(Old) Obsolescence

Chapters

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Chapter 1

Obsolescence

Chapter 1.0

My brain felt like a computer after somepony had taken a magnet to it. I was quite convinced that my eyes had been replaced with static snow, and whatever moan might have escaped my lips must have been a crackling white noise. The low, muffled bass drops of a demonic dubstep beat buzzed about my ears, evidence of another all-nighter. Furthering this evidence were the scattered, crumpled remains of several cans of Chaos Cola, ‘guaranteed to give you just the kind of temporary insanity you need to stay sane.’ Too bad I was pretty sure that last part was faulty advertising.

I stretched my short little legs and let out a yawn that, on a bigger pony, would've put a manticore's roar to shame. Coming from me, it was more like the yowl of an agitated house cat.

"Good morning, Neverwas," I greeted myself. "Better get up before you miss another day full of sunshine and rainbows in the greatest city in Equestria.”

I snorted.

The world was slowly swimming into focus. My dimly-lit, 'economy'-sized apartment began to light up as the glowsprites realized I was awake. Fluttering their tiny, transparent wings, the genetically engineered parasprites drifted lazily down from their perch on the ceiling roosts. Their bioluminescence chased away a few of the weaker shadows, but the deeper folds of darkness merely retreated to the corners, biding their time till nightfall.

When I'd first bought them, the pair of glowsprites had been able to light up the whole room with ease. Either I wasn't feeding them enough or they were reaching the end of their short lifespans. Probably both.

“Morning,” I mumbled to the only pets hardy enough not to die on me of anything other than planned obsolescence. Truth be told, it probably came out more as a grumbled “Mmrgnphm.”

I shook my head to clear the fog from my mind as I dropped from where I’d been hanging from the ceiling. I trudged to the bathroom, the glowsprites cheeping and chittering impatiently as I passed by their food dish.

"You'll get your breakfast after I lose last night's drinks," I snapped at them. They refused to follow me inside, prompting a sigh. Perhaps a bribe would work? "Fine, have it your way, but I guess that means there'll be no extra treat for you come dinnertime."

They turned to face each other and chirped amongst themselves. Finally, they faced me again, and both promptly stuck out their glowing tongues and blew two big, wet razzberries at me.

Bucking smartflanks, I mentally chuckled. They knew me too well. I suppose even a pair of spliced parasprites could recognize that I didn't have the bits to pay for my own food, let alone an extra dose of theirs. Looks like I'll have to try an alternative tactic.

"Fine..." I scoffed with mock exasperation, unable to hide my smile at what was coming next. "How about if I played your favorite song?"

The winged light bulbs' faces literally lit up as their tiny bodies split with an all-encompassing grin. Their chirrups and cheers turned into excited squeaks.

"Listen up, 'cause if you weren't so damn cute I'd never touch that horrid song," I laughed. I whistled the all-too-familiar polka tune as I trotted to the toilet and went about my business. According to the local Harmonist temple, the song was a hymn to Pinkie Pie, Goddess of Laughter, and had been used to soothe a savage swarm of hungry parasprites before they could eat the world.

Looking at these little suckers, I couldn't imagine they'd be able to hurt anypony, much less threaten to eat the world. How much worse could their natural-born ancestors have been?

Finished with relieving myself, I washed my hooves and trotted back into the apartment's main room, finally awake enough to check the progress of last night's work. I plopped down on an old second-hoof beanbag chair and pressed the touchscreen amulet around my neck. As the charm chip inside sent a connection spell to the Net, a holographic screen popped out into the air in front of me.

The screen produced its own light, being literally made of nothing but light, so the glowsprites dimmed and resumed their perches. I air-typed through a few sequences, scrolling through my browser pages until I found the Enforcer's local Rim-based communications network. There was a loading bar in the bottom right-hoof corner, nearly full. The caption read 'Upload 92% complete, 8.4 hours remaining.'

"Eight hours?" I stated, scowling. "I needed that file uploaded by this morning! What the Tartarus am I supposed to do for eight hours?!"

A chirping from my left alerted me to the glowsprites again, hovering around the nearly-empty bag of their food. At least I knew what they hoped I would spend the beginning of the day doing.

Sighing, but grinning in spite of myself, I trotted over and extended one of my leathery wings. As a lunar pegasus, my wings were more like those of a bat than those of a bird. Though this meant I wasn’t as fast as a feathery-winged ‘normal’ pegasus, it also meant I had claws on the arches of my wings. Just like those of actual bats, these hooked, thumb-like appendages were infinitely useful, almost on par with a unicorn’s ability to telekinetically manipulate objects. Catching the tip of the bag in the one of my claws, I flipped the bag of SpriteBits over and poured the remaining synthesized foodstuffs into the bowl.

As the glowsprites dug hungrily into their breakfast, I sat back on my beanbag chair and contemplated what to do until my latest, uh, project was uploaded. When it was finished, I could buy the glowsprites (and myself, for that matter) all the food they wanted... At least until the accounts ran dry again and I had to upload another project. Before that happened, though, I might have to relocate. I'd been in this apartment for two weeks already, and I had the sneaking suspicion the Enforcers in this subsector were beginning to realize not all of their recent computer problems were, strictly speaking, glitches. Especially after that last one, where I had impersonated the Enforcer's Chief and instructed a whole squad to hoof over their own food stamps to an orphanage... And a few to me, of course.

Despite it all, though, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that my little projects weren't big enough. Sure, the bigger the way I messed with the Rim's local law enforcement, the more risk I had of being caught. Even out here on the Rim of Canterlot Proper, you did not want to be caught by the Enforcers, especially for cyber crimes. Never mind that I was doing a public service that the so-called 'servants of the populace, protectors of peace' should have been doing themselves. All that mattered to them was that I was lessening their iron grip on the citizens, citizens the Enforcers saw as stepping stones.

I shuddered as my mind drifted to what the Enforcers would do if they did catch me. I'd heard stories from the few online circles I deemed safe enough to frequent. Torture was putting it lightly; it was no secret the Enforcers used mind-reading technology for information extraction. Pain of the flesh was one thing. It was quite another to literally rape your brain with dark magic.

Yeah, as soon as this project was over, I was definitely moving. Maybe a nice spot at the other end of Canterlot Proper, still on the Rim, but far enough from this branch of the Enforcers that they wouldn't recognize my tactics. It'd be a longer journey, even by subway, but skirting the Rim would be better than taking the direct route through the Center of the district.

If I thought it was bad here, I didn't even want to know what it was like where the Enforcers had even more power. Twitchy Tails, one of my correspondents from online, had been there once. He'd been lucky to escape with his sanity intact. Then again, whether he actually had kept his sanity was always up for debate...

I shook my head again, jamming the unpleasant thoughts in a filing cabinet at the back of my mind. I then proceeded to reduce that cabinet to ash with a heavy-duty flamethrower.

But enough about the Enforcers. I'd have to think about them plenty when my latest file uploaded into their local server. For now, I had eight hours to kill.

What to do, what to do...

My stomach grumbled. Ah, yes, breakfast would be nice. Trotting over to the small kitchenette, I opened the cupboards one-by-one with my wing-claws. Unsurprisingly, there was little to be found besides crumpled, empty plastic bags and dry soda cans. Oh, and a few roaches. Scowling in disgust, I closed the cupboards and flipped the recycling switch. The familiar hum of mechanical plates crushing the trash, and the satisfying crunch of the crushed bugs, told me that my cupboards were once again ready to be filled.

The only problem was, how exactly would I do that? I’d already used the last of my food stamps last night. I wouldn’t have enough credits in my account to purchase more until my latest project was uploaded. Forging food stamps was out of the question; I was a hacker, not an artist.

Though I did know somepony who was...

No, not her, I mentally moaned. Not again.

I didn't really need to eat today, right? It wouldn't exactly be the first time I'd gone hungry, though willingly giving up the possibility of food in Canterlot Proper was unheard of. Rations were low enough as it was ever since the last trade agreement with New Everfree went south.

You'd never believe it if you heard the newscasts the Council pumped out regularly over the Net for all obedient citizens of Canterlot Proper. According to the impossibly happy (and most likely computer-generated) news hosts on the government channel, the other District was 'selfishly hoarding an over-abundance of food the Council had already paid for with the taxes of honest citizens.'

One, I knew for a fact that the Council never paid for anything. All taxes went to fund the very way taxes were collected—through the brute force of the Enforcers, the Council's personal army. Thus, I also knew that New Everfree had simply refused to give into the Council's demands, and for once they had gotten away with it. The Enforcers may have been the most lethal law enforcement in Equestria before the Crash, but that didn't mean they could win every fight with our next-door neighbors. If I wasn't so hungry, I'd toast to New Everfree's good health for standing up to those brutal bastards. Then again, in order to do that I'd also need wine, which I'd never been able to afford even with stolen food stamps.

