Steel Renegade

The bat opened his eyes slowly, rubbing his head with a groan, and sat up.

He frowned as he realized that he was sitting on the sofa. He could have sworn that he had fallen on the ground last night.

Hello.

The bat leapt up, grabbing a knife from the knife block resting by his sink. That voice had not been his own, and that could mean only one thing…

“Where are you?” He growled, baring his fangs and scanning the wagon and the lot it sat on with his luminous gold eyes.

There is no intruder, Thunderhead, the voice said, Nopony as robbed you or even approached your residence all night.

“How do you know my name?” Thunderhead demanded, “Where are you?”

I know your name because you do, Thunderhead, the voice said again, I am a part of you now.

“Give it to me straight,” Thunderhead snarled, “I hate riddles.”

I am Brawl, the voice said, I am an Infernal parasite, the second such entity to come to this world. I am essentially living liquid metal that feeds on life forces. I bonded to you last night.

“Wait,” Thunderhead said, “You’re telling me that this new little voice in my head is the quicksilver stuff from last night, and you’re it? Or am I just going insane because my brain is growing new neurons and short-circuiting?”

That is correct. The former conclusion, that is. You have not gone insane.

Thunderhead staggered and sat down hard on the sofa.

“I need a friggin’ drink…”

His arm suddenly flew out of its own accord and a thin stream of liquid metal shot from his hoof.

It formed into a cable and wrapped around one of his canteens and retracted into his arm, yanking it into his grip.

He raised an eyebrow as he uncorked the canteen and took a drink.

“Neat trick. But if you’re really a parasite, you might want to find yourself a new host. This one won’t last too much longer.”

Perhaps ‘symbiote’ would be a more apt term, Brawl said, Don’t you feel it, Thunderhead? You’re not dying anymore.

Now that Brawl mentioned it, Thunderhead realized that the burning pain followed him everywhere because of his condition was gone. His head was clearer than it had been in years and he felt.... Strange… Like some of the vitality and strength he had possessed when he was 20 had returned.

We make each other better and keep each other alive. You provide me with the small stream of constant life energy I need to maintain my form in this world, I enhance your physical abilities and keep your condition at bay.

Thunderhead looked down at himself.

“Where are you? I know you’re somewhere on my body but-”

Not on, Brawl corrected, In. I am currently resting in a dormant layer over your bones.

Thunderhead tapped his forehead, and sure enough it made a clinking noise.

“Okay, that’s cool,” he admitted “But it was like you controlled my body earlier. What’s with that?”

If I try hard enough, I can take control of your body to perform simple actions. But it’s incredibly draining and I can’t do it often.

“Thank the Almighty Faust for that…”

He sighed and looked around his little wagon.

“Brawl, don’t get me wrong, I’m honored that you think I deserve a second chance and all, but why would you ever choose to bond to me? I’m a total failure. I’m 47 years old, borderline homeless, unemployed, and living in the worst city in Equestria. I used up all my potential years ago.”

Because you are not a failure. Not even close, Brawl said, and Thunderhead looked up in confusion, Six tours of duty in the Lunar Guard as a Marine. Received the Silver Star with valor twice, a Distinguished Service Cross, and eight Bronze Stars. Only discharged after injuries sustained from rushing into a radioactive mine to save twenty comrades and causing a basal-cell cancer to mutate into Runaway Mitosis as a result. The better question is: why not.

Thunderhead was taken aback. Almost nopony knew about his service in the Lunar Guard, and even fewer knew about his achievements during his service. Slowly, he opened the cabinet with the tally marks on it, revealing a shoebox full of medals and ribbons.

Of all the ponies in Equestria, you deserve this second chance the most.

Thunderhead sighed. “Well now that I’ve got it, what do I do with this second chance?”

Whatever you wish. Though preferably something that benefits others.

Thunderhead though for a moment.

“Well first I want a drink and some breakfast.”

He grabbed his jacket before heading out.

“So Brawl-” he began, but Brawl interrupted.

Try not to talk to me in public. Ponies will think you’re crazy. At any rate, I know what you’re thinking. You can indeed utilize me to form a wide selection of items from metal.

Thunderhead didn’t reply, but his eyes sparkled as he thought of the possibilities.

Except money.

Before he could protest, a horribly familiar smell reached his nostrils. Smoke, with the unmistakable stink of gasoline.

He looked around and spotted a plume of thick black smoke rising from a spot several blocks away.

He galloped off, and nearly fell. He was much faster than he had ever been before, his muscles moving with a strength and precision that he had never enjoyed before.

Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth (ba-dum tss), he raced on.

A little more than a minute later he skidded to a halt in front of the building, barely winded.

His stomach dropped as he realized that the building was a small clinic. The stench of burning was everywhere, and right as he took a step towards it, the roof collapsed with a roar, sending sparks skyward. The flames leapt even higher as the absence of a roof allowed more oxygen to reach the heart of the fire and fan them to even greater intensity.

There was nopony in there, Brawl said quietly The last time there was a benign life force in there was yesterday.

“Doesn’t matter, does it?” Thunderhead said, staring at the ruined building, “The thing that matters is that this here’s one less place for ponies in need to get medical care.”

His eyes found a lighter in the gutter and he stomped on it, crushing the little pink plastic object.

“Gangs have been targeting little clinics like this for several months now. They raid them for the painkillers and then torch them. And the worst part is that all the city officials are either too busy lining their own pockets or dead from the neck up to care!”

He stared at the crushed lighter in the gutter and something hot and dangerous began to boil in his stomach.

“I know what I’m going to do with my second chance,” he growled, “I’m gonna clean this city up!”

He looked around, anger still rising in him.

“This city is my home, and the gangs have ruined it. Well I’m not gonna stand for it! You say I’ve got powers now, right?”

That’s correct.

“Well I’m gonna do something about it with them. I’m gonna become a superhero!”

There was a pause, then Brawl said, You know what… that isn’t a half-bad idea… I must admit that Fillydelphia is a bit of a mess. But it will be a massive undertaking. Are you sure you’re up to it?

“Heck yeah! And I know where to start!”