Resonance

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Written by: Oneimare

Preread and edited by: Jay Tarrant

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Arc 1 – Long Echoes Chapter 1 – The city of no hope

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“I would have kept you company, but she wanted to meet you alone.”

With that the usually chatty captain of the Praetorian Guard saluted and took off, leaving a tired young mare alone on the streets of Hope; a crumpled piece of paper with an address tucked under the belt of her heavy travelling bag.

Making a detour into the dusty city was the last thing Red Wire wanted right now, nor did she see any particularly good reason why her friend—and boss—couldn’t meet her at the Hive. Any other day she would have seriously considered ignoring that ‘request’ passed on by Teleta and headed straight home, but she was too tired after the long trip across the desert.

Dust scrunched under Wire’s hooves—an ever-present blight on the last pony bastion. It was one of many reasons why she disliked that place; it reminded her starkly of the endless rust forming the Junkyard’s soil. Brought from the neighbouring desert by the vast variety of creatures and occasional sandstorm, it was also created in abundance by harsh winds chiselling down the squalid sandstone houses.

Stout and half-submerged into the rock of the Badlands, they formed the bulk of the vast settlement sprawled across the inhospitable valley. Over that worn-out mass loomed the massive silhouettes of the Hive and Citadel, and less so that of Stalliongrad; and no homes of the Canterlot refugees could be found in their ominous shadows.

Though Wire’s path lay close to the desolate arcanium tower and the least populated locale, there were still a lot of ponies and other creatures on the streets. They mostly met her ragged form with mildly disapproving glances; those who’d had a chance to see her in action, bringing order to the dingy districts in their darkest moments—with fearful respect.

Eventually, she arrived at her destination—a fast-food joint, as she discovered to no surprise. Her attention was instantly drawn to an inconspicuous pegasus forlornly gazing at the thoroughfare. Curiously, there was only a cup of tea on the table; it didn’t seem to have been touched and the winged mare wasn’t even facing the grown cold drink.

Wire could easily describe the familiar disguise without coming closer—a white coat with a faint bluish tint to it, pink eyes and a wealth of periwinkle mane. The changeling could appear as young as she wished, but it seemed her subconscious had its saying. A shadow hanging over the frowning muzzle easily added ten years to her look.

All but throwing her bag near the table, Wire sat down opposite the changeling queen.

Though Clandestine Delight didn’t even flinch, the clatter of armour inside her duffle made heads turn in worry, and limbs jerk in panic. Wire squinted at the jumpy locals and only now did it occur to her how quiet it was; and not just this restaurant. There were no laughs of fillies and colts, no yells of merchants, no quarrels of motley crowds in the streets.

The entire city seemed to be holding its breath nervously and there couldn’t be many causes for that. A heavy sigh left Wire’s chapped lips.

“There was another attack, wasn’t there?”

Delight didn’t seem to react at first—too lost in thought. Then she slowly closed her eyes and lowered her head just as solemnly.

“How bad?”

Again, the changeling hesitated to answer for a long time. Her attentive gaze returned to the street, focusing on a couple arguing in hushed voices. The darkness of her expression thickened.

“No substantial structural damage this time, but they summoned something,” she nearly whispered. “It’s still on the loose. Double digits and counting.”

Wire grimaced.

“Bad but manageable.”

Delight finally turned to face her advisor. Wire’s natural eye widened when she saw the pegasus’s face rippling with the green sheen of changeling magic. The verdant glow evaporated the tears the moment they rolled down, making the queen’s expression appear serene; it couldn’t hide the endless pain from her voice, however.

“It’s over.”

“What!?” Worried muzzles and beaks once again snapped in her direction. “You just said—”

“It’s Oracle.” There was an angry edge to Delight’s voice. “She kept her promise.”

“Shit,” Wire hissed and slumped on the table, her face threatening to become a reflection of Del’s, at least of that hiding under the ironic changeling mask. More to herself than anyone else, she mumbled hollowly, “We can still manage, we only need to make some adjustments…”

“No, and you know it.” The queen shook her head sorrowfully. “Even before her flock left, even if our new social program succeeded, we would run out of love to supply procreation sooner or later. Now we barely have enough to sustain the Swarm and it’s going to get worse.”

