Don't Fear the Reaper
A fan-fiction by: Literature
Chapter 1: I Love a Good Raid
Unit 511 waited impatiently with a large force of marines at the bottom of a cliff. He hated waiting. He wanted to go. He wanted to move. He wanted to kill.
Even though the Protoss were mainly robots, it was still enjoyable to see them crumble to the ground after focused fire from his twin pistols.
He darted around the group impatiently, seeing four other Reapers doing the same. He let out a growl, and jumped towards a marine with the mark of a Sergeant on his shoulder.
"When we gonna go?" He asked impatiently, being echoed in his sentiment by another Reaper, Unit 127, who had sidled up beside him.
The Sergeant sighed, he hated dealing with the freaks, "we'll get going soon," he promised slowly, articulating every word so that the brain damaged former-criminal heard what he said clearly, "commander will give us our orders soon."
The Reaper jumped as he heard a voice speak to him in his helmet, noting the four others do the same.
The orders were simple, "Jump into the enemy base and wreak havoc."
"Havoc," Unit 511 said gleefully, "my favorite word."
He and the other Reapers quickly ran up to the wall that separated them from the enemy base. He activated his jump pack, leaping over it, and rushed towards the familiar Nexus at the top. He felt a psionic pressure in his mind, turning to see a High Templar waving its hands towards him menacingly, chanting in the Protoss language.
The reaper grinned as he charged the Templar, shouting something he had heard zealots say before he killed them, also adding necessary Terran lingo, "Haru neladan, motherfucker!" He cried, unleashing the fury of his dual pistols on the Templar's shields, which quickly evaporated under his onslaught. He laughed as the weapons tore through its body, sending it falling backwards and vanishing in a flash of light, like Protoss were known to do.
"That's what I'm talkin' about!" he cried, copying marauders he had seen doing the exact same thing as he was going to do next.
Throwing bombs at gateways.
Well, the marauders didn't throw their bombs, like he did, they shot them out of their huge armor like the pansies they are. He let out a laugh at an Immortal trying to target him, missing all of its shots due to his speed. He jumped on a cliff above the wall that prevented his fellow marines from entering the base, out of sight of the photon cannons, and began throwing his charges at the gateway to allow passage of his comrades into the base, laughing as the matter constructor made more bombs for him to throw as the gateway began to spark. He laughed maniacally.
"Hit and RUN!" he cried, throwing one last bomb at the gateway, following its path as he jumped down and threw another bomb at the photon cannon behind the gateway, which was just locking in to him. He felt the plasma bolt burn his flesh underneath the armor, but ignored it. His combat drugs could fix that. He ran towards the photon cannon, in hope of this strategy causing it to flinch or otherwise not be able to fire at him.
Unfortunately, the Protoss did not program their turrets to flinch, so he was hit by a second blast as he ran through the ruins of the gateway, which began sparking furiously, as he threw a final charge at the photon cannon, causing it to lose its shields as it fired another shot at him. Time seemed to slow as rubble from the gateway began being sucked into the core. He tried to resist the pull of the hole opening up in the gateway, but couldn't.
He gulped, "this ain't good."
It was the middle of the Day court, and Celestia was listening to the petitioners protesting the oppressive police force in Stalliongrad. It is an issue that has only recently been brought to her attention, as communication between the city and Equestria's capital, Canterlot, was limited at best, and she just now realizes that all exports were being first surveyed by the police force. She took all of the protests into account, merging it together in her mind, like the puzzle it was. Everything fit together, and there was something she needed to do about it.
"Your request has been acknowledged, and will be taken into immediate consideration of a new establishment of a police force," she said smoothly, thinking of how she was going to execute that, when suddenly she felt a massive magical surge in the very room she was in. She winced, lowering her head for a couple seconds, before quickly casting a true-sight spell, allowing her to see the flow of magic in the air.
She opened her eyes, knowing the ponies in the room saw them as glowing white, and looked around the room. As in all Equestria, there was ambient magic all around her, colored slightly darker than the magic resisting enchantments around the throne room. But, there was a large anomaly in the center of the room, right inside one of the petitioners. She gasped as the hole in the magic grew darker and darker, until it was black.
She ended her true-sight spell, ordering her guards to evacuate the premises of all ponies save for herself, as she began charging her horn for an extremely large shield spell.
Her guards escorted the civilians outside, and she could hear the door shut behind them as she casted one of the most powerful barrier spells in Equestria, the Triplex Magicae Clypeum, in the air around the anomaly, that was now affecting the very fabric of space time. She charged her horn again and threw up another Triplex Magicae Clypeum around the first barrier, panicking as the anomaly grew in magic more powerful than even her own.
