This Message is a Warning

by Blade Star

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, Mystery, Spike, Science Fiction, Horror, Starlight Glimmer, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 8976

How do you send a message to the future?

When the princesses receive word of a mysterious illness breaking out at an archaeological survey site in the Badlands, they send Twilight, Spike, and Starlight to investigate. They find a bizarre sequence of markers, signs, and hints left long before pony civilisation as they know it, leading the way to place long forgotten by history. Together, the ponies must uncover their meaning, before an ancient evil from a past not even remembered by ponies leaves its mark on the future.

Thanks to Alden MacManx for proof reading.

Featured 31/10 - 05/11/21

Published 2021-10-30 18:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2021-10-30 18:10:00 UTC

This Message is a Warning

Messages. They’re sent every day, to all sorts of ponies. They’re short, long, simple, complex, but when you get right down to it, they all follow similar patterns. The same language is used, the same syntax. A hundred and one different concepts all tie together to make a message understood. So, how do you send a message, without words? How do you tell somepony something important when they can’t read, or understand your language?

Pictures sound like a good idea, doesn’t it? To communicate, for example, a warning, or danger sign, the classic skull and crossbones would suffice. Not necessarily so. A couple hundred years ago, the skull symbol indicated an alchemist. Show what we would all recognise as a ‘danger’ sign, and somepony in Old Equestria might think ‘doctor’.

And that’s just two hundred years. How much do you think the world will change in over ten thousand? Who will be there then, and how would you send a message to them? Would they understand language? Letters? Images? Even the most simple, common concepts, to them, would be totally alien and incomprehensible.

This was a dilemma faced by beings long before Equestria came to be. They mulled the idea over, examined various possibilities, trialled various concepts. But they would never know if their efforts had been successful. Only time would tell if their most vital message would be understood.

Somewhere in the Appleloosa Desert...

“Okay. One, two, three, now!”

There was a loud crash as pickaxe met rock, with the pick winning out over its older adversary. As the wall gave way, opening up a small window, two faces peered into the void they had just opened. Dust hung in the air, floating as it was illuminated by the lamp light.

“Can you see anything, Dr. Fossil?” one pony asked as she too tried to get a look inside.

“Not much, Paleo,” the doctor replied. “It looks like a large chamber though. Here, get me some more light.”

“Hang on,” Paleo said, activating her magic. The lantern on Dr. Fossil’s grip was quickly supplemented by a pale blue glow from her horn, giving a much better view. Dr. Fossil smiled.

“Yep. It looks like we’ve got ourselves a burial site of some sort,” she said, beaming.

“Look! A sarcophagus!” Paleo said, pointing with a hoof. Dr. Fossil frowned for a moment, lifting the lantern higher. She let out a gasp of surprise.

“There’s dozens of them!” she exclaimed.

Indeed there were. In the darkness, each standing on its end, equidistant apart, arranged in a grid formation, were at least twenty towering stone monoliths.

“A mass grave,” Paleo surmised. “Maybe some ancient battle?”

“Who, though?” Dr. Fossil asked. “These aren’t ponies, and none of this matches anything in Buffalo culture.”

“Changelings?” Fossil shook her head.

“They consume their dead, my dear.” Paleo gagged.

“Urgh! Gross!”

The pair were then joined by a third pony, a young earth pony stallion, a camera hanging around his neck.

“Ah, you broke through at last!” he exclaimed in delight. “Anything good in there?” Paleo let out a laugh.

“You’ll need a few flash bulbs, Shutterbug,” she joked. “Come on, give us a hoof opening up this wall.” The stallion removed his camera, setting it to one side, and picked up one of the other pickaxes sitting nearby.

The trio set to work in earnest, turning the small hole into something more reminiscent of a doorway. Before too long, they had a safe way in and out of the chamber.

With Paleo’s horn providing most of their light, they stepped inside. The room was indeed immense, the light not reaching the far walls. All around were these pillars that didn’t quite reach the roof.

“Well, judging by the decay on these,” Shutterbug said. “I’d say we’re looking at pre-Equestrian civilisation.” Fossil nodded.

“I’d agree,” she said. “I can’t recall any known culture that buries their dead like this.”

“It could be something else,” Paleo suggested. “Maybe a sealed vault of some sort?”

“Either way,” Fossil said. “Why build all that hostile architecture on the surface? If they didn’t want this place found, it would be easier if they didn’t put a great big sign pretty much saying ‘dig here’. I wonder if…” Fossil stopped dead in her tracks.

“Doc?” Shutterbug called out from the rear. Fossil licked her lips for a moment.

“Can you taste that in the air?” she asked. “It’s like...metal?”

Suddenly, the light began to fade. Fossil turned to Paleo.

“Hey, Paleo, keep that spell up!” she called back. There was no reply. “Paleo?”

Turning around, she saw her unicorn friend looking somewhat under the weather. Her eyes were unfocussed and her horn was now letting out a dimmer light that ebbed and flowed.

“Paleo?” Shutterbug called, letting out a cough.

He lifted his lantern to get more light on her, but was alarmed to find it too was flickering and fading. He was just about to say something to Dr. Fossil when he heard a loud thud. Turning to see better, he saw his friend now lying on the floor. Seconds later, Paleo followed, her horn now extinguished altogether. Deeply frightened. Shutterbug turned back to the portal they’d created.

“Hel…” he got halfway through ‘help’ when he found his mouth filled with fluid. Leaning over, he vomited. The lantern’s light reflected the redness of the blood.

“Help!” he bellowed as his own lantern went out, and the darkness closed in.

