Twenty Seventy Seven

by Editor Pony

Rating: teen
Tags: Crossover, Human, Dark, Comedy
Length: 2313

Three of the Mane 6 are teleported to a grimdark futuristic Earth where they must kill or be killed.

- Hiatus for an unknown length of time, because writers block and I need to make the story flow better -

Earth, 2077 AD. The world is lead by militaristic governments, who lead through martial law. Massive mega-corporations rule the economy and ruthlessly crush opposition, usually with guns. There are the leaders, the followers, the innocent, and the 'criminals'.

What happens when three pastel-coloured ponies are torn from their paradise and thrown into a world full of violence and deception? Can they teach the humans the Magic of Friendship?

No, no they can't.

Rated 'Teen' for - swearing, violence, gore, drinking, drinking and sexual innuendos.

Watch as I try to write a funny dark fic. And probably fail but meh.

Humour tag is only because some parts of the story are written without much seriousness.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-06-12 13:56:30 UTC

Prologue

A young, lush planet hung in space, Normally this wouldn't be anything interesting, but for some reason, the planet was being orbited by a fucking *sun***. You know, those huge balls of flaming gas? Anyway, looking down at the planet you could see one massive continent, which made up most of the planet's landmass. You could see mountains and forests and deserts and fields. And in one of these fields stood six colourful ponies and one worried-looking baby dragon.

"Twilight, I really think you should tell Princess Celestia before you try a new spell."

"Nonsense Spike! All I'm doing is teleporting everything from this circle," Twilight gestured to a circle marked out with red paint and filled with cardboard boxes,"to this circle." She said, gesturing to another circle, this one empty.

"If you say so..."

Spike still looked nervous, but decided not to argue. He knew that nothing he could say was going to change Twilight's mind, so he resigned himself to watch. The other five mares looked far less worried. They knew that Twilight was perfectly capable. Twilight strode confidently into the middle of the circle, and her horn started glowing. She tried to keep a determined expression on, but her face betrayed her excitement. Princess Celestia was going to be so proud! She had made a mass teleportation spell, and all by herself too!

She gave in to her inner emotions and allowed a goofy grin to break out on her face. A slight sheen of sweat became visible on her coat as her horn steadily grew brighter as the spell neared its peak. The air around her began to crackle from the energy being pumped into the spell. Then Rainbow Dash said something that made her lose her much-needed concentration.

"Waaaaait a second, aren't we supposed to be outside the circle?"

"WHA-"

CRACK

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A lone figure sat behind a desk shivering violently. The small room it occupied was spartan, only containing a desk, which was currently covered in paperwork. The figure's name was Arenel, a slightly strange name, but variety abounded when you lived on a planet with thirty billion inhabitants. A series of bangs sounded downstairs, followed by the sound of someone screaming and a sickening crunch.

He stuck his head out from behind the desk, quickly scanning the room. There was definitely no escaping now. The walls were made of concrete and steel, the door had murderous psychos on the other side, and some genius decided that it would be a great idea to make the only window in the room bulletproof and weld it shut. Not that it would be a good idea to jump out of a window 500 metres above the ground.

He took a deep breath and clutched his .45 Glock to his chest, resisting the urge to scream. Maybe if they weren't expecting him he would be able to take one or two down. Someone began to climb the stairs, and they obviously didn't care if anyone heard them.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

Arenel shivered violently. He should've known better than to go against The Wings. Everybody knew that they were the cruelest mercenaries around, and they didn't fuck around when they had a job. How had he let that bloody representative talk him into attempting to kill one of them? He glanced at the suitcase next to him, filled to the brim with credits. Oh yeah.

The heavy footsteps stopped at the door. There was a stretch of silence, and every second of it was torture for him. The anticipation was killing him. He nervously fiddled with a lock of his auburn hair. The door didn't just get kicked down. It shattered  into hundreds of tiny pieces of shrapnel, which miraculously missed Arenel completely. He ducked his head behind the desk again, his confidence failing him. Slow, purposeful footsteps slowly moved towards the desk.

The footsteps stopped. Arenel slowly looked up, a ball of dread churning in his stomach as he anticipated what he would see. His imagination wasn't disappointed. Towering above him stood Daniel, the leader of the merc group. Cold steel grey eyes stared at him impassively from behind a crimson splattered battle-visor. His grey camo armour was barely visible from underneath the dried blood coating it. Probably the blood of my squad-mates.

Arenel snapped out of his stupor and leveled his pistol at Daniel's head. Unfortunately for Arenel, Daniel's speed belied his size, and he easily slapped the weapon out of Arenel's hands. Arenel stumbled backwards like some sort of drunk crab, trying desperately to get away from his attacker

Daniel followed him towards the back of the room at his own pace, in no particular rush. Arenel couldn't tell what Daniel was feeling at the moment, since his visor obscured most of his face, but he probably didn't really care. Just another body for the morgue. In the face of certain defeat Arenel held himself high and leapt at Daniel, determined to go down fighting. It didn't really help though, and Daniel simply picked him up by the throat and began to slowly squeeze the life out of him.

"There is always someone like you. Always someone who thinks that they're better than they actually are. You see others like yourself beaten, but you always cling to the thought that it won't be you, that you'll be better than the last ones. But you're always wrong. And for that, you pay."

Arenel was surpised to find himself dropped roughly to the floor. Are they actually letting me live? His curiosity was cut short however as an armoured hand grabbed his jaw and violently jerked his head to the side. In his last moments before death he could see and feel everything with startling clarity. The way the light reflected off of the blood stained armour, the smell of mint (What the hell?), but mostly the excruciating pain he felt as the blood vessels in his neck were crushed.

