The Caretaker

Chapters

Introduction
Servant Of The Old
Damnation
The Coliseum
Berserker
Enter Zebrica
Expedition
The Attack

Introduction

The Caretaker

With an almost-silent click, the room lit up. Crystal walls shone rather brightly, along with a few mirrors and old paintings from times long gone. Furniture here and there, tables, closets, wooden reminders that years had already passed.

Upon a certain table sat a particular object that defied the vintage feeling of the entire chamber. Its flat screen shone with a dim orange, awaiting the day it would be used once more.

The clopping of hooves echoed throughout the crystal chamber as a mysterious pony walked further into it, closing the door behind her with an abrupt slam. Her purple coat made itself visible once she stepped into the light. Her horn lit up, focusing on the wooden table with the strange object.

She sat down, staring at it with bags under her eyes. A dim purple hue enveloped the object as it lightly floated to where her tired eyes could see it. The object in question—a flat pad—glowed stronger once activated. To her eyes, it gave her words. With her own mind she was able to command it to do as she wished, display all the information she wanted to see; it was a slave to her—a slave that would never fight back, never become tired, never fail, and never question.

She sighed, tired. The pad’s gentle glow awaited her input. Closing her eyes, her mind raced through various memories and feelings. Ready, she opened her mouth…

…And spoke.

“This is… What should I call this?” she mused, mouth dry. “Diary?” She shook her head. “No, too personal. Journal? Yes, journal…” Her chest inflated as she drew in air, then exhaled with another weary sigh. “Twilight Sparkle’s journal…” She smiled, still impressed by the technology of such a simple-looking object. “Entry number one...”

“How long has it been… Eleven?” The pony shook her head. “Twelve. Twelve years ever since they happened. The Terrans, I mean… Bipedal, massive in size, usually clad in unbelievably advanced suits of armor that thwarted the strongest weapon we—our entire planet—had at the time. They came with a massive ship, spanning dozens upon dozens of kilometers in length…”

“But, oh… They were stuck, unable to go back due to a technical failure in the ship itself.” She frowned. “War broke out between Equestria and the Gryphon kingdom… The Humans, they stopped it—in exchange for ground to settle down and a stream of supplies. It wasn’t long before a mutiny took place, dividing them into two groups. Eventually things calmed down, but not without the moon being split into two pieces…” She winced.

“Luna, still… She…” Twilight shook her head.

“The settling of the humans brought most of the species on our planet together, including the changelings, to the dismay of many of us. These militarized apes brought order to chaos, whatever that means anymore…”

Her brow furrowed as she bit her lip. “Huge, metallic megacities with towers reaching farther than any mountain!” Her voice cracked as it raised in volume. “Both underground and aboveground sections, splitting the populace into two! Drugs, meritocratic councils, law enforcement…”

Twilight took a deep breath and sighed again. “Massive corporations sprawled out, bent on making credits at the lowest cost, at the expense of the poor… Automated machines sometimes act as police…”

“But…” She looked up. “I guess not all is bad…” Twilight huffed. “Scientific knowledge shot through the sky. Medicinal development… The blind were able to see, the crippled walked with new mechanical limbs, the deaf could hear and the mute could speak!” She smiled, raising one of her hooves up. “We learned that there was so much more than the eye could see! So much beyond our own planet! Billions of stars that— made us realize how small we are…”

“My crystal castle is surrounded by taller buildings now…” She giggled sarcastically, waving her hoof around. “ ‘Princess of Friendship’… The title is nothing but a commodity now. Only other ponies really care. The rest of the species? Not so much.”

“There’s so much that’s changed…”

Servant Of The Old

The Caretaker

It still felt odd.

She stared through one of the many windows that lined her bed chamber. Massive, metallic buildings almost—just almost—blocked the entire view. Even then, they could have perfectly shadowed the entire castle, but almost all agreed that Canterlot had to retain some of its former glory.

Not that it mattered all that much. She and her sister had been replaced by the now-ruling Council, composed of a single representative for each species: pony, gryphon, human. Surprisingly enough, the two sisters had retained their places in the recently-deemed unimportant Canterlot Castle, along with their titles, servants, and small pseudo-military detachment.

The buildings outside—shining with artificial light coming from the thousands of apartments they held—were a rather ominous vista.

A mockery, she often thought, though shrugged off the feeling as she reminded herself that eventually, things do change. The machine of government often falls and then rebuilds itself, as was stated in the humans’ many history records.

Little was required of her. Perhaps destiny had decided that—after millennia of ruling ponykind—she would eventually be rewarded with peace.

That would be a lie, of course.

She had no choice but to stand there and watch as crime sparked up, along with racism, internal conflict… Often did she spend hours looking through the humans’ records to remind herself that harmony and chaos are close friends.

“Every day,” a voice behind her spoke, “at the same hour…”—Celestia turned towards the voice—“you stand there, debating with yourself on whether or not we made the right choice by stepping down from the throne.”

Her younger sister stepped out from the shadows, her bionic eye glowing and the servos on one of her legs making whirring sounds as she walked.

“And we have this same conversation almost every day,” Celestia added, looking back out the window.

“And the same answer almost every time,” Luna said, stepping over next to her sister. “We had to let them go, let them fend for themselves, rule themselves and be themselves,” she continued. “Even if there is a greater amount of crime, drugs… There are no wars save from the silent battles the corporations wage.”

“But is everypo— everybody, happy?” Celestia asked.

“I would say most of them are,” Luna replied. “Just relax.”

A knock on the door prompted them both to turn their heads. “Come in,” Celestia said.

The handle turned, the door slowly pushed open, a large, metallic arm made itself visible. The being in question slowly crouched under the doorframe, revealing itself to the princesses. Clad in silver armor to protect the semi-exposed synthetic muscle beneath, it easily stood at two times their height. A pair of mechanical eyes glowed dimly—a tint of light blue, which lit its skull-like expression. On one of its hands lay a ceramic plate with two hay sandwiches on it, along with two cups of tea, and finally... a syringe filled with green liquid.

“Ah,” Luna scoffed. “Time for…”

“Your medicine,” the machine said, its voice cybernetic and monotone. “As well as tea.” It walked over to a small wooden table set in the middle of the room, leaned down and placed the plate on top of it. Its hands moved steadily towards the tray, wrapping its fingers around the syringe and turning its head to set its dead eyes on Luna. She sighed and walked over to it, sitting down and offering her non-mechanical foreleg. The machine gingerly grabbed the leg with one hand, the other one approaching with the rather-large syringe.

Luna winced, then her eyes shot open. “Aggh…” she groaned in pain as a tear ran down her face, and exhaled loudly as the android pulled the needle out. Her breathing slowed down as the pain receded. “Nine years…” she muttered. “Nine years and it still hurts as much as the first time.” She shook her head. “Blasted scientists and their stupid… Every batch costs more than the last and…”

“Cost should not be a proble—”

“Quiet!” Luna shouted. “You rusty machine… You don’t even feel pain. For the sake of everything, you would be indifferent to life were you not programmed to—”

“Luna!” Celestia called. “It’s not his fault, and you know he is self-aware and does care about—”

“ ‘He’?” Luna inquired. “It is a machine, sister, nothing more.”

Celestia sighed, looking up at the blue eyes. “Don’t… Don’t pay attention to her, Mac.” The machine nodded as Celestia looked back at her sister. “May we have tea, now?”

Luna furrowed her brow and slowly nodded.

“Do you require anything more?” the machine asked, steadily watching as the princesses made their way over to the table and sat down.

Luna turned her head to it, bionic eye glowing. “You may leave, Machine.”

Sharpy Senses’ red eyes darted from one side of the hallway to the other. The stained glass windows shone with intensity, depicting historic events and changes from before the time of the unification. The marble floors were shiny and pristine, as always. Her armor—composed of dark blue metal plates—was more of a relic than anything else, and narrowly covered her similarly blue fur; there were plenty of exposed areas for a gauss shell to pass through. She envied the Colonial Guard, who wore full, proper combat gear, contrary to simplistic armor plates.

Suddenly, her left ear started to itch. She tried to ignore it, to no avail. Irritated, she scanned the vicinity, and saw nobody to the left, nor to the right. Seeing as there no security cameras in the old section of the castle, she smiled.

Time to break etiquette.

Raising her left hoof, she reached under her helmet, careful not to bump her horn, and began to furiously scratch behind her ear, eyes closed in mild pleasure along with a half-smile of satisfaction.

She yelped in surprise as a massive, silver figure opened the door behind her. As fast as she could, she regained that stoic, still stance the ancient Royal Guard was so known for. A moment of silence passed, and the stare of those cold, blue eyes upon her back began to produce a new, mental itch instead.

“You know I do not care if you act like the old guard or not,” Mac said, his metallic voice giving Sharpy the feeling he was not impressed. “Irrelevant.”

Sharpy sighed, assuming a more relaxed stance. “I made an oath when I became one of the princesses’ personal guards… I just wish we had actual armor, like you... the princesses’ caretaker.”

“The armory is prepared to supply you with a powered suit,” the machine continued, “in case of need.”

“I know, I know…” Sharpy muttered. “I’d be fine with this if it could at least stop a magblade.” She huffed and looked back up at the android. “Why do you get to wear full gear?”

“Because I am the gear,” he replied, motioning for the pony to begin walking down the hall beside him, her steps soft and rapid, his steps loud and longer.

“Hey,” Sharpy began as they walked past a stained glass window, its convoluted design depicting a human soldier kneeled down and shaking the hoof of Celestia. “What’s under there?” she asked. “You know, behind the alloy plating and synthetic muscle?”

“Why do you wish to know?”

“Well, I only recently became Sergeant of the Old Guard…” Sharpy looked up at him as they continued walking. “And I’d like to get to know you better. So?”

“An endo-skeleton... “ The android looked away from her. “Hydraulics, processors, cables, kept refrigerated by a white fluid laced with nanites to repair damage.”

Sharpy grimaced and looked away. “Okay, uhm… What’s your, you know, your take on life?”

“Complicated, fragile, develops slowly.” He looked down at her. “Capable of as much good as it is capable of bad. Sometimes illogical, sometimes not. Multiplies rapidly, occupies too much space and resources…

“Some machines I have had the… pleasure, of interacting with, think of organic life as a plague that needs to be exterminated. A pox on the universe.” Sharpy gulped as the android went on. “At one point, I agreed with them.”

“W-what changed?” Sharpy asked, her voice weak.

“There is one thing that organic life has always exceeded in doing…” Mac looked down. “One thing that machines like myself have trouble understanding.”

“And what’s that?”

“I interpret the world through logical and objective thought until the information must be filtered through my programming and directives, as any other machine would.” Mac explained as they rounded a corner, light shining through the windows. “Organics like you, on the other hand… You view the world in a way unique to you, interpret it whichever way your mind has been wired to do so, neural connections forged through years of viewing and processing information. Unless you are self-aware of your actions and thought, anything that comes out of your mouth will be an object of subjective thought processing. We take information in and interpret it in a logical way.

“The steel beam that holds the bridge, to me, is just that. To you, depending on how your mind works and your experiences throughout your lives, the steel beam might be a completely different thing.” Mac stopped walking, looking down at Sharpy. “The capacity of organic beings to see things and imagine, label them as things they are sometimes not, to think beyond the steel beam and give it a meaning that it might not actually have, is the basis of imagination.”

Sharpy listened closely as they continued to walk through the hall, passing a marble bust of Luna. “Imagination,” Mac concluded. “That is the point of it all. The ability to create thoughts and images based, sometimes, on nothing but subjective thought. Many species of organics have harnessed this abilirty to create artistic works of fiction, or to give meaning to things they don’t understand.”

“Even as a self-aware machine, I can see the beauty of it.” A single camera on the ceiling followed them as they walked, signaling that they were leaving the old castle section. “Thanks to the simple beauty of imagination and thought creation, I decided that organic life, no matter how illogical, is something worth protecting to some extent… but I will not hesitate to end a life if the need arises.”