Princess Twilight Sparkle was currently quite contentedly curled up in her makeshift bookfort. Her busy life as the Princess of Friendship had recently left her with a desire to recapture that lost innocent happiness of childhood. And so, with help from Spike, she had constructed a modest castle-like structure within the already impressive library of her castle. She was now contentedly resting atop a large pillow, slowly working her way through her castle’s walls to pass the time on this quiet Saturday afternoon.

“Twilight?” Spike prodded as he poked his head through the opening. “Don’t you think this is a little...well, silly?” He tried to be tactful, but even by Twilight’s standards, this was all a little strange.

“Oh c’mon, Spike,” the alicorn chided. “There’s no harm in having a little fun every now and then. I haven’t built one of these since I was a filly.”

“My point exactly,” Spike said in a deadpan tone.

“Well it’s no more silly than you and Big Mac gathering around all your spreadsheets, dice, and cardboard cut-outs when you two have your O&O games.”

“That’s...they’re nothing alike!” Spike retorted, blushing slightly. Twilight chuckled.

“It’s just nice to have a little fun every now and then, Spike,” she said. “Celestia knows I don’t get much time to have it these days.”

At that moment, Spike let out a fairly impressive burp, followed by a flash of green flame as a letter from Princess Celestia materialised between the two.

“You had to say it, didn’t you?” Spike said with a grin as he handed her the scroll.

Untying the ribbon and breaking the seal, Twilight unfurled the letter and began to read. While her old mentor’s summons was not quite as serious as the usual ‘Equestria is in imminent danger of total destruction’, it was still far from a friendly offer to catch up. It ran in this way.

‘My Dear Twilight Sparkle,

As I’m sure you’re aware, following the peace with the Buffalo Nation, Equestrian archaeologists have been exploring areas of the Badlands previously out of bounds to ponies. One of the teams appears to have stumbled upon an unusual find. During excavation however, they have evidently disturbed something underground. The survey team has reported an outbreak of an unusual illness of which there is no record in any archive.

At any other time, either Luna or myself would go to investigate, and you know how much I would relish such an adventure. But with the still ongoing peace negotiations with Thorax and the new changeling government, I’m afraid I must ask you to go in our stead.

On arrival in Appleloosa, you will be met by the head of the survey team. Together you will visit the excavation site and begin investigations.

Please move quickly. While this new illness doesn’t seem to be contagious beyond the research site, the effects on ponies are grave, and we must uncover the cause before any lives are lost.

Your friend,

Princess Celestia’

Twilight was quick to abandon her bookfort. And poor Spike found himself dodging collapsing tomes as the alicorn quite literally burst through the wall of her carefully build abode. The crash also brought the castle’s other resident, Starlight Glimmer, running to see what the matter was.

“Twilight? Are you okay?” she called from the hallway as she came running in at a gallop, her hooves skidding on the crystal floor. She looked with some dismay at the ruined bookfort, and was quick to recognise the symptoms in her friend. Not that the letter still floating in her magic didn’t make it obvious.

“I’m fine,” the alicorn assured her. “But we need to get to Appleloosa right away!”

“What did the letter say?” Spike asked, having now extricated himself from the collapse.

“There’s some sort of disease outbreak out in the Badlands,” she explained, summarising Celestia’s message. “A few archaeologists have fallen ill, and the princess wants us to go out there and try and find a cause.”

“Er...why us?” Starlight asked, a little perplexed. “That’s not exactly a friendship problem.”

“The princesses are busy with the final changeling peace negotiations,” Twilight pointed out. “And this new illness could be a serious threat to Equestria. Now come on!”

With that, the alicorn hurriedly grabbed her saddlebags and headed out the door. Starlight and Spike quickly followed. Heading out to Ponyville’s train station, they were soon on their way south.

As the train bustled its way along the main line towards Appleloosa, Starlight found herself staring out at the desert landscape that was flying by her window. She had been in animated discussions with Twilight on the possible cause of this sudden outbreak. The obvious cause was clear enough. The survey team had potentially disturbed something during their excavation, inadvertently exposing themselves. But how could a disease of any kind survive that long? And there was another question on her mind, which Spike helpfully asked for her.

“What were these ponies even doing all the way out here?” he asked Twilight, whose snout was buried in a book.

“This region wasn’t always a desert, Spike,” she explained. “In the past, ponies believe it may have been a lot more vibrant; an open prairie. But as time went on, the weather changed and the land dried up. Buffalo trade routes moved, and the area turned into the desert it is now. Before that though, there’s evidence of both buffalo and early pony civilisations. The team was looking for evidence of this when they were exposed.”

“So what do you think caused it?” Starlight asked. Twilight frowned.

“I’ve been looking through all the books I can,” she replied. “But I can’t find any mention of a disease or virus that could stay dormant, or survive outside a living host for so long. I’m not sure where or not it’s magical, whatever it is, but it certainly is nasty. Most ponies only report weakness in limbs, loss of balance, and what sounds like a bad flu. But the three ponies who went underground have it much worse; vomiting, blistering of the skin, bald patches in the hide and mane, severe bleeding.”

Spike and Starlight both grimaced at the chilling list of symptoms.

“The good news is, after they were taken to hospital, the symptoms lessened a great deal. That makes me think that we aren’t dealing with a pathogen at all, more like a poison. Exposure causes illness, and moving away lessens it.”

“Okay, then in that case,” Spike said. “Why the hay are we going anywhere near it? Shouldn’t the princesses just order the area sealed off?”

“We need to know what it is we’re dealing with, Spike,” Starlight explained. “Whatever they unearthed, we don’t know how dangerous or widespread it is. For all we know, it could spread through the air to Appleloosa or other towns. Until we can determine the extent, we can’t contain it.”

“More to the point, we can’t effectively treat the ponies exposed,” Twilight added.

