//-------------------------------------------------------// A Derpy Apocalypse: Phantom Warrior -by Pin Point the Artist- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter One - The Second Coming //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter One - The Second Coming "He awake yet?" "I don't know, I'm not sure I want him to be." "What do you mean?" "Well, the last six times he woke up, someone was seriously injured or killed." "I heard he kept screaming too. "Yeah, I think everyone in the facility heard him scream. He was loud." "That must have worn his auditory transceivers." Chck~! "Shit, shit, he's waking up, call it in!" White. The room is white. Cold as well. I attempt to look up to view my surroundings, but I can't; I'm restrained. My vision is blurry and my head is numb. Confused...Yes...I am very confused. I don't remember waking up six other times, only once. I can ponder the possibilities, I think I can –– is it possible to think like this? Do I have the capability to think? To be sentient? Yes, I am thinking, I am contemplating, I am okay. I feel that it must be some sort of calibration system being tweaked. Do I even know what that is? I feel as if I am in a shell, a cold metal shell. Yet, I feel blood running through my veins. How can I be so calm? I don't understand anything that's happening around me. I don't even know if I am actually alive, or maybe I am just the remnant of a mind in a machine? Suddenly I question so much, but my sanity is safeguarded, somehow. I open my eyes. I look around, and I see the terrified people. "Would someone please tell me where I am?" I ask. What was that? My voice? It was so...dark, and unsettling. I sounded like the manifestation of imminent death. A dark, tri-synthesized modulation, to be exact. And my clothing, what am I wearing? Nothing, yet I see no flesh or fur. I am merely a synthetic metal exoskeleton, one that can think. Two of the people raise their guns when I speak to them, the other ones cringe when I look at them. The reflexes were all too curious. It seemed as if I was an enemy that they were forced to negotiate with. They must know I have power. All of them reacted with the same fear, except for one, she remained still. I note that two are anthropomorphic soldiers. Not very well-armed, minimum armor, minimum training. I don't even know why they're here, there's no way they could defeat me. Four others are technicians with long white lab coats. They look terrified. I attempt to sit up, but realize I'm restrained. I calmly lay back down, and turn my head. I didn't like it, but I wasn't going to be impolite. "Could someone please get me out? I'm claustrophobic," I say. They give each other confused looks. The last one, the one who didn't cringe, comes up to me. "Things are pretty strict around here, we'll get you out soon, but we need approval," she said. She looked at me. Her eyes were blue. "You can hang in there for a few moments, right buddy?" "Of...Course..." I uttered. I wasn't sure what to think about her, or the rest. The homo-equine blend smiled at me. She had thin glasses, black hair wrapped into a simple ponytail — ironically — and her coat..no..her skin was a peach color. Upon further observation, I notice she doesn't have a snout like the others did. She seems to be a full human blend, with the exception of her wings. "Good!" she said, "I'll be your supervisor for the time being, making sure you're correctly calibrated and all that. But for now, I'm going to go check up on the Big-Wigs and see if you're free yet, which you should be." With that, she ran off, picking up a clipboard and pen on her way. ~Analyzing Anatomical Makeup >> Homo-equine: Source - Anthropomorphisis Engine© TwiCore Industries - >> Morph amount: 96~% | Precise Estimation: 96.0000007 - >> Race: Pegasus | Wing Span: 7 Decameters | Magic Input/Output: 300 decamagi | Contained Magic: 7 kilomagi ~Analyzing Occupational Details >> Occupation: TwiCore Management Technician - >> Security Clearance: Level 4 out of 6 - >> Social Status: 'Kind, Caring, Mysterious' - >> ERR. REDACTED INFORMATION What? "What are you scanning me for?" she asks, with a smile. I looked at the bottom of my 'visor', I suppose it's called. Scan Time: Two hours. Upgrade recommended. Unfortunate. I look back at the mare. "Sorry, just getting used to the...abilities," I replied. She laughed, leaning close to my left auditory receiver – my ear. "My info is redacted, but don't tell anyone. I can trust you, right?" she said. I nodded. "Good." She got back up and pressed a button, releasing me from the restraints. I leaned up, taking a deep breath, except, I didn't breath. In fact, I wasn't breathing for the whole time I was awake. "I can't breath..." I said. The person looked back at me, laying her hand above my visor. "You don't have to breath, actually," she assured me. "Warriors don't need to breath. Still, though, it may take some getting used