A Derpy Apocalypse: Perseverence

Bad premonition? Maybe. Something about this place doesn't feel right — doesn't feel natural. Something's a bit off. Could be, by some 'arbitrary chance,' the fact that they experiment on creatures that they apparently engineered, and that they have the technology to advance equine strength by 200%, but, nevertheless, I'll reside.

However, I'll be sticking my nose here and there to find out anything important. I'm sure Twilight didn't tell me everything, and as much as I hate to say it, I don't know if her story and reasons are true. She mentioned that she wanted to see me reanimated then I stopped her...Celestia know's what she'd have said next had I not shown my disapproval so blatantly. I guess it was excessive emotion. She seems to be upset about it but, she has so much 'trouble' showing emotion about things like, you know, ponies being torn apart by others.

On the off-chance that she is being honest however, how would it look that I didn't trust her? Of course, if she really was who she says she is, I'm sure she'd understand the difficulty -- I'll stay iffy about it until I know more.

I have two options, believe or doubt. I suspect I should be prepared for anything and be on my own side until I can come to a well-fortified conclusion.

Well, it's about 12:00 now. I'm not tired yet. Kinda been asleep for 500 years, so I'd expect that myself. I might as well act asleep, though. Who knows, maybe I'll be abducted again or something.

The room itself is nice, sort of a elliptical or dome-ish room. The bed is packed tightly and cozily in a small space just big enough to sleep comfortably in. There's some bookshelves above it, and a few flower vases around it. The window looks like an oval with some steel framing forming a square in the middle equidistant from the ends of the oval glass. The room's floor is made of a dark shaded wood, covered up in the center by a red carpet. The rest of the room is a futuristically-shaped, white wall.

Manehattan. Such a beautiful place you used to be, gleaming with your city lights, your endless streets, and majestic buildings. I remember walking those streets and dreaming of being on the top floors of those buildings and hotels. I remember dreaming of being on top of the world, looking down on all of the other foals who wanted the same. I thought I'd see everything, I thought I'd know everything. I knew one day I'd arrive at that height, that I'd be able to live up to my dream. One day, I'd be able to see everything. One day, I'd be able to understand everything, get a higher view of everything.

But not like this.

No this...This desecrates that dream. Every meaning of it, destroyed. I wanted to help others to the victory, now I make my way to the top through killing, and survival. I rise dominant by treading on others, stomping them down and seating myself upon a throne built upon the mangled corpses of my adversaries, and my friends. Worst of all, it's a sturdy foundation. Not for the mentality, but for the pride and physical aspect. The survival. And it damn well have been a curse laid upon me specifically, that I would survive five hundred years after my 'death', which I do not remember anyway. Survival is so bittersweet. You live, somepony dies. A tragedy for a celebration. It's horrid.

Hm. A door lifting open quietly. My abductors have come. I have a very keen sense of hearing, the ones opening it probably didn't hear it and didn't think I would. I roll over, acting asleep. There's this thing I've learned to do in my time, ponies can't tell the difference between your eyes being opened and close if you're squinting. Of course, in return, you've impaired your vision by about 85%, but for the analytical type the small range of vision is enough. It's dark, and I'm in front of the only lit up area in the room. So I can have my eyes open a bit wider. They look like they're in bio-hazardous protection suits; that's the only way I can describe it. Once more, it looks all too sci-fi. They have a stretcher, and they're heading towards me.

Blast, I must have been correct. Should I fight or trick them? If I trick them, I can successfully analyze an escape route on the way their and utilize it and stay under suspicion, but they would know I lurked around finding my way back...That's valuable information as well. However, if I fight, I can take out these two guys, and run around and get the same effect. In both situations I could act like I was concerned and I could get the better of Twilight's trust. The more I know about this place, the better.

They're getting closer, I need to choose.

But what to pick?

I'm not tired anyway...might as well...

They roll the stretcher to me, and start to reach for me. I roll out of my bed pushing the stretcher over with a small crash. The sound distracts them as they look at it to make sure it's okay. Heh. I get up, tripping one of them. The other lunges at me. I begin to think more about the situation. What if Twilight is measuring my physical ability by this? What if she's trying to figure out how well I can fight? I can't throw her off now; I'm too caught in the moment. I step out of the way of the lunging attacker; the other one gets up. It looks like they're both taking a stance...bipedal.