At that moment, the train slowed as it pulled into Appleloosa. There were plenty of ponies milling about on the platform, but Twilight was quick to pick out their escort. Waiting for them was Braeburn, Applejack’s cousin, Sheriff Star, a pony she didn’t recognise, and, rather curiously, Chief Thunderhooves, of the Buffalo.

As the train came to a halt, Twilight and the others stepped down onto the platform. Braeburn was quick to greet them.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, princess,” Braeburn said gratefully with a bow. Twilight struggled to not look away awkwardly.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t get here sooner,” she replied diplomatically, trying to ignore Braeburn’s bow. She still wasn’t too comfortable with her princess title.

“This is Cherenkov,” he went on, gesturing to the slate grey pegasus standing besides him.

“A pleasure to meet you, your highness,” he said, offering a hoof, his accent that of the country near the Frozen North. “I’m in charge of the archaeological dig in the Badlands.”

“Has there been any improvement in the ponies affected?” Starlight asked. Cherenkov shook his head, his dark mane swishing slightly.

“I’m afraid not,” he answered. “The majority are recovering well enough, but the three that went underground are still in a bad way. The doctors are making them comfortable, but we have no understanding of this illness, and so no way to treat it.”

“I cautioned you against such risks, grey pony,” Thunderhooves said in a deep voice. “But you would not listen.” Cherenkov scowled at the bison.

“Chief Thunderhooves here didn’t want the survey team going anywhere near the place.”

“We have known for many moons to stay far away from that part of the world,” the chief said. “It is filled with bad medicine. What you would call, dark magic.”

“Do you know what it is that causes it?” Twilight asked curiously. Thunderhooves shook his head.

“We have only ever known to stay away,” he replied. “A place where the earth is scarred, where nothing grows, and even the wind and birdsong is absent, is not a place for ponies to go.”

His description intrigued Twilight, and while she respected the old chief’s advice, she could not simply leave it alone.

“We appreciate your warning, Chief Thunderhooves,” she said kindly with a slight bow. “But we must find the cause of this illness. I assure you, we will take every precaution.”

“Indeed,” Cherenkov agreed. “We’ve found that biohazard suits seem to offer some degree of protection. Once we reach the dig site, we’ll all change into them before proceeding further.”

It took some time for them to reach the site of the dig. Fortunately, it was quite a distance from any settlement, to say nothing of water sources or food supplies. To start with, the group had simply trekked through the desert. The land was flat, wide, and open. Railroads would probably pass through here eventually.

But as they neared the source of the dig site, this began to change. First of all, the weather turned. This far out, so far from civilisation, there were no weather teams controlling the skies. The southern region was typically fairly dry, and while that was the case here, lack of weather control meant the sky had darkened to be permanently overcast.

Despite this though, the air was still. Just as Thunderhooves had said. The entire time, there wasn’t even a gust, not a hint of a breeze. Even the stereotypical tumble-weed was absent. The air was completely still, and their hoofsteps, the slightest sound, even their heartbeats, seemed magnified in this deafening silence.

Then the landscape began to change. For miles around, the landscape was more or less flat. The whole region was until you reached the foothills of the Macintosh Range in the far south. But as they followed the trail to the dig, this began to change.

At first, Twilight thought she was looking at cacti. The lack of normal vegetation had not gone unnoticed by her, and when she saw the tall, spiked shapes in the distance, she assumed that that was what they were. But as they drew nearer, she realised they weren’t cacti at all. They were rock. Solid rock spikes, jutting from the ground at odd angles, each one with spikes of its own. It reminded her of the obsidian crystals that Sombra had created in the Crystal Empire.

“Strange, isn’t it?” Cherenkov commented as they began to weave their way through the eerie field. “There’s no natural phenomenon that could do that. We hypothesise that this may mark a boundary of some sorts; a way to keep out other groups or tribes.”

“It certainly does that,” Starlight agreed as the group shifted to single file to weave between them.

The path through this ominous field was not an easy one. And while it was possible to weave between the spikes, it was fraught with difficulty. Were the spikes simply jutting out of the ground, it wouldn’t have been so bad, but each spike was dotted all along its surface with smaller thorn-like protrusions. They were not sharp as such, but brushing up against one did graze the skin. And of course, that was forgetting the effects of being in this field.

All around, in front, behind, and even above them, there were nothing but spikes. The varying angles made it seem as if some were going to collapse onto them at any moment, and gave a feeling of being surrounded. The shapes themselves were enough to give anypony pause, seeming to resemble lightning bolts in places. Twilight found herself reminded of Rainbow’s cutie mark.

“Are we nearly through this, Cherenkov?” she asked after what felt like several minutes.

The confines of the spike field had compelled the group to compress into a single file, with Cherenkov leading, and Spike at the back. The bay pegasus turned his head to look backwards to Twilight.

“Almost,” he assured. “I swear, if this place does turn out to be significant enough to establish a permanent presence here, I’m going to recommend blasting a channel through this. To Tartarus with its cultural significance.”

Luckily, he was right, and a little while later, the group squeezed their way past the last jagged spire and found themselves able to stretch their limbs again.

The strange field though, was just the start of the bad medicine Thunderhooves had warned them of. After they cleared the field, which had to be at least half a mile deep, and stretched off into the distance on either side, they soon encountered more strange rock formations. This time though, instead of spikes, it was blocks. They were vast, square blocks, about the size of a house. Each one seemingly carved out of the earth.

But while they resembled a house, there were no doors or windows and they lacked a typical slanted roof, being a simple cube shape instead. They were just solid lumps of rock. They weren’t natural though. Nothing in nature could cause such uniformity. They weren’t the some rocks that randomly dotted the natural landscape either. These unsettling monoliths were granite, seemingly painted an eerie black that seemed to absorb all light, reflecting nothing. What was stranger still though, was how they were arranged.