“Del, we’ll get through this.”

Too soon the bitter words left the illusory lips:

“You will.”

Wire instantly tensed and shot her a look, though there was little negative emotion to it; and none of it was aimed at her friend.

Still, Delight was haste to stammer out, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

The changeling’s words were dismissed with a weak wave of Wire’s hoof. “It’s alright.” She let out another tired sigh. “I’m the one who should be sorry—I failed you. It was my only job.”

“No, you did your best though it was never your responsibility. It’s me who failed my children.”

“You did your best, too.”

“It wasn’t enough,” Delight grimly objected.

There was no trace of woe in Wire’s expression when she said, “You have my word, I will see you through this.”

“Thank you, Geode.”

Though it was faint, a genuine smile appeared on the changeling’s face for the first time in a while. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to bask in the promise of a bright future for a bit, not bothering to think if it would come true. Then her eyelids fluttered open, she let her gaze rest on Wire. The young mare’s muzzle was scrunched in a deep discontent.

Delight chuckled darkly, “You can break the news to me, I can’t feel any worse, anyway.”

“Not exactly news.” Wire shrugged, making a wry face. “We knew it already, it’s just official now.”

It was Del’s turn to exhale through her mouth.

“How much time do we have?”

“Hard to say, the anomaly’s dynamic is too chaotic for even the most advanced tools to predict.” Wire went silent, then added thoughtfully. “I would say somewhere between fifty and hundred years before Dodge City knocks on our doors.”

The changeling pursed her lips.

“A wide range.” Her voice gained a sombre quality to it as she continued, “Still more than our Swarm has in any case.”

Wire shot her another sympathetic look but said nothing. She looked away and her eyes fell on a steep spire towering over them, its shadow lazily crawling across the city of Hope. Every time she looked at the immaculate metal, her brow furrowed and this time was no exception; her forehead creased even deeper than usual.

“I hate to say it, but you should talk to her,” she grumbled quietly, half-hoping her words would be unheard.

A shadow of strange melancholic emotion visited Delight’s face for a fleeting moment before she shook her head with a frown of her own.

“She can’t help us.”

“I ain’t buying that shit, she is a fucking goddess.”

Delight scrunched her nose in distaste, but it wasn’t aimed at Wire; the changeling, too, stared at the Citadel of equinoids, squinting.

“I’m not sure the Machine Goddess is here.” Her voice was low as if she was afraid to be heard. “She hasn’t left the Citadel in years, not even for the city council.”

The queen’s words were met with a splutter of laughter.

“Says someone who for the last dozen meetings sent Teleta and I there instead of going herself.”

“What’s the point of attending?” Del rolled her eyes. “It’s just the Stalliongrad Technocracy being assholes.”

A mischievous smile crept onto Wire’s face.

“Does that mean I can stop going to them, too?”

“Eh, if you feel you don’t need your bonus anymore.” The queen shrugged nonchalantly.

“My ‘bonus’ feeds the Swarm, Del,” deadpanned the young mare.

“Fine. We can’t afford to waste time on their waffling anyway.”

The little mirth the conversation had evaporated in instant, leaving the two mares staring at each other, their eyes framed by dark circles hiding very deep exhaustion; fatigue that no amount of rest could remedy.

Around them, the city teemed with the frantic life of those who, even after a decade, still couldn’t get used to the new ways. The couple that was arguing for a while had failed to cease their fight—it had only become more heated. Wire and Del watched them with sad expressions.

There were no brothels in Hope and all hope was in happy families.

It was Wire who finally drew attention away from one of the countless failures of their seemingly hopeless endeavour. “I suppose that also means we should get back to work.”

Delight averted her gaze.

“About that…”

Wire didn’t even need to put the effort in suppressing a groan; she was just too tired to let one out. Closing her eyes in resignation, she grumbled, “Let me guess—Stalliongrad has asked for help with the latest goat spawn. Again.”

“Not them—the police.” Delight smiled apologetically, but her friend’s visage remained unchanged. “I don’t know the full details, but they sounded desperate.”

