I walked down the long, bleak, hallway, one hoof after the other, thinking deeply. The 60Hz buzz of the fluorescent lighting permeated the halls as the only sound aside from my hooves, the lights flickered against the concrete walls all around me. The basement was an eerie place, not just for its cold industrial feel, but also for the creatures I knew were stored there.
There must be some solution I'm missing. There must be something else I can do. Some other way to save them. Some miraculous answer that my team couldn't work out in the last three weeks— I've got five minutes to find it. Five minutes.
I rounded the corner and proceeded into holding cell block E. Before progressing, I used my magic to manipulate a control panel at my right, darkening all the windows in the hallway, for my sake as much as the patient's, assuming he or she is of sound enough mind to be disturbed.
The suffering in this place... The mutated and the mutilated; abominations of our own design; many of which were completely useless or even counter-productive in the interest of scientific progress. Even allowing their continued existence is cruel, given the suffering so many of them are in. When TrotWood hired me... This isn't what they told me it would be like. They said I would be helping ponies, but it seems like they only make things worse, and I'm naught but an accessory to their crimes against Equinity.
I hesitate as I see cell E-23 just ahead. Whatever's in the cell is so cold that huge sheets of ice, coated with delicate frost crystals, laminated the shatter-proof glass and the cell door, sucking the moisture from the air. But there's something more, there's a sadness. A loneliness. Some kind of emotional vacuum that makes me feel that I'll never love or laugh again for as long as I live.
As I pass, I recall a technical note: the cold is so severe that the window cannot make itself fully opaque. It makes little difference, regardless; whatever is locked in the cell has filled it with whirling clouds of ice crystals, rendering itself invisible. It almost looks like a snowstorm— a snowstorm, in corporeal form, locked away in a cage.
Although I found myself strangely rooted to the spot, I pushed myself to carry on. I'd heard stories about the things that happened to ponies who stood in front of E-23 too long. They became angry, depressed, and violent, and quickly lost everything and everyone that mattered to them. Not me. Not yet.
I shudder, not sure if it's from the cold or the empathic influence projected by the creature inside. The next several cells are no better— chimaera experiments. Combinations of different creatures, chiseled from the very stuff of chaos. A foalish effort to combine magic-systems of different creatures to create super-soldiers. It was an extension of the Element Project— an attempt to make creatures who could wield the incredible power of an 'Element' without going mad.
Success was limited, mostly because the fusion process had a 100% chance of inducing madness. The creatures inside thrashed about, slamming their nigh-indestructible bodies into the walls, wailing for help. Like all cells, these were equipped with plasmonic magic dissipators, though the units attached to these cells were dedicated, two per cell, and hundreds of times more powerful than the others. A necessary precaution, given the unbelievable raw energy behind those Elements.
Even if my superiors had wanted to kill these creatures, the task would be very nearly impossible. Starswirl had developed a way to subdue them temporarily by turning them to stone, and some say he even knows how to kill them, but... I don't know. Even with everything else I've heard about him, that's somehow the least believable.
Cell E-35 was interesting. A former faculty member who had taken on an early-model Element.
He never did anything. He never ate. He never slept. He just stared out the window. We couldn't darken the window. He wouldn't let us. Even if we opened the door, he wouldn't try to leave, and he wouldn't attack us. He would just keep staring. Nobody knew what he was staring at, and the only time he ever moved was in response to an object that blocked his view of the window. He couldn't be understood, communicated with, or helped, and despite being one of the few to survive taking on the powers of a god, he does nothing with them except stare.
I passed cell E-39.
I've never been this deep into Block E. Who are they sending me to collect?
Something about E-41 caught my attention, though I wasn't sure exactly what it was. I approached the dark black pane of glass, wondering if I should turn it transparent and check inside. Any unusual activity involving one of the subjects is to be reported immediately, of course.