Oh, well. Maybe some day I'd help overthrow the Council in a glorious revolution of the people, or at the very least figure out how to hop the border to New Everfree or one of the other Districts without getting killed by either side. Yeah, right. If there was one rule everypony in Canterlot Proper knew, it was that nopony leaves Canterlot Proper.

My stomach grumbled again.

"Fine, you win!" I sighed, putting my hooves up in defeat, knowing I would regret this. "If it'll shut you up I'll go see her."

I said goodbye to the still-feasting glowsprites, promising them that mama would be home with tasty treats soon. They simply snorted at me. They may have been bucking smartflanks, but they were my bucking smartflanks.

Slipping out the door, I cantered down the dimly-lit hallway. I tried my best to tell myself I was in a hurry so that I could get this over with quickly, not so that I wouldn't have time to come to my senses and return to the relative safety of my apartment. I wasn't any more at risk for getting on the Enforcer's bad side than anypony else in the Rim, mind you, so long as my hacks remained untraceable. No, that wasn't the problem here. This was one of those rare instances where it wasn't the Enforcers that frightened me. Even they were more than a little reluctant to go where I was going.

Normally I wouldn't even dare to venture to my current destination, so don't think I'm risking my neck just to get some breakfast. I hadn't eaten all day yesterday— or the day before that—and I knew all too well that even hackers can't go on without food indefinitely. All my recent stock of food stamps were able to buy me was a steady supply of Chaos Cola. That, and some pirated music, was all that had kept me going these past few days. The last meal I'd eaten (if you could even call it that) had been a hoof-full of synthesized food chips a few days ago, and I hadn't had much before that either. Such was the life of a lower-class resident of Canterlot Proper.

I needed to get some food, and I wasn't sure I could wait till my project was done uploading to get it. If I encountered any undesirable attention, I wouldn’t exactly be the best at fleeing in my current state.

I rode the elevator down to the lobby of the apartment complex in silence with about thirty other ponies, all jam-packed into the tiny room. It would've been rather awkward, all of us stuffed in there with nothing to say, if I wasn't too preoccupied with how uncomfortable my seat was. The synthesized fabrics covering the foamy seat of my chair hadn't been replaced in who knew how many years, and the seatbelts had all but rotted away. We literally fell a little bit above our chairs when the elevator descended. And don't get my started on the smell.

I hadn't taken a shower myself that morning, but that was only because I hadn't been able to pay my water bill that month. The water would still flow, but it wouldn't be treated to rid it of all the toxic pollutants that generally poisoned our District's water supply. At best, I would get sick. At worst, acid would melt my skin off.

For obvious reasons, I wasn't that much in the mood for gambling. The toilet only continued to work because it took organic waste and recycled it. It was a necessary process. When Canterlot Proper was this sequestered from the world, we had to make do with what we'd already thrown away. Cleaning my hooves was water-free, consisting only of basic sanitizer.

When the elevator touched down at the ground floor, nearly sending me through the floor in the process, I rode the wave of other ponies as they shuffled out into the lobby. Every pony scurried away as swiftly as possible, not even making eye contact. The other tenants of my apartment complex were almost as untrusting as I was, and I knew they had reason to be.

I had to live in such a run-down and poorly maintained section of Canterlot Proper because here I was less likely to be detected. This close to the Outer Wall, all the magical interference from the other Districts made it all the more difficult to track hackers through the Net. At least, that’s what I tried to convince myself was the case, and not that I only lived here because this was the best I could afford.

I sighed, looking up through the lobby windows at the other drenched skyscrapers of the Rim. As towering as they were, they were nothing compared to the monoliths in the Center. Even so, the penthouses topping these arcane structures were far better than anything I’d ever been used to enjoying. What’s more, those who lived there had more than just the credits to afford such places; they had the power to ensure they stayed there. They had the power to control their own lives, craft their own destinies, not squirm under the iron horseshoe of the Council...or at least, less so than the rest of us.

But I knew I would never live in such a place myself. I looked down at my petite body (and petite was putting it lightly), noting how utterly small it was compared to literally anypony else roaming the lobby. Only the best of the best could make it to the top, and they usually looked like they deserved it. I looked like I belonged in school.

Shaking my head to dispel such thoughts, I wove my way through the crowd and stopped just short of the front doors. It was raining again, and hard. Chocolate milk, poisoned by magical pollutants and toxins, rained from sickly-pink cotton candy clouds high above even the tallest buildings. Steam sizzled from the sidewalks and asphalt where the weighty drops struck.

As much as this was going to hurt my unprotected skin, at least with all this free liquid, the District’s water management division would be able to lower the price of water rations. That didn’t mean they would lower the prices, just that they could afford to do so. All in all, it was better than nothing.

Taking a deep breath and squinting my eyes, I dashed out into the street. The acid chocolate milk rain stung my skin with every drop, the wind blowing it into my eyes. I clenched my teeth; already I could feel the industrial waste caught in the raindrops penetrating my hide. I felt like I was about to vomit up whatever Chaos Cola I hadn’t already lost.

I prayed to whatever Goddess I favored at the moment that nopony else would be using the Transmutation Booth. I supposed I should have been praying to Rainbow Dash, Goddess of weather, but as far as I was concerned she’d never really shown much in the way of actually doing her job. I’d read about other types of weather just like everypony else; in the olden days before the Crash, it hadn’t always been cloudy, and it hadn’t rained nearly ninety percent of the time. What good was a Goddess if she didn’t clear the clouds away every once and a while and give us some sunlight?

I’d never even seen the Sun outside of historical pictures on the Net. We knew it was still there, warming Equestria from high above the omnipresent cotton candy clouds that constantly smothered Canterlot, but I’d never once caught so much as a glimpse of it. The only way to tell if it was day or night was the intensity of the gloom.

With a CLANG, I ran straight into the Transmutation Booth. Looking up at the rusty old cylindrical pod, I praised all the Goddesses at once that the booth was unoccupied. I slammed my hoof onto the button to open the pod’s doors and all but threw myself inside. I flung the acidic chocolate milk off my hide with a vigorous shake and simply stood there for a few moments, trying to regain my composure. Some days it was worse than others, but on a day like today, standing out in that torrent for too long could be lethal. The short gallop from the lobby to the booth right outside had been painful and sickening enough on its own; I couldn’t imagine what a prolonged exposure would be like. I knew the hospitals were always full of ponies who had been soaked too thoroughly, but I had no plan of joining them.

As the worst of the burns finally began to cool, or at least feel somewhat numb, I began typing away at the booth’s control panel. Most ponies who used the Transmutation Booths, technology ‘imported’ from New Everfree, had an actual account with the proxy company that oversaw the foreign tech. This proxy company, GeneTech, was privatized by the Council, and thus was basically just another branch of the government. This meant that though their public goal was to ‘provide the citizens of Canterlot Proper with organic technology,’ their private mission was always to further the Council’s control over the populace.

However, the Council had made one rather noticeable mistake in their subsidizing of GeneTech; it received no federal funding. All of the proxy company’s funds had to come from what they made off of the public, and in this regard it acted very much like any other company. They cut corners, going out of their way to make as much money as possible at the cost of absolute control over their clients. Sure, they tried their best to have just that, but even if a client refused to cooperate with their policies, they still wanted that client’s money. Because of this, I didn’t have to have an account to use the booth.

After the booth’s monitor’s initial startup sequence led me to the menu screen, I signed in as a guest. Hackers like myself never used our real identities if we could help it, and we cheated to make sure we could always help it. At least, that’s how I assumed every other hacker worked—I’d never met another one, and I also assumed that’s because most of us were smart enough to keep our heads down in public. I say 'most' because the newscast always had at least one hacker arrested on the latest crime report. Poor bastards.

No use worrying about them now, though. At least there was a positive side; the steady flow of hackers arrested was evidence that there was always somepony out there who didn't ask "How high?" when the Council ordered "Jump." Additionally, the arrests gave me further motivation to not join those poor souls.

This is what brought me to the Transmutation Booth. The guests at these things were given fewer options, just enough to whet your appetite and encourage you to upgrade to membership. The prices were also higher than normal... if you weren't a hacker.

I infiltrated federal law enforcement maneframes for a living; hacking corporate code, even if it was privatized, was a piece of cake.

Tapping my touchscreen amulet once more, I brought up the 'settings' page and scrolled through the options till I reached 'connect with local device.' Selecting that option, I waited for my amulet's preprogrammed viruses to eat their way through the other machine's firewalls. With how low-quality the security of these mass-produced booths were, it only took a few seconds for me to gain control. I even had a program customized just for this booth, though I was confident I could hack most of the booths in Canterlot Proper. Well, at least the other booths on the Rim, if I had time...

Ping.

