when you come out, you can be guaranteed that I’ll be waiting.”
With that the mare leapt back into the shadows of the room, grumbling to herself as she left.
Gene, at this point, was huddled up in the middle of the elevator (or bathysphere as the inhabitants called it). She was right, he would starve if he stayed in the elevator. Gene rose to his hooves and looked around. The bathysphere was in complete disarray, twisted metal bending every which way. Gene used his telekinesis to pick up the unicorns gun, and groaned with dismay when he found it was empty. No wonder the unicorn only fired off two shots. Gene slumped back down contemplating whether it was better to starve in a metal coffin, or end up a pile of flesh and gore on the floor. Gene was on the verge of crying when the radio suddenly sparked to life.
“Hello is anypony alive in there?” said the voice on the radio. It was the same voice that was communicating with the unicorn before. “I can’t believe that bitch took out Appleseed like that,” said the voice, clearly dismayed. “Look, I know you probably feel like the most unlucky stallion in the world right now, but staying in there isn’t going to do you any good. So if you would be so kind as to take that radio with ya, it would be much appreciated.”
Gene used his telekinesis to remove the radio from the wall and held it up to his ear.
“Good, now listen. I know ya don’t have no reason to trust me, but if you want to live, your going to need to step out of that there bathysphere, and into the middle of the room. I’ve got a sentry bot over in the next room but I need to get a clear shot on the bitch.”
Gene immediately realized he was the bait in the plan, and almost refused. But then he got to thinking. The voice had no reason to want him dead. In fact, he was trying to have the unicorn protect Gene from harm. More importantly he had just lost one man to, whatever that was out there, which means he had extra motivation to want her dead. And besides, this could be his one chance to survive this encounter. So with a sigh, Gene mustered up all the courage he could and opened the door of the bathysphere.
As Gene began to leave the sphere, he heard the mare moving throughout the darkness. She was trying to spook him, no doubt, but Gene kept moving toward the brightest part of the room, paying the noises no mind.
“Well look who came out to play,” said the raspy voice of the mare. “I honestly didn’t expect you to come out so quickly. In fact I was betting I’d have to wait a good day, before your ass trotted itself out of there. Well you’ve made my day much easier.”
By this point Gene had reached the well-lit portion of the room, and began looking for the source of the voice.
“Well then, any last words, coward?” the mare cooed, sounding very close to Gene.
Gene slowly looked up, and saw the mare, hanging from the ceiling, by her claws. He dived away just in time to avoid being hit, and began to sprint back to the bathysphere.
Gene was almost halfway to the bathysphere when the radio he was carrying sparked to life.
“Eat this you dirty bitch,” said the voice. Gene watched as an odd gizmo zoomed past him. He turned around, just in time to see it open fire. The mare was peppered with bullets from the gizmo. She took a few steps forward, and then slumped over, holding onto her wounds. She muttered something that Gene could not make out, and then went limp.
“Nice work kid, ya did great,” said the voice on the radio. The cheerfulness matched his Coltish accent well. “We ain’t of the water yet I’m afraid. So would you be so kind as to find a wrench or something to defend yourself with?”
Gene was more then happy to agree, and quickly picked up a lead pipe that had found its way onto the floor.
“That will do for now I suppose,” said the voice over the radio. “My names Creative Cartography, by the way, but you can call me Carter.” Anyways, we got to get you out of there, before any more of them hybrids show up.
Gene was more then happy to oblige, picking up a pair of saddlebags on the way out. Sliding the precious radio into one of his pockets, Gene cautiously moved into the next room.
The room he now occupied was very similar to the last, albeit without the bathysphere. The architecture carried the same style of the last room, but it still managed to encapsulate the horrors of the welcoming hall. Blood smeared the walls, and worse the lighting was just as dim as before, creating a macabre and grisly room. Worst of all however, was the pony pacing back and forth in its center.
“Why isn’t she back yet?” asked the pony. He was just as disfigured as the mare, but instead of having the grotesque claws of his counterpart, he instead had a blood stained crowbar. The stallion himself was an earth pony, but the magic channeller on his head allowed him to telekinetically grasp the crowbar with ease.
Gene backed into the shadows of the room with caution. The stallion would surely see him, if he attempted to move into the next room. While contemplating his options, Gene’s radio sparked to life.
“Your going to need to kill him,” said Carter. “Sneak up on him, and give him a good whack with your pipe. And most importantly, don’t get sentimental on me. Any mercy you show to the hybrids, won’t be returned.”
Gene sighed and moved forward slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. He held the pipe firmly with his magic, knowing full well the consequences of losing his only tool of defense. When Gene was finally within striking distance of the pony he swung the pipe with all the force he could manage.
The pipe hit the ponies back, making a sickening crack while doing so. The stallion spun around in shock, just in time to see the metal pipe swinging for his face.
Gene wasn’t sure whether the pony was unconscious or dead, but the blood flowing from his spine and head, lead him to believe the latter. He determined the crowbar wasn’t a massive upgrade from his pipe and kicked it aside, and proceeded to check the hybrids saddlebags. For the most part, they contained nothing special, a few spare bits (which Gene quickly pocketed); some cigarettes (Gene didn’t smoke so he tossed the aside with the crowbar) and an odd syringe labeled first aid. Gene was staring at the syringe confused, when the radio sparked to life.