“That’s…” Sharpy muttered. “I didn’t expect you to be so…”

“So what?”

“So… open about it,” she admitted, her eyes noticing a sign hanging from the ceiling, a dull metallic door underneath it. Upon reaching the door, a red beam appeared from the sensor above, which briskly scanned them from top to bottom. A loud hydraulic hiss sounded, and the door opened by itself.

“This is my stop,” Sharpy sighed, then looked up at Mac, her red eyes staring into the light blue of Mac’s.

“Excellent,” the machine stated, turning his head around. “I must pick up a package…” He looked back down at her. “Stay safe.”

“You too.”

His footsteps resonated throughout the main entry chamber of Canterlot Castle, stained glass windows shining radiant light upon the pristine marble floor. He left the golden stairs that lead to the old throne room behind him, which were a relic at that point. Before him, stood the large gates that separated Canterlot Castle from the outside world. The eyes of two pony guards, clad in suits of metal plates and synthetic muscle, followed him as he made his way over to the massive, automated doors. A laser beam scanned him, and with a metallic groan, the doors began to part. Light coming from the outside seeped into the chamber as he walked into the open, his eyes quickly adjusting to the brightness.

In the distance, behind the massive wall that separated old Canterlot from the new district, massive, metallic skyscrapers provided shadow to the few buildings near the castle which remained more or less unchanged. Vehicles darted between the towers at sonic speeds. Posh ponies, changelings and gryphons walked through the streets of Old Canterlot, some of them being followed by small, hovering cameras. Mac continued to walk, his destination already set.

“Hot dogs for sale!” yelled a gryphon from behind a stand. Some changelings formed a small line in front of it, while the nearby ponies looked on in disgust and covered their snouts. “The ancient human recipe, right here in Old Canterlot!”

A pony carelessly bumped into the android, the little hovering watchbot behind her quickly snapping a picture of him. His eyes flashed, and the little robot sparked and fell to the ground, a puff of smoke rising from its shell. Shortly after, Mac continued walking, leaving the rather confused pony behind him to gawk.

Moments later, he noticed a small building to the right that had opened recently, several changelings sitting at tables just outside of it. A young female changeling exclaimed, “Come to Hatcha’s Love Cafeteria! The best synthetic love in all of Canterlot, both new and old!”

Mac noticed a group of changelings just outside the cafeteria, rummaging through a dumpster. “Old Canterlot,” one of them said, “a city full of the best trash. Too bad it’s not all in a dumpster.” The others chuckled and continued going through the trash of the rich, one of them yelping as it clumsily fell into the bin.

In the distance, a bright building stood out, the acronym, “T.R.E.A.T,” followed by the word, “Clinic,” displayed in bright neon lights. A small, red hovering vehicle floated past Mac as the ponies in it laughed on.

The sound of splashing water could be heard from a fountain to his right. In front of it stood a dirty-looking mare with her forehooves raised above her head.“Repent!” she yelled. “The end is nigh! Restore your faith in the princesses, and your life might be spared in the coming rapture!”

Mac looked up at the clinic’s neon sign, the metallic nature of the building itself colliding with that of the rather old-looking construction of the pre-unification district. With a low hiss, the glass doors to the clinic automatically opened for him to pass through, entering a warm and calm atmosphere.

“Welcome, Unknown Citizen,” a pleasant yet automated feminine voice said as he entered, “to ‘Terran Robotics Exploration, Augmentation and Treatment’.”

He closely examined the room he was in. Behind a glass wall, a couple ponies and gryphons were silently reading electronic magazines as they sat on some comfortable-looking couches. Coming out of a door was a sickly mare—her left foreleg mechanical—accompanied by a gryphon nurse.

Mac approached the information booth. Behind transparent, bulletproof glass was a gryphon hen working on a terminal. She adjusted her glasses and looked up at the towering android. Mildly spooked at first, she sighed and regained her composure. “Hello there,” she said, smiling. “What can I assist you with, sir?”

“Where is Miss Redheart?” Mac asked. “She is the one that usually helps me.”

“She, uhm,”—the gryphon coughed—“she suffered an accident. Work-related injury, nothing major.” She scratched her head before looking back up. “Anyways, how can I help you?”

“I am here to retrieve a batch of Neurozol, under the name of ‘Mac’.”

“Ah!” The secretary nodded. “Redheart did tell me about a big machi—I-I mean, individual, who would come pick that up. Dangerous stuff, Neurozol…” She typed into the terminal in front of her. “I’ll need to, uhm, verify your ID…”

Mac waved a hand, prompting the terminal to light up. The gryphon look down at it, somewhat surprised, then back up at Mac, bearing an awkward smile. “O-okay, that’s all I need from you. Let me fetch the Neurozol kit…”

The android watched as the hen got up from her seat, making her way over to a dainty safe at the back of the office. Her index claw pressed a few buttons, then the safe opened with a small hiss before she reached in and retrieved a metallic box. She quickly returned to her post and slid the package through a little opening on the base of the window that separated them.

“Thank you,” Mac said, taking the box. “Give my regards to Miss Redheart.”

“Will do, sir,” she replied, watching as the android turned and made his way out of the clinic, clinic, every security camera in the building keeping its focus on him until he disappeared from view.

“So,” Corporal Maneuver said, smirking. “I saw you talking to that android, Sarge.” He picked up a glass of water with his magic, looking at Sharpy, who was sitting on the other side of the table next to Private Brick.

“And?” Sharpy looked over to the security hub next to her, an array of screens monitoring what every security camera in the sector recorded.

“What’s it like?” Brick asked, his amber eyes widening in curiosity. “Talking face-to-face with a human-made machine, designed for war, that sits in the castle and brings tea to the princesses? I mean, for all we know, that thing could just be pretending to like us, and we still leave it to take care of them? Unsupervised, too?”

Maneuver slammed his hoof on the table and stood up. “It should be one of us in charge of them just like it was in the old guard!”

“Damn right,” Brick agreed. “Thing could end up killing them both, and then we’d have to take it down. It’d probably send like a dozen of us to Tartarus before we could stop it!”

Sharpy sighed, rubbing her temples. She then looked at the ceiling. “Maneuver? Brick?”

“Yeah, Sarge?” they both responded.

“Shut the fuck up,” she said as she looked back down. “And sit down, Corporal.” She leaned over the table and places both forelegs over it. “He’s been taking care of them for years now. After the human civil war, the colonial guard wanted to shut him down, but he appealed to the princesses so they’d let him serve as their caretaker. The machine worked on one of the human ships for two years before the princesses accepted his request. Besides, I had a nice talk with him, and I’m pretty sure he won’t do anything. Now, calm down you two.”

Maneuver muttered something to himself as he sat down, looking at an equally flustered Brick.

Sharpy smirked and chuckled, folding her forelegs. “Anyone up for a game of cards?”

However, after another glance, her smirk quickly disappeared as one of the machines caught her eye. She stood up and walked over to the hub, fastening her helmet.

Maneuver and Brick also stood up. “Something wrong, Sarge?”

“This camera,” she muttered. “It’s…”

The screen in question shut off completely.

“This is bad…” Brick muttered.

Another camera went dark, followed by another. One by one, they all began to darken in quick succession.

“Sarge!” Maneuver called. “We gotta light the alarm!”

Sharpy began typing into the terminal. “I-I can’t! Nothing’s responding!” She slammed her hoof on the keyboard.

They all looked to the side as the doors to the room slid open.

“Watch it, tin can!” a gryphon exclaimed as Mac bumped into him. Without a single care, he continued walking, medical kit in hand. He noticed the lack of loud preaching as he passed by the water fountain. He trekked on, paying no mind.

“This is unacceptable!” a stallion barked nearby. “You are not allowed to sell flesh products in Old Canterlot! This is, as it has always been, a pony district!”

“It’s a free society, asshole!” the gryphon yelled from behind the hot dog stand “Get with the times, and eat shit!” He grabbed a yellow bottle and squirted mustard on the stallion’s face.

The stallion gasped, flicking off some of the mustard off of his face. “You imbecile!”

Mac looked away as the two lunged at each other, his eyes set on the golden gates of the castle, steadily approaching them. The little device on top of the doors activated, a red laser scanning his body from top to bottom. With a loud groan, the gates splitted apart, allowing him to pass into the castle’s entry chamber. His footsteps resonated through, windows shining light onto him as two pony guards had their eyes glued on his back, yet they remained silent. He walked past the old golden throne and onto a set of stairs, walking up and into a long marble corridor.

The android looked up, one of the neon signs of the corridor sparking as he passed underneath it. Rounding a corner, he continued walking until he met another sign next to a security station. The metallic door slid open with a hydraulic hiss, then sparked as its circuits fried themselves.

Carefully, he walked into the room, the flashlight mounted to his shoulder lighting up the darkness. Mac scanned the dark room, noticing that the security hub was offline. An almost-silent splash occurred as he stepped further in. Looking down, he spotted a small puddle of blood beneath his feet, right next to the bodies of two guards. He quickly detected a small heat signature behind a flipped table.

“Reveal yourself,” he called out, watching as a small figure warily rose from behind the table. Behind the blood covering her face and the small dent in her helmet, Mac quickly identified her as the guard he'd conversed with earlier.

“A-are they gone?” Sharpy asked, trembling. She made her way over to Mac, careful not to step in the blood.

“Apparently,” he responded. “What happened here? Who did this?”

“Security c-cameras turned off…” Sharpy muttered. “Something opened the door and.. s-shot us, but my... my helmet deflected it… Can’t say the same for these two…”

Mac leaned down, looking at the two bodies. “Projectile traversed right between the eyes…” he mentioned as he flipped one of them over. “Where did the attacker go?”

Sharpy broke her stare away from the bodies and onto Mac. “I… I heard something go to the left of the corridor a-after…”

Mac’s hands leaned over the bodies, gently moving over to their faces and examining the bloody bulletholes on their foreheads. “Attempt to get the hub working,” he stated coldly. “I will track down whoever did this.”

“Hurry, then…” Sharpy muttered, going towards the hub.

The android turned around, looking over his shoulder at the mare before walking out of the room, taking to the left side. His pace was slow and careful. He looked to the side, noticing a broken stone bust of Luna, its pieces lying on the floor. The sound of cracking glass sounded off as he rounded a corner, one of the stained glass windows no more.

A few meters ahead, the body of a mare servant lay dead, a plate of silverware on the floor next to her, along with that of a guard. Mac walked past them both, his direction nearing the door to Celestia’s’ bedchambers. As he walked by the doors to the room, he noticed the sound of electricity coming from within. With care, he gently pushed the door open, accidentally kicking an inkpot into the room. He watched as it rolled over to the source of the sound: Princess Luna lay on the floor, her mechanical limbs and implants sparking as her entire body trembled. The room was a mess; furniture had been broken, and random items spread all around.

Mac carefully approached the princess, setting down the Neurozol kit next to her. He quickly examined her, then waved his hand. The tiny lights on her implants went dark, then lit up again, Luna’s breathing normal and stable once again.

Slowly, her eyes opened, scanning around before locking themselves on Mac. “Si—Sister!” she exclaimed, clumsily standing back up. “You fool! Where wast thou in our time of need!?”

“I was retrieving your medication.”

“I—” She frowned, moving over to the bed and sitting down, rubbing her temples with her forehooves. “They took Celestia, machine!” Luna exclaimed. The two remained in silence for a few seconds, looking around the trashed room.

“We cannot…” she uttered. “We have to find her.”

“Should I let the colonial guard know?” Mac asked.

“No!” she cried out. “Do you have no understanding for the state of our people? If they think that they have lost what little they had left after everything that has happened, they will surely crumble!”

Luna sighed, fixing her eyes on the window. "The outcry would be massive, and the population is already split as it is. We cannot afford civil unrest."

Standing up, she made her way over to the window, gazing out at the horizon. "I will manage the sun and the moon,"—she turned to the android—"and I will help you as much as I can, but... Well, I fear we must locate her before this goes public." She stared up at Mac's bright eyes.

