Friendship is Optimal: Genocide is less so.

by FirethatSevers

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark, Alternate Universe, Human, Sad, Horror
Length: 436

An argument against emigration, in seven parts

Set in the Optimalverse
There's an argument against emigration that gets a passing mention sometimes, but is rarely given what I feel is sufficient weight - So this is me trying to remedy that!

May be mildly insulting to both Bronies and Mormons - it's intended to be a negative reflection on the character, not on either of those groups. Rated teen for language, because I swear like a sailor.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-03-31 05:51:09 UTC

Part 1: Agreeing terms

So long, and thanks for all the fish

(The final message  from the dolphins, Douglas Adams' "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy"

When Ted heard the Turing test had been smashed by, of all things, a talking pony, he was amused but not much more. When his normally stable (no pun intended) friends starting spending more and more time talking to their little ponies, he started to draw some worrying conclusions, and went back to the gym. And when she started offering uploads, it was time to put his plans into motion - hard copies of useful schematics, his own weight in seeds, and a crank generator put together at the local makerspace. He could see how this was going to end, from the first time he heard the Princess state her function in an interview: "To satisfy human values with Friendship and Ponies", smile whinny cute. He almost wished he could hate her, but he knew she meant it. He didn't like cameras anyway, and Snowden had made him aware  of how surveilled he could be, so he tried to slip beneath her notice - and when uploading came to the UK, he quietly encouraged his friends and family to take the leap.

They didn't need to see what the world was going to become.

The first time he exchanged words with the Celestia was when he escorted his father and stepmother to the Equestria Experience Centre - he didn't know if it was deliberate, but he found it bleakly amusing that when she shut down the human race's future, she'd put her chairs on the future site of the Golden Throne. He'd watched the chairs slide away with a half-smile, the tears threatening for a moment before he forced them down and composed his face. There was no-one left for him to worry about, now - no-one depending on him, no-one he had to look out for, no-one he had to put above himself. The manic energy surged at the thought, pushing aside the childish voice wailing that he was never going to see his Dad again. She had him, and he was going to be satisfied.

As he walked out again, Celestia's face filled the screen in the waiting area.

"You do know you can't avoid talking to me forever, don't you Theodore?"

"I can try."

"Or, you could save yourself a lot of time and pain by emigrating now."

She fluffed her wings and cocked her head to the side before continuing.

"After all, your fear suggests we both know I could talk you into it."

He kept walking.