The RED Cataclysm

Chapter Eight: Magic : Music :: Music : Me

I sigh and lean back in my throne a little. “And he kept running around Ponyville for a while,” I continue. “He got more than a few strange looks, I can tell you that much. But really, aside from that, nothing much actually—”

Suddenly, all the monitors give off a blinding white light, and the sound of an explosion bursts through the room. I throw my arm over my eyes and rear back instinctively, crying out in shock and mild pain. My throne topples over backwards and slams into the ground with a tremendous thud. I roll backwards once before skidding to a slow stop.

Over the echo of my throne slamming into the ground, I could swear I hear Helen saying “Oh, what have you done this time?”

“Good evening, Mr. Discord. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” asks an unfamiliar voice.

My eyes open on their own. There’s a human standing above me. How did that happen? And why is there a light floating above his head?

I get to my feet again, rolling my eyes. “Doesn’t anypony on this planet know how to knock?” I grumble.

The human chuckles and nods. “I apologize for the intrusion, sir. I assure you, this will only take a moment.”

I look the human over quickly. He’s obviously a he. That’s so much easier to tell with humans, for some reason. Is that weird? He’s tall and thin, his skin is pale, his gloved hands are pressed together. His brown, bushy hair hangs behind his back, and his face is decidedly thin-looking. He’s clad in a fancy-looking white dinner suit, a pair of suspiciously large white wings sprout from his back, and what I’d originally thought was just a really bright light above his head is actually a glowing ring. There’s also a pin on his lapel in the shape of a gleaming golden cross. Weird… I feel like I should know this guy from somewhere…

The man reaches into his breast pocket and plucks out a tiny, laminated paper rectangle. “Greetings,” he says. “My name is Michael. Here’s my card.”

I take the card from him and read it. Huh… weird. All that’s on it is a picture of a fish. Oh well. I toss the card behind me randomly. “What do you want?” I ask him.

“I represent the progenitors and divine overseers of the human race,” he tells me.

My eyebrow goes up. “Oh, really?” I reply, trying to sound disinterested. “How’s that been going?”

“Not well,” Michael replies. “Which brings me to why I’ve come to you, Mr. Discord.” He reaches into his coat and pulls out a basic-looking manila file folder. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in accepting a position with Creation, Inc.” My eyebrow shoots up. “I have some information for you here. Please, give it a read. We think you could be a wonderful asset to our corporation.”

“…O…kay…” I reply. I can only imagine what the look on my face must be right now. Oh, well. I snap my fingers, and suddenly I’m wearing a suit of my own. It looks like Michael’s, except mine’s purple. And it’s got a pin with Helen’s cutie mark on it instead of a cross. I quickly snatch the folder out of Michael’s hand and tuck it into my coat. “I’ll give it some thought,” I tell him.

“Very well,” Michael replies, pressing his hands together and bowing respectfully. I like this guy. “I shall return shortly for your decision. Peace be with you.” There’s a blinding white flash of light, and Michael vanishes in a puff of gunsmoke.

“Hm. What was that all about?” I remark, waving my arm and righting my throne. I jump into the air once and flap my wings, landing in my throne.

“What are you up to now?” Helen groans.

“Who, me?” I ask, glancing over to her. Her hoof is on her face, and she looks pretty fed up. “I didn’t ask that guy to come in. I don’t even know who he is.”

“Oh, Lord,” Helen groans. “Fine, then, keep your secrets. Get back to your ludicrous story.”

“Okay, if you say so,” I say, clicking my tongue. I shake my head, trying to cast Michael out of my mind. “So, where were we? I think I’m done with the Medic, so… let’s skip to the Engineer now.”

I’m gonna be honest. It’s just as well that we saved the Engineer for last… because what happened to him is the least interesting out of the three. He was actually being responsible with his time. Imagine that, right? By following Twilight’s instructions, he was eventually able to find his way to Carousel Boutique. He was fairly surprised that the building was shaped like a big, giant merry-go-round, but he probably shouldn’t have been. I mean, it’s right there in the name, after all.