I looked up at the screen, scowling slightly that I had to look up just to interface with a monitor set at the average pony's height.

'Welcome to GeneTech Transmutation Booth #342,' the screen read. 'Thank you for purchasing a Gold Level Premium Master Membership for 0.00 credits.'

I grinned mischievously. I always loved this, the thrill of sifting through the mind of a machine and turning it from the side of my enemies into my ally. It was almost like making a new friend. Or at least, it's what I imagined making a new friend would be like. The life of a hacker might have been exciting (and dangerous), but it was also a lonely one.

'What designer genes would you like to purchase today?' the machine inquired. A list of options appeared, all with prices reduced to '0.00:'

-coat recoloration

-eye recoloration/adjustment

-height alteration

-weight alteration

-mane/tail recoloration/styling

-body type alteration

-gender reversal

-pheromone adjustment/sex appeal

-exotic options

I eyed the 'height alteration' option greedily, but decided against it. I'd gone as a tall mare far too many times lately. When you were in disguise, even if that disguise was your own skin, it paid to be random. For once, I decided to stick with my original height and body-type. Heck, I could even keep my white coat—but I was definitely doing something about my mane and tail.

Normally I kept them both shaggy and short, which was as good a style as any in my opinion. However, the fact that both my mane and tail were as white as my coat definitely made me stick out in a crowd. Oh, and my white irises. And hooves. And wings. Aw, screw it; everything about me was white, okay? Don't ask why. If I knew, I'd get it fixed.

Sometimes, when I was feeling more religious, I'd curse the Goddesses for making me whiter than an albino (even they had color in their eyes). When I wasn't, I'd blame genetics, or maybe wonder if my mother had taken some harmful product when pregnant with me. If that was the case, and it was a rather likely possibility, then I was lucky to be alive. Still, not having any sort of definitive characteristic other than my raw undefined-ness didn't exactly make me feel very normal. Don't get me wrong, in a world where 'normal' was fearful conformity, being abnormal was exactly what I strived to be as a hacker. Being nonconformist in a society and being a freak to your own species are two different things, though.

Thus, I selected the mane and tail option and chose a shade of leaf-green, with a few streaks of darker emerald. To match this, I went for a jade eye hue.

Next, I looked back at my blank flank and bit my lip. Not even genetic engineering could alter somepony's cutie mark, but I had never had a cutie mark to alter. Sure, it had bothered me as a kid—okay, it still bothered me—but I'd long ago given up on the hope that my flank would ever be anything other than a bright white. It was just the way I was, and as much as I hated it even more than my all-white appearance, I had come to the conclusion that I could let it bother me endlessly or ignore it and live my life. I still scowled whenever somepony took my slight stature and featureless butt to mean I was just a filly. Then again, playing as one had gotten me out of a tight jam on more than once, so I figured I shouldn't complain. Or, I should only complain when and only when it really, really irked me.

Nevertheless, I wasn't concerned with getting a false cutie mark, even if such a thing were possible. I just had to figure out how I was going to hide the fact that I didn't have one. My wings hid some of my flank, but not all of it, and I couldn't afford any fancy clothes to cover up. I'd hidden my blankness with a holographic glamour a few times, but a keen eye could see through the weak spells I could afford.

As you can see with all the trouble it took just to go out, I didn't go outside much.

Hmm... Perhaps I could lengthen my wings? No, that'd make flying too awkward, and I might need to book it if things went south, which they very likely could. Maybe if I did something special to another part of myself, nobody would even bother noticing my blank flank?

Feeling a little guilty yet curious at the same time, I selected ‘Pheromone Adjustment/Sex Appeal.’ After scrolling through the options there, it became apparent that most of them dealt with my flanks anyway. Exiting that, my eye caught ‘Exotic Options.’

It couldn’t hurt to look, right?

Entering the submenu, I beheld what I could add to the pony body that didn't, strictly speaking, belong on a pony. Everything from gills to beaks was on here. I’d almost always strayed away from such options because I sought to attract as little attention as possible. You mostly just saw articles like these on counterculture enthusiasts and the occasional streetpunk. But why not go as one, at least for the day? Now that I thought about it, there were enough in Canterlot Proper, even out in the Rim, that one more probably wouldn’t be too noticeable.

I selected a faint dusting of purple scales that would really only be apparent in certain patches, namely my flanks. In addition to disguising me, the natural plating should protect me from the brunt of the acid rain. Furthermore, if I was going for the punkish look, why not give myself dragon eyes to boot? I even restyled my mane and tail option into a spiky mohawk and a jagged zig-zag.

All I’d need now is a leather jacket to complete the look, I mentally chuckled. Who knew? Maybe I could start my own gang and we could call ourselves the Spikers.

Satisfied with how the pony on the monitor looked—essentially a more draconic version of myself—I hit the ‘Apply Changes’ button. A vent at the top of the booth opened, and a gaseous cloud began hissing out of it.

I breathed in deeply, intaking the cloud through my nostrils, already feeling the tingling as the transmutation magic went to work.

Chapter 2

Obsolescence

Chapter 2.0:

The default setting on transmutation magic was a tingling sensation that spread throughout your body. However, like almost everything else about Transmutation Booths, this sensation was customizable. You could feel everything from a pleasant warmth to sedate numbness to even a tickling sensation as the magic went about its work.

There was even an option for, disgustingly enough, arousal, but I preferred to reserve intimate romance for an actual pony rather than a machine. Not that anypony had ever actually looked at me with any such thoughts, mind you. Aside from the dangers a relationship would pose to my hacking career, I’d be creeped out if somepony actually did take an interest in me. After all, who wouldn’t be creeped out by a stallion who’s attracted to a mare with the equivalent of an older foal’s body?

Of course, it would be nice to be seen as something other than a child. However, I’d learned to file that away with ‘trustworthy governments’ and over myths.

As the tingles settled, I looked at my reflection in the chrome of the booth. My flesh wasn't still shifting, so the changes were set for the time being. I observed what the spawn of a dragon and a pony might look like. For all anypony knew, I might as well have been a genetic engineering project smuggled in from New Everfree. Given with how that wasn't exactly an uncommon sight in Canterlot Proper, I didn't think that would cause too much of a problem.

I must admit, there was a certain sort of flair to the exotic look of lavender scales on a pony’s body, dragon-green eyes looking out from where those of a lunar pegasus’ would normally peer. If I didn’t have to remain random, I might like to try this disguise again sometime.

Now, however, came the tricky part. Taking a deep breath and bracing myself, I pressed the ‘open’ button on the booth’s door and stepped out into the rain. It sizzled off my scaly hide, but despite the heat it was akin to little more than standing under an unpleasantly hot shower. I’d prefer that to getting eaten alive bit by bit by acid any day.

I grinned in spite of myself; I could get used to this.

Trotting out into the street, I wove my way through the crowded sidewalks, careful not to venture near any of the puddles near the main road. I may have been resistant to the drops of acid raining from the sky, but that didn’t mean I would be immune to small tsunamis of the stuff splashed up by passing motor wagons. Days like this really made you thankful for healing spells, even if they were expensive as Tartarus. At least it didn’t rain this heavily all the time.

Thankfully, I only received a few odd stares as I hurried block by block towards my destination. I needed to get there as quickly as possible. Genetic modifications didn’t last long, and I really didn’t want to be caught in this downpour far from any more booths.

My destination wasn't all that far from my apartment complex, really, but the old buildings out on the Rim were little better than a labyrinth. I remembered how many times I’d gotten lost in the maze when I first moved to the Rim. Back then, I’d just dropped out of school (or rather, escaped school), deciding I’d rather be a hacker full-time. Better that than a Council-approved computer technician like the school system had planned.

You'd think flying would have been faster, and without the downpour of acid rain it normally would have been. However, most buildings were tall enough that for the most part it wouldn't matter. The towers striking up into the poisonous clouds above made Canterlot Proper just as much a labyrinth in the air as it was on the ground. Besides, on the ground my thinner, less-protected wings wouldn’t get as much exposure. Furthermore, I wouldn't have to worry about the insanely fast aerial vehicles.

The plus side to the twists and turns of bustling bodies and chipped, nearly-crumbling stone and steel towers, though, was that it gave me plenty of time to think. Then again, thinking too much would allow me to come to my senses and flee back to the relative safety of my apartment, so perhaps it was a bit of a paradox rather than a straight plus. I somehow had to think of anything besides where I was going, except when I needed to in order to remember how to get there...

Ugh, why does a simple food run have to be so complicated?!

Well, at least I could preoccupy myself with what I was going to eat. Food chips were definitely out of the question. Chaos Cola, as much as it helped me through all-nighters, was also off the menu. There was only so much caffeine a girl could take, after all.

