Chapter 11: A Fitting Epitaph

I carefully removed the barrel from the rifle and put both pieces in my saddlepacks. We ran out and I burst through the door for the millionth time. I hopped on Mr. Guy.

"Alph, can you carry Comedy Gold?" I asked, "We need to get out of here, like now."

"Uh-maybe," she said.

"Good enough for me," I said, "Comedy, just don't look down."

I hoisted Comedy onto Alph's back, who appeared to be able to hold her weight.

"Now hol-!" she said. But Alph was already in the air. Comedy began to grow very afraid. Her eyes widened as she lifted off the ground.

"I do not approve of this!" shouted Comedy.

"Not now!" I said, "I'll draw their attention, just get out of Fillydelphia!"

Alph nodded and took off. Comedy was absolutely still, like a sack of scrap metal slung over Alph's back. I looked back and I paled. A group of griffin mercenaries were making their way to me. And fast.

"Mr. Guy," I said, "What's battery level?"

"Battery level is at 12% sir," he said, "Estimated flight time is 4.76 minutes."

"Shit," I said, "Shit, shit, shit!"

I jumped off Mr. Guy and brought out the Hydra again. I pushed a full clip in and fired several rounds at the griffins. The gun made huge metallic noises as it fired. They may have been able to dodge gunfire, but they certainly couldn't dodge explosions ten times the size of an incendiary grenade. Two were blown up on the first shot. The second shot went wide. The third shot killed five more. Now there were only eighteen and they had begun to shoot at me.

Luckily, they were using sub machine guns, so any of the few bullets that did hit me didn't do much but make me stumble a little. I pulled out the twin combat shotguns and attached them to  my battle saddle. I reloaded the drums just as the griffins came up on me. The landed and surrounded me in a semi-circle. Time seemed to slow down as I fired the shotguns, one after the other, mowing down the griffins as if they were nothing. I got thirteen, but the others began to shoot. I was aware of two rifle rounds entering my chest. I stumbled, tears in my eye, but I continued firing.

Eventually, they managed to get me down. I was aware that I had been shot with maybe a dozen rifle rounds, and two hollow points. I was bleeding profusely and tears ran down my cheek from the pain. I managed to drink a healing potion before they handcuffed me. They knocked it out of my hand before I could drink the whole thing.

As my vision tunneled, I could see Red Eye walking up to me. He kicked me in the face and I blacked out.

When I woke up, I was in a cell. I sat up and checked my back. Not surprisingly my hooves were still there. There was an emergency protocol in the case that I go unconscious, it welds itself shut and all my metal plating tightens to prevent further injury. When I wake up, it cut's itself open again. However, my hand was gone. Just in case, I reached and put on the hydraulic hoof. It couldn't cut through the bars, but it was suited in case I were attacked.

I was aware I had a cell mate. He was burly and powerful. He eyed me down, as if wondering if he could take me. I fixed him with a glare, using my bionic eye to full advantage. He looked at the black socket and sat back down. I sat in the center of the cell and looked at the bars. They were too thick to bend. I decided on waiting.

So I sat there. And waited. For hours. Eventually a guard brought some gruel. I took the bowl and gulped it down in one fell swoop. The stallion behind me walked up and picked up his bowl. He sat and ate it without speaking.

And I waited again. I began to dismantle my bed, taking it apart and crafting it smaller and sturdier. When I was done, I took it apart again. This time I built a sculpture. It was the skeleton of a pony, minus the head. I dismantled it again and put it back together. I dismantled it again.

"Get up," I said turning to the stallion. He looked at me with  a glare. I glared back. He got up and I dismantled his bed. Then I took my bed pieces and his, and made a bed that fit his body. I put both mattresses on it and he laid back on it without a word. I sat there. With nothing to do. I looked around the cell and found a window. I looked out the window and found nothing. It was just a wall.

"What's the purpose of a window if you can't see nothing?" I said aloud. I walked back and sat down again. I looked outside the cell and saw no pony else. I turned in for the night. The cell floor was hard, but I had slept in worse.

When I woke up again, there was banging on the cell door. I looked up to see somepony on the edge of my vision.

"You there, Black Eye?" said the figure.