He took a deep relaxed breath, pushed the door open and entered. He almost immediately saw a room that just screamed dressmaker’s shop. There was a basic-looking wooden stage with some mirrors around it off to one side, mannequins were scattered around the room in various stages of undress, there was what looked like a dressing room by the stage, there was a big red curtain off on the other side of the room… all the staples. Even more telling, a small bell signalled his entrance into the building. I’m pretty sure all small, privately owned businesses have to have bells. It’s some kind of law.

“…then you could have simply said so,” said a sophisticated-sounding voice from outside the room.

“Oh, come on, Rarity!” said the distant voice of Pinkie Pie. “You’ve gotta come! It’s gonna be amazing! I’m calling in tons of favors for this one! I even got Vinyl in on it!”

At this point, a white unicorn with a wavy purple mane that screamed “I’m more into high society than you are” sashayed into the room, closely followed by a bouncing baby Pinkie, still wearing the basket on her head. It didn’t look like anypony had taken an invitation out. “No, I’m sure the party will be excellent,” the unicorn assured her friend. “and I have every intention of attending. All I’m saying is it wasn’t necessary to throw the party under false pretenses.”

Smirking, the Engineer cleared his throat. “I’m not interruptin’ anything, am I?”

Rarity looked up at the door and did a hilarious double take. You know that look that says “How in Tartarus did I get here?” That was basically the look on her face.

The Engineer chuckled. Now that he was alone, he could have some fun with this. and gave the two ponies a hand signal. You know, the one where he makes a V with his fingers and holds his thumb parallel to the ground? I’m sure that’s significant somehow. “Hello, alien life-forms,” he said calmly. “I am from Earth-VC8-Prime. I come in peace.”

The ensuing silence lasted for precisely thirty three-point-seven two seconds. I know. I counted. Eventually, she took a deep breath and turned back to Pinkie. “Well, then. It seems I owe you an apology.”

Pinkie Pie, of course, burst out laughing. “Wow, you’re pretty good at that, Engineer!” she giggled.

The Engineer sighed and shook his head, a faint smile on his face. “I oughta be,” he chuckled. “I’ve made first contact more times’n the Shifturian Empire.”

“I bet you have!” Pinkie giggled, bouncing toward the door. “Well, you two crazy kids play nice! I’ve got lots more invitations to deliver!”

“Live long an’ prosper!” the Engineer said as she hopped past him. It’s the little things like that that make first contact fun.

Anyway, after she left the room, Rarity shook her head and cleared her throat. “…W-Welcome to Carousel Boutique,” she said, “where everything is chic, unique and magnifique. …And, may I say… er, welcome to our… humble plane of existence.”

“Oh no, not plane of existence,” the Engineer replied. “I don’t do interplanar travel. Not since Earth-ATG2-Prime.” He let out a tiny shudder. “Lemme tell ya, that was a Class-5 pain in the ass. An’ all I got from it was a damn pin… But the point is, I’m from an alternate universe, not an alternate plane.”

Rarity blinked. “I… wasn’t aware there was a difference.”

“Well, it’s all semantics,” the Engineer conceded, shrugging. “I mean, even Doc Quad called planes ‘dimensions.’ That got confusin’ pretty quick. But I digress. I heard you were a tailor. I was hopin’ ya could do me a favor…”

Rarity blinked again. “…I… yes, I am,” she said, shaking her head. “How can I help you, sir?”

“Well,” the Engineer said, stepping forward, “I have this friend, the Pyro. Pinkie mighta told ya ‘bout ‘im? Well, ‘e wears a hat…” The Engineer reached into his satchel and retrieved the two halves of the broken Handyman’s Handle. “…an’ it got broken earlier t’day. I was hopin’ ya could do somethin’ t’ fix it?”

Rarity looked down at the hat and stared at it for a few long moments. “…That is a toilet plunger,” she observed.

“Oh, y’mean ya have toilets ‘ere?” the Engineer replied, taking a knee so he could look Rarity in the eye. He put his hand on his chest and let out a deep breath. “That’s a relief. Ya wouldn’t believe how many universes out there don’t have modern plumbin’.”

“That,” Rarity said again, “is a toilet plunger.”

“Yeah, it is,” the Engineer confirmed.

“And your colleague wears this… on his head?” Rarity asked.