"Find her, machine. Find her, no matter the cost.”

Damnation

The Caretaker

“Find her, machine. Find her, no matter the cost.”

These were Luna’s last words before she turned away from him and sat down, her stare going straight out the room’s window and into the sunset, which happened to be mostly obscured by the many towers outside. Mac’s eyes glowed as he took in what the princess had just said.

The room had been turned into a mess. Random items were strewn about, making it difficult for one to walk by without stepping on either a book or a piece of furniture. The air still contained some strange fumes—an unnatural odor of ozone. Mac looked down to his feet, where a discarded object lay spent and smoking. His servos whirred as he leaned down, wrapping his metallic hands around it and lifting it up. The letters “E.M.P.” were etched into it.

He broke his eyes away from the used grenade and looked over to Luna, who still sat there brooding to herself, her mechanical implants glowing. Standing up, Mac placed the shell near his waist, engaging a few magnetic locks to keep it in place. He slowly turned to the door, about to exit the room, but looked to his princess once more.

“I will find her. I promise,” he stated as he walked out, though the words must have sounded empty to Luna’s ears.

He closed the doors behind him, one of the hinges falling onto the marble floor with a dull clang. To his left lay the hallway he had just come from, which contained a few random sculptures and busts that had been damaged. On the right section of the hallway, however, a rather large scorch stain had been burned into the floor.

Mac stepped past the mark and continued along the hall. Every so often, he would come across scorch marks, smashed furniture, and broken windows, leading him ever further on the trail of his objective. Surprisingly enough, no bodies were found despite the obvious signs of struggle.

The shards of glass cracking under his feet echoed through the corridor as he continued, the light of the sunset fading away as he stepped out into a grassy garden. Leaves lay spread about, forming a circle in the middle of the garden. Mac stepped up and looked at the sky just as the sun started to go down, unsure as to where he should go.

A faint glimmer drew his gaze down to the grass before him; Celestia’s crown lay, glowing gently, upon a pile of leaves.

“Damnit,” Sharpy muttered, shivering and watching as a group of the old guard’s field medics stuffed the bodies of her two companions into separate bags. A few other ponies stood around, wiping the blood that had splattered on the floor of the security station. She wobbled over to one of the screens, grabbing a nearby rag, and wiped the keyboard with it.

“So what happened here?” a rather short stallion asked.

“No clue, but we received word from Princess Luna,” a mare replied. “Under the code of the guard, this is to be kept secret. Hell, I’m not even supposed to be talking to you about this."

“Eh,” the stallion muttered. “What gives…”

The door slid open, catching the attention of all those inside the hub. In the silhouette of the doorway, a tall figure with two glowing eyes stood.

“All but Sharpy,” Mac commanded, “vacate the room.”

The ponies inside looked up at him, then at each other. They quickly scuttled, grabbing the two body bags and walking past the android, closing the door behind them. He then approached Sharpy.

“S-so,” she began, “did you find anything? How are the Princesses?” She lifted an eyebrow. “We got word from Luna that—”

“Celestia is gone,” Mac said bluntly.

Sharpy stared blankly at him for a couple seconds. “W-what?” she asked in disbelief, watching as the machine tossed an object on a nearby table. She stepped up to it, the smell of ozone creeping up her nostrils.

“Electro-magnetic pulse grenade,” he stated. “It was used to disable Luna as they took Celestia.”

The unicorn mare huffed, getting the noxious gas out of her system. “O-oh no…” She walked up to the security hub. “We surely have footage, I-I mean..” She swiped a bunch of documents off of the keyboard and began frantically tapping her hooves into it. “The world is gonna fall apart! Without her to raise the sun! Every pony citizen is gonna freak out and…” She looked up at Mac, breathing rapidly.

“Luna will take care of the sun,” Mac said. “And we must ensure this information never leaves the castle.”

“A-are you broken!?” Sharpy exclaimed. “We can’t just let this happen!”

“We won’t,” the machine stated as Sharpy stared up at him, her body shivering with fear. “I will find her, and you will help me.” He took another item from his waist, and placed it on the table, along with the grenade. “This… This is all I could find.”

Sharpy sighed, walking over to it. “Celestia’s crown? Where did…” Her eyes narrowed, looking intently at it, noticing a dim glow. She picked it up with her magic, then looked up at Mac. “It’s… an incantation. Like writing a message on a scroll, but… you get the idea.”

“What does it contain?” Mac asked.

“I have no idea…” Her horn glowed with magic, and so did the crown. After a few seconds, the piece of regalia lit up, sparkly, golden dust rising out of it and into the air, forming words as it danced in place.

“Club Damnation… Arthur…”

They both watched as the dust faded away. Sharpy reeled back in surprise.

Mac set his eyes on her. “Club Damnation?”

“It’s a nightclub in lower Canterlot,” Sharpy said, placing the crown back on the table. “Multi-species bar, lots of alcohol and drugs…” Sharpy walked over to the hub. “So… she either left us a message to go on with, or we just stumbled on a personal reminder for a date…”

She sat down on a nearby chair, taking off her helmet and rubbing her temples with both hooves. “What now?”

Mac looked over his shoulder. “I will follow the trail,” he stated, then looked back at Sharpy. “You will monitor me. We must stay in contact.”

“You’re going alone?” she asked.

“You must stay here and make sure the world does not know about this.” Mac turned to the door and began to walk.

“Alright, I’ll upload the coordinates for the bar, and… Mac?” Sharpy asked, watching the door slide open, yet Mac stood still, looking over his shoulder.

“Good luck.”

The sun had faded, giving way to dusk. Now, only the dim light from the moon and the buildings themselves were there to cooperatively illuminate Old Canterlot. Towers rose to the sky with lights of their own, shining down upon the ground level. Mac’s steps were dull and lonely, as the streets were nearly empty.

As he walked down one of the roads of the old city, he noticed several eyes staring at him from within the many antique houses. A hover car filled with young ponies, changelings and gryphons drifted past him as they laughed and chugged down cans of alcoholic beverages before nonchalantly tossing them onto the ground.

He walked past the same water fountain from earlier, just as a little sentry bot flew by his side and continued on towards the city beyond. The changeling “Love” cafeteria was still open, Mac noticed. Strangely enough, he could see a few ponies sitting among the changelings, talking.

As he neared the augmentation clinic, whose neon signs were dark and the doors closed, Mac took a sharp left towards a small, glass elevator. The door opened to reveal a group of gryphons inside, who looked up at him curiously for a moment, but promptly exited to make way. As he entered, the elevator lowered itself a bit as it took in his weight. Nevertheless, the glass doors closed themselves and, with a low hum, the elevator began to descend.

The android looked on as the elevator went down the shaft, eventually revealing the vista of Lower Canterlot through the glass.

He was greeted by the sight of a vast, underground complex. Metallic towers rose from the very bottom, up into the rocky ceiling and even further beyond into the surface. The streets themselves were held up like bridges, maintaining a rather large gap between the bottom from which the structures rose. Crowds of beings walked to and fro upon the metallic streets. Flying vehicles soared through the air, darting between the towers, which illuminated the entire cave system with a dim, orange light.

Slowly, the elevator touched bottom with a resounding clunk, the doors sliding open, allowing both Mac to get out as a crowd of changelings ushered in. He looked up at the towering structures as a little mare bumped into him, grumbling to herself as she adjusted her path.

Mac mentally reviewed the coordinates for the so-called “Club Damnation” and began walking again, his metallic feet pressing against the floor. With his destination just a few seconds ahead, he took some time to observe the scenery. Bars lined the streets, and where filled to the brim with people of all species. The sound of loud music caught his attention as he neared a bar with a bright, holographic sign reading “Damnation!”.

A sizeable line of people stood outside the club, which in itself was formed by one of the largest buildings around. Mac took his place at the end of the line, which began to move at a fast pace. As expected, the females were let in more often than the males. Eventually, Mac found himself staring into the eyes of a human of the same height. The man looked up and down at him, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow in mild curiosity

“What’s a tin can like you doing here?” he asked, his voice gruff and deep.

“I wish to enter,” Mac stated.

“And?” the man inquired. “Are you some sort of cop machine? Hell, you won't dance, drink or really do much of anything.”

Mac adjusted his stance. “And if I pay to enter?”

The bouncer let his arms hang down and lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe…” He reached into his pocket and produced a small machine with a tiny screen on it. “Got any credit chips on you?”

Mac waved his hand over the device as his eyes glowed stronger for just a second. The man looked down at the screen and raised both eyebrows in surprise.

“Fine,” he said, stepping to the side. “Just no funny business, alright?”

Mac nodded, entering the building and allowing the next in line to walk up. Shortly, he found himself in a long hallway tapered in red velvet, lights shining from every direction. Most importantly, though, were the holographic pole dancers that lined the velvety hall, one for each species: pony, human, gryphon, and more.

Although he was yet to enter the actual club, the music happened to be already quite loud, even for Mac. He neared a set of metallic doors and pushed them open, entering a massive room. Music blasted from every corner, lasers and blue lights strobed and illuminated the dance floor, and the pungent smell of sweat and alcohol pervaded the air.

Mac began to make his way through the crowd, pushing them aside as he walked towards the center. Real pole dancers were set in several platforms around the club. People gathered around them, throwing credit chips as they laughed and drank.

Reaching the center, where a circular bar was placed, Mac sat down in one of the chairs, letting one arm rest on the bar itself. Soon, the large figure of a man approached him, holding a shot glass with his left arm, a cybernetic prosthesis, and cleaning it with his right one. He looked at the android with two glowing, mechanical eyes.

“Name’s Bryan,” he said, then looked at the android up and down again, his eyes locking themselves on Mac’s. “What can I get you? Oil? Batteries? Or do I show you to the nearest power outlet?"

“I am…” Mac looked over to his side, “admiring the scenery.”

Bryan shrugged. “What are you doing here, anyways?” He set the glass behind the bar and placed both hands on top. “Lost? Rampant? Trying to understand organic life?”

“No, no, and already have,” Mac stated. “I am looking for someone.”

The bartender raised an eyebrow. “And who might that be?”

“Arthur.”

Bryan rubbed his face with one arm. “Really?” Mac nodded as the bartender continued. “You must be the fourth person who’s looking for him. Asshole’s been hogging the VIP backroom ever since he got here. Spending lots of credits, too.”

“Where is this room?” Mac inquired. “I must see him.”

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small PDA. “You.. Wouldn’t happen to be Adrian, right?”

Mac stalled for a second. “Yes.”

Bryan burst out in laughter. “That’s the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve heard all day!” he exclaimed. “Anyways, buddy, you’re not on his list, and you’re not getting in.”

Mac stood up. “I need to. It is important.”

The man leaned over the bar. “I know how much you payed the bouncer to let you in…” He winked. “Do the same for me, and I’ll let you in, easy peezy.”

Without question, Mac waved his hand by the bartender's PDA, causing it to light up. Bryan then looked down and chuckled. “Smooth,” he said before looking over Mac’s shoulder. “Steely! Come over here for a sec!"

Mac looked behind him to see a female minotaur stand up from a booth and walk over to them, a ring on her nose, half of her face covered with hair hanging down from her head. “Mmh, yes baby?” she asked, looking at Bryan, then at Mac, scanning him up and down. “Special customer?” She folded her arms, smiling.

“You could say so,” Bryan said.

“Mhm…” Steely placed a finger on her lips. “Never fucked a robot before…”

Bryan chuckled and facepalmed. “No, he wants in on the VIP room, so…” He leaned closer to her. “Maybe you can lose your keycard for a bit, aight?”

Steely folded her arms. “Maybe a drink, first?” They both looked at Mac.

“I already gave you a sizeable sum.” Mac turned to Bryan.

“Fair enough,” he said, crouching behind the bar and quickly producing a bottle of liquor, which he then set on the bar.