She called upon the power of the sun itself, putting it into her horn, sweating from the raw magical surge from her horn. She casted Triplex Magicae Clypeum again and again around the anomaly, her relief growing as it looked like she was going to have enough magic to seal away the explosion. Her many golden barriers were beginning the affect the surrounding environment, threatening to cause a surge of magic that she would not be able to control.
She was about to cast one of the last three necessary spells to contain it, when the anomaly pushed outward. She felt cuts begin to open in her horn from the usage of too much magic, wincing at the pain, but continuing to cast.
She had to keep her subjects safe.
She gasped as time slowed around her, taking a few seconds to charge up her horn more for another spell, as she saw the magical explosion rip through one of the most powerful spells in Equestria like it was nothing. She saw the pressure of the explosion beginning to slow as it reached the outside of the many spells, feeling each spell's destruction like a physical blow to her horn. She screamed and casted one final barrier spell.
But it would not be enough. She could only stare as the explosion ripped through her second to last barrier spell, showing no signs of slowing.
She closed her eyes. This was the end. There was no way she could contain it. She looked down at the ground as the world began to glow purple.
Wait, purple? The explosion was black.
She looked to her right, to see a white unicorn in purple armor do exactly what she just did, but with more force and speed. The explosion ripped through his barrier spells like they were paper, barely slowing with each one.
But slowing nonetheless.
Shining Armor casted a final barrier of rune-covered magic shielding that stopped the slowed blast in its tracks. He panted slightly, as the anomaly was sucked back into a singe point, which quickly grew to a sphere.
The sphere seemed to suck in light, distorting the reality around it, as Celestia and Shining Armor shared a look, both too low on energy to even begin to stop it.
Then the sphere exploded harmlessly, sending shrapnel flying against Shining Armor's shield, until the explosion of golden material stopped, and the hole dissappeared.
All that was left as evidence was a large amount of golden shrapnel.
And a red metal figure lying on the ground.
Author's Note
END CHAPTER 1
Wow, I actually did this.
Cool.
Hope you all enjoy, this was really exciting to write!
Got Something for Me to Kill?
Don't Fear the Reaper
A fanfiction by: Literature
Chapter 2: Got Something for Me to Kill?
It was always hectic in the Dominion bases on the planet that Unit 511 was stationed on, an endless noise always present no matter where you were in the compound. Strangely enough, it was the absence of noise that woke up the Reaper. He shot up in the bed he was currently in, noting the white walls and sterile appearance of the room before a feeling of vertigo caught up to him, causing him to fall back to his side with a grunt.
He quickly pulled up the Heads-Up-Display on the inside of his helmet, quickly scanning it with his eyes for anomalies or shortages in any of the many chemical substances he used on the battlefield. He could only stare in shock as he found most of them empty, opting to turn his head and stare at the strangely patterned door.
He promptly began to busy himself looking around his bedside table for replacements. The medics on base always had spares out just in case a forgetful Reaper ran out. He hoped he could find them soon, as he knew that the withdrawal symptoms were less than pleasant. He distinctly remembered Unit 263 meeting a messy end at the hands of his own weapons after trying to remain off of the drugs after a mere three days. He promptly began to panic as he searched the ward, noting that the cabinets were all strangely on the floor, and that many of the common tools found in a Terran medical ward were absent, such as scalpels and syringes filled with various chemical compounds that many thought not even the medics were aware of their contents.
He took a deep breath and scanned the room, trying to scramble his brain as he began to feel pain in his arms, something he was not used to feeling. He noted the low ceiling that most marines would not be able to stand up straight in, and the door that even he would have to duck to enter. He noted one wall that looked like a giant mirror, strangely not tilted like most Terran medical bay walls were, as he noted that the limited amount of tools that were in the room were not only lacking sharp edges, but also had strange grips clearly not intended for Terran hands.
Taking another breath, he came to one conclusion.
He was not in a Terran medical bay.
He looked over to the wall that was covered with the mirror that he was now realizing was a one-way glass pane. He looked around for something to use to break through it, before realizing that whatever had him in their custody had left his weapons behind on his person. He paused to look at the mirror, wishing he could glare through his mask.
He wasn't trapped in the slightest. The question was, did his enemies know that?
Captain Shining Armor of the Equestria Royal Guard stood in the observation room of the medical room, reinforcing the walls of the chamber the creature was in with continuously changing complex shield spells, preventing anything from seeing into the room from anywhere except the room he was currently in. An excited clamor from one of the scientists that was observing their charge, his voice guiding Shining Armor to recognize the scientist Spontaneous Observation. He opened his eyes to the room around him, seeing all of the science ponies looking down into the room that held what was currently considered Equestria's most dangerous threat, considering the breach in magic it took to teleport the creature into the Royal Throne Room of Equestria was close to the size to destroy an entire city.
