Chapter 10

Systems Recalibrated

With the lightening that which came within the confines of my own heart at the thought that I could revive and repair my close friend, the world was transformed, as was I. In mere moments after I uttered the single word which seemed to echo around the small store, I was made anew. No longer, did I suffer from the agonizing, stabbing pains of sorrow, of regret; now, my mind was dedicated wholeheartedly to the task of which had been put before me by the suggestion of the one who had saved us all.

The one who the town knew as a warrior, a protector, a friend. The one I knew as a savior, and now, above all else, my best chance at getting Violet back. After I had said yes, he had bade me to come with him from the small back room. Only me, he gestured the others to remain and spoke softly to Selena. I didn't make out most of it, aside a few words that said for her to make my friends feel welcome and at home.

After that, he turned to his left and made his way down the aisles, not pausing in the slightest for any cursory glances. His motions were deliberate, steady, sure, and the glimpses I caught of his expression showed nothing but that same seriousness that had seemed so coldly frightening when he'd talked of the quest moments ago.

Admittedly, there was an allure in that look, which seemed a bit enticing now that I observed my savior while we moved across the store. The way his eyes carried the weight of the task so easily, the faint curvature of his brow as it furrowed in concentration. His lips slightly parted as he ascended a small stairway that led to an upper level room, one that appeared to be a small all-in-one apartment of sorts.

A hoof-crafted bed sat in the center against the wall opposite our entrance, its sheets and pillows neatly made, almost to what I would suppose to be a military regulation. A flag, scorched, heavily damaged, was nailed and pinned up above, and cast down overhead. I only faintly recognized it as an Equestrian Army banner, but it was too badly burned to recognize which unit it once belonged to. beside the bed were two nightstands with small lamps on each that were dimly illuminating the space around them. Off to the left, a door led to what I could only presume was the master bath, since there wasn't one downstairs to my knowledge. A large wardrobe was to the side of this door, with a dufflebag lying against it in a very precise manner.

Mortem moved over to the wardrobe first, pausing before it before standing up on his hind legs and making use of his forelegs, which I happened to take notice of as being rather muscular underneath the patchwork of skin and mottled fur; he opened the doors slowly with a groan echoing in the room from the old wood.

Within the confines of the wardrobe were a few outfits of various states of completeness and styles. Some were old patchwork clothes, reminiscent of the stallion himself before me; but others were of a much classier nature. They were akin to dresses and uniforms of a time I could only identify with the era before the Great War long ago. Some seemed a bit worn or tattered, but for the most part they were in mint condition; they seemed almost as if they were never worn or exposed to the hell that was the current world today. The last thing I saw, which was what Mortem reached for, was a dark brown battle-dress uniform that was made of a long dark overcoat with a lighter brown undershirt and belted pants. Wrapped black combat boots, perfectly laced, were pulled out as well, along with a desert-colored scarf. Body armor, heavily used and riddled with old patches from many bullets, was drawn out as well.

Piece by piece, at a slow, methodical pace, I watched him don this uniform and armor. In a moment, I had a bit of a flashback to a memory of myself as a filly. I saw this very uniform in our history books when they taught us about our prewar military. If memory served, this was one of the uniforms worn by some of our oldest Army units, which meant that the one I observed, just finishing up with the lacing of his boots and putting on his shoulder pads for his body armor, that the stallion before me indeed was one of these prestigious soldiers of a bygone age.

"Ist there an issue, young Miss?" He asked, suddenly, giving me a start as his voice seemed to have become powerful again.

"N...No...Nothing." I couldn't help but blush a little, having been caught thinking as well as observing.

Admittedly, in the uniform, Mortem looked remarkably striking. His expression was still serious, but the faintest hint of a smile played on those lips as he crouched down and unzipped the dufflebag.

"We always keep our weapons close," He said, retrieving from the darkness of the bag several pouches which I could guess were for ammo and an ancient engraved revolver which he held in one hoof. In the other, he wielded a wicked serrated combat knife, which he sheathed at his belt before holstering the revolver as well in one fluid motion. "Thou art staring again,"

"Oh, sorry." I said, my face feeling hot as fire now at having been caught a second time watching him.

"We should head downstairs. Our love will haveth prepared provisions for the journey ahead."

"Yeah. Yeah alright." I said, happy we didn't dwell on the subject further as Mortem walked by me and headed for the stairwell. I caught a glimpse of a strange symbol displayed beneath an insignia of a Corporal on his sleeve as he passed, but I wasn't able to quite make out what it was as he was already at the bottom of the stairs before I could ask.

Following him back down, I was greeted to seeing Harkness standing stock-still. His expression suggested an intense, paralyzing fear beneath the barely calm visage that was his face. beside him was Selena and Ginger, who wore their emotions openly as they all were looking in the same direction. The doorway.

Within the doorway, I actually started to tremble slightly; but in rage, not fear. In that blasted entrance, I saw the very mechanical monstrosity standing once more. A heavy dent had caved half of its helmet in the side, but other than that, it seemed to have suffered no true damage as it seemed to study itself intently. Its visor was completely fizzed out and shattered, so I couldn't tell if it was looking at us or even actually functioning well enough to notice us.