A pony was standing behind me, just visible in the reflection. I spun in place and backed myself against the wall, only to find myself alone. Panting and panicked, I shook my head, rubbed a hoof against my right temple, and looked down the hall. Nothing to see all the way to the end of the hall, and the only noise was coming from a few cells down. A subtle rapping of a hoof against glass. 'Tap-tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap.'
That stallion... He's been dead for years. This place is starting to get to me.
Finally, I reach my destination. Cell E-42, the temporary home of the poor soul who would be our salvation. I checked the clipboard by her cell door, to ensure I'd found the right one, as mistaking one patient for another would mean my certain death, if not the deaths of thousands of others.
Subject AE900004B3F2:
Project Purity: Paragon
Exercise extreme caution. Class 0 subject— irreplaceable. Subject is the ideal candidate for Project Purity and must not be allowed to leave the facility or parish until the project is completed. Project Purity is projected to have a 88% chance of failure if the Paragon is lost.
cMARK code: 0AEFDD27789B6DC
I shut my eyes and sighed deeply, before reaching out to touch the control panel. As expected, it buzzed and verified my own cMARK code before requesting a retinal scan. A cheerful beep indicated that the procedure had successfully identified me and verified that I was authorized to open the door. I could hear the bars that hold the cell closed sliding inside the mechanism, terminating their motion with a loud clang.
Why would they send me alone? No guards, not even any other faculty members. There's so much at stake if Project Purity is to fail... All intelligent life on the planet will be wiped out. There's about one hour, give or take six minutes, before it's estimated that the AI will overcome the weapons-interface scrambling algorithm. If anything goes wrong in uploading this patient to The Grid... We'll be responsible for killing every living thing on the face of this planet.
The mechanism clicked a few more times as some emergency solenoids pulled themselves out of the solid metal door, and it finally swung open on its hinges. Unsure of exactly what I should expect, I kept my distance from the opening, peeking around the frame, slowly, carefully...
It was a filly. A child. Too young for her to psychomagical system to have fully stabilized, even, her bare flank standing as a testament to that. I stood in the door, mouth agape, staring at her.
This is even low by TrotWood standards. She's a damned child! And now we... I. I am about to sacrifice her to a god of our own design. Her life surrendered in order to save billions.
A child. Why? For the love of everything that's good, why? Of all the beasts in this place— all the monsters, prisoners and staff alike, why a child?
"Where's my mummy?" The filly asked, looking up at me with big, sad, green, eyes.
An innocent, sweet, little child. This is wrong. Nopony should be subjected to Project Purity... It's necessary that someone must; It's the only way to stop the grid from wiping the Earth clean. But why a filly? How could it be that she's the ideal filter to put between The Grid and the harshness of reality? How could they believe that a filly could handle that much raw data? I would gladly put myself in her place, but I know my mind would never survive The Grid; madness would consume me in seconds!
There are creatures in this place with mental capacities hundreds or even thousands of times greater than that of any natural pony, and I was sure it was going to be one of those 'things', but my superiors chose this child over them...
It's no use arguing, or trying to understand. She was designated by cMARK as the optimal candidate, and cMARK is... a brilliant computer system, if an immoral and tyrannical tool for monitoring and judging every pony. There's no more time. She's... The only choice, even if I can't understand it.
"I want to see my mummy and daddy..."
Fuck.
"I..." My heart sank as I prepared to lie. "I'm going to take you home soon, we just have to see the doctor one more time."
"But I want to see my mum... She was so sad when I was leaving... I want to kiss her and make it better..."
This kid... Wow. Spent... I don't know, must have been a week in that cell, alone... And she's worried about her mom. So beautiful, so sweet... So... sickening. It's so wrong but... That must be why it's right. Her innocence, her sweetness... That's the plan. That's going to be the buffer between The Grid and reality. If it sees the world through her eyes, it won't be able to kill us. It's sick. It's so sick.