“It’s like some creepy town,” Spike commented, inching a little closer to Twilight for comfort.

“It is, isn’t it,” Twilight agreed. “I feel like we’re walking along a street.”

“I’m not sure which is worse, this or the spikes,” Starlight added.

The rocks, and the way they were set up were on something of a grid, vaguely reminiscent of streets. Many were lined up in rows, equidistant from one another. But there was one crucial difference. As they came to a corner, Cherenkov stopped.

“Oh, hang on. I just need to get my bearings. It’s easy to get lost here.” Spike was now all but clinging to Twilight’s leg, and Starlight wasn’t much better.

“Let’s try this way,” the stallion said after a moment, turning back on himself.

And so their trek through the maze began. The rock houses all looked the same, and there was no rhyme or reason to the pattern of the streets. Turns would lead you to dead ends, or back on yourself, and with no reference points, it was easy to become utterly disorientated. Combined with the overcast weather, and the unearthly stillness and silence, it wasn’t long before all of them started to feel uneasy.

The four felt as if they were going in circles, but Cherenkov assured them they were making progress. The black monoliths seemed to close in around them as they wound through what felt like a dead world. It was barely past midday, yet the overcast weather gave the impression of a perpetual twilight. The silence, lack of wind, animal or plant life, combined with the feeling of disorientation was more than a little unsettling. While there was nothing overtly threatening about this place, it nonetheless felt scary. Shadows and monoliths began to intermingle, and it wasn’t long before their minds began to play tricks on them.

“Ah! What was that?!” Spike suddenly jumped, letting out a startled cry.

The others quickly pivoted around, Twilight and Starlight activating their magic to brighten the way. This however, only served to cast more unsettling shadows. They all waited a few moments, but nothing moved. There was nothing, just the silence. The horrible silence of a dead world, where nothing and no one should go.

“I swear I saw...I saw something right there!” Spike insisted fearfully, pointing at the corner of one street with an outstretched claw. “It had wings and what looked like claws!”

“It’s alright, my dragon friend,” Cherenkov assured him as he joined the concerned group gathered around the young dragon. “We found this problem common amongst the team. It’s this place. The mind starts to play tricks on you after a while.”

“I sure wouldn’t want to come through here on my own,” Starlight said uneasily, who privately reflected that she too could swear that someone was following them, watching at them, peering through the shadows.

“Come on,” Twilight said, doing her best to sound encouraging. “Let’s keep moving and get to the dig site.”

And so they continued through what felt increasingly like some horrible nightmare; an endless town leading ponies in circles. Even Twilight, a firm believer in the rational and logical, struggled to keep her calm here. Foalhood fears of monsters in the dark began to rear their heads. She was certainly glad when they finally cleared the bizarre town and returned once more to an open plain.

If Twilight and the others thought their unsettling journey was at an end though, they were very wrong. While the unnerving obstacles were now behind them, the path ahead didn’t seem to offer much improvement. The land was now uneven. Very little vegetation grew anywhere, if it was even possible in this uneven terrain. The ground was marred with uneven bumps, rises and small craters. As if there had once been something here, and subsequently destroyed and buried under the earth. On the horizon, she could see more disturbing black granite blocks.

“From what we can tell,” Cherenkov said, seemingly less affected by everything. “Those spikes and blocks are built in a wide ring radius around the site. As you saw, just passing through is deeply unsettling. The design itself seems to have been chosen to invoke feelings of unease.”

“So why is your site all the way in the centre?” Starlight asked. “Shouldn’t you be studying all that stuff? It all seems pretty clear what the ponies who built it were trying to do; keep anything out.”

“The question though,” Cherenkov replied. “Is why. And, for the record, we did thoroughly examine a portion of both sites before venturing further. But aside from their physical construction being artificial, and designed to be long lasting, we didn’t find much that would tell us about the ponies who built it.”

“They were certainly right about wanting to keep ponies away,” Starlight said, a little coldly.

“And we are taking every precaution,” Cherenkov countered, sounding a little irritated himself as he turned around to speak to her. “We evacuated the area as soon as we realised the danger. In order to mitigate it, we need to understand what it is, and like it or not, that means going deeper into the site.”

“He’s right, Starlight,” Twilight agreed, trying to play peacemaker. “We have to find out the cause of this illness.”

“Well, we’re one step closer now. We’re here.”

As the group crested a small rise, the modest survey encampment came into view. Originally, this was just a motley collection of tents. But after the outbreak, it was now vastly upgraded, with a mobile decontamination unit. The canvas tents had been replaced with white medical ones. Off to one side, a pony in a protective suit was being rinsed down by a pressure shower and then checked for contamination.

One thing that caught Twilight’s attention though, was the change in the ground. Underhoof, it had always been soft, somewhat loose sand and gravel ever since they began. Now though it felt more solid and, looking down, it now seemed to be that same, all absorbing black that had made up the strange houses.

“What is this stuff?” Twilight asked, examining a now slightly stained hoof. Cherenkov smiled.

“That is how we knew where to dig, your highness. If you’d care to join me in a brief flight, I can show you.”

Nodding her ascent, Twilight opened her wings, and followed the pegasus into the air. Spike meanwhile, who was still uneasy, remained with Starlight.

Rising quickly in a near vertical climb, the pair quickly reached a couple thousand feet, just below the cloud base. Uncontrolled weather meant the clouds weren’t safe to land on. As they drew into a hover and looked down, Twilight saw what Cherenkov was getting at.