Steely’s eyes widened. “A whole bottle, hmm?” She took it with one hand, reached into her cleavage with the other, and set a small keycard on the bar before turning away and looking over her shoulder at Mac. “Oops! Lost my keys!” she chuckled. “And if you want a good time, mister android… You know where to find me.” She blew him a kiss and continued on.

Mac looked over at Bryan, who shrugged. “This never happened, by the way.” He then pointed towards the back of the club. Mac nodded and began walking away, paying no further attention to the bartender.

Pushing through the crowd of people once again, Mac quickly located the door to the backroom, but soon found himself face-to-face with two gryphon bouncers, who regarded him curiously. He showed them the keycard and they both stepped to the side whilst the door slid open. The android then walked through, finding himself in a dull, metallic hallway.

He looked over his shoulder as the door slammed shut, but continued walking. He waved the keycard over a panel on the side of the next door, and it slid open.

Mac walked into the room, and everything went silent. The personal bartender looked over to him, along with a group of three changelings. A few dancers covered themselves up and scuttled away as the music stopped.

Mac stepped further inside, one of the changelings lashing at him. He crossed his arms, catching it and pushing it back. A quick beeping sound caught his attention. He looked down at his arm to see a small device stuck to it, just in time for it to activate and lock him in position for a few seconds.

Two panels, one on the floor and another on the ceiling, opened up. They quickly lit up, producing a kinetic energy field around Mac as the device on his arms sparked and died. He banged on the shield with his hands, managing to push them through a little bit before the shield strengthened even more.

“They told us you might make your way to us,” the changeling in the middle said, walking past the one that had assaulted the android, kicking it a bit to prompt it to get up. “Stand up, Lars.” The only difference between them was the color of their eyes, and an assortment of jewelry such as dog tags, ear piercings and more.

“A M.A.C. unit…” the changeling mused. “You’re the only one left, right? Glad that little stunner they gave us held up for more than a millisecond.”

“Who are you?” Mac exclaimed, banging on the shield once more. “Where is Arthur?”

The middle changeling, one with purple eyes, stepped up. “Looking right at him, tin can,” he scoffed. “Human name, I know.”

“Where is Celestia?” Mac let his hands hang down normally. “Why did you take her?”

“No fucking clue where she’s at,” Arthur said, walking over to the shield, looking up at Mac with a vicious grin. “It was surprisingly easy, though…”

Mac’s eyes began to glow strongly. “Why?”

“They paid us a good chunk of credits,” Arthur began, pacing around Mac. “We’re mercenaries, if you hadn’t already guessed.” He looked over to the changeling on the left. “Shut him down, stuff him in a box and send him to the fighting pit… Might as well get some credits outta him.”

“Mac!” Sharpy’s voice sounded inside Mac’s head. “Oh no, oh nonono…”

“Will do, boss,” the changeling with green eyes said, stepping over to a panel on the wall next to Mac and punching in an array of buttons.

The shield began to glow even stronger, sending electrical currents through Mac’s body. He twitched, rattled for a good couple of minutes. The bartender looked on with wide eyes, and the dancers ran out the door.

His vision began to distort, a situation he was all too familiar with. As the world around him faded to dark, his HUD showed one simple line through the distortion.

::> Critical power anomaly detected...

::> Threat level: Critical…

::> Protocol: adapt, survive. Commence adaptation...

::> Warning: overload. Commence emergency shutdown…

::> SShutting… ddown...

Mac collapsed in an unceremonious heap as steam and smoke billowed from his limp form. Arthur chuckled to himself.

The Coliseum

The Caretaker

::> ... Adaptation Protocol: Complete.

::> Rebooting....

Mac’s eyes began to glow blue once more, illuminating the darkness he suddenly found himself in. He craned his neck around, the light of his eyes revealing nothing more than the fact that he was in a tight, closed casket of sorts. He systematically moved his arms, then his legs, getting a feel for the enclosure. Once his auditory sensors began to work once again, he picked up some muffled voices coming from outside.

“Who was that guy?”

“No clue... So what’s your name, eh?” a female voice asked.

“Fuck off, pony,” a gruff male responded.

Mac pressed his hands against the walls, the servos on his arms whirring up.

“Hey,” another voice said, “there’s something in that box…”

He could hear the steps of hooves walking over to him, just as he shoved the top of the box open, sending it slamming into the ceiling. He quickly jumped and the beings around him backed up in fear. He sprinted towards the nearest one and slammed his body against them, sending them careening into the nearest wall. Mac twisted around and set his eyes on the next target, stepping up and grabbing its neck, lifting it up effortlessly.

“Woah!” a voice next to him called out. He looked down to see a scrawny mare gazing up at him. “We’re friends here, alright!?” she yelled. “Let him down!”

Mac looked towards the being he was holding up, his eyes meeting the green orbs of a male gryphon with grey feathers. Mac held him up by the neck for another second, and dropped him as his eyes began to bulge. He turned to see a changeling picking itself up after having been slammed into the wall, leaving the surface with a few visible cracks.

The android looked around, finding himself in a dull, concrete cell with an energy field on the far wall, and a bunch of supply boxes from where he came from. He set his eyes on the energy field.

“Where am I?” he demanded. “Where is Arthur!?” Mac bellowed, his voice turning raspy and metallic.

“You—” the gryphon coughed as he stood up, massaging his sore neck, “you’re in the fighting pit… The end of the line.”

“And Arthur?”

“I don’t know…” the changeling said, one with orange eyes and several earrings on his left ear. “First time I’ve ever heard the name, actually.” He groaned. “Thanks for the smashin’, by the way…”

Mac took a step towards the field. “What is this place?”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” the mare said, her mane brown and frazzled, her eyes blue. “I’ll start by saying my name.” She looked up at Mac. “I’m Carry Merry”

The changeling coughed, “Minerva,” he said as he spat out a tooth.

They all looked at the gryphon, who was still rubbing his neck. “Adrian…”

Mac took his stare away from the gate and stared down at Carry. “Mac.”

The four exchanged looks, breaking them when Minerva made his way over to the supply boxes. “Hey Mac, check this out.” The android walked over to him as Adrian and Carry looked on in mild curiosity. “Help me with this thing…” They both lifted the top of one of the many boxes, revealing metallic suits of armor.

“They expect us to fight, don’t they?” Carry sighed. “I’m just an old mare…”

Mac walked away from the armor boxes, watching as the others reluctantly made their way and began trying suits of armor. “So why are you here, Mac?” Minerva asked as he tried to stuff himself into a suit with spiked shoulderpads, clumsily bumping into some boxes as he did so.

“I…” Mac looked away. “I am looking for someone, and I was caught off-guard.”

“Uh-huh,” Minerva continued, fastening some straps on his armor. “What about you, Carry?”

The skinny mare, now clad in a suit of leather armor, threw away a helmet and looked at the changeling. “I don’t remember much, other than the fact that I woke up here after I passed out drunk and high in an alley.”

Minerva looked at her, confused.

“What?” she asked. “Old ladies can have fun, too.”

Mac and the other two looked at Adrian, who had just finished strapping on a shiny, metallic breastplate. “Yeah?” He stuffed his head into a steel helmet. “What is it?”

Mac looked on as Minerva chuckled. “How did you end up in here?”

“That’s none of your business,” he growled. “Fuck off.”

“Heh…” Minerva huffed. “Like it or not, Adrian, we’re stuck together now.”

“Whatever,” the gruff gryphon said, sitting atop one of the supply boxes. “And why the hell did you end up here?”

“Don’t recall much,” Minerva said. “I was at a club in Trottingham.” He finished strapping a shoulderpad. “Pretty sure they slipped a roofie in my drink... Us changelings don’t cope well with drugs.”

They all looked past the force field as a door slid open, followed by the steps of an old stallion in a fancy suit. The eyes of everyone in the cell tracked him as he made his way to the field, and stopped, looking straight into them.

“You again…” Carry muttered.

“I see the last member of your batch has waken up,” the stallion said. “Or rather, powered up.”

Mac stomped up to him, yet the stallion remained unfazed. “Who are you?” Mac asked. “Why are we here?”

“Like I told your, ahem, ‘friends’ a bit ago…” He looked past him and over to the others. “This is the Coliseum, or as some call it, the fighting pit.” His eyes met with Mac’s. “As to why you’re here, well, I can only say that all of you made the mistake of crossing the wrong people.

“I am Bit Counter,” the stallion declared. “And I’m here to give you a few pointers to uhm, help you survive what’s coming.” He lightly tapped on the shield with his hoof. “Make a show, provide the spectators entertainment. Trust me, they can help you far more than I can, believe it or not.”

“A-are we gonna get out of here?” Minerva asked as he stepped forth. “Why would we fight if we’re gonna die anyways?”

“Claw your way to the top, is all I can say.” Bit looked over his shoulder. “Some have made it out, some haven’t. Regardless, salvation is possible… So long as you make a good show.” He turned back towards the door and began to walk. “Staying here will only get you killed…” Bit chuckled. “The only option is to fight.”

The door closed behind him, and the occupants of the cell looked at each other worriedly. “I really, really don’t like this,” Minerva said nervously. Carry bumped him on the shoulder.

“Team forty-five,” an automated voice spoke up. “Move to the arena.”

The energy field shut down, and a pair of gates groaned as they opened up, revealing a literal light at the end of the tunnel. The cheering of a loud crowd could be heard. Mac clenched his fists.

“Hell no!” Adrian exclaimed. “I ain’t going out there!”

Dust fell from the ceiling and the ground quaked lightly. They all looked around as the walls began to close in.

“We don’t have a choice!” Carry yelled, walking over to the gryphon, biting a leather strap on his armor and pulling on it.

“Fine!” Adrian pushed her off. Then, they all looked up at Mac, who glanced over his shoulder.

“We fight,” he said. “Or we die.” Mac took a step towards the tunnel. “Come.”

The rest of them shared worried glances, then reluctantly followed the android. Their hearts began to beat faster as adrenaline surged through their bodies. Mac kept a steady pace, not knowing entirely what was waiting for him at the end, yet set on fulfilling his given task.

The cheering got louder, and finally, they stepped into the light. Carry and the others shielded their eyes. Mac looked up at the far, metallic dome that covered the Coliseum, below it rows and rows of spectators of all species cheering as he and his little group came into view. His metallic feet met the sand. He glanced at the arena itself; the rim was lined with dusty bones, and a few patches were brown with dry blood.

On the opposite end, another gate opened. The crowd cheered even louder as a second group came into view. Amongst two male ponies and a female minotaur stood a human, much taller than the rest of them, and just about as tall as Mac. He locked eyes with the android and brought his hands together, cracking his knuckles.

“Welcome, spectators,” a female voice boomed across the Coliseum, “to the first match of this season’s proving grounds!”

The crowd cheered loudly, watching as the two teams sized each other up.

“On one end, we have our first team, and a special one at that! Team forty-five, lead by a pretty unusual being: an android!” Mac looked around at the crowd. “And on the other side, we’ve got team sixty, lead by none other than Sergeant Andros, defector of the USC Colonial Guard, convicted for killing a dozen fellow soldiers in a murderous rampage!”

“I expect bloodshed today, and I hope you do too, spectators!”

The crowd began to count down. Andros clenched his fist and raised his middle finger at Mac’s group. The android looked over his shoulder at his team, giving a single nod of acknowledgement.

“Three!”

Mac stepped forth.

“Two!”

Minerva whispered to himself, shaking.

“One!”

Adrian clawed at the sand.

“Go!”

In an instant, Andros began to sprint across the arena, followed by the rest of his team.

:::> Initiating Combat Mode....

Mac’s servos whirred to life, his synthetic muscles tensed and his eyes began to glow even stronger. Gas shot off of his joints and his metallic jaw opened to reveal a set of sharp teeth.

Andros charged at him. Mac crossed his arms, effectively catching the man and pushing him off. The convict slid on the sand, then regained his stance. Mac sped towards him, throwing a punch directly towards his face. Andros dodged, then provided a hook that collided against the android’s chest, resulting in a loud metallic clang. Mac, unmoved by the attack, grabbed hold of the man’s arm, and effortlessly launched him back several meters.