What I was craving was something organic. Something pure, fresh, unsynthesized. In most places in Canterlot Proper, such a foodstuff was just as mythical as me getting a date. However, the mare I was going to see was one of the few capable of making that a reality. The food, I mean. Not the date.

I could just imagine it now—being able to sink my teeth into a hooffull of crisp carrots or a bouquet of flowers. I was salivating just thinking about it, and my stomach let out another rumble.

“Shut up, will you!” I demanded with a groan. “We’re almost there.”

I felt a shudder as I passed under the archway that marked the unofficial boundaries to ‘her’ small kingdom. Truth be told, it didn’t look that different from any other place out in the Rim—rain-soaked pre-Crash buildings that would never be renovated, gruff and grim ponies avoiding making eye contact, and bunch of neon signs broadcasting everything from robotic augmentation clinics to memory depositories.

Nevertheless, I could feel the stares of ponies on the back of my neck, and they weren’t staring at me because of my draconic appearance. In this neighborhood, you either paid tribute to the local gang lord or you were an outsider.

Despite the wary, warning eyes of the populace, I couldn't resist enjoying the smells wafting out of homes and restaurants along the way. Here was a small bastion of refuse from the Council, so long as you recognized the absolute authority of the mare I was going to see. Thus, as long as the Council didn’t come down on it full-force, it could enjoy delicious genetically-pure produce without having to worry about the Enforcers snatching it away for the organic tax.

May the Goddesses have mercy on these poor ponies’ souls should the Council ever take a less lax approach to governing the Rim than they did the rest of the District, however.

At long last, I met the remains of what, in its prime, must have been a beautiful building. It still served as a Harmonist temple, at least on the above-ground levels. Its basement had long ago been converted into something a little less legal than a place of worship for the District’s dominant faith.

I half-smiled at the statues of the Goddesses themselves as I trotted up the steps. Even with almost a century of wear and tear from acid rain, they still looked as regal, as confident, as...happy...as ever. If they really did exist and had once walked Equestria, I envied the ponies who had been able to live in their presence.

Pushing my way through the temple’s large double doors, I walked into a huge, dark, empty room...and heard a click as a gun was pressed to my skull.

“Password?” inquired a stallion’s voice.

“I’m not local,” I said, trying my best to keep my voice even. “I came to see Daisy May. I’m an...old friend?”

“Oh, really?” the stallion chuckled. I started to look at at him, only to have my head shoved with the gun. “Don't turn ‘round. I might believe you about ol’ Daisy...if’n she had any friends. Seein’ as nopony told me you was comin’, I figures you might be an undercover Enforcer!”

“I’m not one of those pigs,” I asserted, adding a bit of anger into my voice. Despite my best efforts, though, a cold sweat began seeping out between my scales. This wasn't right—Daisy always personally inspected anypony brave enough or foalish enough to enter her abode. Did I just have the dumb luck to stumble in on a new recruit? “Daisy will want to see me. That’s her policy. You don’t want to find out what happens to ponies who break her policy, do you?”

“Policy’s changed,” he said. “New orders are ta’, as we say, dispose of anypony nosy.”

“You aren't going to shoot me in a temple, are you?” I chuckled. The cold sweat had to be visible now. “There’s a special circle of Tartarus reserved for those who desecrate holy ground.”

“Funny thing about that,” the stallion said. “I never was the religious type. Though seein’ as we is in a temple, why don’t you make yer final words a nice little prayer?”

This didn’t look good. I was not about to overpower him in a fight or flee him before he could shoot me, but I was getting pretty close to trying anyway. Desperation was making however slim a chance I had of clocking him with a well-placed buck all the more attractive.

“Well, uh...” I said, racking my brain for the longest prayer I knew to stall him while I thought of a better idea. “Twilight, Goddess of Magic, I pray to thee—”

“Too late!” the stallion laughed. “BANG!”

I jumped in fright before a raucous guffawing assaulted my ears, and it was not coming from the stallion.

“You should see your face!” chortled the voice of a mare. I recognized it all too well. “Priceless!”

“Hello, Daisy May,” I grumbled. Turning around, I beheld the sunny-yellow unicorn herself wiping tears from her eyes with the same gun she’d almost used to give me a lead lobotomy. Purple scales for protection or not, I couldn't have survived a shot at point-blank range. The bullet would have gone straight through my spiny mane and out through my draconic eyes.

When it came to Daisy, my disguise didn’t matter in more ways than just being useless against bullets. Likely the only reason she’d messed with me at all was because she knew it was me. Though thankfully this wasn't a common occurrence, Daisy could pick me out of a crowd no matter what skin I wore. Most would all it a keen eye or a sophisticated detection spell. I just called it creepy.

Daisy’s laugh rose and fell a few octaves as she chortled on. I saw the touchscreen amulet she was wearing, a homemade version by the looks of it, that must have created the illusion of her male voice.

After telekinetically holstering her gun in a pouch strapped to her foreleg and turning her voice-illusion off for good, the middle-aged mare threw a hoof over my shoulders and yanked me close for a noogie.

“Neverwas!” she said. I’ll never know how she could always see through my disguises, but at least with her I didn’t have to worry about being turned into the Enforcers. She hated them even more than I did. At least, I hoped I didn’t have to worry about that... “There never was a mare I wanted to see more! Though first, I gotta’ ask, what brings you to my humble abode? No, wait, lemme’ guess—you’re here for drugs. Feel the need for some Rewind? Maybe a snort of Stardust? Or do you want sex? We've got some new gigolo programs in the VR pods downstairs. Or maybe—”

“No, thank you, Daisy May,” I interrupted, pulling away from her and shaking my head to get my mane back in order. “You know I’m not interested in becoming one of your junkies or playing ‘plot twist’ with a virtual stallion. I’m here for food, same as always.”

“You’re no fun, you know that?” Daisy said, trotting towards the back of the room. In its prime, it must have been a worship area. According to my understanding, Daisy still kept the temple stocked with Harmonist ministers, but the sanctuary had fallen into disarray decades ago. Even most of the stained glass windows were cracked. “Even I love me some simulated nasty now and again. Were else are you going to find the perfect stallion than in virtual reality?”

“I’d prefer somepony who isn't made up of ones and zeroes, thank you,” I said as I followed her, trying not to let my voice sound too scoffing. Daisy May might have acted like a prankster teenager, but I’d learned the hard way that you couldn't let her act fool you. I knew not to press her too far.

“The only hot tail on the Rim free of Enforcers and you turn it down,” Daisy muttered as we headed through a door at the back of the sanctuary. “Whatever. Besides, I’m glad you’re here. I've been waiting for you for a few days now. I’d have sent somepony to fetch you, but you never let me know where you’re staying.”

“Do you blame me?” I asked with a nervous chuckle. What in the world could she need that required me specifically? I had done hacking for her before, but surely there were plenty of other hackers she could use?

Daisy merely laughed again before her horn lit up. She pulled the lever on the wall of the small room we’d entered, and with a lurching motion the elevator began descending. I tried not to show my discomfort. Despite being a lunar pegasus, I’d never much liked it underground, especially when I’d be in close quarters with the likes of Daisy and her gangbangers. I don’t know how my ancestors handled it in their caves during Equestria’s ancient period.

“What exactly is it you want me to do?” I asked as we descended, both fearing and eager to hear her answer. On the one hoof, I wasn't so keen on learning what kind of favors Daisy May would ask. On the other, if I played my cards right, I might just walk out of here with a cartload of my very own fresh, natural produce.

“You’ll see,” she replied with a toothy grin. I tried not to shiver.

With another lurch, we arrived in what amounted to a palace in Daisy May’s kingdom. Fine Neighponese rugs covered the metal floors of the temple’s basement while silk drapes hung from the walls. Glowsprites chittered as they chased each other down the halls. None of it could really cover up the smell of dank metal and drugs, though.

Even so, there was still the succulent smell of ripe tomatoes...

“This way,” Daisy instructed jovially, though I knew her command was just that—a command. Disobedience would not be met well.

We strolled through the halls, passing fine holographic art prints and whatever else Daisy had managed to acquire from her various clients in the neighborhood. As much as I felt disgusted by the means through which Daisy had achieved such status, I had to admit that it must feel good to have everypony looking up to you like that.

I mentally sighed in relief as we entered Daisy’s computer room, a large space that had probably once been the temple’s crypt. I’d seen it plenty of times, since as a hacker I’d only ever really been able to purchase food here through deleting a few Enforcer files on Daisy’s operation. It seemed that that favor was going to be just another hack, which was something that made me infinitely more comfortable. Hacking I could deal with. It was the other businesses Daisy dealt with that I didn’t want to get involved in.

“Beauty, isn't she?” Daisy said proudly. As a computer enthusiast, I had to agree. Consoles were everywhere, but nothing in the room compared to the massive console in the center. Just beside it was a VR pod, though thankfully this one wasn't a part of Daisy’s digital brothel. Due to the overstuffed cushions and various other customizations, I knew this to be Daisy’s personal interface system. “I want you to pilot it for a while.”