“Heck yes,” the Engineer answered. “So can ya fix it? I bought it for ‘im as a gift in ‘71, an’ he’s real attached to it.” He chuckled softly. “Pun intended.”

Rarity looked at the toilet plunger for a few moments, then eventually took a long, deep breath. “Only in an alternate reality,” she said under her breath.

“Universe,” the Engineer corrected.

Rarity flinched. “Ahem. I-If you say so,” she replied. “This is not exactly my area of expertise, me being a seamstress… but I could certainly repair it.”

“Much obliged, Miss Rarity,” the Engineer replied, tipping his hard hat.

Rarity’s horn activated, glowing a rich blue. The Engineer let go of the two halves of the hat as they slowly floated away from him. Rarity swiveled them around in midair so that they were facing each other. A white ball of light appeared between them, and she fitted them together with a surprisingly loud snap. When the light faded away, the shaft of the hat was fitted together again, with only a few missing chips of wood to indicate where it had snapped.

“There you are, then,” Rarity said softly, levitating the hat back over to the Engineer. “That should be… good to go.”

“Much obliged,” the Engineer said through a cheery smile, tucking the hat back away into a pocket that was too small to hold it. “How much do I…” Suddenly, his smile faded, and he cringed awkwardly. “…oh… Uh… I don’t actually… have any money. In fact, I… don’t even know what the system a’ currency in this world is. …Assumin’ ya have one… Uh… is there anythin’ I could do for ya t’ pay this off? I’m real good with machines…”

“Oh, you needn’t worry about payment,” Rarity replied, donning a surprisingly cheery smile. “It’s just a simple patch job. It would be the least I can do for you. Though if you don’t mind me saying, it is… downright odd. What kind of fashion statement does that even send?”

“‘I ain’t right in the head,’” the Engineer answered.

Rarity blinked. “I… appreciate your honesty.”

The Engineer snorted. “No, I mean the Pyro’s not right in the head,” he clarified. “At least, when ‘e’s off ‘is meds, ‘e is. But you don’t hafta—” Suddenly, the Engineer was interrupted by a long, protracted series of hacking coughs.

“A-Are you all right?” Rarity asked, leaning back slightly. The Engineer couldn’t respond at first, because he was still coughing. After a few minutes, though, he finally managed to regulate his breathing again.

“Ahem… I’m fine,” he sighed. “Why’n the hell’d I take three pills? Short-term gain, long-term loss,” he added under his breath.

Rarity leaned back a little. “You’re on medication?” she repeated.

“Anti-anxiety,” the Engineer clarified. “I’ve had a pretty rough life, an’ I’m contractually obligated t’ leave it at that.”

“Uh— Very well then,” Rarity responded. “I didn’t intend to press the issue.”

“Y’know, I hafta say,” the Engineer remarked, tilting his head to the side, “all things considered, you’re takin’ this pretty well.”

Rarity chuckled softly. “I’m fairly certain it just hasn’t sunk in yet.”

“Fair enough,” the Engineer replied. “Incidentally, since I’m here, I don’t s’pose ya know a place my team an’ I could sleep tonight?”

“Oh… well, I would offer,” Rarity responded, tilting her head slightly, “but my parents return from vacation tomorrow, and the guest room is no longer available. You might go find Applejack at Sweet Apple Acres, though.”

“Well, that sounds nice,” the Engineer observed. “How do I get there?” Rarity told him. “All righty then. Well, if there’s nothin’ else, I’ll take my leave. Nice meetin’ ya, Miss Rarity.”

“Likewise,” Rarity replied. And then the Engineer left without another word. Rarity just stared after him for a few moments, blinked, and only then realized she’d forgotten to ask what the hay was going on.

And so the Engineer walked over to Sweet Apple Acres. You get three guesses what Sweet Apple Acres is.

An apple orchard.

You’re not going to make a hilariously incorrect guess? That’s no fun!

Oh, just get on with your story.

You’re the boss, boss! So, Sweet Apple Acres. It’s actually a farm, with a white picket fence and a big red barn and everything. But yes, there is an apple orchard on the property, so you weren’t wrong. Anyway, the Engineer walked up to the farmhouse, because there’s a farmhouse too, and… uh… oh, shoot, what happened next?

You don’t remember?