“Talk about ‘X marks the spot’ eh?” he said.

Far below them, stretching perhaps some two hundred metres across at its widest point, was a perfect circle in the ground. It was like a giant spot on the desert floor, that same inky, shadowy black.

“A marker of some sort?” Twilight suggested.

“We think so,” Cherenkov agreed. “From what we can tell, this entire structure is subterranean. There never was an above ground structure. We found the access point to the main chamber and corridor right by this strange black hole. It was a solid concrete plug. Only designed to be put in, not removed.”

“So there’s a sub-subterranean structure down there?” He nodded.

“I’ve seen things like this before in the jungle. It could be a burial site of some kind or perhaps a vault.”

“That would make sense given what Chief Thunderhooves said,” Twilight agreed. Cherenkov laughed.

“Ah yes, his ‘bad medicine’. It’s certainly fascinating that the place has entered their own cultural consciousness. They have no knowledge of who built it or why, but the knowledge that it was unsafe has stuck with them for millennia.”

“So what did your team find underground?” Twilight asked as the pair began to slowly descend back to the ground.

“From what we can tell, you go through the entrance we unearthed, and that leads to a long, straight corridor. That connects to several sealed chambers. We’d partially begun excavating one when the symptoms first appeared. We’ve done tests with the chemical suits and, in the corridor at least, they seem to protect ponies from any ill effects. I wouldn’t recommend staying down there too long though.”

“I’ll try casting a few protection and shield bubble spells as well,” Twilight said, her eyes still fixed on the black disc in the earth. “With any luck, we’ll be able to find out what it is that’s causing the illness. It must be some sort of contaminant, no naturally occurring disease could survive for as long as this place has been sealed away. I’d sure like to know who built it too.”

With that, the pair returned and landed. Their next step was obvious. But it wasn’t something Twilight was looking forward to. While the mystery fascinated her, everything she had seen so far had been trying to turn her back. All the way here, she’d felt an almost foal-like urge to turn and run. They had to find out what was going on though, or else three ponies might lose their lives.

Neither Spike nor Starlight were particularly happy when presented with the isolation suits they were to wear for the trip underground. They weren’t exactly thrilled with the idea of going underground full stop.

“Look,” Twilight said, trying to be reassuring. “Cherenkov has had other ponies down there, and the suits offer enough protection. I’ll keep a shield spell up, and Starlight can help me.”

“This whole thing only started when Cherenkov here opened whatever this place is. I say put the concrete plug back and bury it.”

Cherenkov scowled again. He was becoming more than a little irritated by the unicorn’s repeated criticism.

“You’re assuming that whatever it is can still be sealed away,” he pointed out. “For all we know, the excavation has permanently damaged whatever seal was in place to contain whatever it is that’s causing the illness in my team.”

“He’s right, Starlight,” Twilight said, once again placing herself between the two. “I agree, we need to find a way to seal away whatever this is. But to ensure we do it properly, we need to find out exactly what we are dealing with.”

Starlight made to say something in objection, but bit her tongue. That was probably the best Twilight was going to get. Truth be told, she was feeling the same way. But Cherenkov would answer to the Royal Archaeological Society later. So, after getting themselves suited up, the four of them headed down.

The chamber had no pre-existing light sources, functional or otherwise. It certainly hinted to Twilight that this place was meant to be sealed up and not reopened. As a result, the mouth of the entrance appeared to lead into total darkness. As if their journey so far hadn’t been unsettling enough. There were apparently some lanterns set up down there, but they had long since run out of power.

Leading the way, and with Spike perched atop her back for safety, Twilight activated her magic, enveloping the group in a magenta bubble, while Starlight used her own magic to provide additional light. Cherenkov meanwhile, brought up the rear.

It didn’t take long for it to become apparent that this wasn’t just some adapted cave. After descending down a short path, the group came upon a set of stairs, carved out of the earth. Though worn and uneven, carved into the rock face as they were meant there was minimal risk of collapse. The stairs descended in a square, spiralling pattern, and before long, the small shaft of light at the entrance was lost from sight, leaving them with only their horns for lighting. After five minutes of walking in total silence, taking care on each step, Spike spoke up.

“Jeez, how deep down does this thing go?” he asked, glancing over the edge, into the abyss and quickly regretting it.

“At a rough guess, I’d say about seven hundred metres,” Cherenkov said. “Certainly deep enough that the civilisation that built it had to have mining capabilities far beyond our own. This shaft alone would have taken years for ponies to dig out.”

“You don’t suppose it could be a gas deposit that caused the symptoms?” Twilight suggested, remembering what little she had read about coal mines.

“That was my first thought,” Cherenkov said. “But we checked carefully. There’s no gas deposits down here at all.” Twilight frowned.

At length, the group reached the bottom of the long spiral stairway. Before them was an equally foreboding tunnel which, according to Cherenkov, led out into the main chamber. The tunnel was narrow. Just wide enough for ponies to walk comfortably side by side. Twilight was struck by the odd formation of the tunnel too. The stairs they had just come down, and the shaft they were placed in had been carved out of the rock. The walls were smooth for the most part. Yet this tunnel seemed to be less well constructed. The walls were jagged and sharp. It took her a moment to realise why.

Suddenly, without warning, Spike let out a startled scream. Instinctively, Twilight briefly reared up on her hind legs and extended her wings. Before she could find out what the matter was though, Starlight too, let out a terrified shriek. Their combined movement and alarm briefly doused their magic and for a few seconds, the group thrashed around blindly. Luckily, Twilight managed to get her horn working again and gave light enough to see by.