"Your mom will be okay... I promise. You're going to—" I had to stop talking. A lump built up in my throat as I fought back tears. "You... You will save everyone. Your mom will be so proud of... you..."
What the fuck is wrong with me? This problem is our fault...
At least I can say that I tried. We could have shot down The Grid while the scrambling algorithm was online. But no. The ponies I work for... The fucking psychopaths in charge of TrotWood... They wouldn't do it. They told me they had too much invested in it. They told me that shutting down The Grid would be equivalent to surrendering to 'Threat Alpha'. At least I know what 'The Grid' is; I know what is coming to kill us. They won't even tell me what 'Threat Alpha' is, my clearance isn't high enough. Not that it matters, they aren't about to change their minds for anyone.
She tilted her head, watching me cautiously. "You promise?"
I'm going to Tartarus.
"Yeah, I promise. When you go home... There'll be a big party, and you'll see your mom, and your dad, and all your friends..."
I could be more of a liar. She will see them. Technically. All the time. Everywhere. Along with everyone else.
"Oh... Okay..."
"Come on," I choked, glancing nervously at the security camera. We'd been standing there for quite a while. "We need to go now." I began retracing the steps I had taken to get there, trying to put myself between the filly and the more horrific cells.
"Can I have some ice cream before we go see the doctor?"
It wouldn't hurt. We have enough time. But my orders are strict. I cannot stray off course, I cannot make any unnecessary stops. Anything aside from bringing her to the uplink chamber will be regarded as an act of treason. I'll be jailed without trial. Probably killed on the spot, like so many griffons who had worked here when the Cold War started... I'd be killed if I was lucky, I suppose. I would end up in one of these cells, otherwise; just another experiment.
The only reason I'm not surrounded with armed guards right now is because they know it would frighten her... And I know they'd be on me in 12 seconds if I even thought about compromising the project.
Sometimes I feel like cMARK is reading my thoughts. Or maybe it's The Grid. Or maybe it's something I don't have clearance to know about. If I really focus, as I'm doing now, I can shut it out; or at least I think I can. The sensation is so strange— so unfamiliar, that I really can't be sure. Maybe I'm just ignoring it.
Making an effort to think as little as possible seems to be the only way to keep it away completely, but I've heard of ponies being locked away for what happens in their subconscious. To think, the term 'thought-crimes', in just a few short years, has gone from a laughable term to one that ponies are afraid to even think for fear of retribution.
"Not now... I uh... It's important that we see the doctor now. We can get ice cream later."
I could make a run for it... Every fiber of my being is driving me to save her. Even my self-preservation instincts are being overridden by the disgust and self-hatred induced by leading this filly to her death. I could... The teleporter experiments. The matter-transit department is on the way to the uplink chamber. If I could just bar myself up in there and damage the door controls, I could evacuate her before they could break in...
No... She would die anyway, in the fallout. But... Surely, death is preferable to—
Shit. It really isn't. The pain and suffering that will be unleashed upon the world if Project Purity should fail... There's no choice. Either this child is subjected to a fate worse than death, or every pony, griffon, and dragon alike will suffer. My hooves are tied.
"Th-this way," I choked, leading her around another corner.
Where is he? That stallion from the blue box? Last time we were about to do something this... this wrong, he... He stopped us. He saved us. Our orders were to fire on him— to kill on sight. But I helped him. I helped him escape. Why can't he come back to do the same for me? Why can't he save her? I've seen what he can do— the systems he can hack into— his brilliance! He could take down The Grid on his own. So why isn't he? How could he let this go on?
My pace slowed as I passed the matter-transit department doors, and then I came to a complete stop, looking into the windows to check if there were any others around. The filly stopped by my side, growing more nervous by the second.
I have to say something. The silence is making her uncomfortable and she knows something is wrong. I need to decide now if I'm getting her out of here, because I won't have another chance.
I crouched down to get on her level. "Hey, uh... How're you doing?"
"I- I'm okay..."