Not really, no. I was paying attention to the Medic’s research here. I need to keep up with history. I’ve been in stone for over a millenium. One thousand and twenty seven years, specifically. The point is, I… missed a few parts of the Engineer’s story. I think he wandered around the apple orchard for a while. It made sense to him; it was a farm, so the workers would be out working the fields first thing in the morning. I don’t have most of the details there…

Then you’ve failed as a storyteller. You’ve failed, Discord. You may as well leave now.

But if I left now, I wouldn’t be able to tell you that the Engineer was incapacitated by three little girls with a stolen flash gun!

…What?

That’s what I thought you were going to say! But yeah, it’s what happened. Eventually, he thought to check the farmhouse, and he must’ve tried to enter or something, because the next thing I know, he’d ripped off his goggles and was writhing around on the ground and covering his eyes screaming “MY EYES! MY EYES!”

“Oh my gosh, a-are you okay?” somepony blurted out.

“Ow ow ow, it stings, it stings!” the Engineer replied.

The door burst open at that point. “What’ve ya done?!” somepony else, decidedly older-sounding, blurted out.

“W-We didn’t mean t’ do it!” replied a third, much younger voice.

By this point, the Engineer’s eyesight had fully returned. “Okay, I’m better!” he said, removing his hands from his face and snapping his goggles back on. “It’s okay, everyone. I’m all right now!”

Now that the Engineer got a good look at his surroundings, he saw some pretty odd things. First of all, there was an orange mare standing on the porch with a blonde mane and a brown cowboy hat—the last of my six Ponyville nemeses. That wasn’t that strange, though. What was strange were the fillies that the orange pony was glaring at. There were three of them: a yellow earth filly, a white unicorn, and an orange pegasus. All three of them wore dark sunglasses that were several sizes too big for them, and the yellow filly had a familiar-looking silver cylinder in her mouth.

The orange pony looked over to the Engineer. “Are ya okay?” she asked through a heavy and unsurprising Southern drawl.

“I’m fine,” the Engineer replied, tipping his hard hat. “It just took me by surprise, is all.”

“Well, good,” the orange pony replied, turning back to the fillies. “You three should be ashamed a’ yourselves, sneakin’ up on somepony like that!” She then pointed to the silver cylinder in the yellow filly’s mouth. “An’ stealin’, too? I’m ashamed a’ you!”

“We were gonna give it right back t’ Dr. Turner once we were done!” the earth filly said defensively in a similar drawl, dropping the cylinder as she spoke.

“But ya shouldn’ta taken it from ‘im!” the orange pony snapped. “An’ ya shouldn’ta used it on him! Didn’cha hear Pinkie? He’s an ambassador from another universe! Yer not makin’ a good first impression ‘ere!”

The three fillies lowered their heads in shame. “W-We’re sorry… We jus’ wanted t’ try an’ get our mares in black cutie marks…” the yellow filly whined.

The Engineer chuckled softly. “Oh, don’t be so hard on ‘em, ma’am,” he said. “They’re just kids. Let ‘em have their fun.”

And… well, blah blah blah, a long discussion about why the Engineer didn’t hold it against them. Names were revealed during that discussion, but apart from that, nothing really interesting happened. Who cares?

Well… if you don’t deem it relevant, then I suppose—

Okay, skipping over that, then. The unicorn was sent back to Carousel Boutique, and the pegasus was just sent home. I don’t actually know where she lives… Anyway, the earth filly—whose name, the Engineer learned, was Applebloom—was sent to her room. And what did that leave? Well, the Engineer and Applejack was what it left. Because that’s what the orange mare’s name is. It’s Applejack.

What an original name for an apple farmer.

Hush, you. Anyway… “I’m rightly sorry ‘bout all that, Engineer,” Applejack told the Engineer, tucking Dr. Turner’s flash gun behind her ear. “My sisters’re real fixed on gettin’ their cutie marks…”

The Engineer blinked. “What’s a cutie mark, ma’am?” he asked. And then Applejack explained it to him. I’ll spare you the explanation, since you already know what a cutie mark is. What you may not know is that ponies are born without their cutie marks; they have to earn them by discovering their special talents. Hence, the three blank-flanked fillies banded together to discover their purpose in life, forming a group called the Cutie Mark Crusaders. That’s the short version.