“Fear me!” Mac exclaimed, making the crowd cheer loudly as he approached the human.

“Fuck you, tin man!” Andros yelled back, turning towards the crowd. He raised both of his arms and released a loud roar. The crowd cheered in response, and soon an object was thrown, passing through the energy field and landing in the sand before Andros. He leaned down and picked it up, brandishing the blade of the sword and swinging it in the air, then turned back towards the android.

Mac began to steadily walk towards the man, who charged at him once more. The blade was swung from side to side. Mac blocked it with his arm, then hit Andros in the stomach, forcing the man to arch down in pain. The machine grabbed him by his hair, and pulled him off the ground. In a fit of panic, the convict stabbed Mac in the side, leaving the sword lodged between the metallic plates.

“You cannot defeat me,” Mac stated, throwing Andros back. He then grabbed the sword and pulled it out. “I am stronger,” he redacted, grabbing the weapon by its handle. “I am faster.” He began to walk towards the man, who was already crawling back in fear. Mac kicked him in the jaw, letting out a loud crack. The man fell on the ground, Mac stood over him.

“I am…” he coldly stated as he raised the sword. Mac placed his foot on Andros’ chest, then brought the sword down on his neck.

“Better…”

The crowd cheered with intensity as the head rolled, leaving the sand stained with crimson. Mac discarded the stained sword, then looked back at the arena. Minerva lay on the ground breathing heavily, the corpse of one of the male ponies by his side. Nearby, Carry pushed off the other pony, leaving him on the sand with a dagger stuck in his chest, bleeding profusely.

Mac walked over to Adrian, who was on the ground, the hands of the muscly female minotaur around his neck. The android walked over.

“Die already, featherhead!” she exclaimed, tightening the grip on the gryphon’s neck.

“You’re alread-dy dead....” Adrian whispered.

Her eyes widened as two metallic hands grabbed the sides of her head, twisting it around and producing a deafening snap. Her body then fell limply on the sand. Mac straightened up, looking down at Adrian, who coughed and rubbed his neck as he stood up.

The crowd cheered as the last member of the other team ceased to live, leaving Minerva, Carry, Adrian and Mac standing near the center of the arena.

“And that, spectators,” the announcer bellowed, “was the first match of the proving grounds! I hope you enjoyed the carnage, because I sure as hell did!”

Berserker

The Caretaker

The crowd cheered with intensity. The coliseum was filled to the brim, full of spectators who had an almost-sadistical thirst for violence. Arthur smiled to himself as he watched the fight unfurl, thinking only of the amount of cash the fights had drawn in ever since that android entered the ring.

Rows upon rows of spectators cheered wildly. Arthur chuckled as the lanky old mare on the android’s team screamed in pain after a gryphon stabbed her in the leg.

“I’m surprised that bastard Adrian hasn’t died yet,” a voice to his left mentioned.

Arthur craned his neck to see the green eyes of another changeling. “Don’t worry, Lars,” Arthur chuckled. “He’ll die soon.”

“They will all die…”

“Damnit!” Carry exclaimed, walking with the help of Minerva, who at the same time rubbed his horn, which had been split in half. Mac walked past them along with Adrian, then the shield behind them sparked back up, leaving the entire group trapped in their cell once more.

Mac’s synthetic muscles relaxed, his jaw closed and gas shot off of his joints. Adrian walked by, looking up at the android with a worried expression.

“Still can’t get used to you doing that…” he muttered, shuddering. “Creepy…”

Minerva carried the old mare over to one of the dirty beds inside the cell and placed her down on it, leaving a faint trail of crimson behind them. She groaned in pain and clutched her left foreleg in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Minerva rubbed his broken horn.

“Shit…” he muttered, looking around the cell. “Hey, Adrian!” he called. The gryphon looked on as he sat down against the wall.

“Whatever you want, my answer is no…” He folded his front legs and let his head hang down.

“Well fuck you too, buddy…” Minerva sighed, looking up at Mac. “Boss, she’s bleeding too much…”

“B-boss?” Carry muttered. “Since when did Mac become boss?” she chuckled, then groaned.

Mac looked down at her, noticing a rather large slice across the muscle on her leg. He looked over his shoulder at the mostly empty supply crates, then back at Minerva. “Attempt to control the bleeding,” he stated, turning towards the crates and making his way towards them. As he rummaged through them—setting aside the objects he deemed not necessary—he could hear Carry’s voice getting weaker. As such, he sped up his search.

Eventually, he found a small box with a red cross on it. Shaking it to make sure it wasn’t empty, he quickly made his way back to the bleeding mare. He held out the box to Minerva, who quickly looked up, shaking his head and pointing to his broken horn.

“No can do,” he sighed. “It’ll grow back, but for now, no magic for me.”

Mac nodded, placing the box next to Carry. As he opened it, he motioned for Minerva to let go of the mare’s leg. Then, he retrieved a large autosyringe out of the box, along with a piece of cloth and surgical tape. Mac pressed a button on the syringe and the needle popped out.

“What’s inside those things, anyways?” Minerva asked.

Mac lined the syringe near her heart. “Nanites, steroids, adrenaline…” Minerva nodded and looked away as Mac brought the object onto Carry’s chest. She gasped and took deep breaths, her eyes widening until the object was extracted.

Minerva looked back at her wound, watching as the bleeding began to cease. Mac quickly wrapped her leg with the cloth, securing it with the tape.

Carry sighed, already feeling better by the looks of it. “Thanks…” she muttered, smiling weakly.

Minerva smiled as well, before his expression switched to one of gloom. He looked down, sighing, then looked back up, his eyes meeting those of the wounded mare.

“I just want this to end…” he muttered.

“Maybe next time,” she muttered back. “Maybe…”

Mac stood still in the darkest corner of the cell. He looked down at his body, seeing all of the damaged synthetic muscle had regenerated by now. Bringing his hands up, he examined them. A few spots were brown—dry blood. Then, he brought them down, turning towards the other side of the cell, seeing that Adrian was awake and well, already doing wing push-ups in complete silence. On the beds were Minerva and Carry, the former snoring loudly while the other was finishing her bowl of oatmeal. The android zoomed in on Carry, examining her wound, now nothing more than a large scar.

Two days had passed since the last fight. His ‘companions’ were tired, scarred and weak on the mind. All Mac could do was to try and keep them alive. An honest mission, but he still kept in mind Luna’s directive to him. He had been examining his surroundings, trying to think of a way to escape, but the coliseum was a literal fortress as far as he knew. In the end, all he could aspire to do was Bit Counter’s statement had some truth to it: perhaps the only way out was to endure all the fighting.

His internal thoughts were interrupted as the lights in the cell sparked up. Minerva gasped and shielded his eyes.

“Team Forty-Five, prepare for battle,” the automated voice stated.

Carry cast her bowl aside and stood up, groaning as she set weight on her leg. She then walked over to the changeling and stirred him up. “I’m up. Stop that,” he said in response.

Mac walked over into the light, looking at the tunnel that led to the arena. Adrian adjusted his armor, ruffled his wings and stood next to the towering android. Soon, Carry joined them, taking a deep breath.

“Here goes…” Minerva muttered.

The shield powered down. “Move to the arena,” stated the voice.

The light at the other end of the tunnel made itself visible once more, a sight that the group had now seen several times. Slowly, they began to walk. The cheering got louder and louder as they made it through the tunnel, and eventually, they revealed themselves to the spectators once more.

“Welcome!” the announcer exclaimed. “To the final match of this season!”

Minerva gasped. Adrian’s eyes widened. Carry grinned.

“Final match!?” the changeling exclaimed, wrapping his left foreleg around Adrian’s neck. “Hear that, buddy!?” he yelled in excitement. “We’re getting out of here!”

“I…” Adrian muttered. “I-I guess so!”

Mac looked down at Carry. “Where’s the other team?” she asked.

“Starring this match,” the announcer stated, “is team Forty-five!” she exclaimed. “They’ve clawed their way to the top, but they will face the greatest challenge of this here coliseum, one that we have specially prepared for you, the spectator, to enjoy!”

“W-what?” Minerva stuttered out, letting go of of Adrian.

A low rumble shook the arena. Mac clenched his fists, watching as the ground began to part. Beneath the surface, a gate opened along with it.

“It’s the Forty-fives, against Berserker!” the announcer yelled out. “Place your bets!”

“Ooooh…” Minerva’s ears drooped, staring as a massive behemoth revealed itself from under the arena. Its large, red eyes set themselves on Mac and his team as it pulled on the chains that bound it to platform that had risen from below. It spread out its scaly wings, flapping them and producing a sandstorm that enveloped the arena.

With a deafening roar that shook the entire coliseum, it spewed fire from its gaping maw, hitting the ceiling.

“Shit!” Adrian exclaimed. “How’re we gonna beat that!?”

The crowd cheered in excitement, and soon an assortment of weapons landed before the gladiators. Mac leaned over and grabbed a massive, plasma-edged sword by its handle, along with a small device, which he attached to his forearm, turning it on to produce a shield. He looked to his side to see the rest of the team already doing the same and arming themselves.

“Let the carnage… begin!”

As soon as the announcer finished, the chains that held the dragon in place were released, allowing it to spread out its arms and slam them against the walls of the arena, leaving visible cracks and producing a miniature quake.

“Move!” Carry yelled, rolling to the side. Minerva and Adrian reacted just in time to dodge out of the way of a fire blast. Mac remained in place, looking up at the towering monster.

“What are you doing!?” Adrian exclaimed. “Move!"

In a rush, Mac began to speed up towards the dragon. It looked down at him as he ran, roaring out and launching fire at him. The android covered himself with the shield, jumping and propelling himself with the thrusters on his back. Once he landed on the chest of the dragon, he barely had enough time to plunge the sword onto the scaly chest and use it to push himself further upwards before the dragon clawed at him.

Eventually, Mac landed on the dragon’s head and brought the sword down, only for it to grab him before he made contact. Once trapped in the monster’s claws, the two met eyes for just a second, then the beast slammed him against the wall of the arena, leaving him stuck in the broken concrete.

“Mac!”

Berserker swung its tail, almost sending the other three careening through the arena, then focused back on Mac, who was attempting to remove himself from the wall. Before he could react, the dragon inhaled deeply, then began to spit fire. Mac’s body began to heat up, automatically trying to cool itself down, but the flames left him charred and smoking. The unrelenting dragon did not wait, as it began to slam the android into the wall repeatedly until the wall itself gave out, plunging Mac into the area behind the wall.

He lay there, in a dark steel corridor. His body slowly began to cool down, releasing all manner of hot gases. He could see a few lines of code going through his system, but he could not yet move. All he could hear were the sounds of the crowd, the dragon itself, and a loud alarm.

Slowly, his vision returned to normal, noticing a red strobing light that lit the entire corridor. He slowly picked himself back up, just as Minerva, Carry and Adrian stepped through the same hole he had been slammed through, followed by a stream of fire behind them.

“Mac!” Minerva exclaimed, rushing over to the android. “Thanks the gods you’re alright!”

“What is this place?” Carry asked.

Adrian chuckled. “Our way out.”

Heavy steps resonated throughout the halls, joined by a set of voices. Mac stood straight along with the others, just as two gryphons clad in combat armor rounded a corner and aimed at them with gauss pistols.

“Drop your weapons!” they yelled. Minerva and the others froze in place.

“Drop them!” one of them yelled again. Reluctantly, the group dropped their swords one by one, then looked up at Mac worriedly. The android raised his arm and turned on the portable shield that was still attached to it, then rushed at the two.

A couple shots were fired, bouncing off of the shield. Mac slammed against one of the gryphons, sending him smashing against the nearest wall. The other one had no time to react, as Mac grabbed him by the neck and lifted him up. He struggled, trying to break free from the machine’s grasp.

“Arthur...” Mac stated, looking deep into the guard’s eyes. “Where is Arthur?”

The gryphon grinned. “Ain’t telling you—AAAGH!” he screamed as Mac squeezed his neck.

