The midday sun shone brightly at a sprawling grove of apple trees, a single pony tending to acres upon acres of farmland. The mare's orange coat looked faded from the sunlight, the daily grind of running the farm almost single-hoofedly leaving its mark. The mare trotted through her orchard, mentally taking note of the condition of her apple trees, a fair bit of them were getting wilt this time of year, which spelled bad news for the fall harvest. So concentrated on the health of her trees, the mare didn't notice a pony standing in her way, resulting in a head-on collision.

Thankfully, said pony turned out to be none other than Big Mac, the stallion's frame not budging at the crash, his hoof catching his sister from planting her rump in the grass. Applejack shook her head as her brother helped the mare get back on her hooves, ready to mouth her thanks.

"Got something on your mind?" The red stallion asked, his expression as impassive as ever.

Applejack pursed her lips, drawing the stetson to cover her face. "It's nothing." The stallion sighed in response, with an almost imperceivable shake of his head.

"You ain't getting better at lying, sis." He didn't push any further, but he didn't need to, the deafening silence doing the job for him.

"You know how the family reunion's in a few months?" Applejack asked the question rhetorically. "Ditzy delivered the mail monday mornin'." She paused, searching for the right words. "They have a list of all the family members, the ones who are coming marked by a red tick." Her mouth felt dry, the heat of the sun having nothing to do with it.

"You're worried about Braeburn." He stated, not missing Applejack's confused expression. "I've read the mail."

"He never skips reunions! Never!" Applejack exploded, several days of quiet worry finally realised. "Even if he couldn't make it this year, he would've sent a letter or something!" She bit her lip, pawing at the ground with her hoof. A silence settled over the duo, broken by the stallion's carefully chosen words.

"Why don't you go pay him a visit?" He offered. "It's been high time since you girls had a little adventure."

"But the farm-" Applejack prepared a heated retort, only to be cut short by her brother's strong voice.

"Won't collapse while you're away." His words did little to soothe the farm pony, that is, until he continued. "I'm fine with running the farm for a little while, and Applebloom's no filly either." Sensing his sister's idescision, Bic Mac put a hoof on her shoulder. "We'll be fine, I promise."

Applejack didn't answer, tоo busy planning a very stern talking to for her cousin.

Redheart winced as a series of coughs rattled the silence of the serology lab, the mare breaking away from her work to check up on the source of the cough. Clover Fields sat on the tile floor of a hastily assembled isolation chamber, hunched over as a coughing fit ravaged his body. The doctor felt a stab of guilt as she watched the stallion wipe the red off his face, his tired eyes focusing on the mare.

"Don't you worry none about me, Red." His attempt at an encouraging smile fell flat on its face. "It's just a little cough." He didn't believe his own words as they left his mouth. Noticing his attempt at placating the doctor had failed, he took a deep, ragged sigh. "I've lived a good life, filly. I helped folks, paid my tithes, got to see my grandfoals." His voice didn't sound sad, moreso accepting of the situation. "If whatever you're doing is going to help more folks like me? Then I'm happy to do whatever." He finished, content.

Redheart was unnerved.

She didn't want to tell him, by the Sun she didn't, but whatever was plaguing him left her no choice. Upon first examination, Redheart logically concluded that the thing that's been plaguing him was a bacteria, although a very peculiar one. It had a thick membrane commonly seen in plant cells, but had a list of organelles typically consistent with that of an animal cell. Vowing to look into the strange cell structure once again when things settled down, the mare decided to attempt antibiotic treatment. She took blood samples every few hours to track the presence of the antigen in the body, only to be confused as the number slowly climbed higher, unphased by either the mark of the drug nor the dosage.

Undeterred by her initial failings, she attempted an antifungal treatment, both internal and external ones, to no avail. The oral medicine had no positive effect, only making the patient nauseous, while the different salves she tried did nothing but make the black plates growing over Clover's legs slippery.

It was only after the stallion accidentally chipped off one of the black splinters, did the mare get a chance to study the growth. She couldn't see anything through the microscope, the thick piece didn't let any light through, but when she tried to test its reactivity, she stumbled upon something fascinating.

No matter what she threw at it, from acids to lyes, it remained inert. She theorised the material may be susceptible to high temperatures or pressure, but she had no way to confirm or disprove that possibility. That uncertainty had only piled up in the past few days, drawing the mare's nerves into a taut line. Redheart hated uncertainty, the odds mounting against Appleloosa General, and by proxy, her, making the mare seriously consider calling the nearest big city for support.

It didn't guarantee Canterlot would actually answer, but at the very least, it put Appleloosa on their radar, and that was a start.