Now it was her turn to let out a startled cry of alarm. Within the rock, seemingly all around them on every wall, were carvings. But these were not of shapes or words or symbols. They were faces. They reminded her somewhat of the strange bipedal creatures in the human world. But those had at least had some pony like qualities to them. They looked...well, normal. Each of these faces was, quite frankly, horrifying.

All around, each of them seeming to face the group as they advanced, were faces at almost every height. Not a single one smiled, or looked even neutral in their expression. Instead, each one held an expression of utmost horror. Some seemed to be ill, others just as alarmed or frightened as she was. But the one that scared all of them the most, was the largest and most prominent. It was staring at them, a look of absolute terror on its face. It’s mouth fixed open in an endless silent scream, while what looked like hands were clasped against either side of its face. The others were unnerving enough, but this one...Twilight felt an almost undeniable urge to turn and run.

“It’s alright! It’s alright!” Cherenkov shouted over the noise of the others. “They’re just carvings!”

After a few moments, sanity returned to them. All of them were breathing fast, their hearts racing.

“Sorry,” Cherenkov said as he too recovered. “We had the same reaction when we first came down here. More hostile design, just as you saw around the site.”

“What species is that?” Starlight asked in alarm

“We don’t know,” Cherenkov replied. “Presumably the beings that built this place. Another clever example of messages without words. It’s fascinating too how it produces the desired effect even on different species.”

“Yeah, fascinating,” Spike said sarcastically, blasting the screaming horror with a jet of flame.

From there, the group continued, still bombarded by unnerving faces. As in the eerie town, their minds began to play tricks on them. Twilight could have almost sworn that the eyes were watching them at times.

Other images appeared too. Not just faces. Lightning bolts seemed to be carved into the rock as well. Everything here was sharp and jagged, inherently invoking a sense of fear and danger.

“Whoever built this place, sure as hay wanted to keep ponies away,” Starlight reflected at they came to the end of the tunnel

“But why?” Twilight asked. “To protect something important? For all we know, this illness could be the result of some ancient booby trap.”

“Something tells me that there’s nothing good here,” Starlight replied.

At last, the three ponies and one dragon had reached the point where Dr. Fossil, Paleo, and Shutterbug had stood a few days earlier. No real attempt had been made to seal up the breach that had been created, due to risks of further exposure. Some scientific equipment however had been set up to take readings remotely. Twilight and Cherenkov now took turns to examine these.

They were simple enough instruments, measuring the air quality, temperature, pressure, as well as various measurements relating to magic and other forms of energy. The former offered little in the way of explanations. There was nothing different about the air itself, but other measuring devices yielded some insights.

“Look at this!” Twilight called out to the group. She was examining a small device, mounted about chest high, on a tripod.

“What is it, Twilight?” Starlight asked as the group huddled around.

“This is a device usually used in hospitals,” she explained.

“Yes, “Cherenkov added. “The first doctors brought it down to see if something was affecting Paleo’s magic, since that appeared to be one of the symptoms.”

“Right,” Twilight said with a nod. “It measures ambient magical energy to determine if anything is nearby that could affect a unicorn’s natural magic.”

“And is there?” Starlight asked. Twilight shrugged.

“Can you sense anything, Starlight?” The unicorn shook her head.

“No.”

“Neither can I. But according to this, something is emitting magical energy at over twenty times the normal background level.”

“So it isn’t an illness, right?” Spike asked.

“Exactly,” Twilight affirmed. “Somehow, this energy source is able to damage ponies internally and disrupt their magic.”

“But what is causing it?” Cherenkov asked. “Those things?” He gestured to the numerous pillars that filled the chamber.

“I’d say so,” Twilight agreed. “Although I still can’t fully explain what it is.”

“I think I can,” Starlight said, sounding further away.

The group turned around to find Starlight further down the long hallway, the glow of her horn just visible in the darkness. Leaving their place at the threshold, they hurried over to join her.

Starlight was standing facing the large rock wall about halfway down the passage. All around her, still sealed, were similar portal-like apertures. She was standing seemingly transfixed by something on the wall.

Over the course of the day, the group had encountered many wordless messages. All of them attempting to communicate a simple message; to turn around and stay away. As they had drawn closer to this place, these messages had increased in their urgency. But they had retained their simple content. Now though, Starlight seemed to have found something more complex, which might possibly explain everything.

The walls of this hallway were unusually high, perhaps some fifteen feet. The light of their horns allowed Twilight and Starlight to just about make out the smooth, carved out ceiling. This allowed for what may well be the final message of this strange place.

As with all the others, it made no use of words and letters, instead relying on symbols and images. There were four pictures, arranged in a grid like pattern; two on top and two on the bottom, forming a square.

“Huh, it’s like some giant, weird comic book,” Spike commented.

He wasn’t wrong, the pictures did seem to flow in a similar fashion, going from top left, to right, then across the bottom row in the same fashion. The first image was fairly devoid. A stick figure, which vaguely resembled the creatures in the world Twilight had visited, stood on a flat plane, near the top of the image. Its face was in a neutral expression. Underneath that, an arrow pointed downwards towards a large black rectangle near the bottom. And in the centre of this was a symbol Twilight didn’t recognise. It reminded her of a fan, or maybe a ship’s propeller. The second image showed the figure again, this time holding a shovel and having made a hole in the ground. Next to it, there was some sort of tower that seemed to be forcing some kind of pole into the ground. In the third frame, a multitude of the same strange symbol seemed to erupt from the ground, both where the figure had dug, and where the strange structure was. The figure’s face was now that same disturbing scream they had been so frightened by earlier. Finally, in the last image, these strange symbols seemed to spread out in all directions, while the stick figure lay on it’s side with an ill expression.