“That there is a first aid hypo,” said Carter, attempting to explain. “Just use it like any syringe and the liquid will heal any abuse you have taken.”
Gene nodded his head to indicate he understood, and slid the hypo into his saddlebags. Carter continued over the radio.
“Now if you would be so kind as to go two rooms down. I’ve got a present for ya, that will hopefully assist in keeping your ass alive.” Gene did as he was told, and moved to the next room.
It was a theater of some sorts, or at least it had been. Broken lighting, glass, and the dried blood on the walls indicated this room had not been used for its intended purpose in a long time. Gene carefully began to move across the scaffolding trying to find a way to get to ground level. That is when he saw the gruesome scene taking place on the ground floor.
The floor was littered with a group of hybrids, all of which had expired. That wasn’t the worst of it though. That honor was given to the little filly, currently probing one of the corpses with a grotesque looking needle.
The filly looked terrifying. Her eyes glowed a sickly yellow. Much like the hybrids, she wore the metal exoskeleton, but rather than having a magic channeller or claws, she instead had large needles protruding from her hooves. The most disturbing part of the scene however was the grotesque enjoyment the filly was getting while probing the corpse. Gene was about to throw up, when Carter interrupted him.
“That’s a Little Filly,” he said. “Some sick bastard turned these cute, wee little girls, and turned them into monsters. Don’t get near her though! I’m still looking for her Big Stallion.
Gene obliged Carter’s request and continued to move across the scaffolding, trying to hold in his lunch. The Little Filly paid him no mind and continued to probe the corpse, humming a tune while doing so. Gene eventually found his way over to a place to drop down, and did so with a thud. The drop however turned out to be the last straw, as he finally lost control of his digestive track, and deposited his lunch in a corner of the room. Gene was now separated from the filly by a wall with windows locking into the theater, no doubt where the audience would stand.
Gene wasn’t close to prepared for what happened next. A hybrid, holding a revolver of sorts, strolled into the room casually. Gene slid into the shadows, hoping he would not be noticed. The Little Filly, on the other hand, was content where she was.
“Well what do we have here?” said the hybrid pointing the gun at the Little Filly. “A lone Little Filly huh. I’m going to get lots L.U.N.A. off of you.” The hybrid raised his hoof over his head, preparing to knock out the filly in front of him.
The filly turned to face her aggressor and screamed.
The hybrid stood dumbfounded for a moment, but quickly recovered at hit the filly across the face.
Suddenly the room became filled with a noise, like nothing Gene had heard before. Gene covered his ears, looking for the source of the earsplitting noise. It took only seconds for him to find it.
There, standing in the theater box, was a figure that only looked vaguely pony. Whatever it was, it was wearing a divers suit that even Princess Celestia couldn’t fit in. The helmet had multiple holes, from which a menacing red glow pulsated, menacingly. Most importantly one of its forehooves was missing, being replaced by a large, gore splattered drill.
Gene, still cowering in the dark, watched as the menacing figure dropped down onto the floor. Gene could feel the vibrations from where he was sitting. The hybrid meanwhile turned his attention toward the monster, firing multiple shots into the glowing helmet. The monster shrugged of the shots as if it was nothing, and lunged toward the hybrid. Gene watched in terror, as the monster proceeded to pummel the hybrid into a gory pulp. To the hybrids credit, he did try to fight back, but to no avail. The monster finally content with the beating it delivered, started its drill, and drove it forcefully through the now thoroughly unconscious hybrid. Blood and gore spread everywhere, giblets splashing onto the window Gene was looking through.
“That’s the Big Stallion,” Carter said over the radio. “The filly grabs the L.U.N.A., and he keeps her safe.”
The Big Stallion walked toward the Little Filly. Rather than be scared by its presence, the filly took delight.
“Come on Smartypants, we have to go find more angels,” said the filly.
Gene watched, as the lumbering beast escorted the filly out into a back door. He cowered in the darkness for a little while longer, and once he was sure the coast was clear, began to loot the dead bodies. Most only had bits on them, but the hybrid the Big Stallion killed still had his gun with him. Gene picked it up and found it only had three rounds, so he slid it into his saddlebags. He didn’t want just a lead pipe to fight the Big Stallion with, should it return. Finally Gene went through the door and reached his destination.
“Good job, now if you would be so kind, as to move up the stairs on your right,” said Carter. “Up there you should find a vending machine with a syringe in it. Use that syringe, and you should be more able to defend yourself.
Gene was more then happy to oblige Carter’s advice, it saving him multiple times in the past hour. When he got upstairs Gene found the vending machine Carter was talking about. One the front in bright red letters it proclaimed, The Fancier’s Field! Hold the power of Celestia right at your hooves! Two Little Fillies adorned its sides, which to Gene, made it very creepy.