She isn't. She's so scared, so hurt...
"You're worried about your mom, huh?"
"I guess..." She replied, bashfully.
"I bet you worry about everypony... You know that everypony's scared..."
"Everypony's afraid of the griffons, but they shouldn't be." She blurted, before looking at me shamefully. She was sure I was going to deride her for her comment, it seems, and I wasn't surprised.
Okay... I'm being watched. And listened to. And if I don't move soon, I'll become the enemy. I've gotta be careful.
"You know what?" I whispered, bringing my face even closer, "I don't think the griffons are so bad either. But you can help them, okay? Do you want to help them?"
She nodded enthusiastically.
"You wanna help everypony, right? You want to make them feel safe?"
Again, she nodded.
"But what if it was scary? What if making everypony safe..." I paused, afraid I was compromising the project, but I had to have the answer, everything else be damned. "What if it hurt?"
Her eyes glistened with sadness and fear. "I... I want to help... No matter what... I don't want ponies and griffons to fight anymore..."
I had figured as much. I hoped that hearing those words would make me feel better about what I was about to do. But it didn't. I felt worse. She was the purest, most beautiful creature I'd ever met in my life, the very embodiment of kindness and generosity.
She really is perfect. Someone of her disposition is ideal to act as the purifier. So perfect, yet so wrong.
"Here," I said, producing a stuffed bear from my satchel. The filly's eyes lit up as she saw it, a little fuzzy bundle of comfort, so different from the harsh, fluorescent-white cell she had spend most of the last week in. "I want you to have this."
She approached it curiously, then picked it up in her mouth, smiling at me. I felt like the devil himself at that moment, so cruel, so dishonest, so very much the opposite of what she was. I gave one last long look at the matter-transit department before moving forward again. "Come on, the doctor's waiting."
I led her into a waiting elevator and turned, pressing the button corresponding to the appropriate floor. As the doors shut, I saw a lone stallion in the distance. Brown coat, brown mane, bow-tie. He was watching me, knowingly, approvingly, but sad. So very sad. He gave one curt nod, and began walking down the hallway away from me, just before the elevator doors slammed shut.
That was him, wasn't it? The stallion from before... He knows. He knows what's about to happen, but he can't stop it, just like I can't.
After a brief and rapid upward movement, the elevator doors pulled themselves open, revealing the uplink room. The one place in the world that can contact The Grid, the only place where we can patch the last system we still have access to— the only hope we have to prevent all life on Earth from being erased by the most powerful weapons ever devised. I passed Starswirl on my way in, his passive face devoid of any discernible emotion, his eyes slowly following the filly as she walked by. A few of the researchers murmured as the filly followed me.
It's the bear. They're talking about the bear.
That thought felt weird. I'm not sure if it felt that way because something was reading my mind, or if the thought itself was implanted.
A technician followed behind the filly and I as we approached a table in the center of a grand circular room. Unlike the harsh uneven lighting upstairs, this room was lit with a very consistent warm light, one so even that it almost prevented shadows from forming underneath you. All around us were heavily shielded metal cables, hanging like vines from many varied electrical and magical devices.
The table in the middle was designed for a pony to lay back on it, attached to a massive scanning device much akin to an MRI machine one might find in a hospital. In appearance, at least. There was a key difference in the operation, one which I preferred not to think about at that moment. The important part, for the sake of the operation, at least, was the dramatically improved spatial resolution. I looked down at the filly, and she looked up at me. Without my even having to ask her, she jumped up onto the table willingly.
"Lay back, please... relax..." I requested, giving her my hoof for comfort, allowing her to hug the bear with her other arm.
This would be easier if she were hostile— I could sedate her... I wouldn't have to casually lead her to her demise...
The technician placed a metal cage around her head, tightening down some screws that would hold her steady for the vital moments to come. She glanced at me, frightened, and I gave the best smile I could muster back, holding her hoof a little more tightly. She squeezed my hoof equally tight in response.
