Synthetic Solution

Synthetics.

One of the most difficult sciences to this date, even in its early days. In the beginning, there was only a few ponies, a lot of alcohol, and a dream. A dream where, in the future, the world could be built from synthetic ponies who obey every command without question. This was a terrifying prospect to think about for the few that thought about it, and thusly they drank profusely until that terror went away.

Once they were suitably drunk and ready to commit crimes against nature in order to achieve their goal, they threw themselves right into the fray. Their first problem was finding a way to create an A.I. sophisticated enough that it would have “conscious thoughts”. It was crucial in order to create a working army of robotic ponies in order to have them be able to think critically, solve problems, and hold proper conversations with their soon-to-be masters.

Soon after they solve that problem, their next step was to create the overall look to them. Appealing to the eye, hopefully not creepy like that one time where someone scribbled out one of the elements on the periodic table and drew in red ink a spooky ghost at the recreation center. No one could go in there for weeks until one brave soul stood up and said “Guys! It’s just a drawing!”, went inside the center, and was never seen again until a few months later where she was found in a dumpster out back chewing on dead mice with an insane look in her eyes.

All in all, it was simply astonishing how far they had gotten considering the chain of incompetence in their ranks. They would have gotten further, if it were not for the bombs blotting out the sky and burning their homes, loved ones, cats, lab coats (especially the lab coats), and grant money to the ground in atom splitting explosions and magic induced combustions.

Balefire warfare can do that to ponykinds progression in the technological tree. If it weren’t for the war, science would have reached a level where inter-dimensional travel was feasible, allowing visitation and colonization in other dimensions that are at least perpendicular with their own. One for instance, which was at a perfect 90 degree angle on the spatial plane of infinity, had a direct gateway to a planet similar to their own that was filled with bipedal, hairless apes who progressively drive themselves into the apocalypse by purposefully destroying their atmosphere, global climate, and personal relationships with each other. It was simply to just laugh at them really as ponykind had already solved this issue long before they did timeline wise.

Nevertheless, civilization was destroyed along with any progress the ponies had. The mainland, Equestria, was set back almost hundreds of years thanks to the brutal destruction set upon them by a continent near it that was chock full of horses with stripes covering them from head to keratin tipped hoof. They were also, observed by a soldier on the Equestrian side, “extremely boring to look at” as all of them were black and white. They were zebras, and they absolutely hated Equestria. So, they bombed the continent to Tartarus and sunk the once great empire into such a state that their own seemingly untouchable government collapsed from neglect.

Not all was lost, however. Ponies had created, before such calamity occurred, a system of bomb-proof bunkers called “Stables”, which were underground domiciles produced by a tech company named Stable-Tech. Stables were to be, in sense, storage containers to protect what is left of ponykind from certain death. Their creation, most definitely, was sketchy at best. However, that is a different story entirely and will not be covered here.

Equestria was not the only place to be bombed by the zebras. Other smaller islands that are part of the empire were targeted as well, decimating ponies who had thought they were safe due to their remote location from the empire’s heartland. However, they misjudged the zebra’s ruthlessness, and had paid the price for it.

One island of these particular few just so happens to be the one that houses a large corporation that specializes in synthetics. Just off the east coast, an indiscernible distance from Manehatten itself, lies an entire island converted into one big city. Every acre of land is covered with concrete towers dedicated to industrial life, every inch occupied by ponies of high stature, wealth, and power from the greatest of ponies, to the lowliest of the homeless.

This is not a story about the exceedingly rich. This is also not a story about the poorest soul who can’t even afford affording to afford. It is borderline a story about a pony, a scientist rather, who had decided that enough was enough and threw himself into an unfinished and exceedingly unsafe cryo pod just moments before the bombs hit his company’s tower, and fill a specially crafted memory orb with everything from his name to what year it is. His reason is never told to anyone, as he simply just went ahead and did it without anyone’s consent whatsoever.

Who is this stallion anyway? Even he doesn’t know, not anymore at least. If you are so inclined to figure out his conundrum, well congratulate yourself because you’re going to end up reading so many plot holes your brain will slap a helium mask onto itself and blissfully pass in its sleep to never have to deal with such abuse again. Probably.

Exaggeration of the possible plot holes in the future aside, let us just get this out of the way. This particular stallion goes by the harrowingly normal name Onyx. Bowtie. That’s his full name, yes. And before you consider the name, he indeed has a bowtie, albeit unwashed and rarely sees a moment away from its owner. Soon enough, that conglomeration of silk and cotton is going to have so many life-threateningly awful things happen to it that in time it will end up trying to convince its owner that maybe, just maybe, he should settle down and stay in one wonderfully dull place until it gets consumed by terrifyingly grotesque moths.

But enough about that. Ice is the main issue here.