Great, this will be harder than I thought. I haven't fought a lot of bipedal enemies, other than just one particular zombie and two raiders. They both throw a punch. I step out of the way of the first, grabbing the other and flipping him over into the first one. They both fall. I look for a weapon, there's a broken broomstick laying oddly in the corner. My enemies whip out some batons and come at me once more. I grab the broom stick and lower to a parry stance. The first one strikes, counter - damage - break defense - trip - execute. I use the broom stick to knock the baton out of my way, elbowing my attackers face. I then struck his hind leg with the stick, knocking him lower, and kicked the hind leg from under him. After that, I drove the stick into his neck, killing him. The blood sprayed onto my hoof, but it wasn't much until I pulled the stick away, letting it fountain freely from his neck.

The second one swung at me, counter - damage - damage - execute. I grab his hoof, head-butting him. I spin around and strike him in the head with the stick, before coming back around the other way and impaling his stomach. Only one problem, that doesn't kill him, he comes back and hits my foreleg. It sends me back a few feet. And it bucking hurt. He swings at my hind leg, I have to think fast, counter - damage - damage - execute. I swing the stick away from me, a movement in which sent him to spin and strike me from the other side. I get knocked into a cabinet. This guys gonna be harder than I expected, I'll have to think ahead. He swings again, counter - counter - damage - damage - damage - execute. I swing the baton out of the way with the broom, quickly tossing the stick to the other hoof and catching his hoof before he could land another hit. While doing so, I flowed into a swing from my left side and into the back of his head, spinning around I hit his stomach, and then again on his spine. He began to stumble around. Finally, I jabbed the stick through his eye, and tore it out. He finally died.

Gah.

Now to find out some stuff.

Dark. Really dark. Like, not pitch black, but somehow darker than it. Ironic, I guess. It's more metaphorical I suppose, the atmosphere is just so, for lack of better word, spooky. The laboratory is really cold in the night, the lights have been seemingly dimmed, and they're not radiating near as much heat as usual. Different color too, probably some second setting. The floor is freezing me, though. I'll have to find something to wear, maybe even some protection.

I look around me. There's a lot of glass walls slapped onto the floor guarding some tiny little laboratory desks and equip. Nothing too important, except one that's full of paper. I approach it. It seems the room just got darker and colder. I being to shuffle the papers, different project names. 'Flesh-Walker, Skin-Seeker, Limb-Runner, Hive-Minder.'

"Shit..." I say. I look under Flesh-Walker, 'Normal gene, unmutated, generic infantry.' Infantry?? They're monsters! Next to Skin-Seeker, 'Advanced infantry, naturally mutated gene, enhanced physical abilities and durability.' Limb-Runner, 'Heavy infantry, artificially mutated gene, enhanced strength and weight.' And then, an enemy I've known since the 1500's, the Hive-Minder, 'Dark Magic mutation, uncontrolled, unknown characteristics.' What the Hell. Did they know about this? Did they invent this?!

There's more, Head-Flyer, Dark-Walker, Wing-Trotter, etc. etc. All of them, except Hive-Minder and Dark-Walker are dubbed in the order (Target)-(Mobility). That means the Flesh-Walkers walk around and attack by tearing and biting off flesh...Skin-Seekers search for hosts and skin them alive...They...were planning to utilize this in war...this is so cruel. There's a difference in preforming a treacherous act when you have to, and when you don't! Do they not understand that?!

Hive-Minders are exactly what their name implies, they carry a Hive-Mind, controlling the zeds with intelligence. Dark-Walkers are intelligent and infected unicorns or alicorns, often confused for...

Living ponies...

What if Twilight is—

Suddenly, a door swings open, two Super-SWAT's are talking among each other, something about "Shitty Pay" and "Poor Conditions". I think it's time to hide. I duck and slide under a desk into another glass-walled cubby. The loud noise is masked by their conversation and the doors. I know they can break through the glass before I can, so I have to be careful. I wait for them to pass afar off, and try to look for an exit. I loop around, following them to see if I can find a way out. It looks like they're finding an exit.

They stop, that room their going in looks familiar. Oh. That's mine.

Whoops.

They look at each other.

"Buck, boss was right," the first said. "she's taken out the two assassins."

"Remind me again why they put them in Hazmat suits?" the second asked.

"Something about 'understanding her thought process.'" the first said. They both stopped.

"She's right behind us isn't she?" the second states. They both arm their weapons and swing around.

"Fire!"