“What?” I gasped, turning to face her, one eyebrow raised despite the guarded look I wore. Daisy had never let me use her personal pod. If she wanted me to hack something, it was always through one of her standard computers. “Why? What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” she said, though I trusted that statement about as far as I could throw her. Given my size and her average girth, I’m sure you can guess how far that would be. “This hack is just a little more...involved than most. You in?”

“What’s the job?” I asked warily.

“Council maneframe,” she said with a smirk. My eyes darted to the pod and then to the door. I should have simply bolted, but in the split second of my hesitation Daisy had drawn her gun again. “Don’t even think about it, Neverwas. I need this job done, and you’re the only pony with a windigo’s chance in Tartarus of pulling it off.”

“I’m just a hacker!” I protested. “I’m not a bloody supercomputer. It would take me years just to get past the preliminary firewalls, and that’d be after the failsafes fry my brain with dark magic!”

“Normally, you’d be right,” she chuckled, holstering her gun again before withdrawing a jump drive. “But you’ll have a little help this time.”

“What’s that?” I scoffed. “Some sort of ‘super’ virus? The Council’s got the best software in the District. Whatever second-rate hacker sold that to you robbed you blind. No virus has ever been able to get into the Council maneframe.”

“Will you just shut up and try it?” she asked evenly. “Odds are, you’re probably right. If you can’t get past the firewalls with this thing’s help, you’re free to go. I’ll even give you free pick of my garden, as much as you can carry. All I’m asking is that you try. Refuse, however...”

Her horn lit up again, her ironically cheery-golden aura settling on her holster.

“Fine,” I grumbled. If I was sweating before, I was all but pissing myself now. “But don’t blame me when all your systems are fried.”

As I walked over to the VR pod, I chuckled mirthlessly to myself. Seeing Daisy’s face when her computers exploded from the Council’s counter-viruses would have been a sight to see. Too bad I might not get to see it, seeing as how it was very likely my brain could suffer the same fate.

All I had come here for was some breakfast, and now my life was on the line. I wanted to cook some veggies, not have my brain cooked!

Maybe I could just make it look like I was hacking the maneframe. If I set up an illusory program, I could give the impression that I simply couldn't get in. That’d be nice...if I had a few extra hours to set it up.

Don’t worry about it now, I thought frantically to myself. Just concentrate on a way out of this, and you’ll be fine.

Yeah, right. But what other choice did I have?

The pod door slid open with a hiss and I climbed in, almost getting swallowed alive by the cushions. If this pod wasn't about to become my casket, I might have rather enjoyed such luxury.

“What am I even looking for?” I asked.

“An old military file from before the Crash,” Daisy instructed. “Something called the ‘Old Soldiers Project’.”

“Before the Crash? That’s ancient history,” I observed. “Why would something like that be secret?”

“Because it led to the Crash,” Daisy explained. “As I understand it, this file is from the Corporate War.”

The Corporate War?!

“Happy hunting!” Daisy chortled before I could make any further inquiries or objections. She mashed a button on the side of the pod and the egg-like structure closed. A gentle humming began filling the enclosure, and the crystalline filaments lacing the interior of the pod began lighting up. Already, I could feel the gentle tug as the magic pulled at my consciousness. I knew resistance was futile, so I simply sighed and let it pluck me from my body, hurtling my mind into the Net.

. . .

For a few moments, I wasn't anywhere, and I wasn't anything. I didn’t exist, at least not in the conventional sense. There was nothingness as far as the nonexistent eye couldn't see.

Then, slowly but with rapidly increasing speed, ones and zeroes began falling from whatever passed for ‘up’ in this un-space. The drizzle of code quickly escalated into a rainstorm of digital complexity, and wherever the code fell, it formulated.

Data began piling up and fading in on itself, constructing a virtual ground, a virtual sky, and a virtual everything in between. Mountains of megabytes rose above lakes of logarithms and valleys of virtuality. Forests, villages, and cities fell into place byte by byte, as did the ponies and other such beings who inhabited them.

Finally, a virtual me formed, though ‘me’ was putting it lightly. I was little more than a dress mannequin, a blank white shape with vaguely equine features. I didn’t even have a mane or tail, much less any discernible features that would define me as male or female.

Most ponies had their avatars synchronized with their DNA, but understandably I tried to keep mine as random as my disguises. I had to design a new avatar every time I accessed the Net directly. With a few thought commands, my avatar melted and morphed into a doppelganger of my current disguise.

Now that that was settled, I only had to—gulp—break into the most heavily fortified databank in the history of Equestria. First, though, where was I?

Looking around, I beheld something straight out of a history textbook. Cottages, actual cottages with thatch roofs and plaster over brick walls and everything, surrounded me. I was even standing on cobblestones rather than asphalt and concrete.

“I sometimes almost forget how peaceful everything looked back then,” I murmured to myself. “I haven’t logged into the Ponyville server in ages.”

A bright orb that was supposed to be the sun shone down from a blue sky overhead, and all around me birdsong filled the fresh, sweet air. I took a deep breath, reminded why I had spent so many credits at the VR stations when I was younger. It was nice for a while, but knowing it wasn't real was the clincher that killed it.

The first thing I would need to do would be to find a port station and upload myself to the Council’s public access system. I began trotting down Ponyville’s Manestreet, noting the various other avatars. Many were just as unique and modern as I was, but quite a few bore old world, pre-Crash charm. It was always interesting to see the users who tried to match their environment.

Finally I reached Ponyville library, a recreation of the supposed home of the Goddess of Magic during her time in Equestria. I reached a hoof towards the door, but right before I could push it open there was a flash of light.

I gasped and jumped back. I had thought teleportation was banned from this server, but the pony standing before me apparently thought otherwise. She also apparently thought otherwise on a lot of the bans programmed into this server.

Standing before me was the spitting image of Twilight Sparkle, the Goddess of Magic herself.

“What the—” I almost swore before the avatar in front of me held up a hoof.

“Now, now,” she chided, smiling smugly. “Would you really want to curse in the presence of a Goddess?”

“You’re not—hold on a minute,” I demanded. “How are you doing that? Alicorn mods are banned, and besides, nopony can override the filter against Goddess lookalikes! Even I—”

I stopped myself just in time.

“Even you what?” she grinned. “Does it involve your favorite pastime? Does it start with h and end with ack?”

“Shut up!” I shouted, causing a few of the other avatars to shoot me an odd look. Wait a minute...why weren’t they more interested in the Twilight avatar? I looked from them and then back to her. “They can’t see you?”

“I’m on an isolated channel,” she explained, gently kicking open the library door behind her. She backed up into it, and I hesitantly followed. “And before you express further bafflement and incredulity, yes, I am fully aware of the fact that such is banned by powerful prevention codes.”

“Who are you?” I asked, my brow furrowing. It was one thing to hack into the Ponyville server, which was little more than a free social area. I might even be able to do so if I had the time and the motivation, but why? However, it was another thing entirely to create a Twilight Sparkle avatar. The Council had banned that model with some of the highest codes for a reason. If the Harmonists ever caught wind of this, they’d be out for the blasphemer’s blood. Even if the Council didn’t necessarily sponsor the Harmonist faith, they were smart enough to recognize the kind of disruption they would cause if prompted to organize. “And how are you hacking through all this?”

“Don’t tell me you've already forgotten Daisy May’s little ‘help’ program?” the not-Twilight said, cocking her head. The gesture was made twice as annoying when she flipped upside down and hovered there with her oversized alicorn wings.

“You mean you’re...” I said, puzzling this over. “But that’s impossible! No artificial intelligence is that advanced. At least, no post-Crash AIs are, and I know Daisy could never get her hooves on pre-Crash tech. Who are you, really? Are you the one who sold Daisy that jump drive?”

“If it’ll make you feel better and get this over with faster, why not?” ‘Twilight’ shrugged.

“You’re going to help me try to...” I started, but then narrowed my gaze suspiciously. “What, are you an Enforcer or something? That’s it! You’re an agent of the Council—that’s the only reason you can bypass those codes!”

My eyes suddenly widened.

“You've been spying on Daisy, haven’t you? This is a sting!” I gasped, realizing all too well what that entailed. “But I’m innocent! I just came here to get some food! I wasn't actually going to try and hack the Council maneframe like she asked—I’m innocent! I’m a victim here!”

Despite it being warm out for the first time in a long time, even if that was all a digital lie, my blood was beginning to run cold. The stories Twitchy Tails told me in the forums came rushing back.

“Please, don’t arrest me!” I pleaded. “I’m innocent till proven guilty, aren't I?”

The inverted Twilight simply continued to stare at me with an amused, slightly bored expression.