"Eh?" I said without looking up, "What do you want?"

"I'm willing to get you out if you tell me something," said the pony.

"I'm listening," I said.

"Is it true that you're my father?" he asked. I shot up. Pushing myself to my hooves I looked at the pony. He was young, with a satchel and a cutlass. Why the hell would a pony wield a sword when guns were readily available? I didn't question it. He had a short mane, brown and his coat was tannish. I glanced at his flank to see his cutie mark. It was a knife crossed with a sword carving a piece of wood underneath them. No. It couldn't be. He was dead. It was impossible.

"Don't play games with me, boy," I said, "Who are you?"

"My name's Wood Whittle," he said.

I banged my hooves against the bars shouting, "NO! Wood Whittle is dead. Now who are you?"

He backed up. Then I looked into his eyes. They were an emerald green. The same color of Comedy's eyes.

"Woah," he said, "Cool it. If I'm going to get you out of here, you need to be quiet."

"Oh my Celestia, Luna, and the great stars above," I said, "It is you. But how? I watched you die."

"So you are my father then," he said. He produced a key and unlocked the door. I stepped out. I closed the door before the stallion could get up.

"Wait, aren't you supposed to help ponies?" he asked.

"No," I told Whittle, "I stopped helping ponies like him a long time ago."

I grabbed his hoof and we ran. He looked surprised as I ran.

"But if you're really my dad," he said, "Then why are you a cyber pony? They told me that my dad was a normal pony."

I stopped. "What's that supposed to mean? Who told you?"

"Red Eye," he said, "Who else?"

"Son," I said slowly looking into his eyes, "What is my name?"

"Hell if I know," he said with a shrug.

"Okay," I said rolling my head, my anger rising, "I'm going to have some serious words with that cock-sucking mother-bitch."

I began to run, Whittle close behind. I wanted to think that he really did remember me. But I had heard of Red Eye brain washing ponies and raising them to see his ideals. And I hated them all the more for it. Not with my flesh and blood. Not with my son. I began to run faster. I ran out into the hallway. I got to the staircase and ran up. It was nighttime, so most of the guards were sleeping.

When I got to the top, I began to trot to Red Eye's personal office. There were two alicorn guards. I stayed behind the wall and switched out for the plasma cutter. It sparked to life. I took a breath and ran up. They were the kind that held shields. They were holding their's pretty good. I slashed and hit the shields over and over until they shattered. A guard had seen me and now an alarm was blaring.

I burst through the door and saw Red Eye sitting at his desk. He saw me and almost choked on the scotch he was drinking.

"Don't you ever die!?" he said slamming his glass down.

I walked up to him and heaved the desk out of the way. I switched for the bladed hoof and pushed him against the wall. I slowly extended the blade to the tip of his neck.

"You're going to answer some questions," I said, "Then we'll see about letting you go."

I saw Red Eye looked behind me and give a small nod. I turned to see Wood Whittle swing his sword at my head. I blocked it with the blade and dropped Red Eye. I stepped back.

"Wood Whittle?" I asked, "Why?"

"Because he belongs to me now," said Red Eye, "He understands that the Wasteland is dying and he only wishes to help. Starting with eliminating you."

"No," I said, "No, you can brain wash my child, but you cannot make me fight him."

"I don't expect him to fight you," he said, "I expect one of you to die. By the hoof of the other. I asked him to free you and bring you here. So that you may fight."

"What kind of shit is this!?" I shouted at him, still wary of Wood Whittle. Red Eye didn't respond.

Whittle took a fighting stance, the sword in his mouth. I unconsciously extended the blade all the way. I stepped back and looked at it. I closed my eyes and switched it for the normal hoof.

"If I have to fight him, so be it," I said, "But I will not kill him."

Whittle lunged at me, a murderous look in his eyes. I sidestepped easily. He was no match for me. I gave him a shove on the back. He stumbled and got his balance back. He lunged at me again, savagely swinging his sword at my legs. I didn't even move. He had swung form the left. The sword harmlessly bounced off my metal leg. His head shook from the shock a little. I pressed a button on my leg as he tried to regain his senses. I backed up to the window.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" asked Red Eye, "You're supposed to fight him! Not let him corner you!"