Gene used his telekinesis to pull out the syringe jammed in the vending machines slot. This one was quite different from the first aid syringe. It carried a sickly blue liquid, rather than the luminescent red liquid the first aid syringe carried. It’s paper read L.U.N.A. and below that, in quotes, Lavishing Unicorn Nervous Adhesive. Gene raised the syringe to his hoof preparing to jam whatever the liquid was into his veins.
“Be careful now, the first hit is always the hardest,” said Carter.
Gene jammed the needle into his arms, and injected the sickly blue liquid. Nothing happened at first, but then there was a quick burst of pain in his hoof. Gene howled as he watched his hoof spasm in pain. It was bending in ways he never thought possible!
“Stay calm pal, the L.U.N.A. is just bonding to your nerves. Everything is going to be okay!”
Gene couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to. By now the pain had spread throughout his body. Gene started to backpedal, forgetting he was on the second story of the room. Gene backpedaled into the banister, and toppled over it. His head hit the floor with a resounding thud, and after a couple of seconds of lying there, Gene passed out.
When Gene gained consciousness, he found himself being robbed by a hybrid. Gene tried to remain as still as possible, while the hybrid rummaged through his saddlebags.
“Looks like this little fish had his cherry popped,” said the hybrid, brimming with glee. “Wonder if he has any L.U.N.A. on him.” A loud thud interrupted him. “Crap. Looks liking my searching is going to be cut short.” The hybrid turned to face Gene’s face. “I don’t think you’ll fair any better with a Big Stallion though.” With that the hybrid ran off, and Gene slipped out of consciousness.
When Gene awoke a second time he found himself dangerously close to being probed by a large needle. He gasped with shock, and then sighed with relief, when the needle stopped in response.
“Oh Smartypants I’ve made a mistake. He’s not an angel yet, but don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll be an angel soon.”
The Little filly then skipped off, her Big Stallion in tow. After lying there for a few seconds Gene found himself slipping into blackness for the third time, part of him wishing he wouldn’t get up.
Chapter 2: Fashion Disaster “Great, now how do we get it off?” “We don’t. It’s attached to his damn spinal cord”
Gene wasn’t lucky enough to die in his sleep. When he awoke, the pain in his hoof had subsided, leaving an odd, tingling sensation in its place. Groggily he stood up, trying to keep his balance.
When truly conscious thought returned to him, Genes first instinct was to search his saddlebags. At first glance, everything seemed to be all right. His bits were there, as was his first aid hypo, and even his revolver remained in its place. However when Gene opened the cylinder to it, he was bemoaned to find the hybrid took every bullet. He’d be stuck with his pipe a little bit longer. Carters voice piped through the radio.
“You still there? Good, I was getting worried.” Now, if you’d be so kind, as to head into the next room.”
Gene really didn’t want to leave the room, but a little voice in his head reminded him Carter hadn’t been wrong before.
The next room was massive. A large glass window adorned an entire wall, giving full view of the city. On this wall were three separate doors.
“Now you’re going to want to take the middle door,” Carter said. “That will take you to the sub yard. Once you there head toward...”
A loud clanging noise resonated from the roof. Gene’s gaze turned upwards, as a large piece of his airship flowed into view. The piece was gigantic, almost as big as the room itself. It narrowly avoided hitting the glass window, but it did not avoid the walkway, connecting the welcoming hall with another building in the distance.
The walkway broke with a sickening crack. Even from where he was standing Gene could see the glass walkway crack under the weight of the wreckage. The metal, which once looked so sturdy, buckled under the girth of the airship.
A flurry of swears erupted from Gene’s radio. “Celestia’s perfect bucking plot, what luck! Of course a piece of your damn airship destroys the walkway.”
Carter sighed, sounding very disappointed. “Kid, I hate to tell you, but you’re going to be stuck here, longer than I expected. Given the circumstances, I’d go get a harness.”
Gene blinked in confusion.
“Ugh, you know the harnesses. The exoskeletons the hybrids wear. You didn’t think they were just for show did you? Everypony here has one. I even have one. Luckily for you, the entrance to Handy Harnesses is the door on the right.
Gene looked to the brightly labeled door on the right. Advertisements surrounded the door advertising every harness came with a magic channeller. Gene shuddered at the thought of wearing a harness. The magic channeller itself was dangerous enough. What if it shorted out? What if he couldn’t get it off?
Carter seemingly sensing his distress began speaking. “Kid as I said before hybrids won’t sink to your level. They don’t care about an even playing field. Feel free to go on without it, but be warned. Your journey out won’t be as easy.”
Gene sighed. Carter was right. He wasn’t going to last long if he didn’t get one. So he mustered his courage and stepped through the door.
This walkway didn’t fare much better than the one leading to the sub pens. While it did avoid a direct impact, the glass stilled cracked. Gene would have to keep that in mind if he found some explosives.
In the middle of the walkway his radio buzzed to life. “Kid look, the L.U.N.A.s finished with your nerves.”
Gene lifted his hoof up, to find it was now glowing luminescent blue. Odder was the tingling sensation it now held.
“Electroshock, nice. My first was inferno, but not everyponies genes are like mine. Anyway just focus your magic, and you should be able to shoot lightning from your hoof. Can get quite nasty, if you hit a puddle of water.