“They always do, though it’s hard to blame them,” Wire said, standing up from the table. Hoisting the bag back onto her shoulders, she lamented, “Guess I’ll have to sleep some other day.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“If not me, then who?”

These days the ranks of Hope’s police consisted mostly of vigilantes with rare officers from Canterlot who either had no history of corruption or were very good at hiding their past. They had even changed the colour of their uniform. Yet the police headquarters in that district stood ostracized, the vandalized walls given wide berth.

Hiding in the shadow of one such sandstone slab, Wire fumbled with a buckle of her armour. The modified version of the Praetorian Guard harness had seen better days and the recent visit to Dodge City had done it no favours.

Whilst its enchanted plating was forged from arcanium as a gift from the Citadel, the other elements were made from the plain steel of the local foundry. After exposure to the elements and frequent use, they already began to rust and deform. Wire hoped it was just the technology in dire need of improvement; she didn’t believe in curses in the conventional sense, but there were just too many troubles that followed the refugees from Canterlot like a sinister shadow.

Caught in her unpleasant thoughts, Wire barely noticed the presence in front of her, a shade both magical and physical cast on her. Not pausing her battle with the stubborn clasp, she spared the newcomer a glance only to instantly return her attention to what she was doing.

“Since when is the police chief of this district a Kirin?”

It was supposed to be a joke, but Wire failed to inject her voice with even a hint of levity. She didn’t need to look up to know she was being glared at.

Just as hollow a reply followed, “Since two days ago.”

Wire shot the freshly appointed chief a look both surprised and quizzical, frowning in concern. Her experience with the Kirin was limited, but the mare seemed to be young, barely older than her, if at all.

The Kirin met Wire’s eyes and that little hardness she had evaporated as her shoulders sagged and she uttered, “Resignation.”

“Don’t get me wrong, but I’m not sure it’s better than the alternative.” Wire could feel the glare again. “I can’t imagine many things able to make Grim Mastic quit.”

“It’s your lucky day, then. We have one on our hooves.”

Finally, the arcanium plate took its place on Wire’s sheen and remained there steadfast. Her eyes left the armour for the last time, however, they didn’t rest on the police chief either.

“Lucky or not, I don’t have it all at my disposal.” Her tired gaze slid past the Kirin only to find an empty street and she frowned. “Let’s gather the rest of your team and head out.”

“I’m the only one.”

Wire’s brow slowly migrated to her forehead as she stared at the police chief who refused to meet her eyes.

The silence lasted for a long uneasy moment and when it threatened to become unbearably awkward, the Kirin quietly admitted, her voice bitter, “Many left along with commissioner Grim—we’re severely understaffed as of now. And if I put anyone on this case, they will just leave.”

Grim Mastic wasn’t a hero. He had been justice incarnate using fear to bring order to the streets, be it Canterlot or Hope. He was an earth pony dreaded by both pegasi and unicorns, and it wasn’t because he managed to cram into his body as many prosthetics he could without losing his mind… completely.

The new chief of police was the exact opposite.

“Then stay.” Not bothering to hear the answer, Wire trotted past the Kirin, throwing over her shoulder, “You need a full squad if you want a chance to survive.”

With a tearing sound, the mare teleported in front of Wire, glaring at her.

“I’m coming.”

A simple spell would be enough to knock her out, but the diplomatic consequences aside, Wire doubted it could stop the Kirin. Whatever burned in her eyes, driving her to commit to the suicidal endeavour, she lacked common sense.

Perhaps, she had what it took to be a commissioner.

“Lead the way.”

The police uniform did no favours to the Kirin mare. The worn fabric pressed the voluminous fur down, revealing her true and unimpressive stature. It being the same colour as her coat, combined with the shadows of the back alleys gave her the appearance of a barely adult mare. At least she had the sense to put her voluptuous purple mane into a tight bun, so she wouldn’t look like a cloud on a stick; though, it still stuck up awkwardly at her neck.

With a scowl Wire noted the lack of any weapon—she was one of those. The rust showing under the flaking black paint promised just a little in the protection department. Whatever ace the police chief had up her sleeve, it had to be real good.

Staring at either the despondency of the Kirin’s equipment or her haunches began to grate on Wire’s mind and she needed a distraction.