"You know what?" I said, "FUCK YOU DUDE!" And with that, I jumped out the window. As I fell, I saw Mr. Guy come up underneath me. I landed hard. Mr. Guy dipped and I began to fly away from the complex. All the way out of Fillydelphia in fact.

It took me about an hour to find Comedy Gold. They were on the outskirts of Fillydelphia, no doubt waiting for me. They saw me coming in and began to whoop and cheer. I jumped off Mr. Guy before we even touched the ground. I ran up and hugged Comedy, then Alph.

"Oh I'm so glad you two are okay!" I said, "How long have you been here?"

"One day," said Alph.

"Oh, okay then," I said, not too happy about that. Just then I heard sparking coming from behind me. I turned around to see Mr. Guy sparking and twitching madly.

"Hey, hey, hey," I said running up to him, "Don't crap out on me, not now! System diagnostics."

"Systems failing," he said as he fell to the ground, "Spark batteries drained. Power level 0%."

"What about back up?" I said, feeling genuinely worried.

"Reserve power spent. Damage to central systems 87%. Chance of repair 0%," he said.

"How?" I said. Then I realized what had happened. He had used his remaining energy to get me to safety. He began to twitch again.

"No, no, no, no, no," I said. I reached into my bags, but I couldn't find any spark batteries. I checked my eye, then remembered it was also dead.

"Urgent!" he said, "One remaining notification!"

"What is it pal?" I said, "Systems not total failure? Still some back up power? Come on, tell me something good."

"Negative," he said.

"Come on, what is it?" I said, tears welling up in my eye.

"Y-you...You," he stammered.

"Come on, I'm listening," I said.

"You need to patch your earpiece," he said. Then he gave one last spark and powered down for good.

"Mr. Guy," I said. I picked him up and shook him. No response.

"Mr. Guy?" I said, my lower lip trembling and tears running freely down my cheek, "Come on buddy, wake up!"

I coughed and sputtered. I began to cry. He had been the only true friend I'd had in years. Sure he was just a machine, but he was more than that to me. He had always helped me up when I fell. He always healed me when I was in pain. And he had sacrificed himself to get me back to Comedy and Alph.

I cried over his mechanical body.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" I shouted into the ground, pounding it with a hoof, "IT'S NOT FAIR!" I kept shaking him and trying to repair him. Eventually Comedy walked over and put a hoof on my shoulder. I looked up and saw that tears were in her eyes as well. She embraced me. I continued to sob into her shoulder.

When I had stopped, I wiped my eyes free of tears. I looked at Mr. Guy. I felt something welling up inside of me. It wasn't pain. It wasn't sorrow. It was anger. Pure, unadulterated anger. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, it was gone, replaced by an empty hole in my heart. Mr. Guy was dead. I couldn't change that.

"We should bury him," I said, "I know it's a machine, but it's only fair to treat him like we would treat a pony."

Comedy nodded. I picked him up and we began to head back to my home.

I was so sad at the time, I hadn't even bothered stopping. I just kept walking until we got back to my home. I walked inside. I passed the workbench. The very bench I had built Mr. Guy on three months ago. Memories came flooding back.

I remembered when I had fallen over, trying to use my new leg. Mr. Guy had helped me to stand back up. I passed the kitchen. I had been shot by a lucky sniper. I managed to kill the sniper, but I was bleeding. And Mr. Guy had healed my wound. I got to the back door. I stepped outside. I opened a metal box and picked up the shovel next to it.

I walked over to the dead tree that was in the back of my house. I began to dig the hard dirt. I dug for hours, until I had a large hole. Comedy and Alph brought me the box, with Mr. Guy inside. They lowered him down. I filled in the hole. It was a measly burial at best, but it didn't matter. I took the shovel and carved his name in the dirt. I sighed, trying to hold back my tears again.

I stepped back and looked at Alph on my left and then Comedy on my right.

"We are gathered here today," said Comedy, "To mourn the loss of our dear Mr. Guy. He was more than a robot. He was a friend. A healer. He would always pick you up when you were down. Always help you find your way when you were lost. Mr. Guy, you will be missed."

I nodded. He was more than a robot. He was a friend. A fitting epitaph.