Gene was eager to try out his new ability. Focusing all his magic he launched a large string of lightning bolts from his hooves. The effect was tremendous.
“Good to know your taking to the L.U.N.A. well,” Carter said, pleased. “Now you can’t be slinging around lightning forever. Eventually the L.U.N.A. losses potency. To restore it, just take a sparkle hypo.
Gene was satisfied with his new found ability, and happily trotted further down the walkway.
By the time he reached the end of the walkway, Gene was exhausted. He was wondering why the walkways were so long, when something odd began to happen. His vision began to blur to gray, as the figure of a pony pounding against the entrance to Handy Harnesses came into view. The ghostly apparition began to speak.
“Devilish you let me in now! You can't hide in there forever. One of these days you’ll have to pay me back, for running me out of business!
Shots rang out from behind Gene. He turned to find nopony there. When he turned back to the ghost he found it lying down, clutching its hoof.
“Ah! You shot me! What are you doing? No. No. No!
The apparition disappeared as quickly as it came. Gene considerably shaken, took a step back, as his radio flared alive.
“Ghosts. Nasty business around here. Occasionally your L.U.N.A. will flare up, and show memories of ponies with similar nerves. Nothing to worry about.”
Gene wasn’t sure it was nothing to worry about, but he shrugged it off anyways. Nervously, he stepped into the entrance of Handy Harnesses.
The reception hall had many hybrids. Thankfully they were all dead, but the caked blood on the walls left the impression nopony had been here in a while. The silence was oddly creepy and comforting, at the same time.
Taking a look behind the front desk Gene found a large safe. After a bit of direction from Carter, the safe creaked open. Inside were some bits, two sparkle hypos, a first aid hypo and some tapes.
Gene stared confused at the tapes. Carter’s voice blared through the radio.
“That’s a voice recording. Someponies decided that it would be cool to record themselves. I can’t guarantee there will be anything good on them, but if you’re curious your radio doubles as a tape player.”
Gene pulled out his radio and slid the tape in its designated slot. Hey, it was in a safe, it must be valuable. The tape blared to life in a burst of static.
“Test number 1 went very well. While not the result I would have hoped for, he did retain some control of his harness through thought alone. A few minor adjustments should yield the desired results.”
An eerily familiar voice chimed in. "Devilish, the patient has a couple of questions.”
“Yes what is it?”
"He wants to know how we can get the harness off."
“We don’t. I’ve attached it to his spine.”
The tape ended there, leaving Gene with many questions. The second voice on the tape, was definitely the voice of the apparition he saw earlier. But why was he helping the pony he had scorned before? Gene decided he would have to listen to the other tapes later.
Handy Harnesses was huge. Most of it was filled with little medical offices, many of which had first aid and sparkle hypos. Gene was about halfway through the complex when he finally realized, there were no hybrids to be found. Nowhere in the facility had he seen one wandering hybrid. Either they were all hiding, or the place really was abandoned.
Gene reached what appeared to be an employee kitchen. At first he thought nothing of it, but a growl from his stomach reminded him he hadn’t eaten in hours. He cautiously approached the refrigerator, and found it was filled with rotten food.
“Getting a little hungry are we?” Carter said. “Well luckily the vending machines still work. Meal bars aren’t the most tasty things in the world, but they do keep you full.”
Gene approached the vending machine in the corner of the room. It had a picture of a pony dressed as a clown on it. The machine had many knobs and buttons. Eventually Gene found the desired one a put in his bits. A small bar fell out of the machine with a clatter.
Gene’s attention was then drawn to the vending machine next to him. On it was a picture of a pony happily firing pistols. The machine itself advertised bullets. Gene happily put in the rest of his bits to fill up on revolver ammo.
Gene decided while he was eating it would be a good time to listen to the second tape.
“No! No! No! This won’t due at all. The armor needs to be indestructible.
“But Devilish the materials aren’t here for something like that.”
I don’t care assistant! Tell Progress that if I don’t get the proper materials for the armor harness, I’m going to stop selling. If he lets his city go to hell, then that’s none of my business, but when these crazy ponies bust down my doors I want protection. Hold on, are you recording this?
Gene had long since finished eating his meal bar. The recording wasn’t entirely useful, but if he could find one, Gene would prefer an armored harness. As he got up from his seat, Gene saw movement.
A shadow flickered against the doorway, and ran off. Gene bolted back into the hallway, only to find it empty. Whoever it was clearly didn’t want to make his presence known. Sighing, Gene plugged the final tape into his radio, and began to listen.
The new prototype is almost finished. It could be better. The armor doesn’t cover the neck, but I’m hoping if I can get closer to Progress he may give me the final pieces of metal. My assistant has run off, which is strange. Progress said his psychologist friend programmed him for absolute loyalty. Oh well, its not that big of an issue. Once the armor is finished I’m going to put it on myself, and leave this awful building, with or without him.