“I think this explains what happened,” Starlight said triumphantly, turning and pointing to the images. “I’d say this matches exactly what happened when your team opened up that chamber back there, wouldn’t you agree, Cherenkov?”

“It does,” he admitted. “We dug into this place and released...whatever this symbol means.”

“This one says it spreads further though,” Spike said worriedly, pointing at the last image.

“And it doesn’t say what to do if you expose yourself,” Twilight added. “Come on. If whoever built this place left a message like this, then it must have been extremely important to them. And if they made a message warning ponies all the way in here, then they must also have tried to communicate what to do now that we’re down here.”

And so the group began to press further in, to search for more answers.

It was curious, Twilight pondered to herself, that the messages warning them about whatever the ponies had stumbled on, seemed to get more complex and advanced as they moved further in. Outside, well away from this place, the messages were wordless, designed to unsettle and discourage anypony coming nearer. But down here, they’d found complex pictograms. And now it seemed that the messages became even more complex as they came to the far wall of the chamber. At long last, there was the written word.

Carved into the rock, which Twilight decided had to be granite, there was a lengthy message. In fact there were several. A total of seven identically sized tablets were fixed to the wall. The same message appeared to be repeated in multiple languages. Unfortunately, none of those languages were Ponish.

“Any ideas, Cherenkov?” the alicorn asked as she examined each of the tablets. They too had the same fan like symbol on them, along with two of the unsettling faces from before. Some words were larger than others, but she had no idea what they meant.

Cherenkov meanwhile carefully examined each of the tablets. After a few moments, he paused in front of one.

“Well, I can’t be sure,” he said. “But this one bears some resemblance to the language spoken in Saddle Arabia, and this one in Neighpon. Hay, this one from what I can make out bears a strong resemblance to the Buffalo written language, at least, one of their dialects.

“I recognise this one!” Starlight suddenly called out. She was at the furthermost left tablet. The others trotted over to join her.

“I didn’t know you studied ancient languages, Starlight,” Twilight said, sounding most pleased. The unicorn shook her head.

“I don’t,” she replied. “Don’t you recognise this, Twilight? This is the language from Sunset Shimmer’s world.”

The penny dropped for Twilight. She’d been obliged to learn it during her enforced stay in that world. And while not fluent, did find herself recognising the language.

“Of course!” she exclaimed. “How in Equestria did I not see that?”

“Mind translating then, your highness?” Cherenkov broke in.

And so, between the two of them, they began to translate the tablet. It took some time to convert everything into Ponish, and some words were quite alien to them. But after around half an hour, they had their answer. The message ran in this way.

‘DANGER! POISONOUS RADIOACTIVE WASTE HERE – DO NOT DIG OR DRILL

THIS REPOSITORY WAS USED TO BURY RADIOACTIVE WASTE AND HAZARDOUS MATERIALS. THE AREA IS 660 BY 810 METRES AND BURIED 655 METERS DOWN. THIS PLACE WAS CHOSEN TO PUT THESE DANGEROUS MATERIALS FAR AWAY FROM PEOPLE AND LIVING THINGS. THE ROCKS AND WATER IN THIS AREA MAY NOT LOOK, FEEL, OR SMELL UNUSUAL. BUT THEY MAY BE POISONED BY RADIOACTIVE WASTE AND HAZARDOUS MATERIALS. WHEN RADIOACTIVE MATTER DECAYS IT GIVES OFF INVISIBLE ENERGY THAT CAN DESTROY OR DAMAGE PEOPLE, ANIMALS AND PLANTS.

DO NOT DIG HERE. DO NOT DRILL HERE. DO NOT DO ANYTHING WITH THE ROCKS OR WATER IN THIS AREA.

DO NOT DESTROY THIS MARKER. THIS MARKER HAS BEEN DESIGNED TO LAST 10,000 YEARS. IF THE MARKER IS DIFFICULT TO READ, ADD NEW MARKERS COMPOSED OF LONGER LASTING MATERIALS AND COPY THIS MESSAGE INTO YOUR OWN LANGUAGE.

THIS SITE WAS KNOWN AS THE WIPP (WASTE ISOLATION PILOT PROJECT) SITE WHEN IT CLOSED IN 2030 AD. FOR MORE INFORMATION, GO TO THE SURFACE BUILDING AT THE CENTRE OF THIS AREA.’

“What surface building?” Cherenkov asked. "There’s nothing up there apart from that black circular slab.”

“Maybe it was destroyed, or collapsed?” Spike suggested, before turning to Twilight. “How old is this place then? When was 2030 AD?” Twilight shrugged.

“I have no idea,” she admitted. “Obviously their calendar system is different to ours. But it must be around ten thousand years.”

“Nine millennia before the princesses came to power,” Starlight noted.

“Fascinating,” Cherenkov said, deadpan. “But without that building, how are we supposed to help anypony fix this?”

“There’s more,” Twilight explained, a little tersely.

‘IF THE MESSAGES WITHIN ARE UNUSABLE, THEY HAVE BEEN DUPLICATED IN A ROOM BURIED 6 METERS DOWN 160 METERS NORTH OF THE BLACK WARNING MARKER. THE ROOM LOCATION IS ALSO MARKED BY A MAGNETIC SIGNATURE. DO NOT EXPOSE THIS ROOM UNLESS THE SURFACE BUILDING MESSAGES ARE LOST. LEAVE THIS ROOM BURIED FOR FUTURE GENERATIONS. IF THE ROOM BECOMES EXPOSED, PROTECT IT BY ADDITIONAL COVERING.’

As Twilight finished reading, the group stood in silence for a moment. To think, they were reading a message that had been made over ten thousand years ago. As far as they knew, there was nothing else left of this culture. But this message had somehow endured. They had made sure of that.