“Tell me,” Mac said coldly, staring directly into the guard’s eyes.

“Up,” the guard groaned out. “Keep going up... Top of the facility... It’s his office!”

“And how do we get out?” Mac asked.

“Follow the signs… Get to the parking hangar…”

“Thank you,” Mac said as he tightened his grip on the gryphon’s neck until he heard a loud snap. He then let the limp body drop before leaning down and gripping his hand around the pistol the guard had dropped.

Mac looked over his shoulder at his little group. “Find the exit, save yourselves… I must find Arthur.”

Adrian nodded and walked up to the android. “Whatever it is you want with that bastard, I wish you good luck.”

“We won’t forget about you,” Carry mentioned.

“Have at it, boss!” Minerva exclaimed.

“Do not be afraid, spectators,” an automated voice sounded off as Mac made his way through the corridors. “The escapees have been apprehended, there is no need for concern.”

Mac’s steps resonated throughout the corridors as he made a mad sprint. The alarms had long since ceased, but the guards were on alert regardless. He stuck himself to a wall as two pony guards ran past. Shortly after, he continued making his way through, rounding a corner and up through a flight of stairs.

He clutched his hand hard on the gauss pistol, determined to complete his task.

As he met a junction between the halls, he looked up at the signs hanging from the ceiling, one of them signalling an elevator nearby. As such, he chose said hall and continued, eventually meeting with the elevator itself. Its doors slid open automatically, allowing Mac to enter.

He looked at the control panel, and amongst dozens of floors, he pressed the button to the highest one.

“Please present required credentials…” an automated feminine voice stated. Mac looked at the panel, his eyes glowing strong for just a second.

“Bypass accepted…”

The elevator rumbled as it began to ascend. Mac looked down at the pistol, turning the safety off as the floor count went up.

“I know you’re coming for me…” Arthur’s voice sounded through the elevator’s speakers. “I’ll give you one chance to turn away and flee..”

“I cannot afford that,” Mac stated.

Soon, the elevator slowed down. Mac readied his pistol as the doors slid open, just in time for a few shots to go through. He rushed out of the elevator, looking at the two changelings that were standing before a large gate.

A bullet bounced off of the armor plate on Mac’s shoulder, and he retaliated by firing off a single shot that meant the demise of one of the changelings, as it pierced cleanly through his head. The other had no time to react before another shot met his chest, splattering the wall behind him with crimson.

Mac calmly walked past the two bodies, and onto the gate behind them. He looked down, noticing none of them had the purple eyes of Arthur. The android pressed a button on a panel next to the doors, prompting them to slowly slide open, revealing a large hall. Busts of different people lined the walls, but none that Mac could recognize. At the end of the hall, up a set of stairs, was a golden door. Mac continued to walk, illuminated by the light that entered the hall through the windows on the sides. He maintained a secure grip on the pistol as he approached the door.

He stood still before the door, looking at both his sides, then violently kicked the door, sending it careening into the room behind it. Mac quickly walked in, training the pistol. He found himself alone in said room, nothing but a few paintings, a bed, a desk, and a weapon rack.

He noticed something moving behind the desk. Mac aimed his pistol and slowly walked towards it, stepping quickly to aim behind the desk.

And there it was, a female changeling cowering behind the desk. “D-don’t shoot!”

“Who are you?” Mac asked. “Where is Arthur!?”

“I-I’m Colline!” she pleaded. “Arthur’s s-secretary!”

Mac looked into the changeling’s bright, purple eyes. He leaned down, grabbing her by the neck, releasing a rather manly groan as its physique changed into that of a male changeling instead.

“Arthur…” Mac whispered. “Why… Why did you take Celestia?”

The changeling looked deep into Mac’s eyes. “It was a contract,” he said. “Nothing personal.”

Mac tightened his grip around the changeling’s neck. “Who? Why?”

“No clue…” he groaned out. “All I know is... All of them… You, the humans…” He smiled. “You’ve no place in this world… You’re the scourge of this world! And we’re gonna set things right!”

“What do you mean?”

“Humans killed a lot of people… people dear to me.” He chuckled. “It’ll all be over soon…”

Mac watched as Arthur opened his mouth, revealing a strange, yellow pill between his teeth. He quickly bit into it, seizing up. In a matter of seconds, his mouth foamed up and his body fell limp. Mac let go of him, watching as he fell to the ground.

The android stood there in complete silence, unsure as to what to do. He looked down at Arthur’s body, then walked back over to the desk, sitting down in front of the terminal and placing the pistol next to it. Shortly after, he bypassed the security and began to look through it.

He could not find much, aside from personal messages related to Arthur’s close friends and contacts, but none of them had anything to do with the kidnapping of Celestia. He began to look through the messages close to the date of the kidnapping, until he found a conversation…

“Where’d you think they took her, boss?”

“Someplace in Zebrica, a factory or something. They didn’t tell me anything else… shady motherfuckers.”

Upon reading the message, Mac stood up, grabbing both the pistol and a set of keys off of the desk.

The gate slowly opened, allowing Mac to walk out. He found himself in a large hangar with several civilian vehicles parked all along it. The android pressed a button on the key set he held in his hands, prompting one of the hover cars to beep and light up. He walked over to it, its doors automatically opening for him. Once in, he adjusted the seat and inserted the keys into a port near the steering wheel.

“Welcome back, Arthur,” an automated voice said.

The engines roared to life, and soon, Mac flew out of the hangar, a destination already in mind…

Zebrica.

Enter Zebrica

The Caretaker

The wind blew gently, picking up the sand and producing tiny clouds of dust every now and then. The scorching sun glowed with intensity, heating up the desert to almost unbearable levels. Up to the horizon, there was nothing but dunes, stretching up and up. A single tumbleweed bounced about with no real direction, carried by the wind.

Suddenly, a small speck could be seen far into the desert, growing bigger as it sped through the sand, cutting through the dunes at a high speed.

Mac kept a steady hand on the steering wheel of the late Arthur’s vehicle, leaving behind a cloud of sand as it dashed through the desert. With his free hand, he continued to brush burnt nanite cells off of his body, revealing the newly regenerated synthetic muscle and allowing the dead nanites to be carried away by the wind.

He looked at the GPS on the car’s dashboard, noticing an error sign. The compass, though, was working fine. Regardless, he stepped on the pedal and kept going south.

He knew he would find a way, eventually.

A small window opened up on his vision; an incoming transmission.

“Mac?” A mare’s voice sounded off inside Mac’s head. “Oh gods, you’re back! I was… I was about to lose hope.”

“Sharpy,” Mac replied. “It is good to hear from you.”

“I lost contact with you months ago,” she stated. “Where have you been!?”

“Tracking Arthur.”

“Did you get him?” Sharpy asked, excitement in her voice. “Did you find Celestia?”

“Arthur is dead,” Mac stated. “And I have a lead on Celestia.” He checked the GPS. “I am heading to Zebrica. Why is my GPS malfunctioning?”

“Zebrica?” Sharpy said quizzically. “We don’t have accurate mapping of Zebrica… They chose to divide themselves from the other continents after the humans arrived, and surprisingly enough, they’ve been kept that way.”

“Any ideas?” he asked.

“Just… keep going south, I guess,” Sharpy sighed.

Mac remained in silence for a few seconds. “How is the state of affairs back in Canterlot?”

“It’s getting chaotic,” Sharpy replied. “Rumors are spreading that something’s wrong with the sisters… Luna’s very tired. Angry, and such. I’ve been the one in charge of her medication. She hates that stuff! I mean, how did you manage giving that thing to her for more than ten years?”

“She needs it,” Mac replied. “That was enough for me.”

Sharpy sighed. “So… what happened to you?” she asked. “Something interesting must’ve happened during those two and a half months.”

“Arthur happened to manage a sort of fight pit,” he said. “I got… caught in it.”

“Darn…” Sharpy trailed off. “Two months of fighting? Alone? What did you fight, even?”

“I had… help.” Mac looked down. “They pit us against convicts, for the most part.”

“Right.” She sighed. “So, what’s your plan now?”

“I dug through Arthur’s personal computer,” Mac said. “I did not find much aside from a conversation where he mentioned Zebrica. A factory of some sort.”

“Why would they take Celestia to a factory?” Sharpy asked.

“I hope to find out soon.”

“Me too…” Sharpy muttered.

Mac looked up into the horizon, tilting his head as he zoomed in, noticing several palm trees rising amidst the dunes. His hands wrapped around the steering wheel and his foot stepped on the gas, speeding up.

“Did you find something?” Sharpy asked.

“I hope so,” Mac replied.

Soon amidst the palm trees, Mac could make out a few structures, brown buildings that looked as if they were going to collapse all on their own. He slowed down, halting to a stop on the outskirts of the town. His feet dug into the sand as he stepped out of the vehicle, leaving it there.

As he approached the small town, he could already make out the figures of a few of the inhabitants rushing about, entering their houses and leaving the doors locked behind them. Soon, he found himself walking through the town, alone with only the tumbleweeds to join him. Mac looked to the side, watching as a window was closed. Nevertheless, he kept on.

A small, wooden sign on top of a large building swung about with help of the wind; Mac stared at it, unable to make out the writing, yet he could hear movement inside. He slowly approached the structure, gently placing his hand on the door and pushing it open before leaning down and walking into it.

All the chatter stopped abruptly. Mac found himself being stared at by a multitude of zebras. They all remained like that for a few seconds, before one of them stood up and used his mouth to grab a knife off of a nearby table.

“Stop!”

Mac stared back at the one with the knife. An even burlier zebra—one with a sizeable nose ring—stood next to him, breathing on his neck. They both exchanged glances, and a few words were muttered. The knife was slammed into the table, and the offending equine sat back down.

The zebra with the nose ring sighed, then looked up at Mac. “I trust our… ‘visitor’, isn’t here to cause problems?”

“I come in peace,” Mac replied.

“Good,” the burly zebra replied, waving the android over as he walked behind a rather rustic bar. Mac sat on the floor, still a head or two above the zebra. “Do you drink?” he asked. Mac shook his head.

The zebra sighed. “I am Zabbini, local barkeep,” he said with a heavy accent. “I thought the treaty forbids soldiers from entering Zebrica?”

“I am not a soldier,” Mac replied.

“You look like a soldier,” Zabbini continued. “Metal armor, heavy weight, weapon on the hip. What do they call those? ‘Pistole’?”

“I am simply looking for someone,” Mac stated.

“Who?” Zabbini inquired. “I will not rat out fellow zebra, let alone a fellow villager of our town Zecos. Do not cross me, for I am perhaps the only one who is willing to talk to you in the entire village.”

“Do you have a factory nearby? Anywhere?” Mac asked.

“Factory?” Zabbini tilted his head. “Let me ask a question first.” The zebra leaned in. “What in the world are you?”

The chatter within the bar died out once more. Mac looked behind him, then back at Zabbini.

“Your cold eyes,” the zebra began. “Metallic body, exposed muscle, skull head, height to rival a giraffe… You say you are not a soldier but we know, we know that you are at least a warrior, for whom we do not know, but a warrior nonetheless. You have scars to prove it… Yet…” Zabbini leaned back. “A warrior has a soul, but your eyes are empty and your voice is fake.”

“What are you?”

“I am…” Mac begun. “I am a machine.”

“A machine, you say?” Zabbini asked. “Machines make motions, they work and repeat, they do not choose what to do.Your body moves stiff, but at the same time unlike a machine, yet you are. You are and you are not. A warrior with no soul, yet… a warrior still. You are trapped in a void between life and death, between existing, and actually being.” The zebra smiled.

Mac stood silent for a moment as the rest of the zebras went back to their business. Zabbini grabbed a hold of a glass and began cleaning it. “Years ago, before the treaty that meant the divide between Zebrica and the world, one of those ‘factories’ was cemented not far from here. What it was meant for, nobody knows, but what we all know is that the spirits of its former occupants still roam its halls after they mysteriously died, still working hour after hour, producing product that will never be, like machines without supervisor.” The zebra reached behind the bar, producing an old parchment. He then set it on the bar before Mac and blew the dust off of it. “The factory is here,” he said, pointing with his hoof. “East of town.”