Shining moved closer to the one-way-glass, seeing the creature frantically looking for something in the medical wing.
"Should we talk to it?" One of the science ponies asked, looking at the creature as it rooted through the medical cabinets on the floor.
"Don't be ridiculous," a pony that Shining Armor recognized as Test Tube replied, "he won't be able to understand us."
"Doesn't the sound of a helpful voice help a confused animal become calmer?" Another scientist asked softly, largely being ignored by the others.
As the other ponies bickered, Shining Armor readied his backup shield spells. He stared at the creature, remembering to send a telepathic signal to the princess's bedchamber to notify her of the creature's ascension into consciousness.
The creature then paused, the soft glow of its eyes passing over the room around him, slowing and finally stopping the the window that Shining Armor now looked out of. He brought himself into a more prepared position in case the creature tried something.
The creature took a strange metal spherical device from the loop of black material around its middle, looking at it for a couple seconds as a new one began to form with a blue light from where he had pulled the first one. The creature looked once again to the glass, pressing in the red circle on the device, which began to blink slowly as he hurled the object towards the glass.
Shining Armor reacted quickly, reinforcing the glass so it wouldn't shatter from the impact of the heavy looking device. He saw all of the scientists jump back as four metal spikes jutted out from the point of impact from the device, tracing their ways to form four more orbs that continued to blink, spawning two more each for a total of thirteen blinking metal devices, whose aforementioned blinks were growing quicker as almost a full second passed before Shining Armor recovered from his shock to craft a shield around the orbs, reinforcing it with runes from the outside walls as the middle one erupted into fire and shrapnel, triggering the others to do the same, pulverizing the glass that shared the shield with the devices. Shining let out a gasp as the explosion strained his barrier before dissipating into the shield, which Shining then quickly mimicked the one-way view effect of the glass. Effectively repairing the damage to the shield.
Negotiations were not going well.
Hardly thinking, Unit 511 threw a G-4 Cluster Bomb at the glass. When the bomb stuck into the glass, which began to glow purple, he quickly scrambled for a way to get out of the line of fire, opting to flip a table and duck behind it. He heard a series of muffled explosions, giving him pause. The explosions of a G-4 Cluster Bomb were anything but quiet.
He looked back up from his table to see a perfectly round hole in the glass seal up with a purple light before reforming the material and its one-way plane of view. He cursed softly as he couldn't get a good look inside.
"What?" He cried out angrily, "should I have said 'hello' first?"
Almost a minute passed before a voice crackled to life on the intercom in the corner of the room. "Um, yes," the voice said, "that would have made things a lot simpler."
The Reaper glared at the glass. "Well if you had started by introducing yourselves, then all of our lives would be made a lot easier!" He began to feel a pressure in the back of his skull, reminding him of his lack of drugs.
"Oh yeah, by the way," he began, "Do you have any-" he trailed off as he tried to read the names of the drugs he was out of on his HUD, "Methyolysitarisus Irrenetularin...?" He said, confused, understanding little to no of what that meant, praying that the creatures or whatever he was talking to did.
"Can you spell that out?" The voice returned, causing the Reaper to sigh.
"Fine!" He shouted, getting strangely angry at the intercom. He spelled the name of the chemical out for them, reading it off of his HUD. He waited for a few moments, growing anxious.
The intercom crackled on again, "we have never heard of such a substance, I'm sor-"
He was cut off by a string of curses from the Reaper, who slammed his gloved fist into the wall. He leaned heavily against the wall, pushing his masked forehead into the sterile surface, thinking over his suicide note while he still had the brain to do so.
There was a pause in the static before it picked up again, the voice saying cautiously, "is that a problem?"
"A problem?" The Reaper said quietly, before slamming both of his fists into the wall angrily, "a problem? I can't live without the stuff!" He took a slow breath. "It's one of 14 different chemicals that are injected into my bloodstream at regular intervals to satisfy the physical restraints of..." He paused, thinking better than to tell these creatures of what he did, "of my profession."
A silence fell over the room as the Reaper began to feel very light-headed. He winced and put a gloved hand over his masked scalp. He felt a sudden urge to remove his mask, something he had not done since he had put it on. Why hadn't he done it? Why must his mask stay on. He struggled to remember.
He fell to his knees. Both of his hands now on his head as he felt a wave of nausea accompanied by frantic voices from the intercom.
He didn't feel the ground when he hit it.