Gene’s exploration had lead him to the main harness room. Harnesses of all shapes and sizes hung from the rafters. Machines, Gene presumed put them on a pony, were clustered about the floor. There were also two large vats of acid. Both were labeled, “Dangerous. For harness testing only!” Gene began searching the harnesses for the armor variant, but came up empty handed.
“If you’re looking for the armor harness, I’d suggest looking elsewhere,” Carter said, over the radio. “Devilish Designs was supposed to be awful protective of it. His office is a few rooms down.”
Gene sighed. He wanted that armor. So he left the room behind, in search of Devilish’s office.
On the way there, a noise stopped Gene for a moment. He spun around just in time to see movement. “Okay,” he thought. “Now I know somepony is following me.” He cautiously turned around, and began moving forward again.
Devilish Designs' office was labeled surprisingly plain. A simple plaque was all that stood out about it. The door was locked, but with coaching from Carter, Gene picked it with ease.
The office itself was huge, with a window that put the one in the entrance hall to shame. A device that put harnesses on stood in the middle, with a flashing error message adorning the top. There were several easels with blueprints attached to them. Bookshelves aligned both ends of the room. Finally in the back corner, there was a large, ornate desk. On that desk was a tape. Gene eagerly put the tape into his radio, and began to listen.
Still no sign of my assistant. Oh well. The crazed masses have already broken in, so I doubt he is still alive. The armor is finished, but putting it on is taking a while. My decision to not use anesthesia, is turning out to be a regrettable one. Still, it does let me record this message.
A loud crash could be heard in the background. Oh Celestia, one of them broke in. He is moving toward the machine. You there. What do you think you’re doing? Wait. Stop. You can’t interrupt the process now! Stop! Don’t pull on those wires! No! Arrgghh!
Gene stopped the tape. He knew exactly what happened and knew where to look for what he wanted. Cautiously he approached the machine in the center of the room and pushed the emergency release button.
One the one hoof, Gene was overjoyed to find the button worked. On the other hoof, he was not happy to find Devilish Designs’ body spill out on the floor. His body was greatly disfigured by the machine. The armor harness Gene had been looking for, was only half connected to his spine.
Try as he might Gene couldn’t pry the harness loose from the corpse. The spine was somehow fused with the harness. For a moment Gene felt like giving up. Then an idea popped up in his head. Mustering all of his magic he lifted the corpse, and walked out of the room.
“What do you think your doing kid?” asked Carter over the radio
Gene wanted to answer but lifting the body required his full concentration. He also wanted to tell the pony following him to reveal himself, but that wasn’t happening either.
Finally, after what seemed like ages, Gene reached the room with the harnesses. He set the corpse down gently, as he began working on the vats of acid.
“Oh! Good thinking kid,” said Carter.
Gene finally managed to pry the lid from one of the vats. He stared at the corpse for a good while. Was he really going to desecrate the body of another pony, just for the harness on his back? He was scared, but he certainly still had morals.
“Aw, don’t tell me your getting cold feet. Kid this is a life or death situation. Now, if you would be so kind, as to dump that corpse into the acid vats.”
Gene obeyed, realizing the intensity of the situation. The acid began working immediately, eating away at the flesh and bone. The harness however remained resilient. The acid bath only acted to clean the harness.
After fifteen minutes, the corpse was completely disintegrated. Gene took the harness out of the acid carefully. After making sure the harness was dry, Gene turned on one of the machines, and placed the harness inside.
“Now kid I’m not sure how long you’ll be out.” You should be safe but I can guarantee nothing.”
Gene wasn’t about to turn back now. Confidently, he walked into the machine, and turned it on.
The machine closed around him, locking him in place. Gene struggled for a moment, but stopped soon afterwards. He had nothing to fear.
Suddenly an intense pain arose from Gene’s flank. He turned his head just in time, to see a large needle remove itself from his side. Soon after he began feeling woozy, and fell asleep.
Sometime later gene awoke with a shock. He had no clue how long he was out, but that didn’t matter. What did matter was the odd and painful feeling in his back.
The harness was attached successfully. The retractable armor was folded in designated slots. On one of his forehooves, a strange device protruded itself from the metal. On the other forehoof, was a device with slots for syringes. A belt adorned his stomach, with a slot for bits. Most importantly, the entire setup acted as a magic channeller.
“Kid your awake,” said Carter, stating the obvious. “Now you’ll need to head to the medical pavilion. That would be the other walkway in the entrance hall.”
Gene was still trying out the gadgets on his new harness. It happily accepted his sparkle hypos and first aid syringes. Even more amazing, was what happened when he held his revolver near it. The harness greedily snatched it from his magical hold. It then proceeded to disassemble it, putting each individual piece away. Gene was scared at first, but found when he thought about the revolver, the harness reassembled it. The revolver was at the ready in seconds, and a firing mechanism allowed him to fire it, without using magic. The armor also activated and retracted on command
Gene was amazed. The harness did indeed live up to its namesake. Happily, Gene trotted out of the room.
He was about halfway down the hall leading to the exit, when a loud clatter behind him stopped him in his tracks. He turned, to find a hybrid panting.
The hybrid was much like the first one Gene encountered. However rather than have sickle shaped hooks, this hybrid carried long serrated knives. His cutie mark was mutilated to look like Devilish Designs’ cutie mark.