Redheart closed her eyes for just a moment, a brief moment of respite the mare allowed herself in these trying times, only to be violently dragged from her tranquility by a low growling noise coming from behind her, followed by the clanking of carapace against metal.

I floated in the vast emptiness of my dream, patiently waiting for one of my alarms to ring, notifying me of anything of importance happening. Having enough time to ponder on important matters, my train of thought eventually carried me to reminiscing about my old body, something I really needed to think about if I ever wanted to inhabit it again.

Despite full-body reconstruction being way beyond me at that point, I understood the need of a point of reference, the free time I had allowing me to really think of what I looked like, and what I wanted to look like. I searched my memories for a shape that resembled me, confused when the search came up empty. Taking the task into my metaphorical hands, I tried to recall the last time I’ve seen myself, soon enough stumbling onto one from not too long ago.

I stood in a closed off cubicle, a bunch of differently colored plaid flannel shirts hanging off the nearest hanger. Royalty free music blasted through the speakers outside the enclosed space, periodically mixed with some sort of advertisement, be it a new collection or a final sale. This memory wasn't all that ancient, but it might as well have been from a lifetime ago. I sighed, turning to observe myself in the mirror.

Only to see nothing.

In place of a reflection stood a mass of black fog, shifting and popping in and out of existence. I craned my neck, squinting and moving closer to peer through the fog, only for it to mirror my actions, unsurprisingly, might I add. I looked down at my hands, billowing fog replacing my limbs.

It whirled and twisted, solidifying into a thick black layer that crept from the tips of my fingertips, pins and needles accompanying it as the substance covered me whole. I raised my head to look in the mirror, only to see a sight that was both familiar and alien.

Layers of thick carapace covered my body, not an inch of skin visible under the biological armor. Long, sharp spikes jutted out of my arms, extending past the back of my palm. It crept up my neck, several layers of hardened material protecting my vital points. Instead of a face was a set of armored plates layered atop one another, hard outlines of skull staring back at me with overgrown eye sockets. In a sense, it was perfect, nigh invincible and most likely quite efficient in combat.

The Apex.

I tilted my head and the mirror image followed, I knocked the carapace of my face, and so did the doppelganger. I took a cautious step towards the mirror, gliding the palm of my hand over the smooth, cold surface. The reflection grabbed my hand with a vice-like grip, harshly pulling me towards the silver surface. I thrashed against its iron grasp, but all my efforts were in vain, as each moment of resistance only brought me closer to my own reflection.

I was almost face to face with whatever was pulling me, when I felt a painful squeeze of my shoulder, dozens of sharp objects hooking into my flesh, going through the carapace like a hot knife through butter. I yelped as I was wedged from the creature's grasp with a sharp pull, my reflection uttering an aggravated howl, left with but a few plates of carapace to gnaw on.

I looked over the shoulder to thank my savior, only to be left at a loss for words once again. A gaunt, brown-haired figure wearing tattered pijamas stared at me with its sad, sunken eyes. Tiny black splinters peppered the figures arms and legs, subtly shifting as if in agitation. I looked at myself in stunned silence, struggling to process what was going on.

Was this my true appearance? Or was it the best I could picture myself after being alone for Lord knows how long? Was it just a memory? In any case, it was clearly a human.

The Human.

The monster in the mirror growled in anger, swiping at the surface, sending a spider web of cracks cascading from the other side. A horrible gurgling sound came from the ragged frame of my savior as the splinters threatened to slice his trachea to shreds.

I wasn't sure what it wanted to say, but a sickening choking noise was all I heard as its cloudy eyes bore into my soul, a strange mix of resentment and pity leveled my way. In a blink of an eye the world around me was rent asunder, shattering into innumerable little pieces. Whatever footing I had went with it, leaving me to plummet into the nothingness below, the scene from before dissipating into a long forgotten mirage, the surrounding darkness swallowing me whole.

I cannot exactly tell when I came to, for when I did my surroundings changed little, the only tell of me being in the waking world once more, being the myriad of little tingles, ready to follow my command. Among these uniform signals, one stood solitary, his unique properties reaching my mind after a moment's recollection. Right, ensure my survival first, think about weird dreams later.

Taking a deep breath, I fired the neural pathways of the creature, the now unusual sense of sight hitting me like a tidal wave. The ringing in my ears subsided as suddenly as it appeared, giving way to the drone of fluorescent lamps, accompanied by the clinking of glass and periodic groans of pain. Speaking of, pain was just as unpleasant as I remembered, although easily avoidable with a couple of safeguards installed.

It was almost laughable, the hastily cobbled together enclosure they kept my breacher in, the pitiful structure most definitely undeserving of the blaze of glory I designed this one for. A shaky step and a tentative strike successfully cracked the flimsy cage, as well as garnered the attention of a familiar mare. She turned sharply towards me, her sapphire blue eyes wide as dinnerplates.