to." "Okay..." I uttered. I laid back down. She leaned over me again, making a seamless direct eye contact. "Don't get too comfy," she said, "We'll need to run some diagnostics on your physical abilities before you can rest, which you probably don't need anyway." I sat back up. "Is there anything I need to know?" I ask. She kept working, and replied without turning her head, "Question is, is there anything you want to know?" She continued to scan me with various devices, checking things on an electronic clipboard and clicking buttons on a large screen to my right. I thought for a moment about what I would want to know. I took a look around the place, there was a white ceiling, a white wall, and a white-tiled floor. There were also a few fluorescent lights with a circular shape buried in the ceiling lined with a silver moulding around it. The blandness of the room was a but unsettling, but what was most uncomfortable was the window along the wall, allowing everyone to see inside. I'm not sure why, but I didn't like people looking at me. I felt somewhat exposed to them. "Is it necessary that the windows be there?" I ask. She stops for a moment, giving me a confused look. Her expression, after a few moments, suddenly changed to that of an unanticipated ecstasy. "Ooh–Ooh–Ooh!" she said quickly, looking at me, "They can be turned off, try and turn them off!" I paused for a minute. "Pardon?" I say, confused at the fact that she wanted me to 'turn off' the windows. She stepped towards me and moved really close to my face. "Don't ask!" she whispers, "Just do it!" Her ecstasy now was becoming rather intimidating. Why is she so excited about my abilities? "Uh ... of course," I said slowly. I looked at the windows. Time to open that scanner again, I suppose. ~Scanning for computational units ~Located - >> Integrating System - - >> TwiCore ClearWalls © | Code #: 1a48b842md93104581d - - > On or Off? - - > Off Selected - - > Turning off Window Mode... Surprisingly, I was able to integrate my system with the nearby computer with ease. That could be useful later. I look back at the technician beside me. Her mouth is agape. I should have been able to see that window. I must be more observant. ~Command Set - >> Enhance observation Hm. Seems simple. "W...Wow-ha-ha!" she said, smiling brighter than the sun itself. Come to think of it, to look entirely like a human—but with wings only, she seems almost like an angel. I'm not sure how I even know what that is. She looks back at me. "You're probably the best thing that's happened to this facility — to me!" "What do you mean?" I ask. She spins around, grabbing a holographic tablet and showing it to me. "Look at those measurements!" she said, "I designed your programming, every bit of it! I made you new, and you came through exactly as expected! A success!" "But...did I not kill and injure others in the other six times I woke up?" I ask. Quickly I added, "Not that I remember those, I just heard the others talking about it." "Six days God worked, and on the seventh He rested," she said, "now, maybe you're not God — I'm sure you're not — but you are special, and if you haven't found it already as smart as you are, you know that." "But I killed six people," I argued, "I didn't work for them..." "Without blood," she answered, "there is no remission of sins." Somehow, what she said made sense. Was I built to think this? Was I built to understand it? Was I built to be a prophet? To show them the path? I was built to defeat the grave, and to make things good? This is all much for me, even I, a robot. Or maybe I'm not that, maybe I'm still human. What? Human? Why human? Why would I call my self a human? ...Maybe she wouldn't mind letting me rest... "That's a lot to think about," I replied, "for both of us, I'm sure." "Yes, but I have faith," she said, she leaned close to the auditory transceiver. "in you, in us, in purpose. We can make things better." Something about her voice was soothing, yet simultaneously upsetting. I have my mind, don't I? I'm in charge of what I do, right? ...right...? And God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and years: And let them be for lights in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth: and it was so. And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night: He made the stars also. And God set them in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth, And to rule over the day and over the night, and to divide the light from the darkness: and God saw that it was good. And the evening and the morning were the fourth day. //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter Two - Fight School //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter Two - Fight School The first was stomped the second one torn. The old one's actions furthered her scorn. Gray. Fuzzy and gray. As I'm being transported to the gymnasium for physical diagnostics, my vision is blurry and my color