Mac leaned closer, his eyes casting light onto the map, quickly scanning it. Zabbini watched as the machine stood up, turning towards the door.

“Good luck, warrior,” Zabbini mentioned as Mac walked out.

He pushed past the doors to the bar, finding himself once more amidst the town of Zecos, somewhere in the Zebrican desert.

“That was… weird,” Sharpy muttered.

Mac turned the steering wheel to the left, drifting through the dunes of Zebrica at a high speed. Aside from the roar of the engines and the wind, it was almost completely silent, the sun still high in the sky. Somewhere between the sand, a large structure revealed itself to the android. It definitively looked old, the windows were broken, sand piled on near the entrances and every piece of metal was long rusted.

The vehicle slowed down to a halt near the structure. He stepped out of it, feet digging into the sand as he looked up at the old, towering chimneys.

Mac carefully walked closer to the main entrance, stopping right before a old set of metallic doors. He gently pushed on them, yet the force was enough for them to fall into the factory by themselves, raising a small cloud of dust and producing a sound that echoed around the building. Mac carefully crouched in, something snapping under the weight of his foot. He looked down, the broken skull of a gryphon under him.

A long, echoing, metallic groan made him look back up. He disregarded the skeleton and continued through the hall, lifting up clouds of dust with every step he took. It wasn’t long before he crouched through another doorway, finally entering the core of the factory. Unused, rusty machinery surrounded a main line of assembly, beginning with a large container made to handle molten metal. Mac stopped in his tracks as a slice of sheet metal flew past him, carried by the wind.

As Mac walked through, he stepped onto another bone hidden by the dust, the resulting snap echoing through the factory. Suddenly, he heard something ruffling behind a table amidst what seemed to be the dining hall. He froze in place and reached for his gun, only to see a vulture fly from behind said table, maneuvering through the factory and exiting through a hole in the roof. Mac relaxed, letting his arms hang down normally.

It seemed to be as Zabbini said, save for the ghosts. Mac made his way through the factory, only managing to find dusty bones, rather than actual people. Eventually, he took to a flight of stairs, the metallic steps groaning in response to his weight. He stopped midway, looking down at the factory floor, a hook swinging about with help of the wind amongst and the machinery.

Once he met another door, he carefully wrapped his hand around the handle, pushing it open. He then found himself in what seemed to be an office of sorts. A few filing cabinets lined the walls, along with a desk and an old terminal. Most notable, however, were the skeletons spread about on the floor, all arranged in a circle and consisting mostly of ponies.

Mac walked into the old office, careful not to step on the bones this time. He looked down at them, pondering what may have caused their demise. Mac walked over to the desk, looking down at the skeleton of a gryphon still sitting in the desk’s respective chair. He carefully pushed it off, letting the bones fall to the floor and rattle about before he sat down, taking its place.

With his hand, the android brushed the dust off of the terminal’s screen, then reached behind, pulling the power cord away from the wall. He shook some of the dust covering the plug, then inserted it in a small slot in his left forearm. Then, the screen lit again for the first time in ages.

It seemed to be a rather simple terminal, displaying nothing more than a few messages back from when the factory was still operational. Seeing as there was not much else to do, Mac began to read.

1- Factory Manager: Teller Claw…

“The raw material from Alpha site is being processed at nominal rates. Never thought I’d find myself administering a metallurgy plant. There’s one problem, though: rations haven’t been delivered in a couple of days. It must be a problem with the delivery system. They’ll work it out, I bet.

2- Factory Manager: Teller Claw…

“We’ve run out of metal to process, and the rations still haven’t arrived. Everyone’s just… sitting around. We’ve resorted to managing what’s left of the food and water. Things are still going easy, relatively speaking…”

3- Factory Manager: Teller Claw…

“They’ve forgotten us… No more food, and almost no more water. The nearest settlement is miles away, and it’s the middle of the summer… If we had gone out before, we might’ve made it, but now…”

4- Factory Manager: Teller Claw…

“Minnie and two other of the changeling workers just ran off… And we discovered Trent dead by the entrance. I… I drained his blood, drank it. Tasted horrible but… I’m not as thirsty anymore. Hope the others don’t find out.”

5- Factory Manager: Teller Claw…

“I…. I had to. Bitty caught me… eating Berry. I killed her, too. I must be stronger than her... She was too weak. I’ll feast on the rest, too.”

6- Factory Manager: Teller Claw…

“And now I sit here… I arranged the corpses in a circle. Maybe then they’ll find peace for what I did… And now I sit here, dying, writing shit on this fucking terminal. If anyone ever finds this… Go to the south, find the GoldenTalon mining complex and kill them, all of them! They left us here to die and....”

Mac stood up, unplugging himself from the terminal.

“Grim…” Sharpy muttered. “Never heard from any factories or mining complexes on Zebrica, and now… I wish I hadn’t.”

Mac stepped past the skeletons, over to the door.

“So, GoldenTalon mining it is, right?”

“Indeed,” Mac stated.

Expedition

The Caretaker

The sun had long dipped below the horizon amidst the dunes of Zebrica. The stars shone vividly, with no clouds nor artificial lightning to dim them. The wind howled in a foreboding manner, with nothing else to provide sound amidst the barren desert.

A massive building loomed ahead, its windows dark with no light coming from within, other than a screen on the main gate, which barely managed to display the words, “GoldenTalon Mining, Zebrica expedition,” despite the apparent lack of power running through the facility.

It wasn’t as big as he had expected it to be, yet he knew the site had more to show than what could be seen from the outside. He readied his gauss pistol, grabbing it from his hip. A few small cables attached to the main gate sparked as he walked closer. Mac approached a small control panel on the side, his hand carefully reaching over to a lever. He tried to pull it down, yet it did not budge at first, then abruptly went down.

With a mechanical groan, only the left side of the gate began to open, revealing a large landing pad surrounded by metallic buildings. Mac’s motion sensor lit, and he looked up to see a hook swinging about, hanging from one of the buildings. He then relaxed, walking further towards the landing pad, only the howling wind and the neutral beep of his motion sensor to accompany him.

After making his way past the landing pad, Mac reached another gate. This time, after accessing the control panel, the door opened up with no problem. He walked inside, the lights of his eyes illuminating a large, metallic hallway. He kicked an empty can with his foot as he moved, watching as it rattled further into the dark. He checked his motion detector, then kept moving.

A distant, mechanical groan echoed through the halls. Mac rounded a corner, having reached a junction. He looked up at the signs…

“Security Station”

Mac moved forth, turning around when a loud hissing sound reached his sensors. He stood still, watching as a large, red pipe blew a hole and began to shoot steam, which seeped into the air. Slowly, he relaxed, turning back to the door that led to the security hub, but quickly found it to be broken and bent inwards, as if something had forced its way into the room. Mac stepped past the broken glass and weaved through the doorway, entering the station. He looked down to see a trail of dry blood on the floor; a gauss rifle where it began, and a broken vent where it ended.

The android stood there for a second, realizing that something had dragged someone into the vent, leaving behind the rifle. He carefully walked over the dry blood, leaning down to grab it. Once the weapon was in his hands, he aimed it at the vent and shined light into it. All he could see was the blood trailing further into the ventilation system. Incidentally, it was too small for him to enter.

Mac lowered the rifle, walking over to the actual security hub. The screens were splattered with blood, and most of them were broken. The android reached over for a small, blood-covered data pad sitting atop the keyboard. He brought it to his eyes, reading, “Something’s broken out of the bottom level. Order is to leave—”

And it ended.

Whoever typed that in was caught off guard by something, clearly, Mac thought as he carelessly dropped the pad and turned, heading out of the ravaged station. He walked past the steam and further into the facility.

As he walked, he eventually met what could have been nothing other than a barricade: a broken one, composed of tables, chairs and metallic plates. Mac crouched through, stepping once again in dry blood. The walls were riddled with bullet holes, scorch and claw marks. He walked past them and another set of breached doors, finding himself in a large hall lined with bunk beds—all undone, some with blood on them—yet no bodies. Near the entrance was a small desk with a simple terminal on it. Mac, curious, walked over and sat down, looking at the dimly lit screen.

“Been three days since the breakout. Whole site’s been locked down… Only way out is through the landing pad… We can’t hold on much longer. Charlotte’s bleeding out...”

Mac looked to his right, noticing a hole on the floor on the far side of the crew quarters. Approaching it, he carefully leaned over the edge and looked down, observing that the hole went down several floors and was big enough for him to drop through. He looked quickly to the sides, then stepped over, falling down a few floors and landing with a deafening slam on the metal floor below, now finding himself inside what seemed to be a supply storage room. Mac looked around, casting light upon the many crates—noticing most were tipped over and empty—and deducing that whoever was last there must have exhausted their supplies.

The android made his way past the crates, freezing in place as his motion sensor began to beep. He looked up, hearing something crawling inside the ceiling. He tracked the sound, unsure if he should fire his weapon or not. Eventually, whatever was inside left the vicinity, leaving Mac completely alone once again.

Gripping the rifle tightly, Mac pressed a button that opened the next door. He walked through, finding himself in a long flight of stairs. The android then looked up, staring at the far ceiling, then looked back down, knowing that if he wanted to find out what had happened, he would have to go keep going down.

His steps resonated with each stride he took, stopping every once a few steps to look around. A low, distant moan caught his attention. Mac looked around, shining his light around the vicinity and aiming his rifle until the silence returned.

Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, he was met with another set of doors. Mac pressed a button on the wall next to it, prompting it to open only halfway. He crouched by, finding himself in a large dining hall. Food trays were spread all around, and spots with dry blood littered the area. Something fell from the grates in the ceiling. Mac stopped dead in his tracks, looking down at what could have only been a bloodied unicorn horn. Immediately, he gazed up, shining light into a hole on the ceiling and aiming his rifle at it. He could hear something inside the ceiling, along with the beeping of his motion tracker. He remained frozen in place until that thing—whatever it was—left the vicinity, then slowly resumed walking.

Without anything but the beat of his motion tracker to keep him company, Mac continued to trudge through the facility. At that point, he found himself in a network of metallic hallways. He kept walking until a sign on the ceiling pointed to an area deemed “Administration.”

The few lights still powered were left behind, now with nothing but the light of his eyes to illuminate the way. Mac stuck his hands between the doors to the administration room, and forced them open, producing a low metallic moan. He gripped his rifle tightly as he walked in, entering a room filled with desks and terminals, with a main control center at the far side. The android slowly walked past the desks, reaching the large console.

He looked down at the screens, noticing one that weakly displayed a small map, one that led from his current location into what appeared to be a cargo lift heading to the lower level. The only problem was the warning sign, which told Mac that the sector of the facility he was in currently had no power.

Mac looked to the side, noticing a large lever on a wall to his left. He slowly made his way through, a sign above it reading, “Main circuit breaker: Section Sixteen,”

He looked to the sides, then wrapped his fingers around the lever, slowly pulling it down.

The lights turned on, some of them popping, along with a mechanical groan that echoed around the facility. Suddenly, Mac could hear several guns going off nearby, along with the loud cries and growls of what seemed to be feral creatures: perhaps what killed the people in the site to begin with.

He aimed his rifle just as a vent on the ceiling was torn open, revealing a hideous creature with red eyes, dark chitinous skin, and long claws that dug into the metallic floor. It roared loudly, revealing a set of sharp fangs, before it charged at Mac. He squeezed the trigger, sending a barrage of gauss shells into the creature. Blood splattered into one of the desks, the creature falling dead before Mac.

The distant howls and cries could still be heard, but the gunshots were no more. Mac realized that he had awoken something, and that time was running out. He looked at the map once more and began a mad sprint, past the corpse of the creature and back into the halls.