"Clover Fields?" She asked, her voice uncertain as she no doubt noticed the scowl on the breacher's face, his sickly eyes boring into her own.

A hoof shattered the glass wall of the enclosure they kept my little breacher in, sending a myriad of shards raining down on the floor. The mare backpedaled towards the door, never breaking eye contact.

A deafening screech tore through the throat of the thing that used to be Clover Fields, the freshly made breacher galloping towards the mare, the flesh on his back pulsating, turning crimson as his blood pressure spiked.

Red Heart fell out of the room, slamming the wooden door in my breacher's face, the surface cracking as it met the thick carapace. Just as Clover Fields gurgled, the nitroglycerin charge ready to go off, I forced his pulse to slow, inhibiting the reaction before it reached critical mass.

I could've easily blown this door to pieces, but that felt like a waste of resources when more conventional means would have sufficed. An armored hoof tore a sizable hole through the barrier, revealing the form of an utterly terrified Redheart. Broken from her stupor by my advance, she shot to her hooves, galloping down the corridor.

I barreled through the door, sending bits and pieces flying through the pristine white corridor, and took chase. Blood pumped through my veins, muscles stretched and contracted, lungs yearned for oxygen in a sensation so familiar, yet so distant. I let myself get lost in the overwhelming wave of physical feedback, the rush of adrenaline giving way to the rush of the chase.

Redheart was never more terrified for her life than she was at that moment, running through the halls of her beloved hospital, a monster hot on her tail. That was all the creature was - a monster, something the mare kept telling herself as she rounded a corner.

Head spinning and lungs burning, she almost collided with one of the doctors, the stallion catching Redheart as she was about to collapse.

"Head Redheart?!" He helped the mare stay upright, holding her as she motioned him to keep moving, gasping for air. "What's going on, are you hurt?"

They hobbled into his office, the door shutting down behind them with a heavy thud. The stallion was about to repeat his question, when Redheart spoke. "Barricade the door, use everything you have." She got to her hooves, the two of them struggling to move a large book cabinet in front of the door.

Just in time, it turned out, as a moment later the whole cabinet shook under the weight of a heavy blow, the monster throwing its body against the obstruction.

"Major?" Redheart broke the stallion out of his momentary stupor, the stallion turning to face her. "Can you teleport?" He nodded. "How far?"

"Well-" The two of them flinched as another blow shook the bookcase. "At the very best? Maybe halfway through the town. But I can only get one of us there, it's not my forte..."

"Right." Redheart took a deep breath, ignoring the growls and screeches from outside the room. "You need to get as close to the train station as possible: hop on the first train to Canterlot, tell the Princess' we've got a situation on our hooves." He was about to protest, but the mare raised her hoof. "Don't worry about me, this is far more important. Besides, there's enough furniture here to block that door for good." He nodded shakily, a pine green aura enveloping his horn.

"Stay put, Redheart. I'll get help!"

A loud pop followed by the displacement of air brought me to my senses, my hoof stopping mere inches from the door.

They can teleport.

Of-fucking-course they can teleport.

I scanned through the memories of this particular breacher for the location of the train station and to my dismay, found the neural connections in his brain in the early stages of deterioration.

Great, my first breacher is a senile old stallion man.

Thankfully, the rest of my brood possessed the necessary information, rendering this particular individual of no use. Truth be told, I could've sent him to regroup with the others for a coordinated attack on the station, but his chances to reach the station were quite slim.

I've gotten too invested in that little chase earlier, burning through a critical amount of energy, leaving this one a dead man trotting walking.

At the very least, this one will go out in a blaze of glory... Well, more like in a mist of bone shards and chunks of soft tissue.

Eh, close enough.

It's a pity I never got to see that little mare's expression, seeing an explosion from this close must've been unforgettable.

Cutting the optical feed I felt the uncomfortable sense of vertigo assault my senses, the void of my solitary confinement surrounding me once again.

Funnily enough, I felt oddly disoriented, perhaps I spent too much time in that old man's head. Gotta act now, I'll make sense of this later.

I called out to my servants, ordering all available breachers to assault the train station, directing half of all available grunts to act as support, while the other half scouted the town proper, infecting everyone they could, all the while searching for a good place to set up shop.

Making changes on an individual level is beyond ineffective. If I automate the terraforming function and make the whole system self-sustaining without my conscious input, I could explore further avenues of mutation in peace.

Step one: make sure the train never leaves the station.

Major Fracture's lungs were on fire, the stallion galloping for his life through the silent streets of Appleloosa. This silence wasn't meant to last, and he knew it. He heard commotion, followed by screams and distinctly unequine howls coming from the hospital after he teleported, the sheer magical toll the spell took on his mana reserves making him lightheaded.