“I didn’t quite catch your name.”

“Night Wind,” she replied in a slightly annoyed tone, not bothering to turn.

“Sounds like something a pegasus would come up with.”

A golden eye glared at her.

“You have a problem with that?”

Wire couldn’t help but smile. She knew at least three ways to kill Night Wind right there and then before the Kirin even realized what’s happening.

“No. I like it.”

Night shot her a confused half-glare but said nothing.

The mirthful expression melted away from Wire’s face as the dark thoughts reminded her of why she was there. However fun it was poking Night Wind, she didn’t have all day indeed.

“What do you have so far? From what Heterocera told me, it doesn’t sound like a common goat spawn.”

“Because it has nothing in common with anything we have dealt before.”

Wire squinted at ‘we’, wondering how many times Night Wind had dealt with the abominations the goat terrorists had a habit of summoning every other time.

“Everything happens for the first time,” she mused with a shrug and grumbled, “I remember when we didn’t use the words ‘common’ and ‘goat spawn’ together.” Clearing her throat, she added, “So, what’s so unusual about it?”

“It’s easier to show than explain.”

Night disappeared behind the next corner.

Wire followed her and came into a small bystreet, divided from the bright expanse of some thoroughfare with numerous stacked containers. There was a body betwixt her and the metal boxes; it was covered with a tarp, a puddle of blood leaking from one of its ragged edges.

She headed straight to it, noting Night Wind not taking a step further into the alley.

With that much blood shed, Wire expected the victim to have suffered horrible wounds leading to their quick death and was still surprised. Judging by the mess of feathers, it was a pegasus, but that was where any further attempts to identify the dead ceased.

It was as if the victim had been subjected to every type of physical attack possible. Torn and twisted, it sported the signs of pulverizing blows along with deep cuts covering the entire body, not a single spot missed.

Sitting at the side of the corpse, Wire slid her hooves into those incisions without any hesitation and she could swear Night suppressed a retch behind her. With her artificial eye aglow and brow furrowed first in concentration, later in concern, she meticulously studied every instance of damage.

Finally, she reclined back, blood dripping from her hooves and asked without tearing her eyes from the massacred body.

“How does it look?”

The question took Night by surprise both because she hadn’t been looking and had to process the meaning, but she quickly recovered.

“It either targets lone victims or leaves no witnesses.”

“What, no visual contact even when it was summoned?” Wire asked, glancing at the police chief with one brow raised.

“The statements are contradictory and likely over-exaggerated.”

“At least that hasn’t changed. Anything else?”

There was a pause before Night Wind answered the question with an unsure inquiry of her own, “Like what?”

Wire gave her a long stare, then deadpanned, “Like a pattern.”

Night bristled and shot back, “There doesn’t seem to be any.”

Continuing to stare at her, Wire asked one more question. “Did you run it through analytic tools or is that a hunch?”

The seconds passed and there was no answer. A heavy sigh escaped her lips.

She nodded at the corpse. “Are they all like this?”

The Kirin mare refused to look in her direction and it had nothing to do with the gruesome sight this time.

“Pretty much yes.”

“You did no necrotomy, didn’t you?”

“We are police, not medics.”

Wire let out another tired sigh and produced a rag from the bag on her shoulders to wipe her hooves, grumbling all the while, “No proper analysis, no autopsy and just one Kirin on the case, despite over a dozen victims. Gives the impression of nobody giving a single fuck in this city. Just like the good old times.”

Night Wind bristled and tried to defend herself, “Oracle’s cult just left—the entire infrastructure is crippled.” Seeing how it had no effect, she added bitterly, “And it’s not like we were never on our own.”

“Just like the good old times,” Wire echoed.

She then finished rubbing blood from her armour, or, rather rubbing it all over the metal and patiently waited for Night to stop staring at her hooves with a defeated expression.

The Kirin mare visibly bolstered herself and when she looked up, her golden eyes burned with the fire from before meeting Wire’s slightly mismatched eyes.

“What do we do now?”

Wire met her enthusiasm with a tired expression, slowly blinking before answering, “Since you are asking that question, I bring up my offer again—go home. I’m not going to hold it against you.”

“No.”