“Well, I think it’s clear what we need to do next,” Twilight said after a moment.

The group carefully made their way back to the passageway that led to the steps. They reflected that, if all went well, they would be the last living being ever to set foot in here.

The next week was a busy one for all concerned. While Starlight returned to Ponyville, Twilight and Spike remained, the former to oversee efforts, and the latter unwilling to leave his friend’s side. As per the message’s direction, they began by having a team of ponies repair the damaged concrete plug that blocked the entrance to the underground site. Once this was done, the levels of the dangerous radiation dropped almost down to nothing.

After that, the archaeological survey team successfully located and then exposed the backup information centre. And as promised, written in the same language, as well as several others, were reams of vital information. Included in this wealth of knowledge was the treatment for what was called ARS; advanced radiation sickness. While the three ponies affected would face a long road to recovery, it was recovery nonetheless.

Then came the question of what to do next. Obviously, the entire area was restricted. No entry by land or air for any reason. All maps were updated to mark the hazardous WIPP site. That would keep ponies out. But as with the original designers, Twilight also found herself considering the future.

What if something happened thousands of years from now? What if society changed so drastically that all records were lost? What if the knowledge of the danger disappeared. While the outer markings had been foreboding enough, they had not deterred enquiring minds. In fact, the mystery had only encouraged curiosity.

So instead of just trying to scare visitors away, and only warning specifically about the danger when they were so close to it, Twilight instead tried to find a way to educate visitors before they broke in and exposed themselves to the danger underground. So the ponies rebuilt the information centre as described in the records they found, only at the edges of the spike field and built several of them.

But while Twilight wanted to educate, as well as warn, she needed to ensure the message would be understood. The long, detailed descriptions found on the granite slabs may be too complex for a culture that could not unearth the site, but might still make their way here and be poisoned over time. So she sought to simplify the message. Carved onto a granite slab and protected by the most powerful and long lasting wards she could think of, she left this message for the future, to prevent history repeating itself.

‘This place is a message, and part of a system of messages. Pay attention to it!

Sending this message was important to us.

This place is not a place of honour. No esteemed deed is commemorated here. Nothing valued is here.

What is here is dangerous and repulsive to us. This message is a warning about danger.

The danger is in a particular location. It increases towards the centre. The centre of the danger is here, of a particular size and shape, and below us.

The danger is still present in your time, as it was in ours.

The danger is to the body, and it can kill.

The form of danger is an emanation of energy.

The danger is only released if you disturb this place. It must be left shunned and never inhabited.’

This was the message Twilight left, designed to last another ten millennia. But even she wouldn’t know if it would be understood at that most vital moment.

A couple of days later found Twilight and Spike on the train back to Ponyville. The young alicorn was dictating a letter to Spike, to be sent to Princess Celestia, updating her on the situation and its resolution.

“And I believe that this will ensure no further intrusions into the WIPP site’s controlled exclusion area occur in the future,” she was saying as the dragon dutifully jotted everything down with a quill.

“I hope we have done all that we can to protect ponies and other creatures from this danger,” she continued. “But I can’t help but wonder. Their designs scared away most ponies, but didn’t stop an inquisitive mind from exploring. I like to think that my own message will be better understood if it is ever needed, but I cannot be sure. After all, nopony knows what the future holds. I’m just glad that everypony is alive and well after this. The rest is up to the future. Your friend and fellow Princess, Twilight Sparkle.”

Spike then carefully rolled up the scroll of parchment he had been writing on, tied it with a red ribbon and affixed a seal to it, before enveloping it in his flame breath. The letter was instantly consumed and a moment later, the smoke and flame darted out of the open carriage window and off toward Canterlot.

“There,” the little dragon said, settling back into his seat. “Mission accomplished.”

“I hope so,” Twilight said. Spike looked at her, puzzled.

“What do you mean, Twilight? That vault is all sealed up. We’ve put new warning markers up, and everypony for miles around knows exactly what it is and how to protect themselves.”

“For now,” Twilight pointed out. “But think how knowledge can so easily be lost. The entire Crystal Empire vanished from existence, and only a few ponies remembered anything about it by the time it returned. Or Nightmare Moon. Even with Celestia as a living witness, most ponies thought it was just an old mare’s tale, if they’d heard of it at all. And that was just a thousand years. This message has to endure for ten times as long. I’m not sure it’s even possible.”

“You’ve done your best, Twilight,” Spike reassured her. “You said it yourself, it’s up to the future now.”

“Yeah,” Twilight said with a nod, gazing out of the carriage window. “I wonder what it will be like.”

Author's Note

Proofread by Alden MacManx.

Happy Halloween, All Hallows Eve, and Nightmare Night, everypony.

I got inspired to write this after listening to a short documentary entitled 'The Nuclear Priesthood' on BBC Radio 4.

The WIPP is a very real project, and all of the obstacles Twilight and the others encountered are suggested ideas for deterring our far flung future descendants from interfering with long term nuclear storage sites. I didn't even touch on the idea of genetically modifying domestic cats to glow bright colours in the presence of radiation or the creation of a pseudo religious order that would pass down the knowledge of the repositories through myth and superstition.

We still don't really know what to do with garbage that will be deadly for a period of time longer than human civilisation has existed to say nothing of places like Chernobyl. The two schools of though are to either deter, or to educate those who stumble across it. But we have no way of knowing if they will be from a futuristic utopia, who have ways of making the waste harmless, or scavengers regressed to the Bronze Age by some terrible war or natural disaster. Heck, they may not even by human at all, as we've seen.

What do you think? What do we do about the problem of storing such dangerous material and ensuring the safety of our descendants? Will signs like this be enough?