Still, he had to pull through, if not for Redheart, then for Appleloosa. Maybe for all of Equestria. He didn't like that thought one bit.

Fracture felt a shiver go down his spine, something deep and primal yelling at him to duck. He did so just in time, as no more than a moment later, something dark and heavy flew right where his head had been, missing the stallion by a hair's breadth. The unicorn heard his attacker hit the ground with a sickening crack, followed by one last breath.

Not slowing down, even for a moment, Fracture cast a quick look behind him, the view invigorating him further.

Around a dozen of vaguely pony-shaped things galloped towards the unicorn, their bodies teeming with thin black spikes protruding in odd angles. By Celestia's mercy he only saw a couple of faces, none of them of ponies he knew all too well, but what he'd seen would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Faces contorted with anger, teeth gnashing to the point of breaking, pink eyes leering at him with murderous intent. They weren't ponies any longer, more akin to some wicked creatures of Tartarus.

It's no wonder then, that Fracture had felt a second wind within him, just as the station reared its sign in the distance.

He clocked movement to his right, dodging a stallion barreling towards him with a well time burst of speed. He heard his attacker collide with a saloon to his left, the wooden structure collapsing on top of his attacker. A teal unicorn threatened to nip at Fracture's tail, but just as the opportunity presented itself the monster froze in place, its eyes going wide, a stream of blackish liquid pouring out of its mouth.

Major Fracture ran through the as of yet empty station, going straight for the driver's cab. The metal door of the locomotive shut close behind him with a heavy thud, the stallion coming face to face with a very confused enginemare.

"Drive! Straight to Canterlot, no stops!" He hollered, the mare struggling to come up with a rebuttal as a barrage of vicious hits assaulted the door.

As I hurled blood and bile onto the dusty streets of this backwater, middle-of-bumfuck-nowhere town, I reached several conclusions.

Number one: I needed more practice with changing points of view. While my lack of a vestibular system should've rendered me immune to the perils of vertigo, the sodded sensation simply refused to cease, even after I cut the link with one of my offspring, letting the poor mare hurl a mix of blood and breakfast in peace.

Conclusion number two: A better way to gather and assay incoming information had to be devised, I've had it with either being blind but knowledgeable, or overwhelmed with sensations. It took a moment to visualise several clusters of 'monitors'. each cluster separated by the type of 'unit' it was receiving the feed from. At that moment they were the only beacons I could physically see, however that worked, amidst the sea of black.

Still, it was a start.

It seemed I had finished just in time to see the fruits of my labour, so to speak. Juxtaposing the visual data with a mental map of the city, I watched as a group of breachers gathered around a number of columns supporting a railroad bridge over a deep ravine.

Perhaps, not all was lost.

Fracture's hasty explanation was cut short by a great tremor shaking the locomotive. The enginemare cast a glance out of the window, her eyes growing wide as dinnerplates. Before he could clarify the situation, she galloped towards the door separating the locomotive itself from the wagons, throwing it open and tinkering with something he couldn't quite see.

He watched as the wagon slowly drifted away from the locomotive, before being suddenly yanked downwards just as the train made it across the bridge. The bridge in question followed the discarded cargo, plummeting down into the vast ravine just behind the locomotive.

Major Fracture whispered his thanks to Celestia before exhaustion took over, the stallion letting himself rest, if for a moment.

Fuck-a-doodle-doo.

I would've taken out my anger on the ones responsible for letting the messenger escape, but seeing as the guilty party was out of my jurisdiction, this mortal plane be damned, the only person I could've pinned the blame on, was myself.

Conclusion number three: I had to reconsider my priorities.

The shared memory banks suggested I had about two days before that train reached Canterlot, a little over twenty four hours if they skipped all the stops, and a fraction of that time if they stopped at the nearest town with a telegraph station. Point is, I wouldn't have been able to fend off a full frontal assault, considering they probably had divisions specialised in magic, something I still had very little grasp on.

What I had, however, was a town all to myself and the freedom and imagination to craft something useful out of its denizens. For a precious few hours, these ponies were clay in my hands.

And by God, I was going to make most of it.

"What do yall mean you don't know when's the next train gonna be?" Applejack asked the exasperated ticket seller, the stallion clearly tired of answering the same question for the whole morning.

"I'm sorry, miss, but I don't know the full story. What I do know is that all communication by rail was cut with Appleloosa." He said in a tired voice, checking his timetable once again. "We'll be sure to notify you when the situation is resolved."

She huffed, frustration mixing with worry as she wondered what exactly was going on in Appleloosa.

Author's Note

I'm alive, go figure.