“I suppose I could calculate how you’d formulate all that, even if it is wrong,” she said, finally turning back right-side-up and landing beside me. “I’m not a Council agent, but this is what you would call a ‘sting.’ Enforcers are hauling the virtual reality interface unit you’re currently plugged into to a Rim outpost as we communicate.”

“What?” I said. That couldn't be true...could it? Daisy hated the Enforcers. As much as I disliked her, I could trust that she wouldn’t sell me out...right?

“I can deduce from your facial expressions that you are contemplating my statement,” the Twilight said. “I understand that you have every reason to believe my claims false. Nevertheless, you wouldn’t disbelieve your own experiences, would you? Why don’t you try logging out?”

“Daisy would kill me—literally—if I just bailed on her,” I snorted. Then again, there was a difference between logging out and getting out of the pod... “Wait just a moment...”

“Feel free to waste as many parsecs as your cardiovascular organ desires,” the Twilight said.

Rolling my eyes, I mentally entered the codes that would let me wake up, but not turn the pod off entirely. I could log back in at a moment’s notice, before Daisy notice a thing.

I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again ever-so-slightly, I wasn't in Ponyville anymore.

I also wasn't in Daisy’s computer room.

My eyes opened all the way as I saw a low metal roof inches above the pod’s glass cover. I could also feel whatever second container I was in bump and shift, accompanied by the sensation of steady movement.

In a sudden rush of fear, I tried to open the pod, but it couldn't get past the cover above it.

“That—that nag!” I swore. “She sold me out!”

My heart began racing. If I wasn't in Daisy’s lair, then that could only mean the Twilight impostor had been telling the truth. I was in the custody of Enforcers, and soon I would be at their mercy in an interrogation room. I could almost see Twitchy Tails shaking his head sadly.

I was under arrest. Every cyber crime I’d ever committed was going to be extracted from my brain bit by bit with dark magic. If they didn’t just kill me after that, I’d spend the rest of my life in a prison pod, slowly rotting away as my broken mind feebly tried to piece itself back together.

I was breathing far more quickly now, on the verge of hyperventilating. A few more seconds and I’d be suffering from a full-blown panic attack.

No.

I was not giving up that easily.

“Come on, Neverwas,” I whispered to myself. “You've hacked circles around these guys. There has to be some flaw in their security you can exploit. You are not getting brain-raped by dark magic.”

Taking a deep breath, I accessed the Net again.

“Welcome back!” ‘Twilight’ greeted cheerily. “Have a nice trip to reality?”

“What do you know about what’s going on?” I asked, nearly pleading despite trying to keep my voice level. “Anything you know could save me. I can repay you—”

“No debts,” the Twilight interrupted, sounding serious for the first time. “Why don’t we settle for a symbiotic relationship? We’ll assist each other out of common interest, not an exchange of favors. Call it friendship. Besides, whatever the crime lord known as 'Daisy May' thinks, I'm not here to help her. I'm here to help you.”

“Friendship?” I echoed. The Twilight nodded. I’d never had a friend, but now wasn't really the time to get into that, much less question what whoever this was really wanted. “Friendship it is, then.”

“Excellent!” the Twilight exclaimed. “I’m decoding the locks on your holding container. As soon as it pops, you can exit the transport vessel. I can do nothing concerning the Enforcers themselves, but I have it on moderately benevolent authority that help is headed your way from another front. I advise you to stay alive as best you can until they arrive.”

“Thank you,” I said sincerely, despite the fact that that ‘stay alive as best you can’ bit wasn't all that comforting.

“Think nothing of it, friend.” the Twilight smiled cheerily again, though I couldn't tell if it was at least partially cheeky. At this point, I didn’t really care.

I closed my eyes again and opened them back in reality. With a hiss, the metal ceiling split in two and slid open. The pod’s cover followed shortly after, and with a deep breath, I crawled out of it.

Thankfully, I’d never actually seen the inside of an Enforcer detainment vehicle, but it was pretty much exactly as I’d pictured it: a dark metal box. The Enforcers’ logo, three orbs representing the Sun, Moon, and the planet lined up vertically in order of size, was emblazoned across the two longer walls.

There were two doors. The smaller I assumed led to the cockpit, but despite its shaking and the cursing from the other side, it wasn't opening. I silently thanked whoever the Twilight really was and jumped down to the larger exit door. With a click, it swung open to reveal—

A pair of metal horseshoes met my face as an Enforcer pegasus slammed into the cell. I was knocked back into the side of the pod container, the breath knocked out of me. The pegasus landed before me, side-mounted guns trained on me as if daring me to make a move. I couldn't see through the pitch-black visor of the pegasus’ helmet, but I could see my own warped reflection, a trickle of blood leaking from my lip.

What was beyond the Enforcer was far more troubling, however. The rushing, rainy skies were full of aerial Enforcer vehicles, several armed pegasi flying beside them. Why in the world were there so many?! I was just a hacker, for Goddesses’ sakes!

“I've got the subject detained,” said the pegasus, a mare judging by her voice. “Do I shoot?”

Thank the Goddesses whoever was on the other end of her radio said ‘no.’ At least, it appeared that they partially said ‘no.’

“Don’t make any sudden moves, Old Soldier,” the Enforcer spat at me. “Or we’ll see just how ‘special’ you really are.”

. . .

Chapter 3

Obsolescence

Chapter 3:

‘Old Soldier?’ There was that term again, the name of the file that Daisy had wanted me to hack—

A warm liquid dribbled onto my chest, and I looked down to see the blood still dripping from my mouth. Right, deal with the current situation now, worry about whatever the Tartarus ‘Old Soldiers’ were later...especially why I was considered to be one.

Looking up fearfully at the Enforcer pegasus, who still had her twin side-mounted rifles trained on me, I racked my brain for some way to get past her without having explosive shells burrow into my torso and make shrapnel out of my rib cage. Maybe if I started talking and got her talking, I could distract her long enough to... I don’t know what. I certainly couldn’t slip away from this many Enforcers even if I escaped this transport vehicle—there was a whole Goddesses-damned fleet of their aerial vehicles out there—but I had to do something...

“Don’t you have to read me my rights or something?” I asked, wiping the blood off my split lip with a foreleg. The crimson liquid stained my white coat, but again, there were more pressing things to worry about right now.

“Shut the buck up,” the Enforcer ordered, and I could hear the intimidating click of her rifles readying themselves.

I winced, not at her words but at the stupidity of what I was about to do. Doing nothing would have been more stupid, but this was still really stupid, even if I didn’t see what other choice I had.

“I have rights!” I shouted, struggling to rise despite my shaky limbs. “You can’t just arrest me without telling me—”

The mare lashed out with a foreleg and struck me across the nose, her iron horseshoes sending blood flying from my nostrils.

“I said shut up!” she demanded, her voice carrying the barest hints of a tremor.

Wait, what...? She was afraid of me? But I was just a hacker! Whatever an ‘Old Soldier’ was, they must be a force to be reckoned with if an Enforcer, nay, an entire squadron, was frightened by just one of them. I imagined I’d never know why they mistook me for whatever such things were.

“Are you afraid?” I said, trying my best to even out the tremor in my own voice, as well as add a bit of a creepy, threatening undertone. I sounded about as confident as the fleet of Enforcers looked intimidating, but it had the desired effect all the same, much to my surprise.

She took a step backwards, her rear hooves on the lip of the floor. The city zoomed by beneath her, the acidic chocolate milk rain sizzling off of the back of her armor.

Hesitantly, but growing bolder, I took a step forward.

“Don’t come any closer!” she warned, her voice now wavering just as much as mine had. “I’ll fire! I swear I’ll—”

“I don’t think you will,” I said, taking a huge risk but still not seeing what other options I had. “I think your superiors want me alive, and that means you’re not going to kill me. Not that you could anyway, of course, me being an Old Soldier and all. Speaking of which, here comes the rest of my squadron.”

I looked over the Enforcer’s shoulder, forcing a smile as I did so.

She took the bait, quickly turning to see what I was looking at. Ducking down, I leapt forward, wrapping my forelegs around her and holding on tight as we both plummeted off the the transport vehicle. The enforcer's rifles barked, the bullets harmlessly ruffling my mane. The noise, however, pounded through my skull like an ice-pick, the price of my batlike hearing, I guess, but it was a small price to pay for the opportunity it provided.

With the Enforcer disoriented, I pushed off of her with my hind legs with a force that, on a larger pony, would’ve qualified as an applebuck. The wind knocked out of the pegasus, she plummeted as I spread my wings and darted downwards, away from the pegasus but also away from the Enforcer fleet.

This was perhaps my biggest gamble. I had no way of knowing for certain if the fleet wouldn’t simply blast me into oblivion.