How disgustingly saccharine.

I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. “I see,” the Engineer replied. “Well, I’m sorry for causin’ ya so much trouble this early in the mornin’, Miss Applejack,” he said.

Applejack blinked. “Ya don’t hafta call me Miss Applejack,” she told him. “Jus’ Applejack is fine.”

“Noted, Applejack,” the Engineer replied, nodding politely. “I hate t’ get straight t’ the point, but I was wonderin’ if ya’d be willin’ t’ do me a favor. Can we…” The Engineer coughed loudly. “Can we discuss it inside?”

“Uh, sure, I guess,” Applejack replied, blinking. “C’mon in.”

“Much obliged,” the Engineer replied. And with that, the two of them stepped into the farmhouse.

The farmhouse itself was a simple affair; orange walls, wooden floors, some furniture scattered about the place… you know, nothing unusual, nothing too fancy. The thing that was unusual, though, was a green mare who was elderly even to the casual observer, reclining in a blue chair on the edge of the room, sleeping softly. Next to her, an old-timey gramophone had been set up, and it was playing a very familiar-sounding song.

Which Sanctioned Song would that be?

Who said it was sanctioned? I think it went a little something like this… “If you believe in magic, come along with me. / We’ll dance until morning, just you and me…”

“Well, this ‘ere’s the farmhouse,” Applejack said, sounding only a little nervous. “That’s Granny Smith over there, an’… uh, you okay?”

The Engineer wasn’t okay. He’d frozen up the moment he’d heard the song. His teeth were gritted, his legs were tensed, his breathing was slowly becoming heavier. “…Uh… wouldja mind turnin’ that music off?” he asked.

“Sure thing,” Applejack replied, trotting briskly across the room.

“And maybe, if the music is right / I’ll meet you tomorrow, sorta late at night,” sang the gramophone. “And we’ll go dancing, filly, then you’ll see—” The needle was lifted off the record and put aside quickly. “There ya go, Engineer,” Applejack said, turning back around. “Now, what can I do for ya?”

Well, of course, I wasn’t about to let a golden opportunity like that slip by, so I kept singing the song—but this time, in an imitation of the Engineer’s voice. “How the magic’s in the music an’ the music’s in me, yeaaah… / Do you believe in magic? Yeaaah…”

The Engineer started hyperventilating, a look of absolute terror on his face, as he fell to his knees and clapped his hands over his ears. Applejack tried to match his look of panic, and trotted briskly back over to him. “A-Are you okay?” she asked.

“Believe in the magic of a young mare’s soul…” The Engineer’s spine bent forward, twisting him into a ball. “Believe in the magic of rock and roll…” The Engineer bit his tongue to keep himself from screaming. “Believe in the magic, it can set you free… / Ohhh, talkin’ ‘bout the magic…”

And just like that, with the echoes of “Do you believe like I believe?” bounding freely through his mind, the Engineer slipped into the world of his own subconscious—the traumatic, tragic world of Incident Zero-Six. It was one hell of a thing to see, lemme tell you. I’m not gonna lie to you, it wasn’t easy to keep him going with that, medicated as he was. If my reflexes weren’t as good as they were, he might not’ve gotten as far as he did.

Okay, I know you already know everything that happened in Incident 06. But this was the most I’d heard of most of it, so it was a brand new world for me. I know it’s just redundant for you, but I want to go through some of the highlights anyway. I’ll make it quick, I promise.

“Final sequence, ladies an’ gents. Let’s get this puppy booted up.”

“Do you believe in magic in a young girl’s heart? / How the music can free her whenever it starts…”

“…Arcane levels increasin’ within acceptable limits…”

“Well, this is it, Nick. Ya think it’s gonna work?”

“A’ course. Why wouldn’t it?”

“I’m still worried about the inherent contradiction in its design. I mean, it’s the logical extension of our theory, but… well, it’s a damn superweapon. Honestly? I don’t have a damn clue if it’s gonna work.”

“Well, if it works, it works. If it doesn’t, the worst that happens is we lose power for a few hours, an’ then the government lets us go, right?”

“…Ya always were the sensible one, Nick.”