recognition is disabled. My technician –– my leader –– explained that it would keep everyone calm, given the fact that since I couldn't see color, my emotions wouldn't be triggered. I thought it was silly, and she did too, but still the science does make sense, and the people in this facility are unfortunate and naive. They are alone and scared. For this, I can forgive their actions and premonitory thoughts. "We're almost there, buddy," my leader said, "just hang tight." I didn't want to call her leader, it seemed as if I was diminishing her true personality. I wanted to call her by her name, or at least by her last name. I tried to ask and realized I couldn't speak. She looked down at me. "Sh, sh," she said, "I had to disable a lot for these weaklings, just so they don't try and kill us both. I promise you'll be able to speak when we're at the gym." I let out a single chck in response, she smiled, understanding my attempts at communication. I'm not sure if she was hinting at comedy, or if everyone would really try to kill us both. She must not be important if they'd kill her like that, or maybe it could be some sort of conspiracy? A few moments passed and she rolled the bed, or stretcher, through some double doors. I saw a brightly lit room with multiple steel crossbeams across the top. Looking over I could see bleachers and a bit of a basketball court. I didn't recognize it from equine sports, but I understood the concept in terms of human sports. I also saw multiple weights and exercising machines, and no one else was present. Looks like I'm not just jogging and jumping. Suddenly, I felt a weird sensation in my head. "Ahhhhaaaa...." I groaned, closing my eyes tight and suddenly seeing colors. "Oh—oh, are you alright?" she asked. "Ye...yeah," I muttered, "just a little woozy from the saturation change." She smiled, pressing a few buttons on the stretcher. I felt metal clamps being released from my forelegs and hind legs. Even though I hadn't noticed them before, it was still a relief to be free again. I tried to sit up but noticed I was still weak. "Careful now, prophet, you're still booting," she said, I'm not sure why she called me that, but I didn't say anything about it. "Let me help you." She put a hand on my back and lifted me up. She was very strong to do so, as I wasn't able to push myself up six inches before meeting my restrictions. As I set up, I could see multiple diagnostics running across my visor. Things like, "Physical Alignment Engine" and "Proprioceptive Responders". It was a bit distracting at first, but I used some sort of mental interface to shrink them to the lower right corner. "What is your name?" I ask. She stopped piddling around with whatever she was looking at and looked up. "Pardon?" she asked, giving me a baffled look. "What is your name?" I ask again, with a stern expression. She looks confused. "Have you not already established a name?" she asked me. I assume she was talking about 'Leader'. "Yes," I replied, "but I don't like it. I want your real name." She suddenly looked to the floor as if in a trance. I kept my stern look towards her. "You shouldn't have been able to assess that..." she muttered, her eyes looking dilated. This is odd. "Why?" I asked confusedly. "You're more sentient than I anticipated..." she said again. She closed her eyes and looked up at me, smiling. Not the happy, joyful smile she had given me so many times, but a sincere and humble smile. "You really are the one, aren't you?" "What...?" I muttered, "What do you mean, 'the one'?" "Time, time," she said, using a hand gesture to, seemingly, 'wave it off', "but first, let me introduce myself." She held out her hand, I supposed in the gesture of a handshake. She took my hoof — I think it is — and held it, saying, "Aviyah, my name is Aviyah," she said, "but here they call me Kristen, you should too, if we're amongst them. They don't need to know my real name." "Of course, Aviyah," I said, "My name is...uh..." What is it? "They call you Project Abaddon," Aviyah replied, "but I call you Prophet." "They see me as a weapon, you see me as a warrior?" I assumed. "Precisely," she replied, "except I'm right." She laughed for a brief moment before she patted me on the back. "Alright, you're booted. Let's start your diagnostics." "That's 500. Try 600," Aviyah says, tapping a pile of 300 pound weights with her foot. "My somatosensory receptors are in mid-optimal levels," I pointed out, "should we take a break?" "On 700," Aviyah replies, "that's when we take a break." "Of course," I muttered, attaching the two weights to the bar, which would have totaled up to 650 pounds. I lifted the weight with little effort, lowering and lifting it repeatedly ten times, and put it down. I could feel the pistons and artificial muscle tearing from the weight. "Good, you can sit down now," she said, "I think it's time to tell Twilight about our success." She smiled, walking out of the double doors