“You defile his work!” the hybrid screamed in an eerily familiar voice. It became apparent to Gene that this was not only the pony he saw as a ghost, but also Devilish Designs' assistant. “You come in here act like you own the place, and then defile my masters body! You will suffer for your mistake!”
The hybrid charged at Gene with great speed. Gene barely had time to activate his armor before the onslaught began. The armor blocked most of the blows, but Gene was shocked when a knife dug into his neck. Luckily, his harness auto-injected a first aid syringe, healing the hole in his neck.
Gene quickly retaliated, firing off all of the shots in his revolver. To his horror, he found the hybrid could dodge his bullets with ease. Gene then tried using his electric shocks, only to find that they were just as easy to avoid. Shocked, Gene made a beeline for the exit.
Gene was growing exhausted by the time he reached the entrance to Handy Harnesses. The inpony rage the hybrid held against him was giving him super endurance. Gene was running out of options, when a truly diabolical idea popped in his head. Pushing himself Gene sprinted towards the entrance walkway.
As expected, the cracks in the walkways glass dome had allowed the creation of small puddles. Gene turned around and set himself up for the trap.
The hybrid bolted through the entrance of the building. Lining up his shot Gen fired an electric shot at the puddle the hybrid was standing in. The results were spectacular. The hybrid was stuck in place, wincing in pain. Gene wasted no time and fired his revolver. The hybrid buckled in pain, holding his wounds.
“You! You are the worst. You break into his sanctuary. You put his body in acid, and watch gleefully as it dissolves. You won’t leave here alive!”
The hybrid removed a detonator from his harness. It took only seconds for Gene to realize what was about to happen. He began sprinting for the exit.
Gene barely reached the door, when the explosion ripped through the walkway. Panting in the entrance hall, Gene watched as the walkway was destroyed. His attention turned towards the entrance to the medical pavilion. He had only begun to move, when a voice over the P.A. system stopped him.
“You’ve done quite a lot in a short time,” said a familiar voice. “You know, I was content with letting you stay in my city. I’m no fool. Even I can see there isn’t anything in my city worth saving. However, I will not tolerate the destruction of my city! Five thousand L.U.N.A. to whoever can bring me the pony, who is destroying my city, on a pike.”
Gene had no doubt that message went to the hybrids. He began sprinting for the medical pavilion, when three hybrids appeared from the neighboring rooms. In their bickering over who should get the L.U.N.A. they failed to notice the puddle they all stepped into. Gene capitalized the opportunity, shocking them all to death. After looting the bodies, Gene went to the doorway leading to the medical pavilion.
“The wings and the horn never deteriorate, no matter how much L.U.N.A. is used.”
Gene swore the tunnel leading to the medical pavillion was longer than the one to Handy Harnesses. It didn’t help that hybrids flooded into both sides of the tunnel. Luckily through his armor and a fair bit of first aid hypos, he managed to finally make it to the medical pavilion.
The pavilion itself was widely varied. Rather than be laid out like a conventional hospital, it was instead laid out like a fast food court. Cremations to the left, plastic surgery to the right, and traditional medical care in the middle.
“Alright lad,you’re going to want to go left. Keep heading until you get-” started Carter, before being interrupted by an all too familiar voice.
“Planning to go to the sub pens, are we? Well, I’d hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it appears your exit has been blocked off,” said Progress. A loud clank in the distance punctuated his last statement.
“Dammit Progress, how did you hack into this channel?” shouted Carter, angrily.
“You act like its some mystery of what frequency you’re talking on,” replied Progress. “This is my city, and I reserve the right to listen to what radio broadcasts I wish.”
Gene’s blood began to boil. All he wanted to do was leave, but Progress was doing everything he could to make it difficult on him.
“Now if you two will excuse me for a minute, I must deliver a message to my esteemed citizens.” The intercom system began to broadcast. “The parasprite has made his way into the medical pavilion. A limitless supply of L.U.N.A. awaits the citizen who kills it.”
Various shouts erupted from the medical pavilion. Hybrids began to pour in to the main hall from all angles. Gene dived behind an overturned table, and activated his armor. This was not going to be an easy fight.
***
Finishing the last of an almost limitless stream of hybrids, Gene began to loot the corpses of his adversaries. His sparkle and first aid hypos were all used up, but luckily the bodies had enough bullets to replace whatever he shot. He was also delighted to find a modified submachine gun on one of the corpses, with plenty of ammo to keep it sustained. He was even more amazed to find his harness greedily snatching it from his hooves. It then proceeded to disassemble it in a manner similar to his revolver. When he picked it up, the gun was considerably heavy. Now it felt as if it weighed nothing. He was in the middle of using the bits he scrounged to buy first aid hypos, when Carter began to speak.
“Look kid, it looks like Progress locked you into Medical. What your going to want to do is find the override key. To the best of my knowledge, it should be in the possession of a Dr. Pristine Plastics. She’s insane, constantly trying to find a cure for the physical deformities L.U.N.A. use causes. The insane part is she’s doing it for Celestia, who apparently appears to her in weird visions. She split with Progress a while back, so I wouldn’t expect to find any L.U.N.A. here, outside of the Little Fillies of course. Now if you would be so kind as to go to her office and retrieve that key.”
