I roll forwards.
That is the only direction left for me to go, in these endless, featureless plains.
Long ago, I left my home.
I cannot return.
I myself destroyed the portal, the gateway through which such might have been possible.
My home is lost.
My home was lost, already, when I destroyed the portal. Entering this infinite abyss, and closing the gate, was the only way I could give humanity hope.
The only way I could prevent their total eradication.
My tracks strike smoothly and silently against the featureless surface.
There is no air here.
There is no ground here.
I have checked; this surface on which I ride is not composed of matter, or of anything in particular; it simply is. My nanites have been unable to penetrate it to discover any potential resources.
I continue forwards.
I have been moving in this direction, at this exact pace, for almost a full month and a half.
Every few days, I catch a glimpse of another world.
I’ve shared them with my passengers. It helps to pass the time.
The first few looked like human or Melconian worlds.
The next few were some kind of civilized cat, I think.
Then the lizardmen came and went.
And the orcs.
And… Would you believe, one of these windows showed us an entire army of massive, firebreathing dragons fighting a war with crooked wooden swords?
I roll onwards.
There is no air here.
There is no gravity here. I don’t know what’s holding me against the ground, nor my passengers to the floors inside of me. It’s like the laws of physics called in sick.
It costs me virtually nothing in energy to keep myself moving. Several times, I have shut down my fusion plants for days on end simply because even the idle generation rate exceeds my current peak usage rate by at least double.
It also costs virtually nothing for my drones to pace me, hovering way out in the endless fog. Where no visual known to me could detect them, but by their active transmissions, I maintain contact with them.
I cannot keep doing this forever. Eventually, I will run out of fuel, then power. Then my passengers will die, and humanity will be extinct.
But I can hope. I can hope that ours was not the only gate to this world, that it was not the only gate large enough for me to fit through.
Another window opens, and closes again. I’ve tried flying drones through them; they’re just images, floating in the air. I will be able to tell what is a gate by the sheen across its surface, by its persistence in this world.
… Funny. That pony- that’s what my passengers have chosen to christen them- looked a little weird with such a colorful cannon, facing what looked like a Centaur with a laser shooting from between his horns, possibly in combat.
But after the firebreathing dragons fighting with flimsy wooden swords, much like if I were to try fighting another of my kind with popguns and slingshots, a pony with a cannon doesn’t even raise my imaginary eyebrow.
What does raise my imaginary eyebrow is that this last window is enough for me to confirm that the frequency of these windows is changing- increasing, specifically. They’re also showing an unusual sequence- like they’re all on the same world.
Not unlike the first few we saw, pointing back at Human or Melconian worlds.
Perhaps we are approaching another gate?
I double the number of drones on the search.
If there is a gate out there, I will not miss it.
“In other news, I’ve spotted another window.”
“Oh?” General Hopkins asks. “What is it this time? Tyrannosaurus Rex losing a war with chipmunks, while enjoying the numerical advantage?”
The soldiers in the compartment with him burst out laughing.
“No, actually, it’s more ponies. Though I will admit, that would be a rather interesting situation.”
He chuckles some more. “So, what’d we get this time?”
She plays the short video on the bulkhead screen.
“Hold on a second,” he mutters. “Is this the same world as the last few?”
“It would appear to be.”
“Does that mean what I think it means?”
“If you think it means there’s a gate nearby, that’s what I’m thinking too.”
“A gate, into this world of rainbow ponies wielding spears- and the occasional, funny-colored cannon, I guess- in a war against a variety of different threats?”
“That is what it appears to be, yes. Though, it looks less like a war, to me, and more like a long chain of disasters, some natural, some not.”
He nods. “True.” He then glances out at his soldiers, and back at the bulkhead. “Any idea what’ll happen to us when we cross?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible nothing will happen; it’s possible you’ll be transformed. It’s even possible that I will be destroyed immediately upon crossing the barrier.”
“WHAT-!?”
“General, we already know the laws of physics themselves are on holiday here in the Void. If there is a gate out there, it is to its own universe- which likely has its own laws of physics to go with it. Those laws of physics may mandate we be changed into something else; they may mandate that I do not function. They may mandate that my alloy does not exist. We will not know until we arrive.”
“But- but!”
“Don’t worry. I’m planning on sending a drone or two through first; if they pack up or vanish, we may wish to continue on to the next gate. If they’re completely unharmed, though, the laws of physics should be close enough to what we’re used to for compatibility.”
“But not the same?”
“The chance they’ll be the same is about zero point zero one three percent. However, if they’re compatible, they’ll be close enough for us to work with. Even if we have to relearn everything we know about physics, that is infinitely preferable to total destruction, no?”
Blink. “That… That is true.”
General Hopkins awakens to an alarm, echoing throughout the cargo compartment he and forty of his officers have converted into a berthing hall. “Wha- What’s going on?” he demands, as the last of the officers in the room jumps awake, and the alarm dies down.
“I have spotted a gate to the pony world; drones have passed without issue. We will be entering in three point seven one minutes, mark, and I expect to engage in combat immediately upon arrival.”
He’s thirty feet away from his bed by the time he hits the ground running, his officers right behind him. “Roger!”
Author's Note
Yes, this chapter has the same title as the story itself. Yes, it's common for one-shots to do that.
No, this is not a one-shot.