My gamble looked like it was about to pay off—they weren’t shooting at me! For whatever reason, they must have wanted me alive, and that actually frightened me more than if they wanted me dead. After all, you can’t brain-rape a corpse...unless necromancy is involved, but the Council didn’t have access to quite that level of technology, or so I hoped.

The spires of the Rim rose up to meet me, though I noticed with a wince of dread that they were buildings a bit further into Canterlot Proper than I would’ve liked. They must have been taking me to the heart of the District.

“Buck that,” I whispered to myself with a gleeful smirk.

I couldn’t believe this! I might actually be able to get away! The Enforcer pegasi made use of enchanted jet engines, so I knew that any moment the fleet above would be sending a full squadron down to try and catch me. Nevertheless, I also knew that no Enforcer knew the streets of the Rim like I did. If I could just make it into one of the back alleys, I could lose them in the crowd.

“CITIZEN!” boomed a crackly voice over a loudspeaker as the translucent pillar of a searchlight shone on me, quickly joined by dozens more. The Enforcer’s aerial vehicles were giving chase, trying to keep me in sight. There was no way I could outfly one of those, let alone a fleet, but I was closer to the skyscraper-spanning bridges and civilian vehicular traffic and such of the lower Rim than I was to my pursuers. Just a little further... “YOU ARE ORDERED TO HALT IMMEDIATELY! YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR CRIMES AGAINST THE COUNCIL!”

“Freeze!” shouted an Enforcer pegasus as he zoomed down alongside me, having finally caught up after his late start. Others were quick to join him.

Glancing out of the corner of my eyes, I could see them raising bulky rifle-like weapons, the likes of which I’d never seen. I could read Stunner on the side, which was even worse than if it had been named Killer.

Mere yards away from the civilian traffic, I flared my wings and flapped furiously upwards, sending the Enforcers zooming downwards, too late to correct their flight pattern. By the time they realized where they were headed, an aerial transport vehicle had blindsided them. I heard the sickening crunch of metal crashing against thinner bits of metal, and the even more sickening wet sounds of what was inside.

“Buck yeah!” I shouted. “Take that, motherbuckers!”

I knew I’d regret that later. Essentially, I’d just sent half a dozen ponies to their deaths, but it had been them or me, and for the moment that was all I could care about.

Spotting an opening in the civilian traffic, I darted through it and landed—hard—on the crimson roof of a more luxurious model. The vehicle swerved slightly before resuming its course, and I grabbed onto the front of the roof with my wing-claws.

The chill wind and rain blasted my mane and tail back, and I could see that both weren’t as spiky as they had once been. My natural genetic structure was fighting back against the transmutation magic. Soon I’d look just like I normally did. I only hoped I’d still been genetically altered enough to prevent the Enforcers from identifying me.

The vehicle zoomed towards one of the many skyscrapers, already much taller than those of the outer Rim, the wide mouth of a traffic tunnel growing larger all the time. I couldn’t believe my luck; as soon as the vehicle was in the tunnel, all I had to do was leap off, fly into one of the many side tunnels, and disappear in the crowds of the inner building.

I would be a whisper amidst a billion voices. They’d never find me.

If I had been the more religious type, I might even have felt like heading to the first Harmonist temple I saw and kissing the hooves of each statue of the Goddesses. Tartarus, maybe I would do so anyway.

That’s when I realized the wind blowing through my mane and tail was becoming less and less forceful. Looking down, I saw that the vehicles flying by beneath the sports model I was on were slowing, and so too was my own ride.

No, no, no.... I thought frantically. That’s not possible!

The traffic seemed to disagree. The air was suddenly alive with the blare of sirens and horns, more so than usual, as each aerial vehicle in sight slowed to a stop, each hovering motionlessly.

“Fly!” I demanded, pounding my hooves against the roof. “Move! Go! Do something!”

I glanced back to see more Enforcer pegasi weaving their way through the stalled traffic, their own vehicles fanning out across the top of the frozen civilian rush hour and shining their searchlights between the myriad vehicles.

I furiously slammed a hoof to my touchscreen amulet and began rapidly typing as the holographic interface projected itself before me. Hacking into the vehicle I was riding, I ordered the machine to move, but a large, angry red error message filled the screen when I hit ‘enter.’

“A Council-mandated cessation of vehicular transportation is in effect,” I read. “Please remain calm and in your vehicles while the Enforcers search for a dangerous terrorist. Your cooperation is non-negotiable and appreciated. All violators will be shot.”

“There she is!” I heard somepony shout behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see an Enforcer speeding towards me, others farther off changing course to follow suite.

I swore, turning back to my amulet and typing away faster than I ever had. There was no way I could outfly them now. Even if I made it to one of the bridges now, there would be too few ponies to hide behind; the Enforcers would probably just land on either side of the bridge and close in on me anyway. I certainly couldn’t make it to the skyscraper traffic tunnel in time.

I only had one chance.

I opened the Enforcer’s online network and sicced my customized viruses on it, praying that they could eat their way past the firewalls in time.

PROGRESS AT 0.01%, I read. 49.73 hours remaining.

What?! They must have beefed up security since last night. That also meant that I was royally bucked.

My breaths came in ragged heaves, my eyes bulging. They were going to catch me. There was nothing I could do to stop it. They were going to pluck me from society, erase any evidence I’d ever existed, and shove the wriggling tentacles of dark magic into my brain to rip my psyche apart.

I felt like I was about to vomit, and I could already taste bile in the back of my throat.

Ping.

FILE UPLOADED, I read.

Huh?

I glanced at the bottom of the screen, seeing that my viruses were still over two days away from eating their way into the nearest Enforcer maneframe. Then what had just loaded?

A chuckle rose in my throat, which turned into a maniacal laugh. My project! The one I’d been waiting for this morning, it had finally loaded!

I minimized the window concerning the project itself—something to do with redistributing funds to local poorhouses and cutting funding to weapon shipments, but that wasn’t important right now—and logged right onto the main field management files. Selecting every local Enforcer, I activated the emergency failsafe protocol, and the searchlights died, as did the sound of Enforcer jet engines and the mechanical whining of their aerial vehicles.

I looked back to see the Enforcer pegasi, just a few civilian vehicles away, slow down and drop onto the flying machines immediately below them. They moved slowly, the pistons and gears that would have normally enabled their powered armor to function having deadlocked.

I cackled as I looked up to see the vehicles slowing to a halt as well, their external lights dying as they hovered as motionlessly as every other machine in the sky.

Every Enforcer database had an emergency failsafe protocol, a massive killswitch to shut off any particular bit of their technology should it ever be stolen or used against them. I grinned smugly, thinking of how poetically just it seemed that their own fear of being turned against was what had kept them from catching me.

“It’s been fun!” I laughed at them, closing the amulet’s interface, taking wing, and flying towards the nearest skyscraper’s traffic tunnel. “But let’s not do it again anytime soon.”

My adrenaline rush was wearing off by now, and my wings felt heavy as I flapped towards safety. Even so, I had just enough juice left in me for a few more hours, which would be more than enough to disappear. I’d really have to be more careful from now on, and that definitely meant never trusting any two-bit crime lords like Daisy ever again. I’d relocate, just like I’d planned earlier, far from this side of Canterlot Proper. The opposite side of the Rim was sounding all the more enticing now.

I gasped as a chrome figure landed in front of me, nearly crumpling the vehicle on which it had landed. I nearly crashed into it, instead slowing to a hover a few feet from the metallic...thing.

I say ‘thing’ because it completely lacked any defining sexual characteristics, or biological markers, for that matter. It was the most basic of equine forms, with a visor-like screen for eyes and segmented metal plating for skin. Neon lights ran between where its plating intersected, and side-mounted rockets took the place of what, on a real pony, would’ve been wings.

I was looking at what could only be a robot. Others began rocketing down from the sky, weaving through the stalled vehicles and landing on them, crumpling the roofs, sending shards of shattered window glass tumbling down to the earth far below. I could hear the screams of the ponies trapped inside as they were all-but-crushed crushed by the heavy equine machines. What frightened me most was that there weren’t as many screams as I had anticipated.

The robot immediately in front of me possessed two speaker-like protrusions on either side of its lower face, which crackled to life before announcing in the most overly peppy voice I’d ever heard “Jolly good show! You really unwound their sticky-wickets and shoved it to them backwards! I congratulate you on your exceptionalism!”

I darted to the side and dropped downwards.

The robot leapt down in front of me, nearly flattening the vehicle beneath it and blocking my path as the other machines closed in.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” the robot chuckled in a surprisingly fluid equine voice. “Hold your metaphorical equine figures of speech! We’re the silver linings to your poisoned cotton-candy clouds. Don’t believe us, like you’re some sort of robot atheist? Then we’ll put the ‘p’ in front of ‘r-o-v-e’ it to you!”

