Level 4 Compromises

Chapters

The Future Has Less Worries
Houston, We've Got Way More Than a Problem
The Common Denominator
Spread the Love (and the virus)
Tainted Tears
A Matter of Time and Idiots
A Brief Summary of the Ravaging of a Well-Known Town

The Future Has Less Worries

The year 2034. An amazing year for the world. Time and time again, we've been knocked down by one, just one pesky little thing. Evil to its core, it has no emotions, no fears. It only wants to kill and spread. And in this age, a vaccine has been made for smallpox. While it had been encased in freezers at various locations around the world, never to be released in public, accidents happen, even if they happened to be deadly, life-altering accidents. No one suffers from the virus any longer. Except, that is, one Philip Carson. Philip works at a small hardware store in Detroit, Michigan. As with most people, Philip never got the dream he wanted. His wish: to go into space, forged from his childhood days in front of the television, watching documentaries and learning everything there was to know about space. It was a nearly impossible one, as funding for just one man's dream is completely ridiculous. He had smallpox, and knew about it. He was kept in a maximum bio-containment center called the Slammer. He would be probed day and night, looking for symptoms and reactions. Of course, despite a vaccine in effect, smallpox could spread like wildfire across America. And unlike the flu, it had a higher mortality rate. Strapped to a chair in a large rubber room, Philip detached himself from all emotion, quietly staring at the floor, inconsolably sad. The people in space suits continued their work, but one day, an offer was made. A general from USAMRIID, a branch of the U.S military dedicated to virus containment and vaccination, met with an official from NASA. General Bryan Darling had met with Dr. Miles Price over doing a quick sweep of NASA facilities, especially the spaceships. After all, who would ever know when you brought something back until it was too late. Price had been on plenty of expeditions into "the final frontier", and was most likely in the last years of his life. Although funding for NASA had gone down the drain, some were still dedicated enough to it that NASA had almost made a full comeback in terms of service. The conversation had gone from containment to small talk rather quickly, as it was pretty easy to make an appointment.

"What's it like in space, eh?" Darling started. "Cold, I imagine." Price smirked.

"Yeah, what's it to you?"

"We've got a guy that'd love to go; shame that he's full of pox." Price lit up.

"Ya know, we could make a lot of money off of this. If he's the last person infected by smallpox, wouldn't we love to send it out with a bang? Send him into space, an official end to the smallpox virus." It wasn't a brilliant idea. In fact, it was the stupidest idea known to man. But it was fun to think about. It would take a long time before anyone had seriously considered it. Finally, in March of 2044, Carson was finally given the opportunity he had wanted. He had been given medication to suppress the virus, but chose not to cure it upon hearing about the event. Philip was too overjoyed to feel any real pain. His body was sore, and his insides had begun to bleed. The medication had stopped the virus from advancing, but it was temporary. On launch day, a team of 20 scientists and Philip boarded the Cleaner, an extremely large shuttle, named for its mission: giving the end of smallpox an official date. Smallpox would no longer be kept in freezers for experimentation. Despite heated debates with the CDC, who wanted to keep it, it was finally decided that the virus was too deadly to be kept around. Crowds cheered the launch, as the shuttle rocketed into space, far from the Earth. One of the scientists turned to Philip, who was encased in a blue space suit. He motioned toward a large titanium door. He opened it, revealing a large, with one round window, so he could enjoy the his last days in the comfort of space, just like he'd always wanted. Televisions everywhere showed the event caught on camera, as the last smallpox holder was launched into space, cheers resounding from the shuttle, even though he'd never hear them. For once in his life, Philip was happy. He smiled. This was all he'd ever wanted. His friends, his boss. None of them meant anything. Because now, he was the one in charge. For days on end, he traveled, being supplied only water and broth through the tubes in his suit. Space was much larger than he'd ever realized, but he loved it. On April 2nd, his attention was brought to a large object, which was green, blue, and spherical. At first, Philip thought he'd be landing back on Earth, which he knew would bring about only disappointment in his peers. But there was something off about this Earth. There didn't seem to be any satellites. The moon was ever-present, but there were no other objects in orbit. The sky also looked much clearer, and there was almost no pollution, unlike his home planet. This is where Philip began to panic. Something, whatever it was, wasn't right. He still didn't know. Then it hit him. The continents. Sure, changes take place, but over millions of years, not a few decades. He had a minor in geography, but he couldn't recognize any countries. There were three possibilities: nuclear war, which was impossible because the features were too clean to have had any sort of war on them. Then there was the possibility that he simply couldn't recognize anything. But none of those seemed to make any sense. Was he dead? No, no, he was very much alive. So then, what was it? Only one possibility left, but it was impossible! Was he...approaching another planet? No planets that he had heard of were known to have life. Then..what was this? It was the beginning of something bad. Something very, very bad.

Houston, We've Got Way More Than a Problem

Griffons aren't friendly creatures. In fact, they're known for being brash and arrogant, and there isn't much you can do that'll really impress a griffon. Their nation borders Equestria, and at the time, tension has been at an all time low. Between Twilight's coronation, banishing King Sombra, and just generally happy times, the two haven't found a reason to fight in a long time, which is always nice.

Philip's little pod hurtled through space, clearly on a set course for whatever planet he was heading towards. He couldn't tell how fast he was going, but all he wanted was to go back home. Space is fun until you're being pulled towards an unknown planet with no knowledge that it existed in the first place. And on top of everything, you can't move. They really don't want you getting hurt in this thing, he thought.

A crowd had gathered in a little griffon town, and for whatever reason, they looked terrified. Absolutely terrified of whatever they were looking at. You'll never guess what they wer- oh, it's obvious. But no matter how simple it is for us to understand, they didn't know. They'd seen foolish members of their town light fire to themselves and fly around before, but this wasn't a griffon. It was a steel ball, full of mystery and intent.

Sheriff Blackclaw hated his job. Like, really, really hated his job. Of all the griffons that had wanted to become the sheriff, they chose HIM. When he was told, he wasn't happy.

"I didn't even sign up for this!" he bellowed. But it wasn't like he had a choice. He was the single toughest griffon out there, and there really wasn't anyone more qualified than he. Although he hated it, you couldn't argue with his results. Less crime in the town wasn't something that had been matched by any of his predecessors. He'd seen it all, and today was no different. Every living thing had decided that there was something that he needed to see. His assistant rushed in, a small, perky griffon who had been nicknamed "Litty". She was carrying a clipboard and a pen, typical of her.

"Lit, I swear on my wings, if this is about that pod, I'm going to-"

"Then I'll bring the scissors. Just get out here, already. I'd love to leave you alone about it, but this is really important." Blackclaw sighed. EVERYTHING was important in this town. There was very little to surprise him, and this wasn't going to be any different.

"Fine, I'll come look at it." He stood up, stretching his legs before finally walking out of his little office and out into the town square, where a steaming ball of steel had landed. Many griffons stood around it, poking at it with their claws and trying to push it over.

"Ok," the sheriff started. "It's a giant yo-yo? What was the fucking point of..."

Inside the "giant yo-yo", Philip sat, in pain and confused. His medication had begun to worn off, and the rash had continued to spread, even in his mouth and extremities. This man had flat smallpox, which is usually fatal, but can spread like wildfire, especially in urban areas. One breath of it is enough to infect you. Philip's fever had skyrocketed, and he felt close to death. He was weak, nauseous, and sick to his stomach. But what he saw scared him. He was surrounded by a mixture of lions and eagles, and they seemed pretty aggressive. Luckily enough, he could see them, but they weren't smart enough to look inside the bubble. He had heard of mythological creatures like this before, but of course he never knew they existed. He decided he had had enough. Slamming the red button on the inside of the pod, the top slid open slowly, revealing the horrifying image within.

"I can't believe you brought me here just to look at a fucking-" The sheriff stopped complaining at the sight of the pod opening. He was in no way ready for what he saw. It was utterly strange. The creature stepped out of the bubble on two weak legs. It stood straight up. Blackclaw took time, with his mouth gaping wide, to analyze it. Instead of hooves, it looked like it had broken his claws, but he noticed how he moved them with ease. Oh, but the eyes. Griffon's eyes are piercing and challenging, but this alien's eyes seemed deceitfully innocent, as though they hid a deeper evil. Its eyebrows furrowed; it didn't like the feeling they were giving him. Everything within 5 feet of him backed away.

"Y-you. What the hell...?" they said in unison. Both were very confused with the other, but they had different reaction. Blackclaw screamed, running to his office to phone whoever could help. He'd seen things, he'd seen it all, he thought. But he hadn't seen this. Philip, on the other hand, fell on his knees, falling face-first on the ground. No one knew it, but that area would become a veritable ground zero for smallpox. It was only a matter of time.

Celestia sighed. This wasn't the first time she'd heard a griffon scared out of his wits. When the two nations had threatened war on each other, Equestria showed its full military power, forcing peace for a while. But this time, it was something different entirely.

"Listen, Sheriff. I am very busy right now....I know it's important, but you still won't tell me what you're....A what? Two-legged alien? Are you......Alright, look. I'll send somepony over there. You'd better hope this is important."

The Common Denominator

Now, we know how easily smallpox spreads. However, smallpox in its entirety was completely unknown to our wonderful pony friends here. In fact, the worst disease they'd ever had was that sickness outbreak in Ponyville after some distasteful muffins were made. To ponyfolk, that's all there was, so they had nothing to fear.

In the little town I mentioned earlier, smallpox had already begun to spread. The first thing you couldn't deny was the smell. It was dreadful. The man lying prone outside the steel ball had begun to stink horribly. This was the pus underneath his skin, and it was one of the foretelling signs of smallpox. Two griffons in particular had already come down with smallpox, because they were the only ones brave enough to stand their ground when an alien steps out of his ship. None of the two knew it, and this is often considered the deadliest part of smallpox: you can be spreading the virus to so many other people before you even start to feel ill. The two had the oncoming signs of smallpox. Crimson, one of the two griffons, was a medic-for-hire in the little town. When the Philip had landed, many of them sensed that the man was not well. While it burdened him to do so, Crimson had begun quickly assessing the alien. He noted the odor and the disturbing appearance of his body, but they were perceived as common traits, and Crimson assumed the man had sustained injury upon impact. He had gone home to sleep, alone in his house. He had never looked into dating or anything of the sort, mostly because he was one of the only griffons who could use his wits rather than raising a claw.

Twilight was being sent to analyze the body. After the frantic call from the sheriff, Celestia thought that sending somepony over would console him, even if no explanation was found. She regretted doing this, as Twilight had just been coronated, and it seemed wrong to send her off to what she would call "field work". However, there weren't many options. Many ponies in Equestria were suited for the job, but none of them had put in as much studying as her pupil. Although what were called "humans" seemed to be only a myth, Twilight had dedicated herself into studying them. She was fascinated with their anatomy and mythology. Although she didn't seem quite as enthusiastic about them as others, she was the most qualified to look at what appeared to be a human.

The second griffon in question was named Blaze, a famous flier, as well as Gilda's cousin. She'd taken part in Young Fliers competitions before, and had won quite a few awards. While she wasn't called to action, she had stood there, looking at the pod in anger. Whatever had landed in her town would certainly be kicked out. Of course, she hadn't prepared herself for a confrontation with the human, so she simply watch Philip collapse in front of the crowd. She was the first griffon in that town to develop symptoms, but she would be the key to getting the virus elsewhere.

Twilight, perhaps, was the most prepared for an epidemic. She had crafted herself a space suit: what we may call a Chemturion. Its purpose was to keep the body free of airborne viruses. Areas where this was required were called "Level 4" zones. Given to laboratories where Ebola, smallpox, and other viruses were in play, the door was under negative air pressure, meaning it kept all the air in the room without a chance for it to escape. The Chemturion was a large, blue, airtight suit. A helmet slid down securely as dry air was streamed in from the back. If you had claustrophobia, you wouldn't want to get in this suit. People have freaked out and lost their minds in these things. She had only crafted such a horrendous thing when she worked with contagious viruses, such as feather flu. Of course, she wouldn't have need it had she not become an alicorn, and she cursed her wings every time she had to slip into that suit.

She began to set up a small "gray zone" near the crash site. The gray zone was the area between the prep area and the hot zone. Chemical showers were a big aspect of it, cleansing you before you entered it. However, chemicals were hard to come by, so Twilight settled for some water. While she had no idea what lay before her, she wasn't going to take the risk that this human was infectious. It frightened a few of the griffons in town, who had been told to leave the quarantine area, that she was wearing an "armor suit", but she didn't have much of a choice. Stepping into the hot zone, which had been sealed off with sticky tape and warnings, she began to analyze the subject. Neither the sticky tape nor the warnings would have been of real help, but that's a decision Twilight looks back on with regret. She had studied a lot about humans. While she wasn't obsessed with them like other ponies she knew, she found them to be interesting. She loved the mythology, whether it be the pyramids of a land named Giza, or how a revolution formed a nation, it interested her how these creatures worked. She didn't approve of everything they did, specifically the slaughter, but that wasn't her problem. What she knew for fact, however, was the general appearance of a human. Generally smooth skin, something called hair, two legs, two arms, a head, and a body was the most of what she knew. This man had all of those, but not the smooth skin. She knew about the aging process, so she was going to assume that the creature had grown old, but his hair was still present, unlike most older men. She tugged at it, the roar of dry air filling her space suit. Not a wig. So what was wrong with this man? She could assume it was a skin condition, but she couldn't make a firm decision. Backing into the gray zone, she unplugged the air, took off her helmet, and rested.

Twilight eventually decided that to make a full conclusion, she would need the body brought home. There was little argument with the griffons; most of them were deadly afraid of whatever it was. Twilight brought her equipment and the body into her lab in her library at home. She suspended the body in a clear glass case, just in case. Before dusk approached, Spike had gone to sleep, leaving Twilight in the dim light of her study, books of human anatomy and history sprawled on her desk. Flipping pages, she wanted to give up. This was a hopeless endeavor. She was going to call it a skin condition. Finally, on a page in her history book, she found something strange that made her want to vomit. They were pictures of smallpox-ridden victims, showing the stages of the virus as it progressed through the human body. Rashes, pustules, and finally scars covered the bodies. It was horrifying to look at. She glanced away, turning to the body suspended in the case. Scars had marred his body. Were they burns that had been created as he burned through their atmosphere? She read into it, despite how much it disgusted her.

Victims report a burning feeling wherever the rash is present, as well as extraordinary pain in those areas as well. High fever, dizziness, and weakness are all foretelling signs of smallpox. A vaccine has been found recently, marking an end to....

Twilight didn't read much past that. So far, no one had said anything regarding that, and it wasn't likely that it would happen. Perhaps smallpox wasn't lethal to ponies, she thought. The book said nothing about that, so she had to assume it was fine. Still, she couldn't shake the idea that something was wrong. Whether it was the disease or the griffons, something just wasn't right.

Spread the Love (and the virus)

The incubation period for smallpox, as I've mentioned, is long enough that you can have the virus while it multiplies inside of you. Such was the case with Crimson. His call was to attend to the sick, no matter where they were or what they needed. If he didn't feel well, that was too bad. He had always told himself that there were others suffering in the world, and that if he put his needs before theirs, then he was better off dead than alive. He was considered one of the only humble griffons around. He had helped in the Crystal Empire, when many of the survivors were left unconscious or weak. He had aided wounded soldiers at the time of the Changeling invasion. He was an unsung hero, and for good reason. Letting confidence get to the head of a griffon is just plain bad.

Crimson woke up, with a headache to end all headaches. It felt like someone was driving a hatchet into his forehead. The pain was intolerable, but in a feat of pure will, he pulled himself up to aid those in need.

He reported to a call for help in the small town where Philip had landed. I will call it Creston. A bolt had fallen out of the harness of a delivery carriage, and the whole thing had come crashing down. The griffon lay on his back, clearly in pain and trying not to show it. It looked like he'd broken both of his wings, a problem you don't want to have in a species that is known for its flying abilities. Crimson didn't have any morphine, so the griffon was going to have to settle for a sleeping pill. He bandaged up the wings. It wasn't easy, as the two wings were really bent out of proportions, not to mention a giant delivery carriage had to be moved prior to any real work. The headache was staying, and it only got worse. He was amazed he had managed to even help his patient when he was in as much pain as he was.

The next day, he woke up feeling extremely weak and nauseous. The headache still lingered, and no amount of pain medication he tried was helping. When he sat up, the room spun, and he wanted to lie back down. Yet his dedication to his job meant that he would not give up.

This time, it was a female griffon who had passed out randomly in the streets. This may have been nausea or just flat-out exhaustion, but the only local doctor who could have any idea what to do with her was Crimson. Trotting to the scene, the surrounding civilians introduced her as Blaze.

She was clearly unconscious, her red-tipped feathers in a messy position on the ground. He didn't ask questions regarding the accident. His head felt like it was splitting in half. He couldn't determine what had gone wrong with her. Exhaustion would make sense, but it wasn't that late into the day, and she wasn't known for staying up all night to train; she was a good time manager. Of course, even if she was conscious, none of the two could have guessed that it was related to that alien in the steel ball, but why should they? Occurrences like that were very rare, but it had no other effect on them except watching the sheriff almost wet his pants. Sure, it was frightening, but nothing's happened. Living in fear wasn't like a griffon, but if they knew what would happen in the following months, they'd be cowering in the corner.

In as little time as he could, Crimson had cleaned her up and brought her home. Her friends laid her down on her bed when the medic noticed something. Blaze had a rash on her belly, one that had started to branch out. Perhaps she had bad allergies, he thought. It wouldn't explain the passing out, but ya know, shit happens.

The day after, Crimson noticed to his own horror that he had started developing a rash. Instead of on his belly, it had started under his neck. He noticed that it wasn't itchy as he thought it would be, but rather felt like something was poking at it, like little pinpoint needles.

Over the next few days, both Blaze and Crimson fell victim to flat smallpox. The small rash extended from its starting point, eventually covering their entire bodies. The bumps became pustules, then scabs and finally scars. Crimson had died at home, refusing medical care despite the immense out of pain he was in. The pride he had in his work told him that it could be worse. Crimson died thinking he would go better than the rest. He died the most painful death of all.

Blaze had a similar death. She died in her home, without much to say for herself. Too weak to talk and in too much pain to even nod, she died in a little hospital in the town. A funeral was held in honor of her, one even the Wonderbolts attended in honor of her amazing flights. They were the only ponies who had come, and if the body had been shown rather than burned before the funeral, the Wonderbolts would be the cause of what's to come. We, however, have yet another character.

Crimson's body stank horribly, the odor of pus emanating from his home. His body was cremated as well, and a smaller funeral was held in his honor. Smallpox had claimed two victims. No matter how odd this disease was, despite it being the first time a doctor had seen something like this, no one thought back to that "giant fucking yo-yo."

Sheriff Blackclaw stood at his desk, looking at pictures he'd had Twilight send him. He was disturbed; honestly, truly disturbed by what he saw. He had seen the thing first hand, but she'd also sent him pictures of a normal human, perhaps to console him. It did nothing but worry him more. Coming from the griffon who'd "seen it all", it was bad when he was afraid. He knew something was up. This human wasn't right, as Twilight had told him. When he caught wind of the two deaths, he thought nothing of them, until he heard what their bodies were described as. His eyes widened as he whipped his head back and forth between the pictures. If this disease had caught on to two of his kind without direct contact, then how fast could this travel? Blackclaw was the first to catch on as to how bad this was. Twilight knew the facts. The doctors saw the disease. But the sheriff was the only one to notice the dark future ahead of them, and it loomed over him like a storm cloud.

Tainted Tears

As I've mentioned, we have a few characters that have not been introduced at all. I've been staying mostly on the griffon side, mostly because that's where I feel comfortable. Finally, I'll be able to make somewhat of a transition.

Most griffons are cocky, annoying, and in some cases, absolute assholes. You wouldn't mind blowing a hole right through the side of their head and watching their pitiful brain slosh around inside. Gilda, for example, was one of these types of griffons. If you knew her, you didn't talk about it. And if you talked about it, it usually wasn't friendly. Mostly all the places you'd hide her body.

She was a resident of Ponyville, and after the bad incident with Rainbow Dash and her friends, she'd stayed away from them as much as possible. It wasn't so much that they were lame; she'd just rather not hear about the magic of friendship or whatever bullshit they had to offer. She didn't want a second chance, she was happy with herself.

Mayor Mare found herself looking at a hopeful Rainbow Dash, one who hoped to find the obnoxious griffon. Sure, they had a stained past, but Rainbow had been her friend for a long time. Not to mention, she WAS the element of loyalty, so that kind of kicked her in the ribs. The mayor directed her to a small house on the edge of Ponyville. A clever move, considering most would look for her in the sky. Rainbow walked in just as Gilda was walking out.

"Oh, Gilda! Glad you're here!" Gilda looked at her, a look of confusion on her face.

"What do you want?" she asked in her generally snotty tone, but it wasn't generic. It sounded forced, and Rainbow picked up on it.

"Well, I was wondering if you'd like to fly around some time. I mean, I know we had a falling out, but I'm sure we can-" She was cut off pretty fast.

"Seriously?! I don't need a dweeb like you trying to be my friend again. Just buzz off, I'm not interested." Again, her tone was forced. Normally, Rainbow would've been fuming, but something wasn't right about Gilda. Then she noticed what was behind the griffon. Bags, lots and lots of bags, like she was- Oh Celestia, she's moving.

"Oh, jeez, really sorry. Just realized you're moving. So, uh, where to?" Gilda cocked an eyebrow, her general frown of irritation having become a worrisome smile.

"What's it to you?"

"Well, I'd wanted to be your friend, but I guess it's a little hard now." Gilda kept her smile plastered on her face. She was trying to be happy. "Are you alright? You look a little tense."

That was enough for Gilda. Grabbing her bags, she took off into the sky, moving to wherever she was going.

"Gee you're nice!" Rainbow yelled after her, but it was a bit too late. Gilda was gone, but Rainbow was left with mystery. She'd never seen Gilda ever that worried. Scared, maybe once or twice. This wasn't a scare. This was fear, deep and complex. Whatever it was, it wasn't good.

Gilda finally landed at her intended spot, right in the little town of Creston. She had heard they'd had issues there, and she decided that it would be good to check in on her parents. You can never be sure. Walking through the town, bodies slumped against homes was a common feature. I guess they're all tired, she thought, but it sure is odd that- Dear Celestia what is that smell?! Upon closer inspection, Gilda noticed the smallpox, although she didn't recognize what it was. The griffons she saw were all dead.

"Wha-what is this? You guys are really funny, huh?" she yelled, clearly distraught. No response. This wasn't a joke. The body was real. She started looking in on other homes. She found that about three quarters of the population was dead, and that this had become a large problem in other towns. What is going on, she thought. My parents! Thrusting out her wings, she flew full speed to their house. She found her mother cradling her father's dead body, both of them clearly sick. Her mother had only broken with pustules, but she would die in the following two days.

"M-mom? What happened?! What is this? Is there-" Her mother looked at her, as confident and stern as she had always been.

"Gilda, honey. I want you to do something for me. Could you do this?" Gilda nodded, a lump stuck in her throat. She was visibly distressed.

"Yes, mom. Anything, anything! Name it! I'll do it!" Her mother smiled sincerely, but it was a smile of regret as well.

"I want you to run. Run, run! Leave this place! It's a forbidden land. Leave, Gilda," she croaked. "If you keep any of this with you, know that I love you. If I live, I'll meet you again. But run. Please." Gilda nodded, the lump still stuck in her throat.

"I love you too, mom." She flew as she was commanded. Back to Ponyville it is, she thought, tears in her eyes.

So now, smallpox had claimed a region neighboring Equestria. Tragic fates met all its inhabitants. Any who survived the smallpox starved to death, as there was no one around to make food, and Equestria was unaware of the circumstances.

It's been said that griffons are the hardiest of creatures. You can make a griffon happy, irritated, excited, confused, and in a very rare occurrence, sad. Sincerely, honestly, sad. Whether it be guilt, shame, or any other reason, it's incredibly hard to make a griffon sad. But you will never, ever, in the lifetime of your entire family, see a griffon cry. That day, however, the old legend proved false. The streets were filled with wailing and mourning, dead bodies being heaped and burned while the burners themselves already started to die. When Celestia looked back on this months later, she was truly frightened.

"I am utterly, truly shocked. Nothing seemed to bring a proud race of superior strength, skill, and competition like the griffons down. They were cutthroat, 'succeed or fail' society. If this smallpox virus could bring a nation like that to its knees, then I know for sure that the virus is the most deadly thing in existence.

A Matter of Time and Idiots

At this point, Twilight Sparkle had already begun deep research into smallpox. Of course, it didn't come as a surprise to her when she found that it traveled via the air, because, like most viruses, it had chosen the deadliest path possible. She hadn't thought much about it. It traveled by air, so what? So did the common cold, and there was no reason this was any different.

It wasn't until Celestia was notified about Creston's conditions that smallpox was being taken seriously.

"Sheriff, you've called me before! What do you need now? We've got a surplus of food if you need- Wait...what are you talking about? What's happened over there?" The following half-hour chat resulted in an immediate confrontation with the nation's top biologist. "Twilight, go back to Creston. Things have gone south, and fast." She made a mental facehoof at the pun she just made (the Griffon Nation was to the south of Equestria). Twilight immediately packed her equipment and booked it to Creston, where she found quite easily the most heart-wrenching scene possible.

The town was in pretty good condition. Contrary to how most abandoned towns are framed, the houses and streets were not ravaged. It looked like an ordinary town. It was just, well, empty. But it was full at the same time. In her bio suit, Twilight was lucky enough to not smell the overwhelming stench of death and decay as she approached. Her stomach grew sick. While none of these griffons were her friends, she felt extremely sorrowful for them. In their own company, they never knew how fast it'd go. The disease spread fast, and- Oh, no. Twilight's heart stopped, chills going up and down her spine. There was no way the last griffons saw what was happening around them and stayed. They must have left, meaning that...Twilight's eyes widened. The entire griffon population was at stake.

"No..no no no no no!" she murmured, but she already knew it was over. For every griffon with the disease, at least 5 more would get infected in a day. AT LEAST. Despite her sorrow, Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. Equestria was usually off limits to griffons, and they only meddled in our business when it came to a national threat. This was a sad day, for sure, but in that moment, Twilight felt truly grateful that her nation had been spared.

Gilda had shut herself up at home, crying relentlessly for hours on end. Tissues lay everywhere, and her eyes were red from her sobbing. It was understandable. Her mother's final words to her were sorrowful, sincere, and full of warning. Gilda could only imagine what terrible fate had befallen her parents. She didn't know what had happened to them or why it had. Her thoughts were dark and regretful. Why hadn't I helped before?! I should have talked to them more! Gilda sank into depression and she grew only angrier with herself. And to top it all off, she thought, I have a headache.

Twilight began experimenting with smallpox. She knew what it was now, and she had found what it could do. Now it was all about the vaccine. But she needed to know if there was a vaccine. According to the history she researched, there was not. What was done, however, was take cowpox, a pox that effects cows mercilessly but is harmless to humans, and inject it into the bloodstream, so the immune system begins to put up defenses against pox. It's not a solution, but something to quarantine an area with. Perhaps, she thought, it wouldn't be necessary. If ponies simply keep out of the Griffon Nation, then it wouldn't spread. However, that didn't stop griffons from flying out. However, nothing lived in the town. Anything that had survived smallpox had died of thirst soon after, because almost everything around it was dead.

In the following days, Twilight issued quarantines under the watch of Princess Celestia. Equestria was told the virus was non-lethal to ponies, but in case it was, it was lowering the risk. Of course, no pony knew if that was true or not, not even Twilight. It'd be a matter of time, and however many idiots decided to cross into Equestria.

Gilda had finally decided to go out, despite the bad headache. Groceries, entertainment, or just local news, she had to do something. But she was the vent for smallpox in Ponyville, where smallpox's impact in Equestria started. Every cough or sneeze could hold up to billions of virus particles. Like a great steel mill, she threw the virus everywhere, but she coughed up a pollution much worse than smoke.

Twilight soon discovered, however, there was no cowpox. It existed back on Earth, but on their planet, cowpox wasn't around. There was no real way to contain the virus. Even if quarantined, it would fester in the griffon's land until weather and time took their tolls, and the containment was breached. Now, it was only a matter of protecting Equestria.

Many ponies began moving into Canterlot, and because they moved early, they were not infected with smallpox. This would eventually lead to a "final stand" against smallpox. They were all afraid that any cities near the Griffon Nation would become victims of the new virus. However, the clueless ones, who made up more than half of the population, remained as happy as they had always been, while the smallpox predator hunted, its steely eyes looking, searching for a new target. Prey would be found. And it would be found fast.

A Brief Summary of the Ravaging of a Well-Known Town

While I know some may be sick of it, I cannot help but stress the significance of smallpox. We've been over this point a lot, but I feel that, if not pointed out, it can deter the feeling of the story. Smallpox is a mystery, and a deadly one at that. Only two laboratories are meant to have smallpox, which is kept in freezers, one of those being the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta, Georgia. We've been warned before, however. "If you think smallpox exists in only two freezers in the world, then you need to understand the way the world works: don't believe everything you're told."

Twilight already knew what was coming. She already knew that the griffon's had been thrown to the lions. Lions covered in pustules and smallpox dripping from their fangs. Of course, her gut was the first to tell her something was wrong. It's one of those feelings: you can shake it off and say it's alright, but it will never go away. What was the missing link she was looking for?

Gilda actually managed to survive smallpox. Her body still covered in scars, it took a long time for her body to finally fight it off. It wasn't common. "Bastard hit me hard. But when you've everything you knew, you have nothing to do but get back up." These were some of her last quotes before she died decades later, as she recounted her experience with smallpox. She was the last griffon to die.

Twilight had started taking the precaution of bringing a bio suit everywhere she went. It was shocking to her, realizing that the need for such an object was so vital. She'd made a mental note to craft some for the princesses. What came as more of a shock, however, was her new position. Twilight was no longer a top biologist; she had become the leader for commanding safety requirements. Celestia, although she had many years of experience, did not know much about diseases or humans for that matter. When you govern an empire, you don't have much time on your hands. Twilight had begun calling the shots on quarantines, regular health checks, food contamination, and so on. At one point, she had even demanded Celestia and her sister stay at Canterlot. She also had her friends moved, for fear they would get infected. She couldn't say why, and although Rarity was delighted, Twilight struggled to keep a secret like this hidden. This was when Twilight began doing serious experimentation with smallpox.

She didn't know what it was. It traveled through the blood, and it infected the entire body. Twilight put on her bio suit. In her lab was where she felt most safe. Even her hometown felt alien to her, and that was a shame.

It feared Twilight. It was unlike anything she'd seen before. She had taken blood samples from dead griffons, and had seen the effects of it. The blood was utterly destroyed, and there wasn't much to be seen, just a mess of what was once cells.

In the following week, Twilight refused to leave her bio-suit. It worried the people of Ponyville as she scanned for any signs of smallpox. Seeing an official such as Twilight in a protective suit was usually a bad sign. She couldn't find any signs of it, and that made her smile just a little bit. The quarantines were successful. Smallpox had not breached into Equestria. For once, she felt at peace in the world around her.

Ahahaha. Do you really think it would stay out? Of course not. Sure, it looked fine from the surface. But many things do. Smallpox had bubbled up, thanks to our lovely feathered friend, and the incubation period was almost over. Within a week, Twilight returned. She was in no way prepared for what she saw. It looked like a mirror image of the Creston. Smallpox-ridden ponies roamed the streets, crying for help and a relief to the pain. Something caught her eye. Mrs. Cake, lying against her shop, holding her two babies close to her.

She herself had broken with the disease, and her face was clustered with small pustules. Her babies, lifeless in her arms, dangled limply. Twilight listened. Was she..was she humming? Mrs. Cake had begun to hum a lullaby to her children.

"Mrs. Cake...." She looked up, looking almost happy to see Twilight.

"Oh, Twilight," she said, a false look of pleasure on her face. "Glad you've come. Could you hold my babies quickly? They're very sleepy, and I need to go get them some food." Tears sprang to Twilight's eyes.

"Mrs. Cake..." She couldn't form any more words. A knot formed in her throat. Mrs. Cake was a friend, and here she was, clearly out of her mind and getting food for her dead children. She had ran off to find something. Twilight laid the bodies down. She was at wit's end. This is it, she thought. My town, my friends. It's all going to fade away. She collapsed on the ground, the sounds of air in her suit and Mrs. Cake's lullaby the last things she heard before slipping into unconsciousness.