Drawing my pistol, I already had half a mind to start shooting out of pure anger at this machine; but I felt the cold hoof of Mortem on my shoulder beside me. Looking over, he shook his head ever so slightly, indicating the pointlessness of the venture I had been about to undertake.

"There shalt only be more bloodshed if you raise thine weapon against 'It'." He said, his voice calming, assuring.

"But..." I was about to begin an argument, about to go off, when 'It' interrupted.

"Systems analysis indicates heavy damage to cranial armor unit. Extensive circuitry damage to all protocols. Data Corrupt. Data Corrupt. Data Corrupt." On and on this massive, hulking armored figure repeated the same phrase, as if stuck in a loop. For several minutes in fact, it spoke these words, until its helmeted head shook and a light from its fizzling visor flashed on briefly. "Initiating safeguard data system purge. Returning to Default A.I. matrix."

After the last word was spoken, the machine's body went slightly limp, and slumped forward as its visor deactivated one final time. For long minutes, it remained in this state, until I heard the familiar creaks and groans of the rusted metal beginning to grind and whir once more. Suddenly, the machine shot up to full height, its shattered visor sparking dangerously as it seized violently multiple times before going still. It took stock carefully of its environment, looked about, seemed to test its physical capacity in a small circle around itself. In a brief time, it slowly reached up with its talons, and removed very carefully its damaged helm. What laid underneath, admittedly was a truly frightening visage.

Its face was both a mix of machine and organic matter. The flesh was grey and dead, but still seemed to retain some features of life as it twitched and moved in a mechanical way that was unnerving. A very short, closely cropped mane centered around its skull, with two ears, one to each side of its head. A small nose, set like its stony, chiseled face, was visible in its center. Two eyes, one a glowering brown pupil with black irises, and the other a steady red glowing light that was wrapped in wires and cabling, were on either side of this nose. Its mouth chomped up and down slowly, as if tasting its environment and testing its motions for the first time. Teeth that were wicked sharp, teeth made for hunting and killing, sat in its twisted, scarred maw.

Those eyes finally noticed us, and they seemed perplexed for a moment, before the red one flashed a few times in our direction and the thing's expression settled into one that resembled complete seriousness as it looked over Mortem. Both of its armored legs clanked together as it stood stock-straight, feet at a forty-five degree angle, with its left foreleg along its side and the right rising into some sort of salute. The middle talon of its clawed appendage just barely touched the bit of fur which seemed to grace above its two eyes.

It stared, straight ahead, awaiting something. It awaited reply, perhaps, or recognition of its action.

"Liberator Mark One, awaiting instruction, Sir." It stated, addressing my new friend beside me, who I saw surprisingly understand and return the salute with his own right hoof.

"It must think we're its handlers now, since it went to default programming and we were the first it saw." I whispered to nopony save myself, although Mortem nodded ever so slightly as he lowered his salute and saw the machine do the same.

"Liberator," Mortem addressed, in a voice that was different. It was commanding, but reserved, almost like that of an officer that was well versed in his duties. "What is your prime objective as of the moment?"

"To await instruction from my current Commander, Sir. That would be you." The machine responded in a monotone, as its jaw worked furiously to produce the words in a coherent, natural manner while remaining at that posture it had struck. "What are your orders, Sir?"

"One moment," Mortem said, before turning to me slowly and staring into my eyes with the question burning in his own.

I wanted to say no. I wanted to scream Hell No. This was the very machine, the insane, unknown machine that had for all intents and purposes, killed Violet. But the question and thoughts which lurked behind those Crimson pupils which stared into mine spoke of something much higher than the, now, seemingly petty thoughts of revenge which I possessed. They spoke of a purpose, a use, something that could potentially make it all the more easier to bring Violet back.

With my heart heavy, I could only manage a quiet grumble and hope that I was making the right decision. "Alright..."

Author's Note

Hello once again audience, this is author Derpyness Maximus here. I'm just checking in with you all to see how you feel about both chapter ten and the story thus far. Did you enjoy it? Did you dislike it? Are you somewhat in the middle? Either way, would you kindly leave me a comment or even P.M. me about your thoughts if you'd like; and remember to thumbs up or down the story. Also, I'd be interested to hear from those who do dislike the story especially, more so for their reasons of dislike and to see if I can change to become better at what I do.

As always, I would like to personally thank my Proofreader friend Tempest Knight, for helping to catch my errors and for reading the content I produce before it even gets to you, my audience. Give him as much credit as you do me for this important job.

I would also like to personally apologize for not having posted or updated this story in any way for so long. Both my college-level courses and personal life have been a little hectic, and have kept me from producing any true worthwhile content up until most recently. Though it is no excuse, and I ask for none in regards to forgiveness, I simply wished to apologize to my reading audience, because you guys really are awesome and I hate disappointing you by not keeping the stream of my chapters flowing smoothly.

This is author Derpyness Maximus, signing off for now.