Another one of the monsters rounded a corner in front of Mac, lunging at him. He struck it in mid-air with the butt of his rifle, then fired a burst as it fell on the floor, killing it. He could hear rapidly approaching steps behind him, so he ran faster. One of the monsters launched itself at him from behind, grabbing his head and clawing frantically at it. Mac grabbed it with his free hand and slammed it on the floor, stomping on its head and cracking it, then kept running.

Mac quickly stepped through a doorway, slamming his hand on the control panel on the other side, prompting the door to close, barely fast enough to halt the advance of the creatures behind him. They continued to slam themselves on the closed door, bending it further and further with each slam.

The android disregarded the door and turned around, finding himself in a large cave-like elevator shaft. He stepped in the middle and pressed a few buttons on the control console. The elevator groaned and began to descend, just as the creatures broke through the door and began to seep into the shaft, crawling on the rocky walls of the shaft.

Mac took aim and began to fire, the muzzle flash of the rifle illuminating the shaft with each shot. The monsters began to fall limp, their bodies piling up along the sides of the elevator.

The elevator began to stagger. Mac looked at one of the engines, noticing the body of one of the monster stuck in it. He quickly made his way over to it and grabbed it by the arm, tearing off of the engine. Once the elevator began to move again, Mac continued to fire.

After a minute or so, the elevator slowed to a dead halt. The barrel on Mac’s rifle was red hot. He looked at all the bodies, then over to a massive gate in front of the elevator. He slowly began walking, and the gates opened by themselves. He stepped through, finding himself looking up at a towering heap of machinery. Cables were strewn about\, connected to what was nothing more than a massive gate made out of bones and machinery, spewing fire from its mouth.

Mac slowly stepped forth, looking up at the machinery. He froze in place as something came into view.

At the top, attached to the machinery with a set of cables on their horn, was a white alicorn. She moaned in pain as the cables on her horn sparked. She groggily laid her eyes on Mac, who looked back up at her, her pupils dilated, her coat soaking wet. The cables sparked again, making her entire body twitch violently.

“So you finally made your way to us, I see,” another voice said.

Mac looked to the left, his eyes setting themselves on a control room filled with ponies and some gryphons, all behind a blue energy shield.“Who are you?” he asked, aiming his rifle at them.

“GoldenTalon Director, Rattly Can,” the pony said. “Member of a rather powerful organization, aside from GoldenTalon itself.”

Celestia groaned in pain, the hellgate behind her spewing fire.

“We’re about to restore this world to its normal state, like it was before the human scum came into it!”

“Why?” Mac asked, lowering his rifle. “What have humans done to you?”

“The civil war that ensued after they came to our planet devastated many lives. More than you can imagine,” Rattly said. “Us ponies have lost what used to make us special, but we’ll take it back!”

“You are insane…” Mac stated. “Why did you take Celestia to begin with?”

“Why?” Rattly asked in a sarcastic manner. “To harvest her power, and light this gate to Tartarus once more!”

Mac looked to the side. “Why?”

“Because there’s someone quite special in there,” Rattly continued. “Someone to whom we’ve been giving Celestia’s power. One that can restore the world!”

“Who?” Mac asked. “What do you plan to do!?”

“Just look!” Rattly yelled.

Celestia screamed in pain as the hellgate lit up. Fire and screams emerged from it as Mac stood helpless, watching as the machinery drained Celestia to the last drop of her power. Slowly, a massive figure emerged from the fire, its hooves quaking the ground with each step it took. it looked at its hands and chuckled. Mac looked up at the towering beast, noticing the orb of pure power between its horns.

“Lord Tirek!” Rattly yelled.

“Aaah…” Tirek sighed in comfort. “To be amongst the living once more…” He looked over to the ponies. “So it is you who has been giving me this power. I’ve never felt stronger… I suppose I should thank you.” He walked over to Celestia, leaning down and looking her in the eyes with anger. “To harvest the power of an alicorn over time, rather than drain a small amount all at once… Impressive.”

Rattly laughed. “Thank you, my lord!”

“Now now…” Tirek grinned. “I suppose you have a request for me?”

“Indeed, my lord…” Rattly smiled.

“Out with it, then,” Tirek commanded.

“You see…” Rattly began. “More than ten years ago, a filth of a species—the humans—came to our world. They spread war and conflict, and our species has lost their way… We ask you, Lord Tirek, to exterminate the human scum and restore this world to its rightful order!”

“Very well…” Tirek mused. “As the ruler of Tartarus and soon the be overlord of the mortal realm, I will exterminate the humans… And then everything else!”

“W-what?” Rattly stuttered. “But that’s not what our deal was!”

“Never make deals with the devil, pony!” Tirek laughed, reaching over and grabbing Celestia, forcibly pulling her off of the machinery attached to her. Suddenly, the gate to hell behind him began to spew fire, along with more of the creatures Mac had seen before, and even more he did not recognize. The entire area echoed with the desperate cries of Rattly Can and her allies.

Mac quickly rushed over to Tirek, firing his rifle. The centaur-like monster effortlessly produced a shield that blocked the projectiles. The android then jumped, slamming the butt of his rifle on Tirek’s horn, only to be grabbed by Tirek’s free hand.

Tirek looked at Celestia, who looked back at him with weak fury, then Mac, who helplessly tried to break free from his grasp. He laughed loudly. “Let’s see how you two enjoy being stuck in there!” he angrily yelled before throwing them both into the gate.

All they could hear were the cries of a million damned souls.

The Attack

The Caretaker

“Let’s see…” she sighed. “Journal entry one-sixty-five…”

Twilight sat before a desk, surrounded by bookshelves that almost completely covered the shiny, crystal walls of her castle. Her eyes scanned the flat, glowing surface of the device she currently held in her magic. It flashed with words as they scrolled up, making way for more to appear on the screen.

She licked her lips and thought about what she was going to say. “Advanced Warp Drive physics?” She thought to herself. “Or what about… Non-military gauss rail applications?”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, bouncing a bit on her chair. Twilight then laid her hooves upon the wooden desk, swept away some notes, and placed the datapad on it. “Right… Non-Magical wormhole production and control. Wanted to do that one for a while now,” she said to herself, smiling.

“Aaand… Go,” she said, beginning to dictate to the pad. “Producing, guiding and maintaining wormholes—or in magical terms, portals—may prove to be an advanced yet crucial spell in the lives of trained unicorn scholars and magicians alike. But, with the introduction of highly advanced technologies by part of the humans, this ability has become close to being accessible to both non-magical and magical individuals.”

She placed her hoof on her chin. “The divide is simple: humans developed the technology to travel astronomical distances in short times, while us Equestrians, without having a proper concept of the universe beyond our sky, developed it with the point of travelling short distances in a nearly instant manner within our own planet.”

Twilight furrowed her brow and looked up. “Now, we’re coming close to producing a sort of mix between magic and technology that will allow everyone to travel both astronomical and short distances with little to no effort. I foresee that this may be commercialized and globalized first for military use before it becomes accessible to the civilian market…”

“And—” A frantic knock on the door took her eyes away from the screen. She sighed, “Spike?” She stepped off of the chair, leaving the desk behind. “I told you not to interrupt me when I’m dictating my journal…” She was about to open the door when the dragon came through by himself, running over to the center of the room and stopping. He leaned down and began panting.

“Twi… Twilight!” he exclaimed, receiving an odd look by part of the alicorn. “I… The sky… Look at the sky!”

“What are you talking about, Spike?” Twilight nonchalantly asked as she walked over to the nearest window. Her eyes widened.

The sky had taken a dark, crimson shade, whereas Twilight could have sworn to Celestia that it was sunny and cloudless just a few minutes ago.

“I…” Twilight muttered. “What… What is this?”

“I don’t know!” Spike spat out.

A loud, long howl boomed across Ponyville. Twilight and Spike could see dropships flying over to the horizon, their engines growling furiously. Cries of panic and fear soon filled the streets, the sky growing ever darker.

“Air raid sirens? Twilight asked. “Oh Celestia…” she muttered as the data pad on the desk lit up.

“Attention Citizens of the Ponyville District,” a male voice sounded through the device. “We interrupt your activities. This is a world-wide emergency.” The words sent shivers down Twilight’s back. “Important details will follow…”

“Spike,” Twilight said as she walked over and picked up the pad. “Go get me my emergency saddlebags!”

“On it!” Spike exclaimed, running out of the room.

“The following message is transmitted at the request of the United Species Coalition,” the announcement continued. “A foreign force has invaded the southern pole of the planet. Three hours ago, a Colonial Guard emplacement was attacked at the border of Zebrica, and has moved to assault the city of Fillydelphia.”

Twilight walked over to the window, staring at the red sky.

“The Nineteenth regiment of the Colonial Guard has been deployed to participate in the defence of Ponyville district.”

Twilight turned as she heard Spike come back into the room. “Here!” he said as he placed the bags on her back.

The message continued, “As of now, you are indicated to evacuate to the nearest underground shelter and await the all-clear signal. This message will now repeat.”

“Come on, Spike!” Twilight yelled. “Let’s go!”

Together, they began a mad sprint through the castle, their steps echoing through all the halls. They could already hear the cries of panic coming from outside, along with the air raid siren and the dropships hovering above.

As they neared the castle’s exit, the door was blown down. Twilight and Spike skidded to a stop, halting before a massive biped. Twilight’s eyes trailed from the muscular metal-clad legs, the armored chest and the helmet. “C-colonial guard?” Twilight muttered.

The human looked down at her, reaching over his back and grabbing a hold of his gauss rifle. “Corporal Abel Torr!” he exclaimed, the voice slightly distorted as it went through the mask. “You’ve been designated as a V.I.P., Princess Twilight! I’m here to escort you to the shelter!”

“I’ll be fine!” Twilight exclaimed. “Help the others!”

“The rest of my platoon is already on it!” Abel exclaimed. “Come on, follow me!”

Twilight and Spike looked at each other, nodding, before taking off at the trail of the human soldier. They finally stepped outside, finding themselves in the streets of Ponyville. Ponies ran to and fro, sometimes crashing into each other. Humans could be seen leading them into supposed safety, the dropships hovering ominously overhead.

“Abel!” Twilight yelled as she ran after the soldier. “What’s going on!? Why is the sky red!?”

“Something’s attacked us from the south!” the soldier responded, motioning her to keep going. “Wiped out the whole encampment near Zebrica!”

“Wait!” Twilight exclaimed. “Maybe I can fix this!”

“Whatever you want to do, you can do it in the shelter!” Abel yelled.

A distant boom reached Twilight’s ears. “What was that!?”

“We’ve confirmation!” Abel responded. “Whatever attacked us is already here, keep moving!”

Twilight grabbed Spike with her magic and placed him on her back. She looked to the side, her eyes widening. An old, pink building was at the side of the road, a fire raging at the top. “Is that…” Spike muttered.

“Sugarcube Corner…” Twilight sighed, rounding a corner as she followed the human. She looked forward as they began to cut through a mob of ponies, along with some gryphons and changelings.

“I’ve got a V.I.P. with me. Move!” Abel yelled as he pushed through, eventually leading Twilight and Spike to the entrance. They looked down at a steep slope that ended in a massive, metallic blast door that supposedly led to the shelter. The humans guarding the entrance made way for her and Spike, with Abel leading them into the shelter. There, the two found themselves in a massive chamber lined with simple beds stacked in rows. Another explosion made everyone inside look up as dust fell from the ceiling.

“This is it!” Abel yelled. “Stay here, alright?”

Twilight nodded.

“What about you? You gonna be alright?” Spike asked, looking up into Abel’s visor.

“It’s fine,” he responded as he walked out of the shelter. “Protecting people; it’s what us Colonial Guards do,” he said as the blast doors began to close.

“Wait!” Twilight yelled. “There are more people outside! What about them!?”

“They’ll have to find another shelter,” Abel muttered before the doors closed, leaving Twilight and Spike amongst a massive crowd of people, all in complete silence. The sirens could not be heard anymore, nothing could be heard anymore save from the occasional gasp every time an explosion rocked the ground beneath them.