from which we had arrived. I tried to lay back, but given my 'suit' being as blocky and annoying as it was, I couldn't rest comfortably. Surprisingly enough, I had a built in somatosensory cortex which allowed me to measure comfort like that. Of course, I could disable it in times of war. I decided to take a look at my internal computer to see if I could do anything else. There were multiple armor modes: war machine, reinforced armor, swiftness, cloak, disarmed and— What's this? TRUE Odd... "Looking at your codes, eh?" I hear a rusty male voice say. I exit the menu and stand up quickly. He backs away. "Whoa whoa whoa, friendly," he says. He's a dark blue stallion with short black hair and a dark grey goatee. He's wearing what looks like a demolition jacket. "Identify yourself," I stated frankly, not wanting to engage in much social interaction. He looked at me. "Or what?" he said. I don't think he's trying to make a good first impression. "Or you may no longer have business here," I replied quickly, "now, please, identify yourself." "Fine fine," he replied, "but first, I'd like to challenge you." What? "Pardon?" I ask. What was this equine trying to say? Was he really that stupid, or is there a catch? Surely I could beat him either way. "There's a catch, however," the equine stated. I kept staring at him, "you'll need to turn off all assistance, and turn on your somatosensory reflexes." "What's the point of them if I disable them?" I ask, confused. "You'll learn something," he replied with a grin. He stood on his hind legs in a battle stance, "ready when you are, son." I hesitantly disabled all armor, and battle assistance, and turned my somatosensory reception to 100%. I was almost stunned by what I could taste, hear, smell, and feel. Among all of that, I felt heat. Not cold metal, but warmth. It was odd, and definitely in contrast to my first awakening. I closed out all menus and stood up on my hind legs. "Alright." I said, putting my hooves up. The equine grinned. "Okay then, five...four..." he said. I clenched my hooves...if that's anatomically possible...and prepared for--- "one!" WhatHeJustSkippedTwoNumbersHow-- BWAP-BWAP-BWAP-BWAP-BWAP Before I know it, he's knocked me to the ground in five hits, and I'm aching all over. "What...You skipped three and two..." I muttered. He laughed. "Don't you know you're enemies don't play fair?" he asked, "Come on, get up." In frustration, I pulled myself up to face him once more. "I count this time," I said. He smiled. "Alright," he said. I looked at him dead in the eye, using my bare optics to analyze him. What did I know? I remembered some old training a while back --- before the time of my initial death, as I remembered it. "Five..." I said, squinting my eyes, "Four..." The tensity increases. "Three..." He steps one hindleg back. "Two..." We both get ready. "Six!" I shout, not moving. He looks at me confused. I then look to the door, closed and still. I then wave. "Hi Twilight!" He spun around to look, and as soon as he did, I darted towards him, sending four punches into his ribcage. I darted to the side and back to him, sending another punch towards him. Before I know it, he's ducked out of my view and I'm falling onto the floor. I realize he's tripped me, and I roll onto the floor and quickly spring myself back up. At an unnatural speed, he's charging me ready to deliver a nearly fatal blow to my head. This is when I decide to stop seeing it as a mere challenge. Will I impress Aviyah? Or will I fail? It's an easy choice. I swat his hoof out of the way sending him to the side. He spins around to hit me, and I catch his hoof again, headbutting him. He stumbles back before shaking his head to regain consciousness. I throw a punch at him, he evades it, throwing me over him. I roll onto the ground again, springing up quickly and lunging at him again. I could feel wind flowing through me as I delivered a hard blow to his chest. We both crashed into the ground, and both got up. We were about to go at it again when we heard a voice. "Seems like he knows how to fight, then?" It was Twilight, I just knew it. Within seconds, Aviyah walked in. "Ark, would you stop beating up my bot?" she asked, running over to me. "It was just a bit of practice, eh?" he said, getting up. I decided to get up as well, re-enabling all of my armor. I notice that Twilight seemed a bit impressed. "No tactical assistance?" she asked. "Y..yeah.." I muttered, rolling my shoulder to easy a bit of tension, "didn't feel good either." Twilight nodded in approval, looking at Aviyah. "I have to say, I didn't expect this, you did far more than exceptional this time, Kristen." Twilight said. Aviyah looked at me and smiled. "Thanks, Miss Sparkle," she said. "Call me Twilight," Twilight responded. Aviyah and Ark gave her a weird look. "What?" Aviyah asked. "What do you think, Kristen?" Twilight asked, "This kind of work deserves a promotion!" Aviyah almost screamed in