“It’s not a goat spawn.”

Night stared at her in shock.

“The cuts go through flesh, sinew and bone like a hot knife through butter—that’s magic, not claws or teeth.” Wire motioned with her head at the body, then pointed her hooves at the street around it. “Also, there are no prints in the dust, those things always leave them. In fact, there are no clues whatsoever, save for traces of deaf arcanium dust, but that’s likely from my armour.”

“What is it then?” Night’s voice was so quiet, it was almost a whisper. It seemed she was putting an effort into not looking behind her.

“Something even I might not be prepared to deal with.”

The fear was gone in an instant from her expression, replaced by steel resolve.

“I’m not convinced.”

For the second time, Wire contemplated putting Night Wind out of action—that would likely save her life. However, with the situation changed drastically from a somewhat routine hunt to the full-blown investigation of a serious threat, she might prove useful. And if she was killed during it, then Wire might be removed from the task for incompetence.

Pointing at a sewer hatch, she said:

“We start from there.”

The sewer system of Hope met the two mares with nearly absolute silence, disturbed only by the moisture dripping from the rusty pipes and the rustle of rats’ tails against the dust filtered down.

“At least we got one thing right,” Wire commented as the steps of her metal armour echoed through the narrow and deserted tunnel.

She was surprised with Night asking from behind her, “Was it worth it?”

Above Wire a vast city bustled with its daily struggle for food, shelter and brief moments of happiness. For too often, its dwellers had failed to find all three for extended periods of time.

“No.” She shook her head. “Not really.”

A ray of light from a crystal-based lantern revealed from the shadows not just the drainage and sewer systems intervening, but traces of magic—or it would if there were any. Save for the occasional barely noticeable indication of recent repairs, there were no signs of magic or life.

“But it’s better than what we had in Canterlot,” Wire continued. “We could have no future there.”

“Do we have it here?” Night asked, her question bearing not a hint of sarcasm.

She slightly sped up to walk shoulder to shoulder with Wire. As she looked into the golden eyes seemingly shining in the dim light of the underground passage, she somehow knew the Kirin mare was younger than her—she wouldn’t even have had a cutie mark during the Exodus if she was a pony.

“It’s not something you have or not, the future is built,” she lied.

“Last I heard it hasn’t gone so splendidly for the Swarm,” Night noted and as she received a glare from Wire in response, was quick to offer an excuse, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m a Kirin after all.”

Wire’s discontent was quick to abate and when she spoke, there was even sadness in her voice, “Even at your worst times, the Kirin weren’t considered parasites. And people still remember the Crown.”

“Can you blame them?”

Wire’s first instinct was to shoot Night another glare.

The Royal Guard might be no more and there were no brothels, but that didn’t wipe away the past. Many mares and stallions still bore the Moth marks and it rarely made their lives any better. The Praetorian Guard was a power to be reckoned with, yet they rarely helped with terrorists or other such issues.

“No.”

“I hope we’ll do it,” Night quietly said, solemnly adding as she received a puzzled glance, “Build the future.”

“To hope is all we can do in this city,” Wire recited in a neutral tone the saying that had become very popular around the last few years.

The lantern caught another entwinement of pipes from the shadows, just as inconspicuous as any others. With a scowl she commented on that, “I don’t think we are going to find anything here.”

“Does that mean we’ve hit a dead end?”

Her lips pursed, Wire stood silent, letting the all-revealing light scan the darkness in a final futile attempt to see more than there was to it. Returning to the body in the alley was just as useless, not with only the commissioner of two days who’d never dealt with anything more serious than a street theft.

“Do you have any data on the other victims?” She tried and thankfully got a nod. “I might get something out of it.”

Wire turned around and even before the lantern followed her she saw someone in the shadows, felt the magic presence. It was a tall figure, its sharp horn almost scraping the ceiling. The light was reflected with distinct and unmistakable hues from the arcanium plating. A pair of glowing eyes gazed calmly from the mask, an expression of serenity etched into it.

It took a step forward and into the light.

“Hello, Red Wire,” Machine Goddess greeted her.

Author's Note

If you notice any mistakes sneaked in through the editing, let me know.

Stay awesome.