“And we’ll go dancing, baby, then you’ll s—” BANG! DEATH SCREAM!

“Zhe magic’s in zhe music, and zhe music’s in me, gentlemen!”

“Oh, my GOD! SECURITY! Alan, stop the test! Stop the test!”

“…It’s not— It’s not shuttin’ down! It’s not—” And I think you know the rest.

Ooh, here’s one of my favorite parts…“Hahahahaha… Hahahahahahahaha… Kill me…”

“How long…?”

“You were unconscious for three weeks. Your brother is… alive, but in a similar condition to yourself.”

“…Can’t… feel… arm…”

“Have you tried looking at it?”

“…Cyborg…?”

“It was the only way to save your life.”

“Bearers…?”

“I’m afraid none of them survived, Doctor.”

“No…”

“However, we found evidence to suggest that… you were involved with one of their deaths.”

“…Mercy kill…”

“We beg to differ, Doctor. We found evidence to suggest that Honesty likely could have survived.”

“No… had to… He asked…”

“I’m not here to argue that point, Doctor Conagher. I will be honest with you, however. This whole operation has been a complete mess. I’m afraid the only option left at this point is to wipe our hands of it… and, unfortunately, of you.”

“Hear me, you obsolete pile of flesh and metal! You love me… You adore me… You vant to name all your children after me…”

“I love ya… I adore ya… I wanna name all my children after ya…”

“Have no fear, citizen. You’re safe now.”

“…What’n the…?”

“There’s no time to explain now. Do you know where the doctor is?”

“Doctor…? Who…? What…?”

“Hm hm hm hm hm… Vell, vell. I vas vonderink ven my little dog and pony show vould attract… executive attention.”

“Ah-HA! Your days of villainy are over, Doctor! You’re under arrest!”

“You’ll never take me alive, Herr President!”

“Bailiff! Remove him from my courtroom!”

“YOOOU! IF YOU’RE STILL ALIVE BY THE TIME I GET OUTTA JAIL, I SWEAR T’ GOD, I’LL RIP YOUR HEART OUT AN’ CRAM IT DOWN YER THROAT! THIS AIN’T OVER, YA SON OF A BITCH! YOU HEAR ME, SPEKTRA?!”

“IT AIN’T OVER ‘TIL ONE OF US IS DEAD!”

The Engineer was still trapped in the world of I06 when he screamed those words. He didn’t realize he’d shouted them, nor did he realize he’d pulled out his shotgun. So naturally, leaping out in front of him was not the best idea. But that didn’t stop Pinkie, who jumped out of nowhere and shouted “NO GUNS!”

The Engineer pulled the trigger reflexively. A bang rang out through the farmhouse, followed by two terrified screams. The next thing the Engineer knew, his shotgun was yanked out of his hands and a wrecking ball hit him square in the crotch. Fortunately, the kick brought the Engineer back to his senses. Unfortunately… well, I think you can guess. Clutching at his groin, he stumbled blindly backwards and slammed into the door. Let me see, how did his response go… I think it was something along the lines of “UOOOOOOAAAAAAAH!” …Yeah, that sounds about right.

A few moments later, he hit the ground, hard. “AAAAAGH! MEEEH-DIC!” he screamed, his voice a few octaves higher than normal.

“Oh, sweet mother Celestia, are you okay?!” Applejack blurted out, charging up to the injured human. “I didn’t mean t’ do that, I swear!”

The Engineer continued writhing around on the ground, only managing to get out some inarticulate screams in response.

“Engineer, are you OK?” asked the disembodied voice of Pinkie Pie. A few moments later, she darted up to him, carrying a green bottle of pills. “Don’t worry, I keep painkillers stashed all over Ponyville, in case of painkiller emergencies!”

Applejack glanced up at Pinkie, obviously surprised. “Uh… ya do?” she asked. “Are ya sure that’s legal?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Pinkie replied.

The Engineer groaned and removed his hand from his crotch in order to take the bottle. Once he removed his hand, however, he revealed a dark stain slowly spreading across it.

Applejack and Pinkie both reared back and gasped in horror. “Apple Bloom, go back inside!” Applejack shouted.

“Okay, this goes beyond a painkiller emergency!” Pinkie blurted out as the Engineer grabbed the bottle. “We’ve gotta get him to the hospital, stat!”