excitement. "Really?!" Aviyah said, smiling brightly. Twilight patted her on the back. "Yes, come by my office tomorrow and I'll have your badge ready." It was about nighttime. I said in Aviyah's office. It looked more to me like a living area, but I wouldn't question anything. Aviyah soon walked into the office, closing the door and dropping a few papers on a nearby desk. She looked at me, ran up to me, and hugged me. "Thank you, Prophet," she said, hugging me tighter, "thank you." Then, out of nowhere, she kissed my forehead. "Oh," I uttered in surprise. "What, you felt that?" she asked. "Well, I never turned off my somatosensory receptors..." I said. She almost blushed. "Oh uh...Well I should be going to sleep. You should too...I guess," her voice trailed off. "Aviyah?" I say. She looked up at me. "Yes, Prophet?" "What are you ashamed of?" I ask. She looked down. "Project Abaddon command override. Switch form to true," she said. I looked down and saw my body shifting, things I thought couldn't move had moved, my whole body twisted and contorted, but I didn't feel it. "What's happening?" I ask. She says nothing. "Aviyah, what's going on!?" After a bit, I felt a little dizzy. I looked at my hoofs, they were starting to look like hands. I looked at a stream of console commands in my visor. ANTHROPOMORPHISIS ENGINE ACTIVATED 'True' was human. Human was the true form. I didn't understand. I saw skin growing over the metal parts and muscles. When the process was finished, I felt my face. A complex structure of bones, muscles, skin, and short brown hair on the top of my head. I could feel my ears, such an odd but intricate design. I looked at the rest of me. An unconcealed body of advanced structure, and nothing a human or equine of the highest intelligence could ever design on their own. "Everyone is human inside," Aviyah said. "Most equines don't realize it, but human is more than a bipedal mythological being. It's the very consciousness that lies in all of us sentient beings, the ones who developed society, and who prospered through invention and not instinct. This, your human form, is the real you. The one I modeled you off of was the original you. Before you died. You were beautiful. I wanted to restore that, because I wanted you back." Now I wasn't sure what was going on. Every time I think I've figured it out, it changes again. First I think I'm a message, then I think I'm a robot, then I think I'm a prophet, now I'm a part of a philosophical love story? I have to recalibrate. - - "Aviyah." I said. She looked at me. "This isn't just about reforming the world, is it?" "Miss Sparkle, please! Please I beg of you, anything, let me take him in! I can make him something greater for us!" "For the last time, Kristen, I'm not going to let one of my dead men be your fucking experimental toy." "Miss Sparkle, I promise you, you will not regret this, I'll put my life on it!" "Fine. But if this is a failure, then I'll let you meet with some Skin-Seekers face to face." "Of course...Miss Sparkle. Thank you." //-------------------------------------------------------// Prologue - The Breaking //-------------------------------------------------------// Prologue - The Breaking They both ran from the thing that had proved itself more powerful, but they couldn't run fast enough. Black. No, darker. It cannot be described. Not even a color. Not even visible, yet I see it. A void. A darkness that would diminish that of an unlit cavern. This color, this death...it is something I will always remember. And as I lay there in a realm of nothingness, I hear the words of people, people I never knew. And as the volume increased, I could feel myself revitalizing. I could feel my body coming back into form, but without heat. I felt blood of oil, and nerves of wire. I felt joints of rods and limbs of pistons -- in my neck,  my legs, my stomach. They were all twisting, and turning, and growing, and compressing. I could feel them tearing me apart, I could feel my skin ripping at the tension, I could feel my muscles shredding. I didn't feel any pain until I felt a prick in my neck. "AAAAHHHH!!!!! AH! AHHHAAAA AAAAHHH!!!!!" I feel pain and I hear my screams "Morphine! Morphine! I need more fucking morphine!" It's my fault... "We're out!" They're struggling... "THEN FUCKING HOLD HIM DOWN! HE'S ALREADY BEEN FUSED–I CAN'T–AH!" No... "Scalpel is down! Someone get an actual fucking Doctor in here!" They are fools! The chaos. The strife. The discomforting and overwhelming feeling of an unacknowledged and unexplainable resentment. A feeling they all had become anesthetized to. Benumbed to. A feeling some of them found alluring and even seductive. Those fools! Do they truly not understand? Do they not know? It troubles me. But alas, I can be their prophet. I can show them the path. But for now I must bow to their will. I must be their plaything, so that I may understand them, and I can show them power. My power.