Daniel unceremoniously dropped the dead man onto the floor and regarded him. He wasn't really sure why Militech had hired such amateurs to attack them, but the assaults were as ineffective as always. They must be getting desperate. Like a Glock was gonna do anything against power armour. He glanced at the briefcase before speaking into his comms.

"Target is eliminated Kat, and I've got our pay."

"Roger that, we'll finish searching the rest of the building and meet you out at the van."

Daniel let a hint of a smile out. This mission had been rather easy all things considered. It was unusual for a normal day now. They were always being attacked by the army or psychos with power armour and chainsaw guns built into their faces and shit like that. It was almost therapeutic to have a day where he could get out and kill some people without having to worry about dying all the time.

//||\

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Downstairs was much the same as upstairs. Bodies were sprawled in awkward positions all over the place, pocked with bullet holes. The few pieces of furniture that had once stood in the room were now thrown to the sides and coated in the blood of the people who had taken cover behind them. Three living people somehow managed to be comfortable in such a macabre environment.

The most prominent of the group was Kat. Her shiny silver cyberarms stood in stark contrast to her olive skin and dark brown hair, while her smooth face showed that she was no older than twenty five years olds. Deep groves were visible in her skin, evidence that she had skinweave, a cybertech modification that made the skin significantly tougher. Some of the higher levels of skinweave could stop a .50 in its tracks.

She seemed to emit an aura of confidence, boosting the morale of her comrades and striking fear into the hearts of those who opposed them. Her face looked like it was set in a permanent smirk, but her expression never really reached her strange eyes. What was strange about them? They never really stayed the same colour. They shifted from green to red and orange to grey, and somehow they did it naturally.

Sitting on a chair was Chen, who was rather more 'normal' than Kat. He was the techie of the group, and always displayed a demeanor that showed how few fucks he gave about everything. A lot could be derived about his personality by merely observing how calmly he sat on a bullet ridden chair stained crimson with the blood of people he killed because he felt like it. The blood wasn't even dry.

He wore navy blue full body armour with an yellow emblem of a dragon biting its own tail emblazoned on each shoulder. His skin was deathly pale and his veins were visible beneath his skin. Lanky black hair obscured his eyes and most of his face and his team mates often wondered how he could see through it. He left his trusty battle deck - basically a bulletproof laptop designed for use by hackers - at home, relying on his phone instead.

Lastly was Chris. He wore the same type of armour as Chen and had the same colour hair and attitude. He was quite tall, standing six foot five, and never went anywhere without his 12 gauge shotgun. He was the only one in the group who actually didn't enjoy killing, although it never showed through his 'I don't care' attitude. He just though that the others were loonies and often considered leaving, but the pay was really nice.

Even if he didn't enjoy killing, he still didn't care about ending the lives of others. The sheer coldness of his gaze was enough to make even the most jaded veteran shrink in fear. Most people would never think that there might be a real, compassionate person underneath his shell. That's because there isn't. He does an excellent job of acting it though.

The relative silence of the moment was broken as Daniel thumped down the stairs holding a black leather briefcase. He regarded his three squad mates carefully before walking out of the room. The others glanced at each other before shrugging and walking after him.

///|||\\

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Two hours later, Daniel sat with his three other team mates around a table, chatting the night away over a few drinks. Their fixer sat in a dark corner, counting out the credits in the suitcase, not seeming to pay much attention to the conversation besides the occasional smirk at a rude joke. Even Chris had to admit these guys were kind of fun when they were drunk.

Daniel got up from the table, walked over to the door of the basement and picked up his assault rifle. Noticing the confused looks on his team mate's faces he quickly explained.

"Just gonna get some fresh air, maybe have a smoke guys."

They nodded in understanding. "Alright, don't take too long though. These guys can't joke for shit." Kat grinned, nudging the two other guys.

Daniel chuckled and walked out of the basement, making sure to close the door behind him. He allowed himself to stop and take in the main room. Guns of all sizes and shapes lined the walls, hanging on racks or sitting on tables and benches. They had actually earned enough money to line the walls with real wood, since most people just used the synthetic stuff now.

A cozy looking door sat at the far end of the room, right next to a smokeless fireplace. A few plush chairs were placed near the edges of the room and doors to each of the squad's dorms were crammed in the gaps. The room was actually quite cozy. He walked over to the door and opened it before walking outside into the crisp night air.

The small building looked a lot less nice outside. A thick steel door covered in bullet holes sat in a wall made of solid concrete. It was flanked on either side by massive skyscrapers, making the building look rather inconspicuous. Deciding to go for a walk Daniel turned on one of his cyberaudio functions and started to listen to some music.

I'm waking up, to ash an dust

I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust

I'm breathing in the chemicals

He didn't pay much attention to his surroundings as he walked. He had lived here for 23 years and knew it like the back of his hand. No one was ever awake at this hour, leaving him alone with his thoughts and his music.

I'm breaking, I'm shaping up

Then checking out on the prison bus

This is it, the apocalypse. Woah!

He smiled to himself. Finally a day where he could relax. Nothing stupid had happened today, and he was confident nothing would.

I'm waking up

I feel it in my bones, enough to make my system blow

Welcome to the new age, to the new age

Welcome to the new age, to the new age

Woah, woah I'm radioactive, radioactive

Woah, woah I'm radioactive, radioactive!

CRACK

Daniel was startled out of his musings and instinctively ducked into the cover of a small alleyway to his right, holding his rifle close. The noise had come from the next alleyway along. He rolled his eyes. He was just over reacting. It was probably just someone getting killed or something. He turned and started walking back home.

Curiosity started to gnaw away at him though and he only got to the end of the block before it got the better of him. One little peek couldn't hurt. Upon rounding the corner he suddenly wished he hadn't. Lying on the ground in front of him was a minature purple unicorn. It looked like it had come straight out of a children's show.

"WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUUU-"