The technician proceeded with the operation protocol, adding the torso cage, positioning the prime mana node matrix over her heart. He then placed a few electrodes around her ribcage, and the equipment nearby began monitoring her heart rate, breathing, and magic output.
I stayed there for a few moments, staring into her eyes, before the technician cleared his throat. It was time.
"Your mom's going to be okay... Everyone's going to be okay. Thank you. Thank you."
She smiled at me, still clearly worried, still scared, but smiling. I didn't deserve that smile. I didn't deserve to be in her good graces.
"Dr. Pruitt, is everything ready?"
"Yes," I replied, trying my best to hide my emotion. Seeing the filly on that table, so innocent, deserving nothing less than a full and beautiful life, being condemned to this... Holding my daughter's toy...
What if it was my daughter there? Would I still be able to throw the switch? Could I do something so terrible to my own flesh and blood?
I wanted to scream 'no'. I wanted to cry out in protest. But it would do no good. Someone else would do it in my place, and I would probably be murdered on the spot. I retreated to behind some shielding panes, where a console waited for me, and the stage closed itself off to prevent interference. The pony to my right wore a very serious expression, seemingly unfazed by what he was about to do. We looked at each other and nodded, before turning to face our own respective consoles. I inserted my key, turned it 90° counter clockwise in synchronization with the other stallion. A red flashing LED on the panel indicated that we had successfully activated the system.
Terminal code streamed across the interface, too fast and too technical for me to have understood. Finally, it prompted me for my username and password, which I provided.
The stallion across the room loaded up the personality construct upload software and set the options, and my console provided me with a confirmation prompt.
This operation will utilize 715YB of disk space, and displace the prior personality construct. Are you sure you want to continue? [y,n]
Presented so casually, as if those are the most critical deciding factors in this moment...
I typed a 'y', and hesitated over the 'enter' key. The other stallion glared at me expectantly. I looked up at the filly, then back down to the key. I shut my eyes and pressed it.
I could hear the massive servos pulling the filly into the scanner. No matter how much I tried to put it out of my mind, I could feel her panic. I knew what was coming. I hoped she wouldn't scream. Please, please, don't let her scream.
It should have ended by now. She didn't—
My eyes clenched as the filly cried out in pain and terror, her body flooded with hot, burning, magical particles, tearing her apart, cell-by cell. The screaming stopped as suddenly as it began, when an insufficient amount of brain matter remained intact to carry on the task. I know she would have been incapable of feeling anything that could be called 'suffering' for longer than two seconds, but even that was too long.
I subjected her to it. I did it. I'm a monster.
Maybe The Grid was right. Maybe we do deserve to die. But there's no time left to make that call. I saved us all from that fate by becoming the very worst of us. What if there were more like her? What if everyone was like her? How beautiful would that world be? How perfect? How pure? There would be no Grid. No cMARK. No wars.
"The Grid has stopped its brute-force attack on the weapon-system encryption!" A stallion announced as he turned away from a monitor. Every pony in the room jumped up and began clapping and stamping the floor with excitement, seemingly unconcerned with the cost they had just payed to reach that end.
Today I'll go home. I'll see my wife, my kids... I'll tell them we did it. We saved the world again. They'll cheer for me, hug me, kiss me, call me a hero. A lie. A sad lie. I'm a monster. TrotWood made me that way. And I'll never be able to go back. I'll never be right again. Never be healthy. I'm so sad. So sick. So wrong. I don't deserve to live.
I shut my eyes, tears rolling down my cheeks, and her face was suddenly before me, as though it was burned into my eyelids. I never wanted to see her again. I never wanted to remember. But she was still smiling. That same smile she gave me from the scanner table. The same smile she wore when I handed her the bear. That same, beautiful, peaceful smile.
"You're welcome."
markrecall: End memory sequence AE02FF2387E—0009387462837462
cMARK: ~ admin$