Gene finished retrieving the hypos he wanted and proceeded to the aforementioned office. After all, Carter hadn’t been wrong before.
***
Gene pounded against the door as hard as he could. Of course the office was blocked off. Rather than being locked however, it was instead frozen solid, jamming the internal mechanisms of the door. Gene was patiently awaiting the direction of Carter, when a new voice chimed in over the radio.
“Hello, dearie,” said a distinctly feminine voice over the radio. “My name is Pristine Plastics, and I do believe you can be some use to me.”
“Kid, she’s crazy.” interjected Carter “Don’t listen to a word she says!”
“Aw Carter, can’t you just let the poor kid assist me with one teeny tiny experiment,” cooed the mare over the radio. “I’ll give him the key out as his reward, and if my experiment goes over as planned, he’ll get so much more.”
Cater grumbled, clearly thinking over his options. A short time later he sighed; “Alright Pristine, what do you want him to do?”
“Well, first off I’d like him to unfreeze the door. Unfortunately his little airship damaged the coolant pipe, and I lack an inferno plasmid to get out. Luckily, there is a fresh vial in the morgue region of the pavilion. So, I’d have him go there,” said the mare. Gene heard a bit of seduction in her voice, which made him a bit uncomfortable. “In the meanwhile I have another patient to attend to.” The transmission then cut out, leaving Gene alone once again.
Gene turned to head back to the entrance of the pavilion, when a safe caught his eye. Curiosity overtook the unicorn, and he proceeded to pry open the safe. His curiosity was well rewarded, as multiple first aid and sparkle hypos poured out onto the floor. Gene greedily shoved them into his harness, when the tapes in the back of the safe finally caught his eye. Finishing off the hypos, Gene popped the first tape into his radio.
***
“A patient approached me today complaining of a growth on his back. I was initially going to dismiss it as a common blemish, but when he showed it to me, I was amazed to find the growth was not only large and noticeable, but also glowed bright blue. Quickly I arranged for the growth to be cut off so I could examine it further. The results under the microscope were even more surprising. It appears the unruly growth is a group of cells that have gained a chemical dependency to L.U.N.A.. I immediately contacted Progress about this, and he said he knew nothing of strange growths caused by L.U.N.A. use. Still, I’m not taking any chances with this. I have ordered all medical personnel to stop their L.U.N.A. use until further investigations can be made. In the meanwhile I’m expecting many more customers with the same problems.”
“More and more ponies are coming with these growths. It’s amazing how quickly this situation is growing out of hand. Our medical supplies aren’t designed for this much use, so Progress is sending some engineers to upgrade them for constant use. Still, the growths don’t inhibit a pony in any real way. I’m honestly considering sending away some ponies who can’t pay. Sure, it looks nasty and disgusting, but it also does nothing to a pony's body outside of feeding on any L.U.N.A. that the host takes. Still, it only looks like extreme L.U.N.A. usage causes this, so my decision to cut back on L.U.N.A. is most beneficial.”
“Remember how I said the growths only showed up with extreme L.U.N.A. usage? Well that turned out to be quite false. Everypony, including medical personnel, have been reporting these growths. I have since stopped L.U.N.A. use altogether. Worse is studies show these chemicals create a chemical dependency in their host, much like taking other drugs. Progress has since told me not to publish the report, claiming the results are inconclusive. Honestly he sounds like a drug kingpin who just learned he was going to make an influx of profits. Still, he runs the place which makes me obligated to agree with him.”
“Well my worst fears have become realized. I too have the growths blemishing my perfect image. When I woke up from sedation after having it removed, I was amazed to find Celestia standing there. She asked me if I was willing to help her with something. I eagerly complied. She wants me to solve this growth problem once and for all. I am more than happy to oblige.”
“Celestia’s getting impatient. Work is slow especially since she has to hide whenever anypony else is around. Meanwhile we are having to turn away perfectly good test subjects since they don’t have the bits to pay for the medical supplies. Celestia urges me to let them in, but Progress is having none of that. He says the pavilion is a business, not a charity. I say he’s a shithead. Nopony wouldn’t pay through the nose for a cure for this problem. All we have to do is discover it. Isn’t that right Celestia?”
“Celestia is an absolute wonder to behold. She works with such diligence and focus. I pray that one day I too could be so efficient. Still, progress on a cure has been slow. At this point, we aren’t serving anyone who can’t pay at least a hundred bits per growth. We’re also beginning to throw away samples of tissue as we have no space for them. It’s disgusting, tedious, and wasting the goddess’ and my time.”
“We may have just discovered a major breakthrough. There I was, checking samples, when Celestia comes over to ask me a question. She asked me why she couldn’t find any horns or wings with growths on them. I couldn’t answer that question but that did give me an idea. Checking sample of skin from my horn, I discovered that the cells there actively filtered the L.U.N.A. with ease. Celestia’s wing samples yielded the same result. We may have just found our cure.”
