Name: The Talisman of Exile
Object class: Inanimate - Talisman/Amulet
Magical Properties: Charmed, Hex subcategory
Threat level: Bothersome
Approximate age: Created somewhere around 50 to 30 BLB, a probable Starswirl The Bearded experiment.
Description: A hexagonal pendant approximately five centimeters across carved from a hip bone of a deceased specimen of male Unicorn, most probable reason being enchantment retention, suspended from a simple leather strap of no easily discernable magical properties. Recognizable by the colorful enchantments written in Old Atileic runic alphabet covering its entire surface.
Upon activation immediately bonds itself to the magical signature of an individual and cannot be taken off by him. In its primary function, it bars the one wearing it from entering any area specified by the one putting the amulet on the person. In its centuries of existence used to keep dangerous individuals of special interest far from Equestrian soil in case any other containment methods failed or were otherwise unavailable.
Advised Action: Search & Retrieve. Resident scry didn’t sense the target moving, so it’s almost certain you’re going to find it buried underground or in some long forgotten cave still upon the skeletal remains of the last unfortunate “owner”.
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Agent Addendum: Seriously, Amber? A... probable Starswirl experiment? He’s back among us living, just ask him about it for Celestia’s sake! I don’t know if you categorized this one or was it Archer, but if it was him, tell that scrawny coat hanger I’m going to kick him in the ass next time I see him. You’re Archivists, label your stuff properly and stop making our job, mine specifically, more difficult... please.
- Agent 8
...
That oughta show them. Or maybe even teach them something, if he’s lucky enough.
...
What was he saying, of course they’re not gonna learn. They’re Archivists. It’s in their nature to remain stagnant, unchanging as the old books and papers they guard for untold millennia.
You know, you’d think that ponies so intellectually inclined would be more logical in their approach to proper.. well, archival procedures. But no. Why wound they, when you can be as crazy as a circus monkey and so all over the place like an off-balance dreidel.
”If Princess Celestia didn’t handle our budget directly...”
As the warm flames of his campfire danced around with the wind and licked the edges of his recent addition, they eagerly licked at their freshly added wooden supper. He had half a mind to just toss another one of the official documents into the depths of the roaring fire, making some red hot embers very happy.
But no. He shouldn’t. Twice in a row was a pattern.
Instead, maybe he should just swipe some Liquid Luck the next time he’s in the vaults. Add some to his morning coffee, right before suggesting that Amber and the rest of those Scribes, Archivists, Paper Priests whatchamacallits organize and rewrite the whole Archive. By hoof, no magic.
Dishonorably discharged? Maybe. *sniff*... Maybe. Remembered by the whole Bureau as a legend?
Certainly.
...
He should turn in for the night. The sun has gone behind the horizon and there’s still at least half a day of road ahead of him, so he has to get up early.
Let no one ever say that Agent 8 is less efficient than the rest.
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Only a few dozen meters more and he will be there.
Wherever there was. The scrying of the royal glorified fortune teller was either very precise or near utterly useless.
Agent 8 supposed he drew some short straw this time around. As he tended to do.
”Always harsh wind in the eyes of poor Agent Eigh- wait a dang minute. I’m alone on this assignment. So my name is mother given Ardent Point if I feel like it,” Ardent thought to himself, hoping that he would be stuck with his own thoughts for too- long... huh...
It seamed he wouldn’t be.
”Open...” *WHAM* ”...sesame... ” *WHAM* ”...you stupid... ” *WHAM* ”..bubble!”
Huh. It was a sight one doesn't see everyday.
Unless someone saw an aquamarine stallion slamming quite a sizable branch against a straw yellow bubble of magical energy holding him hostage in a cave in the middle of nowhere every other day. Ardent debated letting him tire out before engaging, but from what he saw, the stallion wasn't peak of health anyway. Certainly no match for an agent of the bureau. Here they go.
”The Heck you're doing?”
The branch stopped abruptly mere centimeters from striking the translucent shield once more, its wielder looking around in panic before his eyes found the brown coated white maned stallion dressed in an x-style leather barding, many pockets surely full of useful tools. Dangerous tools.
”And you are you?!” The scared pegasus asked quickly, drooping the branch in haste and fumbling around his travel cloak for a hoof knife he had strapped to his right foreleg.
...Somewhere.
”Woah.. easy there Mr. Fight Club,” Aiden said while raising his forehoof appeasingly in order to calm the stranger down. ”I'm not going to hurt you. Here,” He pulled out his Agency ID faster than the other stallion could react. ”I'm a government official, here on a mission. I can help you if you tell me what's going on here, alright?”
While the trapped stallion didn't recognize the.. whatever CRB was, he seemed to scan the document for a few seconds before coming back to his cautious apprehension. Apparently the stallion wasn't all hot air too, as he somehow managed to pull out his knife without Ardent noticing, now brandishing it proudly and wheezing like an ox, stress eating him alive. Slowly, he calmed his breath, only to drop his blade into dirt suddenly and sit heavily on his backside in defeat.
”It's been hoho-rible!” Cloaked stallion wailed suddenly, his waterworks giving a full on performance in a split second.
"Oh boy..."
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”And then you decided to just... hit it? With a log you found?”
He wasn't proud of it, but the now introduced Wither (what an unfortunate name) admitted it freely. ”What else could I have done?” He starred into the flames of a campfire lit by his chance companion outside the cave while he ate the rest of the travel ration given to him. After all, the barrier only kept him inside, the objects able to pass freely. As such, he poked a wayward stick he found on his side into the embers present on the other side of the barrier. ”I'm a pegasus. I know there are obscure magicks I could learn while not being a unicorn, but I'm no mage.” He stopped to think and chew the consistently uniform yet nutritious gruel. ”I was.. desperate.”
”Hey, no blame here,” Aiden said truthfully. ”Believe me, I've seen much worse... and been there myself. Multiple times,” He too admitted without remorse. Pride was the thing he lost first, years ago.
Wither, though... Colt, oh Colt. What an utterly unusual and wholly unfortunate story.
And Aiden knew it was true. The stallion had no other choice but to come clean.
Witherfront, his full name, was a small time thief back in Trottingham, regularly shunned and ostracized because of his.. hmm.. profession. Not that he wanted or liked to steal, but beetween his ailing mother and severely alcoholic father, he and his two brothers did what they had to... Wither apparently better than the other two, considering he was alive... and they were not.
Ultimately, his many colorful criminal escapades landed him a one way ticket out of Equestria, courtesy of the Count of Trottingham. Wither clearly punched way above the weight class that he should have and you make that kind of a mistake only once.
Now that he was banished, never to see his family or country ever again, his initial plan was to try his luck in Klugetown. Climb up the ladder, try to organize some semblance of a life for himself. Yet before he could reach the town or even the desolate deserts of southern Equestria, he got lost with the forests of Macintosh Mountains. As luck would have or the lack of it, he stumbled upon a cave he planned to spend the night in just so he would freeze. Yet then there was a skeleton inside and and some nice loot on him..
Skeleton holding an ancient artifact within a remote cave, huh? ...blasted Archivists and their near clairvoyant accurate predictions... wait a second...
Dammit. He owed Agent Four a drink now and his sense of righteousness won't let him lie... the prick better enjoy his over-sweetened Poña Colada.
Instead of stashing it away Wither put the amulet on, got spooked by a flock of awakened bats and subconsciously ordered the amulet to ban him from being where the bats were... but by then the bats were outside. Unfortunately, ancient magic like this was most often either very literal or purely poetic. Intricacies of modern language not designed to interact with the ancient spells notwithstanding.
50/50 to say it's your unlucky day.
Guess the bluish stallion pulled wrong on this particular one hoofed bandit.
Always someone to have a shit day.
So they were, they sat, two stallions on two sides of a barrier impenetrable to any but the most magically gifted residents of this planet of theirs. Eating and enjoying the warmth of a proper fire out in the wilderness.
The heat passed the barrier too, in case you wondered. Otherwise Wither would suffocate, sooner or later.
Aiden wished he could say it was the first time it happened to him... but then again, he was an Agent of the CRB. Alright. He should resolve this situation now. For both of their sakes.
”Tell me Wither...” He asked of the other stallion. ”...are you a good Pony?”
A brief silence was his answer.
”...what kind of question is that?!” Wither shouted, his poking stick and leftover tasteless ration quickly forgotten.
”The kind that is sadly rather common in my line of work.” Aiden revealed calmly, now observing the other individual with careful scrutiny, his friendly attitude gone and behavior shifted. ”A stallion locked away by a unbreakable barrier in a cave in the middle of nowhere, begging to be let out,” He stood up, only to look his companion in they eyes while he lay down on the grass in front of the barrier. ”I do this long enough that my experience dictates caution. You could have told me the truth or... you could be a ancient daemon lying and deceiving me, only to reveal its true form and slit my throat mere seconds after I let him out.”
The bluish pony sat in silence for a bit before asking, ”How can I defend against that?”
”You can't,” Agent Eight admitted. ”Now you're upon my mercy and it's entirely my decision if you live or die.”
...
”And it's your lucky day it would seem. Bring me the bone of that skeleton you pilfered, any bone.”
Surprised and bewildered Wither wanted clarification, ”Bone?”
”Since the person that imprisoned you was, well.. you, you can't wish the hex away,” He explained while getting up. ”Ancient unperfect magic rules mumbo jumbo. Setting you free will require a ritual and for that, I need some part of the previous owner of the amulet.”
”Wait.. Ritual? You're an earth pony though.” Wither was rather confused. How did he expect to-
”Didn't you say something akin to "I know there are obscure magicks I could learn while not being a unicorn"?” He smiled with pity, as he did many times before. ”Let's just say, I had way more time and opportunities to learn than you did.”
They stayed interlocked in the gazing contest for a few seconds before one of them broke. ”Okay,” Wither said. ”Some bones coming right up.”
While the trapped stallion fetched a piece of the deceased, Aiden just prayed he was right once again and not just happened to meet a particularly crafty spawn of underworld.. or even worse, from Beyond.
If you asked him, It was almost funny, on some... highly twisted cosmic level. In its core design, the whole Bureau is supposed to find and retrieve artifacts of all kinds so that they don't endanger The Ponykind.. or any other races... Nothing more or less.
...While most often they end up battling the highly magical or superbly spiritual and purely paranormal for the possession of an artifact that summons a single and very horny feminine half-succubus that couldn't hurt any of its "boys" even if it wanted to... Then again, sometimes there happens to be some occasional demigod trapped in a random obsidian that wants to end the world and bring about the Apocalypse. Sometimes. It happened at least a few times.
Sometimes there's no adversary at all and the highly mystical staff summons a single carrot.
50/50 on the danger scale. Roughly.
At least the Canterlot Castle never runs out of carrots now... but don't tell the carrot farmers that one... or Chef Rumare. The carrots are probably not organic, and she would be mad. You do not want a mad cook.
”A single rib, coming right up.”
The bone slid on the ground, almost touching Aiden's hoof before stopping just short. Cause you know... the barrier was still magical and acted on things as such. So it would happen, he had something to throw too, just in case.
”Here. Stash it away so it doesn't get damp.” Aiden threw the rest of his rations across the barrier, Wither swiftly catching them all.
”What? Why? We just ate.” He said matter-of-factly.
”I know. But I'm an earth pony using magicks while being no mage. The smirk Aiden displayed was tremendous.
”Make yourself comfortable, because it's going to take quite a while.”
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...
”How about now?”
Aiden had to admit, either the demon he chose to help was really good or the stallion was the most pony pony he could meet out here.
Provided, anyone could get rather impatient on his second day without-
”Asking every half an hour will not make it any faster,” He answered from the middle of his runic circle. He just hoped a triple shielded septagram would do. Otherwise he would have to get reinforcements and that would be embarrassing. Andddd... he would lose another bet. So, no. 'Aint happening.
”I know that,” Wither said. ”But I don't have any way to know how close you are, now do I?”
He had him there.
He just hoped that-
Suddenly the barrier covering the entrance to the cave shattered like a dropped wine glass into a million tiny shards, it's magic essence dispelling into the surrounding air uselessly. Wither looked on in wonder until he felt something tickling his coat. Looking down, he saw the cursed amulet glowing weakly for a bit just before it started to crumble away into dust, carried away with an invisible wind only to disappear and disintegrate completely after a meter or so.
Just like that, Witherfront was free.
He could feel the wind on his face again. He smelled the coniferous trees of the forest, he saw a squirr-
”Well, I'm still alive. So I guess that means my gamble paid off.” Whether Aiden wanted it or not, it was time to become Agent Eight again. ”Come on now. We have quite a way ahead of us.”
”Wait a minute,” Wither did not understand and the other stallion was only getting further away. ”Not that I'm not grateful for the rescue, but I'm kind of banished if you don't remember.”
”Oh, no worries,” Agent Eight answered. ”We're going to a place where the word of Count Trottingham means diddly squat.”
”Well...” A decision was made. ”Count me in then.”
...
”Does this happen often to you?”
”Does what happen often to me?”
”The... demon thing,” Wither inquired. ”If you were serious about that, it must have happened at least once, right?”
”...Classified.”
”All right, all right.” Wither knew when to throw in the towel as he rose his hooves in defeat. ”Keep your secre-”
”But more often than you would think.” Though before his temporary companion had any chance to ponder the statement, Aiden continued talking. ”Before we go too far though... if we trot off course a bit, there's a stream an hour or so from here. And believe me.” He was legitimately entertained for the first time in a few days.
”Where we're going... you better be clean... -ish.”
”...Word.”
Author's Note
MONGOLIAN FREE VARIATION SELECTOR THREE
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'Aight. So, I had an idea for a fic one sunny day, as I often tend to do.
Halfway across writing the first chapter I realized something and asked myself - "Wait... isn't what I wrote basically a slightly altered pony version of SCP Foundation from the eyes of a common soldier? ... eh, too late now, I'm invested. I'll make it work somehow."
Thus here we are.
After all, the first step to writing a great sonata is to steal it from another composer.
And before anyone asks about the translation of the drink name, yes. In this universe it's Poneapple. Deal with it ...I'm not apologizing.
Also yes, the page stop or whatever those are called is a rough shape of the current chapter's focus... I tried. Formatting is weird and BBcode is hard, I ain't a cowputer guy.
And it's going to change every chapter with a different artifact because I decreed so. I just hope unicode has enough symbols for my dumb ass.
The first and second chapters are done. Third is about 70% done and I'm starting the fourth one. I think I found my niche though, which is nice. I get to be both edgy and sometimes funny, while making something that interest me.
On the bad side, Grammarly turned their model to pure profit and they suck big cock now. You want monies, fine my dudes. Just warn us the normal users first, you blood sucking witches.
...
...
Also, yes. Heck is capitalized.
Guess why.
Name: The Book of All Stories
Object Class: Spellbook/Grimoire
Magical Properties: Enchanted, Supposed Powerleech <--[One mention in The Archives, hypothesis without proof]
Threat level: Worldeater
Approximate age: Older than we can estimate by any means available to Ponykind at this time, as it's quite possible it's not even Pony-made... as in, it predates us as a species. Discord unhelpful when questioned.
Description: I- I've... I'll be honest, I don't even know where to start with this one Aid- Agent 8. The only reason you're getting this assignment on your own is because The Director trusts you, he won't send more than one agent to a certain death and he has run this by The Princess... Agent 8... they have talked for close to an hour. One on one. Shield let it slip while he was down here. Then The Council showed up and spoke with Celestia.. another six hours... He guarded that one too and said they considered outright martial law encompassing all of the Manehattan Metropolitan Area while the Guard cordoned the city off.
As it turns out, by 3 out of 11 council members recommendation and dumb unluck if you ask me... you're it. The last effort that's put in before they straight marehandle the whole Megalopolis by force just to find the artifact. Somehow.
Millions. Almost ten million beings condemned to- please, do not let it happen. Somehow.
"Highest ups" moved all the others we could spare to be within five hundred meters of you at almost all times, of course, but-
Imagine it Aiden- Fuck- Agent 8, over forty of your fellow Agents watching your every- nevermind. Forget I said that. Wrote that. You know what... I don't even think Censors will get this one this time around...
Eerie. Str-ange. Strange.
So... well, possibly the most important and perilous assignment in your whole career. No pressure. None. Thumbs up. I don't have thumbs.
I'm rambling. I know I do.. So... end.
The Book of All Stories. It's ughhh- It's a book! One that can supposedly sort of bend reality to the whims of its current owner while unbound by any known rules. Magical, physical... or just physics. It could erase an annoying neighbor from existence if you wished.. or turn every living being's left lung to Mozzarella. Make you a King of The Universe or our Princess a worthless beggar. Remove continents as if they never existed or make you the best cup of coffee you ever had...
You get the idea.
There were a lot of seemingly impossible things happening as of late and- most of them were centered on or happened close to the Manhattan Metropolitan Area.
I- I'm sorry but we.. we don't really know anything more. No pony does. All that ancient tome can supposedly do was straight from Princess Celestia and the book was a mere legend even in her prime. Her prime, can you imagine- We don't even have a description. According to Princess, there were wars fought over it by beings that never even saw it, that didn't know what it looked like... on mere mention that it might be within their reach.
...And now it's our turn... to have a little war of our own.
Well, yours.
I'm running out of allocated paper.
...
Advised Action: I don't even know what I could suggest. I'm sorry. Use all your resources or connections and try not to get killed, please.
I'm using this place to pour out a little bit more of me if you don't mind.
If... If we never see each other again because the world collapses or is turned into a baby floating in space or something... I always considered you my only friend among all the Agents. All twenty-seven of them... Official records. You know true numbers. You do. Tartarus, I said there's over forty of them befor– nevermind. You alone treated me well, like a real pony and not just a glorified book-sorting spell.
I've pushed back writhing this many times by now and it's nearly the end of my shift and I'm tired so I probably shouldn't bother or try but here we are... rambling again. Sorry. I wrote my folks as soon as I heard you were to go after The Book. Even If I didn't see them in over a decade and it's only partially my fault... I'm going to apologize to them still.
I'm going to say I'm sorry and get drunk with my father till we reminisce about the good old times and Mother joins at some point.
Yeh. Yeah... This is getting long. Just know that IF you fail and somehow none of us sees the next week... or even tomorrow... I'm okay with that. I don't blame you.
You did what you could. Your best.
I know I shouldn't sign this and all the rules and regulations say not to, but this feels like a final memoir so all of them, Magus, Director and High Scribe can kiss my plump flank...
- Amber Light, Scribe of the 2nd Order and Esquire of High Scribe Primase the Eternal
================================
Agent Addendum: ...Does it matter? No... I should write something... How about this... If you go to Elysium and I surely don't... I know for a fact that I won't... know that you were my favorite, Amber.
-Agent 8
There. That should do it. Save the ego and...
...and now he only had to save the whole world. Possibly.
...Possibly the whole world... or possibly save it. From who you ask? According to his preliminary scouting, it was almost clear. Almost. Eighty percent at most.
Marble Fang was his name. A unicorn with seemingly no talent for conventional magic or good connections whatsoever, yet he came out of nowhere and proceeded to take over most of the criminal underworld of Manehattan just in under a month, pulling miracle after miracle out of a proverbial hat, luck always conveniently on his white coated side.
Talk about luck. If not for Aiden's low-life second cousin living in Manehattan... he would have no leads. The Royal Guard? They tried their best. They would never figure it out on time, even if they had his sources. And they didn't.
And time was of the essence, as it seemed that the current owner of The Book was spiraling and spiraling fast. Apparently, at first, he was writing in that he received simple things, some favors here or there. As of late, he fell to simply rewriting plain history so that his perceived enemies never existed. Do not ask the scribes how they figured that one out on his request. DO NOT.
Seven souls lost to The Void.
Anyway... Aiden found he wanted to ask about somepony that he thought was within his reach seconds ago... only to not remember his name. Or her's...
...Shit... This is bad. They already knew about his pursuit starting and were actively working against it, but... why not remove the agent altogether? Sick satisfaction, toying with him? His adversary already knew who he was. At what point the sick owner of the book would get into his head a vile thought that some, like the Alicorns for example, limited him and stood in his way to greatness more than any agents ever did? That they were beneath him, not fit to exist.
Aiden had no time to lose. At any moment he could lose. His whole existence just poof gone. Good thing he still had a picture of the bastard, as blurry as it was. Bless the Agent that took it... Godspeed Agent 23... wherever you are.
Which is why he was so frustrated as of now, feeling like he passed by the same spice vendor for the seventh time and not knowing if it was the work of the enemy or just his shit luck. The Great Marketplace of Manehattan's immigrant district known unwaveringly as Vagrant Crescent was no joke. The district hugged the city on both the north and east side, coexisting with both docks and a high-rise center, much to the chagrin of the "Manehattanites". Quotes on that because they were just slightly more rich and fortunate versions of immigrants themselves. The true ones born here did not care diddly hell where you came from.
"Yous from Griffonstone? That nice.Which buckball team 'ya cheer for 'lil fucker?”
Also, The Great Marketplace easily occupied a third of the Immigrant district, so Aiden could swear he had seen that particular spice merchant for the eighth time as of the last second. Today being Saturday did not help. With Sunday being a holy day in many non-equestrian cultures, most of the inhabitants of the quarter rushed to get their last-minute shopping done today evening before all closes for tomorrow.
His distant cousin's info was invaluable, but Aiden didn't kid himself. Though the stallion... he thought... he was searching for was no high-positioned criminal, Aiden's knowledge was limited at best. As such, he needed information and if there was a better place to search for it than the myriad of multi-colored tents selling all manner of goods, he would be surprised.
As such he- wait a second. That wasn't right.
”Are you selling weapons in a public marketplace? With no permit, I assume?” Aiden asked of the distinctly southern-looking fellow, beige colored head wrap and all, his bright tent breaming with sharp and gleaming steel of all kinds.
” 'Depens. You a pig cop?” The mellow-yellow coated stallion twirled his pencil-thin mustache with gusto and Aiden had no doubt that the unassuming gesture was actually a signal to the many cronies hidden among the numerous shoppers to be at the ready, just in case the newcomer was an official of the law after all. To be honest, his x-style leather barding on top of his recently added leather armor and a travel cloak screamed more of a mercenary.. but to each their own.
The grey mane knew how to deal with that kind of beings. It was just a matter of... fitting in. And he meant both the vendor's criminal leanings as well as his nationality/ethnicity. He spent a few years in the hot sands of Alfraea and Zebrica... then its southern moist jungles. He wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy.
”Adjust your headwrap sandhorse, it might be a little too tight,” he said in almost perfect Saddle Arabian, albeit obviously accented. ”Just business here, no pigsty.”
The tense atmosphere was excruciating... but lasted only a second as the vendor turned his frown into a genuine smile.
”Ha... Hahaha! You okay mudboy!” The wrapped stallion said as if it wasn't a major insult in this country... but not in his. He nonchalantly waved off his bodyguards, not even bothering to hide it this time around. ”Sorry for the topmask, but you never safe in the business! Now, what you need? Exotic scimitar?” The easterner pulled half-a-pony long curved sword from under his stall, not caring for the onlookers in the least.
They won't tell.
”Scimitar good. Slice things real good.” He didn't hide it, he switched back to the disgusting equestrian solely for the client's pleasure and demonstrated the blade's prowess by cutting off one of the chimes hanging from the maroon baldachin of his stall, a swift whistle filling the ears of many before the charm hit the earthy ground with a dull metallic thud.
”I'm not saying no to business,” The brown earth pony reassured the foreign merchant, knowing the coin was all that kept his supposed friend on the side of friendliness and far from hostility. ”Though I'm in the market for more... immaterial goods.” By the quick smile both of them displayed at the same time, Aiden knew he had him, hook, line, and sinker... maybe even a little bit of rod too, he wouldn't put it past the greedy bastard.
”What kind, friend?” It never hurt to be a little cautious or inquisitive, the seller knew, his fake smile echoing his perverted thirst for coin. ”You want knowledge, sure. Normal or Magic kind?”
”Just looking for information, thank you.” Agent 8 quashed that line of thought as quickly as he could. Though he made a note to come back here if he lived through the whole ordeal. This particular fellow might have some goods he might be interested in "seizing"... or outright buying if it proves useful to him in the future. A dubious ally is better than no ally at all or an outright enemy... If the future exists and has both of them in it.
A lesson he learned years ago, fortunately.
Well, lessons. Both about the ally and about the "if future exists".
...Anyway.
”This fellow here,” He hoofed the picture over wishing the name wasn't robbed from him... wishing it was a stallion in fact. ”Ever heard of him? Saw him?”
A quick scoff was all it took. It seemed the merchant did not like the guy, apparently. ”Have we heard? Of high and mighty Marble Fang? We married to his aunt! He bad for business, the prick!”
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While most of the dock district was rightly silent at this kind of hour as it should be and sat quietly in its brick sturdiness while being bathed by salty sea spray, a single corner was more than alive. Full of beings of all kinds, the colorful bunch had some important and illicit things to do, and what better time to do them than the middle of the obscuring night?
”So, who is he again?” A red and burly pegasus asked of his dockside warehouse scattered compatriots, eyeing the brown-grey combo newcomer with righteous suspicion. Honestly, all that leather the dude wore made his skin crawl something proper. Even worse, the stallion wore that filth with pride.
Eugh.
”A mercenary,” Aiden lied with cold professionalism, blending in as best as he could considering his chosen wardrobe. ”You got a problem with that? Take it up with the one who pays me.”
”And who does pay you?” That was a good question. Huh. Aiden had to give it to him, not as dumb as he'd looked.
”Wouldn't you like to know that weather boy...”
”Hah!” a quick cry sounded from the side. ”He has you there Swift! Unless you'd pay him more than any of the bosses that sent him here maybe?” One of his colleagues, one of Abyssinian origin, mocked him up from the opened warehouse's catwalk. Heh.. catwalk. You know, because– oh, nevermind. Focus, Aiden. Focus. ”Oh wait... you and what money? I know your sorry ass poor as hell!” The mocking paw pointed at the reddish pegasus while laughing.
The whole shebang of low-life smugglers laughed in earnest, Aiden mixed with them included. Little did the poor fools know...
”You know what?” Previously named Swift started when all had their fill of giggles, Aiden included. ”You're all right. Not stuffy like I thought. Never know with you "hired by coin" types.”
”Well... about that... hold your breath.”
”Wha–”
The four most easily penetrated sides of the mixed corrugated steel and brick warehouse walls exploded inwards within a second with a terrible tremor causing both great chaos and confusion among the ranks of many illicit element. Before any of the criminal seed present had any chance to recover, they found out that some fierce royal guard hoof on their neck was a pretty effective deterrent to any attempt of getting up.
As the dust mostly settled, Aiden still stood where he did mostly without any issue. Some dust on his cloak none withstanding.
”I might not be stuffy,” He said while shaking some of the mortar dust from his cloak, closing in on downed Swift slowly. Just because he was the closest. ”Doesn't mean I can't be cold.” He whispered into the quickly folding ear of the downed stallion. As an Agent of The Bureau, he had quite a sway over the normal rank and file, as long as he waved appropriate documents and made sure they kept hush of his involvement in any official records.
Hey, don't blame them for following protocol now. They weren't privy to the fact that the world was about to end. As far as they knew, this was a smuggling ring bust. A... rather weird one, to be sure, and none were sure was was smuggled, but hey.. additional hazard pay! Huzzah!
”I knew it!” One of the downed ponies said, a scant mint mare this time around. ”I knew you was a rat, you filthy bor- Ahh!” The mare was promptly pressed into the floor by an armored Guardmare before she had any chance to finish her sentence.
The time was almost opportune as "the royals" brought out an important looking grey coated stallion from the back door, one that led down to the warehouse offices. Yet before Aiden had any chance, the probable leader of the criminals recognized a leader in him.
”I'd like to know your name,” the scummy looking stallion said. ”It helps with revenge.”
Nonplused by the grey unit of a unicorn Agent 8 came forth. Gladly. ”You may call me... X.” All the nondescript and imaginary designation instead of a name did was send a wave of amusement across all criminals as soon as they saw that their leader laughed.
”An X?” The criminal leader mocked the clearly fake moniker given to them all. ”What are you, one of my girls? Heha- bYow!” His sudden scream of pain echoed around the warehouse as both the outlaws and guards recoiled in shock.
Oh no.. the stallion's ugly mug... it's suddenly and inexplicably broken... Anyway.
Still.
Stuff like this... rarely happened in Equestria. Not to most ponies knowledge, not like this. There were laws against this. Ones especially bounding ponies who swore allegiance to the Princesses. Well, Aiden was not most ponies. Bureau was not most ponies. Especially not to a scum like this. However, Aiden had to give some credit to the pair of guards holding the injured leader. They kept him upright despite all.
As a few teeth rolled to a stop on the floor and Aiden shook the residual blood of his hoof, he wasted no time at all. ”Anyone present here at this point is liable to a level VI clause under charges of willing cooperation or outright treason. Is that clear?” Though most guards present didn't even know what that meant they all nodded in agreement, with their superiors present terrified once they recognized the clearance level cited.
...Celestia preserve them...
Aiden quickly located the two most senior by rank. ”Corporals! Both of you!”
”Yes Sir!” The pair sounded off, knowing regulations by heart enough to know just how serious level VI actually was. Anypony that cited it, that even knew what it meant had to be one sent from above. Aiden did not pull any punches. He used the full power of the might The Agency afforded him, his newly found mission emergency power notwithstanding.
”Be so kind and help me carry our guest for a... more private talk.” He gestured with a hoof down into the depths of the warehouse offices, the very same ones the stallion in question was dragged from. Let no one say he wasn't thorough. ”After that, select a pair of your most loyal to stand guard. I don't want a peep getting out.”
”It shall be done, Sir!”
And it would be done. Level VI was way above their pay grade and officers will obey lest they risk their whole career. Normal rank and file had no idea but played along to orders.
”Good. Now let'-”
”...actually, make it level VII,” A new voice had said, yet anypony worth anything would recognize it in an instant. Some would be confused, and some would weep. Internally, mind you. Only a scant two voiced their dismay out loud and were taken note instantly. It depended on where your convictions and loyalties lay, but some should figure them out sooner rather than later as a tall midnight mare entered the sorry excuse for a warehouse through one of the busted walls with a sizable detachment of her Night Guard in tow.
Princess Luna was here with a purpose and a mission. She will not leave without what she came for.
By now, both the simple private among the guards and the lowest criminals had the same issue, they did not understand anything that was happening right about now. How did this seemingly normal stallion command such authority? Was he... was he really going to do what they thought he was about to? Why was a Princess here? More so Luna out of all of them? Wha- haa?
”Your Highness,” Aiden didn't.. she- fuck. She's not supposed to be here, in more ways than one. If he said anything he wasn't supposed to, Celestia will be furious... if she finds out. He had to tread lightly. ”To what do I owe the.. pleasure?”
Luna had to give him that. He tried.
”Save your poorly hidden displeasure and be frank with us Agent, though we ail we don't know your designation.” Luna gathered intel just by looking around the criminal den full of subdued ponies, with a few different species here or there. ”What is thou in need'st of?”
Dammit. She reverted to 'ye olde speak. She's not- he couldn't- Celestia was going to fucking kill him. Immolate in a secret ceremony. Okay, she didn't have those probabl- ”My princess, I cannot in good consci-”
”We said save it, colt,” She interrupted him quickly and mercilessly, yet ready to explain while not caring who heard what. Level VII, after all.. and a thousand-plus years of seniority. ”Our sister kept us in the dark about The Agency dealings long enough under the guise of "protecting us". *Tsk*. She scoffed loudly so that all could hear and condemn the clear injustice. Some would later swear her mere sneer sheared some galvanization off the metal warehouse's walls. Don't laugh! They saw it. ”Though she does not know we are here, I would like you to afford us the same status as you would to her. We know of your.. peculiar dealings with her, so do not treat us like a peon would a sovereign, lest you like being belittled... So... what are you in need of, Agent...?”
”...Eight.”
”Boring. Unfit of your assignment and its importance. Ten is a better number.” She knew why. ”As such, while dealing with me you shall be known as... Agent X.” The Princess smiled a bit, knowing she made a chink in the almost impenetrable armor of bureaucracy within which The Agency was hidden. Better than nothing... as a start. Oh, how she despaired she couldn't attempt this mission on her own, by her lonesome... alas, she would be found out by the book's power in an instant if she got any closer... by now only the magicks of The Moon and Darker Powers kept her safe. For another... scant thirty-four minutes..., ”Now, what does our Agent X doth require?”
Agent X, huh? Aiden thought, he hoped his thoughts his own and private, Cruel Princess... cruel...
Ahh, damn him to hells and his existence be cursed all the way down to the ninth circle. He couldn't refuse.
He defied Celestia on a whim just because she was nice and accommodating... among other things hanging over his neck, but he never thought that- ”I was about to interrogate this here stallion as I believe he has the intel I need,” Aiden gestured to the increasingly terrified grey Unicorn. ”Within regulations, of cour-”
”Does thou prefer torture of physical or rather mental nature?” Luna asked nonchalantly while all guards except hers balked at what she said. Though even some of hers did. Torture? What–
”Both. I planned to use both,” Aiden answered truthfully. After his assignment was done, if he lived, he was probably screwed either way. Might as well go all in.
It seemed that his honesty did some impression upon Princess of The Night as she relaxed a scant little of her rock-tense muscles. Leaning close to him so that only he could hear, she whispered. ”I know we said it but we would reiterate. She does not know we are here and we would like it to stay that way for now. As long as it lasts...”
”Why?” He couldn't help himself. Years of dealing with supremely deadly supernatural left him quite jaded to all kinds of authority after a certain point. You could be threatened by some kind of a demigod only so many times in your life. Truly, he was rather fortunate Luna was unusually forthcoming as well. This conversation being nonexistent in records as per level VII could have something to do with it though. Just a tad.
”As we- as I said. Celestia thinks codling us about the existence of The Agency will keep her little sister safe and secure.” Grimace upon her face said it all. ”We... disagree. As such, if no pony of her employ would help us on her orders, we took it upon ourselves to gather as much information as we could on our own. Hence our presence here today.”
”But how did you-”
”Classified.”
Aiden looked around at the rather intimidating Thestrals accompanying her, figuring out how she came upon the information she wanted.
”As such, we will reiterate once again, as to not be misunderstood. She does not know we are here and we would like it to stay that way. Provided we are included in the upcoming interrogation... and afterward.. you never saw us.”
What choice he did have? He nodded in finality and moved their conversation to the public once more. ”Jaw or legs?” He asked in resignation, his only two choices presented. Damned if he allowed, damned if he refused. Might as well have some fun.
”Mind.” The hard answer came. ”I always excelled more in the mental kind of torment, as per my... experience. We will leave the dirty kind of work to you... whichever way you prefer it.”
It was decided then. Though Aiden wouldn't be himself if he didn't stop by the previously named Swift, the stallion trembling thoroughly by this point, being in the planet's worst crosshair possible. The very top of the chain of command now focused on his sorry muzzle.
”I have some grand advice and I recommend you think about it well and think hard.” The confusion on the red stallion's face was quite clear, so Aiden was quick to enlighten him. ”If your boss doesn't talk... you're next.”
Swift Shade might have.. chosen the wrong profession.
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...
Aiden should have chosen a different spot than some exposed side-roof. It was windy here, turbulent air and all... not surprising, considering it was a Manehattan high-rise's thirty-something floor.
The chilly windy kind. Worst kind.
Ah, but what can you do. He asked Luna to vacate this whole building of tenants and she did it without hesitation for some ungodly reason...
Misplaced trust and beginnings of desperation, hell yeah. And, it's not as if there's a better vantage point to listen in on the crime's syndicate conversation. Speaking of...
”So, what now?” The dapper suited earth pony stallion said, Aiden's listening device turned his way to hear him more clearly. ”Each one of us has at least two Lieutenants down,” The prime example of criminal scum looked at his dubious allies and grimaced. ”Some of us way more than that. What can we do about that... leatherbound freak?”
Oh, it seemed Aiden was famous now. Nice.
A sky-blue pegasus took his felt hat off and sighed, for all it was worth, while his frustration grew more apparent than ever. Even all the expensive and overpriced art on the walls of their meeting room did not calm him. ”What do you propose, Magio?” He addressed his dapper frien-... associate. ”Each one of us chases the new sicko on our own territory as soon as he shows up. The thing is, he's gone as soon as our boys get there.. or the place is swarming with Roya- excuse me, Solar Guard now... or worse, The Night One. Which I still think is not a coincidence.”
Some few turned his way, more intrigued than a minute ago.
”Still think it's a final effort to get rid of us?” A demure earth pony mare full of dark colors and even darker clothes asked, not comfortable among the gathering in the least but Manehattan business was Manehattan business. She had a cocky attitude enough to stomach them. ”We had a deal with Her.”
A deal? With Her?
Oh... curious. Hopefully not what Aiden thought, but you can never be sure. If it is what he thought then he cannot tell Luna, please do not be what he thought. He did not feel like toppling major parts of the Government right about now. Or ever for that matter.
”We are an obstacle, first and foremost.” The pegasus, now hatless, said mother-of-factly. ”This game of ours had to tip in Her favor someday.”
”No,” A fourth important-looking occupant of the room sitting quietly till now decided to speak. ”First, that's impossible. She's not capable of such subterfuge. Both in character and power... No... this vigilante of ours, another matter altogether. An unknown. What do we know about him?”
Oh, that was his queue. Zip up and onward.
It took all but five seconds really, but the shatter of the glass pane was most glorious. While he landed squarely in the middle of the table all guarding goons springing into action, he had it under control.
All the armed Night Guard Thestrals following him might have something to do with it.
”I would like to talk to you all about your carriage extended warranty.”
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It took a day... or four... alright, eight.
But at last, Aiden was here. While it took him days and countless sacrifices, piece by piece and step by step he got closer to his target by dismantling the criminal underworld or seeking arcane and now he was.., well, here. He was not happy about the journey as he learned a lot of things. Things he should not have known.