“No! No!” the Engineer blurted out, dropping the bottle and going back down to his crotch. “Leave me here! It’ll be quicker! I… nnnnghaaaahh! DOC! I NEED SOME DOGGONE HELP!”

“Whaddaya mean, quicker?” Applejack asked. “Yer in pain! Yer… yer bleedin’! Ya— Ah, Celestia, I’m so sorry!”

“My God…” the Engineer moaned, dropping. “Aaaaaagh, pain pain pain…”

“Okay, ‘ere’s the plan,” Applejack said, looking up. “Pinkie, there’s an old hay cart in the barn we use for Nightmare Night. Go get it an’ come back. Then we’ll—”

“Hello, Fräuleins!”

Applejack and Pinkie both looked up, more surprised than anything. “Oh, hi there, Medic!” Pinkie said, waving to the approaching human.

“Oh, now what?” Applejack wondered aloud.

The Medic practically skipped up to the barn, doing up the last button on his lab coat as he did so. “Yes, yes, hello Pinkie. I—” Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks. “Vait a minute, Pinkie?” he said, staring at the mare. “How ze hell did you get here before me? I don’t remember you leavink ze library.”

“We’ve got bigger problems than that right now!” Pinkie replied, pointing to the writhing Engineer.

The Medic looked back down at his fallen teammate and snorted. “Did ze Fräuleins haff zeir Mittelschmerz?” he asked, grinning and tipping his head to the side.

“Would you just help me already?!” the Engineer shouted through tears.

“All right, all right,” the Medic replied, rolling his eyes and pulling out his Medigun. “If you’d just hold still…” he added, aiming the Medigun at the Engineer and pushing the lever forward. Blah blah blah, healing gas covered the Engineer, the pain faded, the bloodstains faded with it. You know the drill. Eventually, the Engineer groaned one last time and slowly got to his feet. “‘Preciate it, Doc,” he sighed.

“You’re good to go,” the Medic said simply, stopping the flow of gas and putting the nozzle away. “Dare I ask vat happened here?”

“Applejack kicked me in the… eh… genetic dispenser,” the Engineer mumbled.

Applejack’s eyes widened. “Oh! O-Oh, that’s why… That makes a bit a’ sense… Oh, Celestia, I’m sorry,” she said. “I-I wasn’t tryin’ t’… Are you okay?”

“He’s fine now,” the Medic explained. And then he gave her the explanation about the Medigun and what it does. It took Applejack a little more time to buy it than Lyra did, but eventually she accepted it.

“…I… okay, I guess we’ll go with that, then,” she said, still pretty confused.

Pinkie giggled. “Good for you, admitting when you don’t understand it!” she said, patting her friend on the back. “I’d expect nothing less from the Element of Honesty!”

The Engineer’s admittedly nervous grin vanished in an instant.

Applejack cringed. “Pinkie, don’t bring that up,” she said. “I don’t like havin’ t’ explain it t’ ponies.”

The Medic arched an eyebrow. “Ze Element of Honesty?” he repeated. “You’re von of ze Elements of Harmony? Vell, vell. Vat a surprise. Hey, Engineer. Did you know Applejack’s von of ze vielders of an ancient superveapon? No kidding! She’s a bona fide Chosen Von! Zat’s seventeen, bottle, six, by ze vay. I’m not ze only von keepink track, am I?”

“Honesty, Kindness, Laughter, Generosity, Loyalty, an’ the keystone, Magic,” the Engineer recited flatly.

Applejack leaned back slightly. “How’d you know that?” she asked.

The Medic arched his eyebrow and gave his teammate a skeptical look. “Zat’s a good qvestion,” he asked. “I mean, I’ve been doink research about ze history of Eqvestria. How’d you figure it out?”

Suddenly, the Engineer darted forward. Applejack reared backwards, but before she could dart out of the Engineer’s way, he had his hands on her neck. Gently, mind you. They were just there to keep her from running away, not to choke her.

“Honesty, listen t’ me,” he said. “The Elements a’ Harmony… I don’t care how ya use ‘em. But if ya don’t have every wielder there… if the circuit ain’t complete… DO. NOT. TRY.”