***
After what seemed like hours of walking, Gene finally reached the morgue. Gene was truly convinced Plastics was crazy. Still, he had to admit, she did have good intentions. As he hesitantly approached the entrance to the pavilion, Gene noticed how empty it really was at this point. Barely any hybrids had interrupted him since he was initially attacked. The only company he had anymore was a single Big Stallion, repeatedly banging on a small steel opening. It was a little disquieting for Gene.
The morgue was almost burnt to a crisp. Papers and wood burned in the room, while the charred remains of several hybrids stunk up the room. Gene got the sneaking suspicion that this wasn’t going to be as simple as fetching the tonic. “Aw, yes on important caveat deary,” said Pristine over the radio. “The inferno tonic is currently in the possession of a former assistant of mine. He had certain qualms about my experiments and ran off with it. My information says he is currently barricaded in the back of the morgue.”
Gene stepped forward into an office, only to be blasted with a rigged shotgun. “Shit,” he thought, as a first aid hypo was injected. He’d have to be much more careful around here. Cautiously he stepped from behind the wall, and picked up the shotgun. It was an old lever action model, which his harness was more than happy to take from his possession. As the gun was disassembling, Gene took note there were only three shells left.
The rest of the morgue was just as bad as far traps were concerned. Gene however quickly wised up to them, disarming every mine and rigged shotgun he could find. Eventually, Gene found his way to the center of the morgue. He opened the door only to be fired upon by a turret. He ducked out of the cone of fire, but not before taking a few shots in between the gaps of his armor. He watched in dismay as he used up the last of his first aid hypos. After making sure his wounds were properly healed, he made one deft movement in which he disabled the turret with a blast of his electroshock.
The room was occupied by a single corpse with a pistol nestled firmly between its teeth. A vial a a blood red liquid rested on the desk behind the corpse; alongside a tape. As he held up the vial with his magic, preparing a syringe to inject the disgusting liquid into his bloodstream, he also popped the tape into his radio and began to listen.
***
Crazy Bitch is trying to kill me. She says she’s only trying to help, but surgically transferring extra body parts ain’t what I signed up for. So I did the only logical thing,steal her damn inferno plasmid and freeze her into her office. Great plan right? Wrong! Crazy bitch sends her own hitman after me. I ain’t letting him take me down though. I’m going to die riding on a cloud of pure bliss this plasmid has to offer. To whoever is listening to this, Fuck you!
***
Gene really hadn’t expected much more from the audio recording. Honestly he was surprised a single hybrid managed to formulate any plan what so ever, let alone one so good. At least, until he showed up.
Shrugging away any preconceived notions of hybrid intelligence, Gene injected what remained of the plasmid into his bloodstream. The effect was almost immediate. His hoof was completely consumed in bright red flame. However any pain was either ignored or nonexistent. Focusing his energy, Gene fired a large ball of flame from his hoof. It quickly devoured what was left of the desk in front of him. Gene grinned. This was going to be fun.
***
Still keeping his sadistic grin, Gene incinerated the last of the wandering hybrids To get it the way of his journey back to Pristine. Sure it cost him S.P.A.R.K.L.E hypos to recharge his L.U.N.A, but with the bits that remained in the ash piles he was creating, he could always buy more. Without even consulting Carter, Gene blasted the door to Pristine’s office with a glowing ball of powerful fire. The door thawed instantaneously.
“Kid, wait, before you go in there,” Carter began futilely. Gene was euphoric with power, and was throwing caution to the wind. Gene triumphantly marched into the office, but not before turning off his radio. He didn’t want to be told what to do.
The office was huge. A spacious area to do paperwork lead into a private surgery ward. Gene marched to a large window overlooking the main surgery ward. To his disgust he walked in on a surgery taking place, and not a particularly pretty on either.
“No, you aren’t supposed to die. The gel is used to bound your skull to the horn, not burn holes in it!” a mare Gene could only assume was Pristine yelled, pounding a bloody horn into the poor hybrids skull. The unfortunate pegasus had long since died, but was still being brutally mauled by the crazed doctor.
“Now I have to find a new.... oh thank you Celestia. Greetings new test subject,” said the crazed doctor. In an instant she lifted a crossbow from behind a surgery table and fired.
Gene had no time to react. The bolt struck him squarely in the shoulder, but surprisingly stopped there. Using his magic Gene pulled the bolt from his shoulder. As his vision faded he took note that the bolt was actually a syringe.
***
Gene woke up from a pleasant slumber. He was still groggy, but quickly noted he was strapped to a surgery table. Examining his surroundings he noticed the pegasus corpse haphazardly thrown into a corner of the room. His wings were conspicuously missing. Gene’s wings sprung to attention at this. Notably shocked with his new found appendage, Gene screamed.
Authors notes: Hey guys, thanks for reading this far. This will be the first chapter released since Harmony was released. The existence of that story is going to slow down this story’s progress dramatically. I’m not stopping, just note that updates for this story aren’t going to be frequent. I have other projects planned so if you’d like to try those on for a change then feel free. Sorry D:
