Soundwave couldn’t complain about his life. A unicorn studying at the Manehattan University of Technology is a unicorn with difficult but great future ahead. There he was, more than eager to enter the world of rapid invention and machinery. He got a job at home earlier, when moving to Manehattan; he found a friend at another university to share a flat with; he didn’t miss out on family events, monthly paid a visit to the relatives in the country, and wrote letters to them. All in all, his life was on the right track.
Yet he was frustrated.
This frustration came with his job: somepony called him to repair something, that something generally being a device, and he got bits in return. This frustration came from repairing things for the second or third time, from reasoning with stubborn customers, and from being a target for those who occasionally throw eggs and other breakable objects on hoof at him. This phenomenon most often occurred at the university after a long-winded, boring speech, and was the reason why he never spoke up when somepony brought a watermelon.
That day, he burst the door open in that frustration. He trotted in, snorting, mumbling and occasionally groaning. His horn was surrounded with his blue aura that matched his eyes, carrying a large carton box behind. He threw it at the door of his room before slamming the entrance shut and going in the kitchen to open the cupboards and the freezer. Their depths, dark, deprived of any sentient life, contained secrets unknown and best left untold – as a result, nopony cleaned it regularly. He used his magic to levitate bread, apple and some vegetables out. He cut a slice from the apple and began chewing on it, then proceeded to make a sandwich.
With perfect timing, a long, high-pitched creak snuck its way into the room. He turned around and froze.
A dark brown pegasus stood at the door of his room, messy mane and tail, along with wrinkles under the bright blue eyes indicated that he had been still sleeping. His cutie mark was a dark blue gust of wind with a grey star above it.
The knife and the sandwich components were floating in the air with endless patience. Under them, Soundwave stopped chewing, and just stood there with a blank expression. The pegasus just watched, eyes halfway closed.
Half a minute passed this way.
“You know, this is getting a little too frequent,” the pegasus broke the silence. He was not amused. “It is the fifth time you wake me up, and I had to call Gorge once to fix up the door.”
No response for another half a minute, just the blank expression. Then, as if his brain completed processing, Soundwave started chewing again, and didn’t answer until the food was down his throat.
“Somepony needs to wake you up before lunch,” he shrugged.
“There are other ponies in this block besides you, Sounds,” the brown one said. “I don’t think they’re glad to hear you’re having a bad day again.”
“It’s because Radar’s lock broke… for the third time!” Soundwave groaned in angst while continuing to make the sandwich. “You don’t realize how painfully complicated that thing is. I have to be so careful with that lock, it’s a nightmare how small the parts are, and this is the last time I agreed to repair it. Do you want some cereal, Quicksilver?” He sighed, levitating a bowl and a box of sugary cereal out of the cupboard. Quicksilver nodded while getting some milk out of the fridge.
“Are you off to work again today?” He asked sitting by the cupboard, watching cereal pour out the box and into the bowl.
„I think so,” Soundwave sighed. „I’ll take a look at the lock. And this here,” – he pointed at the box thrown conveniently in the doorway – „is from the post office. The postmare left a note to pick it up, so I went ahead.” He finished the perfect sandwich and took a bite before he asked: „What awout wou?”
„I’ll sleep over, night class is tiring,” he answered. „But if you spit your food all over me, I’m gonna have a shower.”
“Sowwy.” Soundwave spat out some more of the sandwich before getting shoved away. Shrugging, he levitated the box out of his way, and closed his door, refusing escape from the sandwich and the box.
His room was just big enough for him. At one side, there was his untidied bed and a desk with a thousand books still waiting to get sorted and put on the shelves built above. A window let Soundwave take in the rushing and crammed Manehattan street below. On the other side of the room stood a worktable with cardboard boxes sitting by, holding cables, tiny crystals, screwdrivers and the like. Such is the irony of organizing.
With a great sigh, Soundwave sat down, dropping a tiny, lock-shaped gadget on his table – Why is this so small, anyway? It only makes my job more painful. –, along with a screwdriver, a magnifying glass, numerous tiny crystals and other metal pieces from the surrounding cardboard boxes. He took another bite before sitting down and surrounding all the objects in his magical aura.
The unicorn was at his third sandwich when he had finally found and eliminated the problem. He was already growing short of vegetables, and was in dire need to go shopping. The broken part got levitated into a junk-box, and the lock, now repaired, was put aside. Soundwave took a minute to relax and blow his straight, a little messy, striped mane out of his eyes. It got in the way when Sound didn’t want it to, all the time, just like stubborn customers and eggs.
After clearing the table from unnecessary things, from the box came flying a radio. Quite a large beast, he found, probably for parties, considering its size. However he was looking, though, he found no instruction in the box about the problem, which he tended to get if he didn’t get to talk in pony with the customer. Not that he had to look hard for problems: much like half of the handle, the antenna was gruesomely torn off in half. Some of the buttons were missing from their places, instead the space was occupied by springs, the housing was cracked, and some of it scratched. It looked much like if a drunken mare had flung it at somepony but only hit the wall. Four times.
Nothing else really seemed damaged. He checked the springs, took off the housing, had a look at the wires, but everything else looked fine. This one sure can take hits.
In a fair amount of time, he sealed the housing with magic, replaced the antenna and the buttons, and a few old bolts he found. Given that he didn’t want to hand it out unfinished or still faulty – and thus sparing his energy and time –, he had to test the radio before posting it back to its owner. He had no clue if Quicksilver was sleeping by this time, although Soundwave decided to put headphones up, just in case.
He was about to try how the radio broadcasts, and thus he lifted the antenna and turned the machine on.
A silent, deep humming was all he got. Soundwave sat patiently, watching – or rather, hearing – as the sound grew louder. It was a lot similar like the hum of magic; however, he wasn’t supposed to hear that. It was on a very low frequency which – he was taught – no known creature was supposed to detect. He frowned in confusion, but kept waiting. Slowly, a static noise appeared behind the humming, then a mare’s unintelligible voice. He carefully nudged the antenna to catch the magical energy the radio needed.
“– seeking your advice. I repeat, this is Sol Slash calling HQ, Agent Number seventy-four, Squad fourteen taking action by the plan of Operation Raindown, seeking your advice. I have successfully invaded the control room and disarmed the guard, rendering him unconscious. I have no information of my comrades’ actions or locations yet. What am I to do next? Over.”
Soundwave hesitated in his confuse. This is not a usual broadcast.
“H-Hello?” he began, uncertain of what to say. Suddenly a book came to his mind. He had a faint memory of it discussing how communicating through a radio works. Even though it was mostly applied to radio towers, he tried his best. “This is Soundwave, do you read me?”
A few moments passed with nothing but silence.
“Who in Tartarus are you?” All the formality disappeared from the mare’s voice, instead, her tone became disbelieving and angry.
“University student at Manehattan,” he answered, shrugging. Not that Sol Slash could see that. “How did you manage to call me? Who are you, anyway? What–”
“Look, I’ll make this quick.” Sol’s voice became threatening. „Whoever you are, whatever your intentions may be, or however you got in there, I do not care. Once you’re inside that building, there’s no escape. That place is surrounded by our fearless guards that would sacrifice their lives for the ONE, not to mention the amount of explosives we keep downstairs, so if you try anything nasty, you’re a goner.” – Meanwhile, Soundwave casually swallowed the last bite of his sandwich. – „You won’t make it easier on you if you start lying. Wherever your agents are, they are not safe from us. Soon, we will catch them on business, and when we do, Equestria will finally be safe.” A moment of pause was spent in silence coming from both sides. “I suggest you do not look behind you. They shoot on sudden movement.”
Soundwave slowly turned around, only to find no one in the room looking guard-like, or pointing any sharp, loud or watermelon objects at him.
“Just a moment,” he declared with a deeply puzzled look on his face. The headphones levitated down from his head when he stood up from the chair, and walked to the window. The usual rush of Manehattan greeted him, nothing looked off in particular. He looked around in the room, checked under the bed, behind the door, but only found a Quicksilver, washing the dishes.
He sat down again, putting the headphones back on his ears. “I’m afraid you’re wrong, Sol. Nopony is here,” he said.
A few seconds passed with silence.
“So, you’re not at HQ.”
“Not at all.”
“Then where are you?”
“In Manehattan, I already told you.”
“How’s life under that rock? That city was destroyed last week!”
Followed by a short pause in their conversation, Sol heard a sigh from the other side. “Look, I’m quite certain you’re just one of my neighbours pulling a prank on me. I’m sorry for shutting the door so loud, alright? I don’t want to deal with you Friday afternoon.”
“It’s Wednesday ni–”
“I don’t care!” Sound raised his voice before realizing what the mare just said, or rather, began saying. “Wait… I know for a fact it’s Friday today, what’s the deal?”
From the other side, the unicorn could hear beeps, switches and buttons being pushed, and Sol Slash’s grumbling. Two minutes of beeps, growling and some cursing later, she cleared her throat to break the somewhat disturbing pause.
“Well,” the mare spoke up, “my calculations show a slight chance of impossible. Can you check the date?”
Soundwave shot a glance at the calendar on the other wall. “It’s Friday, the 17th of March, 1979. What’s your point?”
“I... uh...” Sol seemed to have difficulties with the task of talking. “Very well...”
“Are you determined to waste my time?”
“According to my results, if what you say is the otherwise scientifically impossible truth, at this very moment, you’re–” she held the sound longer than Soundwave was comfortable with her doing so “– two thousand one-hundred and forty-three years, seven months, sixteen days and three hours late compared to me, give or take a few minutes and seconds. Do the math, peasant. ”
Sound now officially declared this afternoon as nonsense, hooves down, period.
“So, you’re saying I’m talking to you while you’re two thousand years later? Which means you’re two thousand years younger than me and so on?”
“It appears so.”
That was impossible. Nothing made sense anymore. Not the day, the calendar, Soundwave, Sol Slash, the radio, the walls, none of it.
“You’re telling me you’re from the future?”
“I hoped you would get it sooner. If this was a reaction test, you would’ve failed miserably.”
It took a few moments, but eventually, Soundwave regained his lost attention and interest, taking in the excitement of the strange event.
“You are from the future? No joke?! This is awesome!” His face would’ve made Sol’s day. It read ‘excitement’ while staring into infinity. “How does it look like? Is it all... futuristic? How’s life in the future? Did we finish mapping the world?”
“About that, I’m–”
“What about rockets? Did we conquer the Moon?”
“We’re kind of busy for th– ”
“Did we get the permission from the Griffin Empire to bring The Planet of the Birds into the cinemas?”
To let Sound ask all his questions, Sol didn’t attempt to talk anymore, which resulted in more silence. Since he didn’t have any more questions, Sol continued:
“Currently, according to the Eq–”
“What about locks? Are there better locks in the future? And technology?”
“You know, you alone are as annoying as five hamsters.”
“Is life better in the future? Or is it easier?”
“SHUT UP!” The mare shouted, to which a quieter ’sorry’ was the answer. “If you have nothing else to ask right now,” – Sol heard a ’not really’ from the other side – “then I’ll inform you; I can’t open the door, it’s most likely stuck. I don’t have any explosives or crowbars on me, and I can’t seem to catch the frequency I’m looking for, either. Until the ONE answers my rescue signal, I’m trapped in this room with you in the radio.” She let out a sigh, almost as if she foresaw her terrible doom talking to this unknowing peasant from the past.
“So you’ll answer my questions?”
“It seems I don’t have much of a choice, other than boredom. And, why not, I suppose I can explain you some things about your distant future. But please, please try asking something more... intelligent.”
Sound could feel Sol’s unimpressed glare from ages away. What would be intelligent to ask in such a case anyway, he wondered.
“How come we can talk just like that in the first place?” For a first, he found this thing good enough to question.
“I’d imagine you know that, but who knows, I’ll tell you: considering technology, we’re way more advanced than we were in your time,” he heard the reply. “Planning to contact the past began about fifty years ago. The progress was slow, because nopony knew what would happen in case of a ‘paradox’, or to make it easier on you, inconsistency in time.”
She could feel the dumb look Sound gave to the radio.
“I’m not going to explain it right now. Basically, under ‘progress’, they meant ideas and theories. In the end, some genius ex machina managed to contact somepony, but they only had one day between them.”
“So how come you could contact me?”
“The government doesn’t give every information out. There is always a chance they’re one step further than they say they are. In my case, well–“ Sol hesitated to continue “–I got access to a... I’m in an area where... If I were to explain it, you wouldn’t understand half of what I’m saying. I’ll leave it.”
“Whatever you say,” Soundwave sighed, slightly disappointed. However, another question came to his mind. “So, what’s up over there? Who’s on the throne?”
Sol put her thoughts together. “It is currently 4122 A. D. by Official Equestrian Calendar, and the New Western Equestrian Empire is governed under the rule of… Royal… Phrncess Twhlght Hrmrhmrm.” The last words came through as some kind of muttering.
“Pardon me?”
“Rawyl Prinhnhn…” Sol seemed to be struggling with the name: every time she tried saying it, Sound could only hear her snorts and stubborn grumbling.
“Have you got something in your teeth?”
“Royal Princess Twilight Sparkle! There you go!” the mare said before doing something that sounded like grinding teeth.
“Twilight Sparkle? But… she just had her coronation, three months ago! The entire kingdom was partying for one week straight in Canterlot!”
“See what I mean?! She’s been royalty for more than two thousand years! Apparently, it takes long to learn how to govern an Empire! It’s been more than two ages, and she still shouldn’t be in charge! She didn’t learn anything from her mistakes, she knows nothing! Nothing!” At this point, Sol was almost shouting. Soundwave just stared at the radio with a weird look while Sol took her time catching her breath.
Finally, she sighed. “Forgive me, I hate that mare, but more about that later. Considering her position, she is the head of the Palelight Council – her personal council –, and the Archmage of the Order of Wizardry and its every field. I, myself, can’t keep record of how many memberships she has, just like with the titles. She’s been ’The Light to the New Era’s Candle’, ’The Fair Lady of Sundown’, ’Ultimate Successor of Princess Celestia’, ’Retriever of Our Sacred Legendary MacGuffin’, and the like.”
“Isn’t that a bright future,” Soundwave muttered, impressed. That is some serious worshipping. “How is she doing so far? What’s the Empire like?”
“Two-thirds of the population is in a civil war. The rest is just in poverty or starving.”
Sound took a few moments to process the sentences, eyes fixed on the radio. “… Oh. But why?”
“I was just about to explain that. You see, Twilight Sparkle...” She let out another sigh. “That weak-hoofed Twilight Sparkle. Charging her with leading an entire nation was the worst idea anypony could’ve possibly come up with. She knows nothing about leading. Long story short, Princess Celestia had the idiotic thought it is her time to step down and make way for her student to reign. This, of course, lead to disaster, and that is where I, or should I say, we come in.
“There are us, the group called ONE, standing for Opposers of the New Empire. We’re trying to overthrow Twilight while not attracting much attention. Ever since she called us out by name, claiming that we are ’terrorists’ and ’pests that need to be crushed’, this has been harder. Ever since then, we are semi-actively looked out for.” Soundwave found himself eagerly listening to Sol. „Call it fortune or not, but our numbers aren’t high. This hinders our pursuers’ work and benefits us. We aren’t short on new members, though; we tend to get one-two hundred per month on average.”
“Isn’t that a little too much?”
“Our numbers are in the ten thousands, so no, that is actually very few.”
“Ten thousands?! How come they didn’t find you yet?”
“Compare a few ten thousand to eighty million, which is the most recent result in counting the population. It is fifteen years old.”
Soundwave started counting on his hoof, shortly realizing he doesn’t have fingers.
“Then there is that group, the opposers of both us and the Empire. They are the enemy of all. Nopony has found a member of them yet, and for that, they are pursued even more than us. Sometimes, they write grim messages and futuretellings on walls, and many believe them. On occasion, they make friends oppose each other. They are everywhere, in every alleyway, in every narrow dead-end. They live in a pony’s shadow and keep their greatest secrets among themselves, laughing inside. It seems like they’ll never be chased down, always having an escape route. They bring the sight of a darkest end to this civil war.”
“Are you sure you’re not describing high school students?” The response to Soundwave’s question was disapproving silence. “Yes? No? ...Alright. I guess they’re not that bad, but you never know.”
“They were the ones who brought explosives into Manehattan under the cover of the night, and everypony near the city woke to the sound of detonation and screams. Only very few survived that morning. And now, we are being chased because of their disrespectful move, their failed and foolish attempt on uprising.”
“Hold on, weren’t you the ones who blew up the city?”
“As I said, we were called ‘terrorists’. I only told you we have explosives because... well... we do, but that’s beside my point. We’re not just throwing around bars of TNT and igniting them to see what happens. Especially not near ponies. Our aim is to turn them to our side, and weapons barely help the cause.”
Soundwave nodded, mostly to himself, indicating he understood the important bits.
“I’m sorry if I’m a burden to you–”
“No big deal, you only waste half of my time.”
Sound snorted. “What about the other princesses? They’re immortal after all, surely they would notice if Twilight screws up anything.”
“That’s another problem. Princess Celestia is dead.”
The words hit the stallion like a bird hits a window. He used a few moments to pull himself back into reality – well, the current reality. Celestia is fine, get yourself together, he told himself.
“How did that happen?”
“Don’t ask me. One morning, she was found like that, lying on the floor. No wounds, no sickness, no traces of magic, no chemicals, as if nothing happened to her. That afternoon, the entire news was filled with the incident called ‘the perfect crime’. And this was three months ago, just in time on the anniversary of her ‘successor’s’ coronation.”
A chill ran down Sound’s spine. “What about Princess Luna?”
“Two months before Celestia’s death, she disappeared without a–...” she stopped for a moment. “Well, the masses were told she was gone without a trace, but I know somepony in my squad who has an ear in the government. He said Luna left a note in her room, but no one mentioned what it said. Did I mention we want her on the throne?”
“Are you crazy?!” The unicorn most likely startled the mare with his voice. “Weren’t you taught that tale about Nightmare Moon? I mean, sure, Luna may be back, but does that mean she’s ready to rule? More ready than Twilight? No!”
“Keep in mind, peasant, it’s been two millennia since Luna returned. She learnt a lot over the centuries, and is now respected for what she has done. One example is she had found a way to fuse crystals. It’s thanks to her I have my wings back.”
“What do you–”
“No time to explain.”
A few moments went by in silence before Soundwave realized it’s his turn to ask.
“And why are some of you starving? Don’t you have orchards?”
“You see, our technology is way more advanced than our magical knowledge. Most of us are still wondering why are there active research groups dedicated to magic, seeing how research takes such a long time. In your time, I believe you used magic to grow crops and manipulate weather to your advantage. This wouldn’t work in our time. We can’t control the weather so we can’t benefit from it, some areas can’t be cultivated, et cetera.”
Some background noises came from Sol’s side. Some muffled arguing was followed by hoofsteps and loud banging on metal, those two from Sol, considering how loud they were.
“I’m here! I’m in here, guys!” she yelled. Some more muffled conversation later, she turned – or so Sound imagined – back to him. “Turn down your volume.”
“Why should I–” Before he could finish, a loud screech shot into his ears. Surprised, he shoved the headphones off his head, but still could hear the sound trying his headphones’ limits. As if metal fought metal to bend and deform each other. At last, the ear-splitting noise died, and the headphones were back on Sound’s ears.
“And this is where our little chat will end,” Sol sighed in relief. “This was the longest fifteen minutes of my life. I sincerely wish our paths will never cross again, Soundwave. Out.”
“Have a nice day!” Sound wasn’t sure if the mare basically said ‘good day to you’ or ‘go to Tartarus’, or if she heard his last sentence. For a couple seconds the radio went dead silent, then, as if nothing happened, played the news for broadcast material.
Soundwave leaned back with a great sigh, rocking the chair on its legs and laughing to himself a little. This doesn’t make sense.
The door opened to reveal a Quicksilver.
“Are you talking to yourself again, Sounds?” he asked. “You woke me up. I don’t want to go to the doctor’s with you.”
“I didn’t even make it there last time,” Sound replied, eyes on the ceiling, moving around as he took the time to rethink the past... was it fifteen minutes? Half an hour? He couldn’t tell. “When I had got out of your sight, I made a run for it. Sometimes I wish you wouldn’t think I’m an idiot.”
A few seconds passed with Quicksilver looking Soundwave up and down.
“You get one guess about what I was doing all the while,” Sound turned to Silver with a bright look. “I just talked to a mare, who was from the future!”
No reaction came, just that concerned, displeased impression he always puts on when somepony talks nonsense to him. Sound couldn’t judge him. It was nonsense after all.
“Sometimes I get the feeling life would be easier if I wasn’t sharing a home with you,” Silver groaned. He left the flat with heavy-sounding steps, probably to attend another class at his university.
Sound was now alone in the room, with a frown of confusion on his face. His aura suddenly surrounded the radio and put in back in its box. He didn’t want to send the machine back, but after all, he did his job.
Well, he thought to himself while packing, that went better than I expected.