Ah. I see where you’re going with this.

“Oh, good. That means I don’t have to explain it,” I say, swiveling around to face Helen. “Well, after that, things proceeded about as well as you’d expect. The Engineer calmed down, explained his condition, explained that he’d suffered from a flashback, and then proceeded to secure some housing for the night. Specifically, Applejack’s barn.”

Helen cocks her head to the side. “The barn?” she repeats. “That seems a bit odd. Was that the only room they could spare?”

“Well, the Engineer…” I make some fingerquotes around these words. “‘didn’t wanna impose.’ He probably could’ve scored the apple cellar if he’d wanted to, but he chose the barn. Anyway, nothing else really—”

Suddenly, the monitors start giving off bright red light or static, and spewing words in languages I don’t understand. I groan and put my hand over my eyes. “Oh, now what?” I groan.

A few moments later, there’s a massive burst of flame at the back of the room. “Hey dere. Discord, right?” asks a surprisingly imposing-sounding voice, through a heavy-accent that I can’t quite place.

I look up, and sure enough, there’s a third person in the room with us. He’s also wearing a well-pressed suit, but his is red. It matches his skin, which is a nice touch. Unlike Michael, he doesn’t have a halo, but he does have wings. They’re red and leathery, like a bat’s. He’s also got a black fedora to match the horns sprouting from his forehead. A lit cigar is clenched between his crooked, razor-sharp teeth. And he’s also wearing a big bronze ring with three sixes on it. Already, I like this guy’s style more than Michael’s. Of course, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s interrupting me.

“Whatever you want,” I grumble, “make it quick. I’m trying to tell a story here.”

The red man grins and plucks his cigar out of his mouth. It smells like brimstone. “Da name’s Mephistopheles, kid,” he says.

I shoot him a look and, after a few moments, begrudgingly stand up. “Can I just call you Mephisto?” I ask.

“I’d rather ya didn’t,” Mephisto replies. “Look, Discord… I represent a… well, tink of us as a big, happy family, yeah? And I’ll be frank wit’ ya. Our family’s always lookin’ for new membahs. Know what I mean?”

I don’t say anything for a long time. Eventually, though, I smile. “You know,” I say, extending my hand, “I kinda like you, Mephisto. You remind me of my father.” Mephisto chuckles and shakes my hand. “So let’s say I wanted to join this… family of yours. What would I be doing?”

“We consida’ ourselves legitimate businessmen,” Mephisto tells me.

“Eh… that’s never really been my style,” I reply.

Mephisto smirks. “But our ‘business,’” he tells me, “just so happens t’ be in punishin’ the souls a’ da damned. We need guys widda’ good sense a’ irony, and you fit da bill pretty well.”

“Oh,” I reply. “Well, I… guess I could do that… I don’t know, though. I’ve got kind of a cushy position up here. Are there any benefits, or…?”

“Ya’d hafta talk t’ Don Lucifer,” Mephisto replies. “But, y’know, I could put in a good word for ya, if yer interested.”

“Yeah, that’s… fine,” I say. “I guess I’ll give it some thought… but I have to say, you’re way more convincing than Michael.”

Mephisto chuckles. “Listen, kid… ‘tween you an’ me? I wouldn’t listen t’ da man upstairs. Da family… tends t’ ‘ave more fun, if ya catch my drift.” In a burst of flame, Mephisto vanishes.

“You know, I like that guy,” I say, flopping down again.

Helen scoffs. “Assuming this isn’t just some extended trick you’re playing on me,” she says, “I wouldn’t trust him.”

“Why not? He’s a legitimate businessman. He said so himself,” I chuckle.

Author's Note

Incident Zero means something different for every member of the RED Team, but it's classified for all of them. But then, you already knew that, right? And in completely unrelated information, I'm going to share a little secret with you. The gag I've unofficially labeled "Heaven, Inc. and the Demon Mafia," though I am very proud of it, is something I decided to throw in at the last minute. I can assure you, however, that it does have a payoff coming. As always, feel free to leave a comment below telling me what you think about what I've written so far. Thank you for reading my story, gentlemen. I may put this thing on hiatus for long periods of time occasionally, but I promise you I won't cancel it.