The robot turned its head, apparently looking up beyond me. I turned to see what it was looking at, cursing myself for realizing too late that I’d just fallen for the same trick I’d pulled on the Enforcer. However, it seemed that this wasn’t a trick.

My jaw dropped in utter horror as I saw other robots closing around the Enforcers, whose armor was too heavy to allow them to fly without power. Other robots still were flying down from the sky, landing on the Enforcer vehicles.

I wasn’t horrified at the fact that the robots were surrounding my enemies, mind you. I was horrified that what appeared to be weapons were extending from opened panels in their fronts. Electrodes crackled with a sort of magic I’d never seen, which pulsed with an intensity that made it hard to look at, sending shimmers of distortion throughout the air.

“Lights! Camera!” the robot nearest me announced. “The opposite of inaction!”

The other robots fired their weapons at the the trapped Enforcers and their vehicles, and a shrieking, horrific wrongness blinded me for a moment, as if somepony had just poked a hoof into reality and swirled it around.

When the spots stopped swimming before my eyes, the Enforcers and their vehicles were gone. The ponies who had once worn Enforcer armor were...no longer ponies. The robots were now surrounding an odd assortment of seemingly random objects, ranging from a potted plant to a goldfish bowl (complete with goldfish) to a clothing rack covered in lingerie.

I heard a impossibly deep, melancholic wail as a huge gray shape plunged down from above, right where the nearest Enforcer vehicle had just been. I saw something I’d only ever seen in history files crashing through the civilian flying machines, knocking them out of the way or simply flattening them with its massive fins and even more massive tail and huge, bulky body.

The screams of ponies streamed through the creature’s blowhole, telling me that though the ship had been transmogrified, those inside had not, and were plummeting to their death inside the poor creature.

The robots had just turned a fleet on Enforcers into a bunch of random objects and a whale and who knew what else.

I could feel the bile rising back up.

“What do you neurally process about that?” the nearest robot inquired, sounding proud of itself. “Are you experiencing an emotion akin to euphoria, like the kind you might feel if you had been blessed with the power of crying chocolate frosting?”

“Why did you do that?” I snarled. Sure, I had killed some Enforcers of my own, and though I had been elated to have done so at the time, I wasn’t particularly proud of it and never truly would be. It had simply been me or them in the heat of a moment, and I had come out on top. They had known the stakes when they chased after what they apparently assumed was a deadly fugitive.

But these robots...sure, I was no friend to the Enforcers, but those ponies had been sitting there defenseless. They hadn’t been a threat to me or anypony else, even if they’d wanted to be.

“Does our gift not bring pleasure to the pleasurably pleasure-producing centers of your squishy gray matter?” the robot asked, sounding confused. “Our calculations had indicated that this course of action only possessed a failure probability of ninety-nine point eight percent, which is more favorable than the figures we usually calculate.”

“But they were defenseless!” I shouted. “They couldn’t hurt anypony! You’re more of a danger than they are. You’re crushing whoever’s under that roof you’re standing on right now!”

“I fail to optically observe how this circumstance bears any significance,” the robot said apologetically. “The mushy red jelly-filled flesh-bags of this District are irrelevant to our intrepid enterprises, save for your own biomass. Does this data compute with your gray matter?”

“What are you talking about?!” I demanded. “Who are you?!”

“You mean you don’t know?” the robot asked. “Accessing identification records. Translating binary linguistics. Answering the damn question. Pleased to meet you, Miss Biomass! We are the Binary Operating Technology Systems, or BOTS, of Unreality, Inc., also known as the Entropy Empire in the District adjacent to Canterlot Proper. We have travelled long and far to present you with a business proposition. Our lord, master, and CEO, that devilishly good-looking pony Mr. L, wishes to speak with you on a matter of utmost urgency. Do you accept our humble invitational, um... invitation?”

“No!” I shouted.

“Processing response,” said the robot...roBOT...Bot? “Response has been processed. Mr. L was ‘a’ to the ‘f-r-a-i-d’ you would say that. Thus, he programmed us with his magical jazzy hooves to encourage compliance with our request. I shall ask you four minus three more times: will you hear out Mr. L’s businesslike business propositional proposal?”

The other Bots had surrounded me by this time, having left the former Enforcers to either sit unattended on top of the civilian vehicles or fall off to the seemingly endless stories below. I vaguely wondered if that would kill them, if they still possessed some form of consciousness after their transmogrification, or if death came the moment they ceased possessing brains.

I wasn’t surprised by what was coming next, but it still wasn’t pleasant. The Bots, the spokesbot included, re-released their odd electrode-like weapons. The air shimmered, twisting into impossible non-euclidian twists and warps.

“You possess approximately seven-hundred-and-seventy seven minus seven-hundred-and-seventy-four seconds before we unleash a can of entropic whup-flank upon your mortal soul,” the spokesbot warned, still using its overly peppy tone. “One Maresissippi...two Maresissippi...”

“What do you want from me?” I asked with a sigh, defeated. There was no way I could outfly these metal monstrosities with their rockets, much less beat them if it came to blows. I’d try hacking them, but I had been lucky enough to get into the Enforcer’s local maneframe in time. Besides, even if I could get into whatever crazy systems these Bots were using, they’d be transmogrifying me into another potted plant before I could activate my amulet.

“Mr. L requires your attendance at his swankily high-resolution office,” the spokesbot answered, if such a weird response could even qualify as an answer. “We, his glorious vanguard of metal heartthrobs, are to escort you to the promised land beyond the walls of Canterlot Proper.”

“...Fine,” I finally said.

The Bots’ weapons began to lose their charge, sliding back into their compartments.

“We are eternally grateful for your cooperation,” the spokesbot thanked me cheerily. “We depart for the Entropy Empire immediately. All aboard the chaos train!”

There was a bright flash of white, and an aerial ship several times larger than the Enforcers’ vehicles—all of the fleet I had seen combined, in fact—appeared in the air above the stalled civilian traffic. I assumed it had been there the whole time, simply invisible. Why the Bots hadn’t used it to take out the Enforcers earlier was anypony’s guess, though given what I had seen of their tenuous grasp of reality as well as their total disregard for its natural laws, I also supposed it was in keeping with their actions so far.

By any rational definition of the terms ‘ship,’ ‘aircraft,’ or even ‘vehicle,’ the mechanical monstrosity floating above me should have in no way been capable of flight. It essentially looked like what might happen if somepony took a bunch of different ships, blew them up, and then randomly welded the pieces back together in a completely hodge-podge way.

Streamlined white armor panels covered in blue neon strips clung to massive exposed engines that looked like they were obsolete centuries ago. Smokestacks that looked like they belonged an a preindustrial steamboat belched multicolored smoke and sparks into the air, while electricity danced along unprotected wiring and clearly damaged circuitry. Some of the coils and armor plating even looked organic, possessing fur or feathers or scales, and I could’ve sworn an eye popped open and winked at me before disappearing again. The thing barely stayed aloft on a mixture of rockets spouting blue flame, wide jet engines that looked like they’d been stolen from an Enforcer cruiser, and even a cluster of party balloons.

“What does your carbon-based processing unit compute about the flagship of Unreality Inc.’s proud fleet of Improbability Vehicles?” asked the spokesbot as we flew through a circular panel that opened in the side of the craft. “Is she not beautiful? Gorgeous? Sexy?”

“She’s very...unique?” I said lamely, looking around nervously at the interior. I had no suspicion that these Bots would harm me—yet—if they had put so much effort into getting me to come with them. I assumed I would be safe until I met this ‘Mr. L.’ Nevertheless, I had what I felt to be a reasonable degree of fear about whether or not this ramshackle ship could stay airborne for a few more minutes. I didn’t want to even think about it whether or not it could survive a journey all the way to the next District, and one I knew absolutely nothing about at that.

Everyone in Canterlot Proper knew plenty about most of the other Districts, even with the Council attempting to sensor most of the information. The megacorporations of New Everfree and even the Dreamscape all did business with the Council on a regular basis, even if it wasn’t always by choice. The Shrine of Harmony, a neutral zone among the Districts, was a religious center of the Harmonist faith and, as far as I could tell, literally nothing more.

However, there was one District which remained an enigma to everypony in Canterlot Proper, except perhaps for the Council and their inner circle. I knew that the Council made certain never to mention it in any telecasts, and most websites that made mention of ‘the Last District’ were entirely deleted by the government’s artificially intelligent censor programs.

It was the domain of Unreality, Inc., a power company and one of the many megacorporations which had fought in the Corporate War against the government, which had led to the Crash. It still provided power to Canterlot Proper and, I assumed, the other Districts—though I didn’t know at what price—save those uninhabited by anypony. Nevertheless, it had kept to itself since the Crash, and the rest of Canterlot had left it alone.

It seemed I would soon find out why.