But what was some unwanted knowledge among friends?
All in all, after all Aiden did for the past week... the Marble Fang– yes, he extorted his name out of somepony by now –he searched for all this time went and asked for him directly.
Just like that. Figures.
Either he knew who he dealt with after calmly observing all of Aiden's exploits and was just curious before the kill.. or he was a proper boast, just hoping for yet another ally in his crime empire.
Was it a crime empire? Uhh... didn't he try to erase his memory that one time? Or he did... yeah, he did.
Remember. Marble Fang. Enemy. Target. Always.
Alright. Focus. For if Marble could do anything he wanted, anything he could imagine... why did he need anyone at all? What could he achieve by doing any of this? Who did he need or want?
Something was fishy, something did not add up here.
Agent Eigh- Agent X was about to find out one way or another.
”Go on inside. Somepony will take you to him,” The right one of the entrance guard duo said to him without any introduction, which meant they expected him and were informed beforehoof as Aiden didn't even get a chance to say who he was.
As for the duo, they looked.. downright ridiculous.
Agent 10 would describe them as "straight out of a Japony storybook" but then, considering the circumstances, they might as well be products of one, artificial constructs altogether. Both the guard that addressed him and his buddy owned some imposing and rather dangerous-looking halberds and Aiden was sure they didn't even know how to use them properly. They were dressed similarly, with scary-looking yet colorful demon facemasks and pieces of lamellar armor here or there.
The building Aiden was invited into was not better.
Think some eastern style wooden temple. Ceremonial torches on posts and all.
Eugh..
As he traveled down through the entrance, there was indeed somepony waiting for him. ”After me, if you please.” Another mask-clad stallion led him through the corridors and as they went deeper and deeper, the overall feel of the place changed. A lot.
Discounting that being led through enemy territory on a leash was most unusual.
At some point, a pair of guards started trailing after him and his guide. Then another... and another. Decorations got more sparse by the meter and all the debauchery fell off in an instant. Rich engravings of gold and carved wood interior gave way to the more sinister lack of any artistic expression.
Any. None. Zilch, zero. Unnerving.
Finally, among all of nothingness he saw a pair of ornate doors, decorated with golden dragon-demon embroidery of masterful skill. Was it a genuine labor of love he commissioned or did Marble make somepony do it for him just because he felt so? It could all be made to- oh. That was.. wow. Talking about villain cliché. Aiden's entrance to the main room was facilitated by his guides and then-
”Do you even know what you are chasing after?”
...O-kay. It was not what Aiden expected, as far as villain monologues went. He had heard a lot of those through the years.. At most, he wanted a-
”Oh.” Now... It was getting better by every single second. The silence was all Marble got, and whatever the reason it was all Marble needed. ”You don't, do you? Not fully. They Didn't- Hh haha he hhaaaaa” The unhinged laugh was eerie and echoing. As if it wasn't fully his. ”So. If your gods didn't bother to, then I'm going to enlighten you. So gracious of me.”
The off-white unicorn turned away from his bare room and trotted to a simple wooden table set to the side of a happily roaring stone fireplace, easily the one thing of worth in the enormous sanctum of his. He made a spectacle of it and all Aiden could do was watch. Marble picked up a simple dirt brown booklet no bigger than a travel brochure for the Manhattan area and bound in the middle by a worn-looking linen belt, its mangled buckle looking tired beyond measure yet holding sturdily. He stared at it for far longer than what was comfortable as if trying to open it with his mind alone.
Was this.. was this it? Aiden had to be sure before he acted. He could not make a mistake. Any mistake would cost him his life... and everyone their lives.
”The Book of All Stories,” There it was... Marble confirmed Aiden's suspicions without any ceremony.. but he still wasn't looking at him, fixated on the tome as if enchanted. ”It whispered to me, you know... still does. Told me to use it as I see fit.” ...*sigh*... ”Would you believe me if I said I found it at The Manehattan Museum of Arts library, Aiden?”
The eyes of the stallion in question widened before he had a chance to get a hold of his emotions. He never gave any of these outcasts his real name... The book made him forget once at the market, it could make-
”You didn't, true. It could, also true,” Marble said, seemingly reading his mind. Now looking directly at Aiden. Almost through him. ”But The Book knows it. So then I know it.”
This was not good, at this rate-
”Oh, don't worry,” The chief unicorn tried to assuage Aiden's internal worry, once again seemingly knowing what was going inside his mind at any point. ”I know how your story ends. It is not that bad.” Marble advanced quickly upon Aiden and as it turned out, the agent wasn't quick enough to reach for the knives in his barding the guards didn't confiscate before the surrounding goons seized him in place without any chance for movement, as if they knew he would reach for-... dammit. Future seeing imagine bulllshi-
”Imagine,” The lunatic started, his gaze more distant by the second. ”It told me it was just a tool, but what a tool it is.” His wonder and smile didn't quite reach his ears.. but they were dangerously close. ”Any point of history you can think of can be found, then simply crossed out and changed. You could make it so that the tribes never joined or even met, that Luna returned as a stallion, or that a thousand years from now Celestia snaps and burns the planet to the ground!”
Marble chuckled, the noise he made was dark and uncomfortable, as if the power he was holding was... too much. ”Such simple thing no bigger than a school textbook and as if it wasn't enough, on top of its reality-bending abilities it contains all that ever was, all that is.. and all that ever will be.” The scary admission was heard by anypony with the vicinity, but Marble didn't care anymore. Not for his cronies nor his enemies. He knew the consequences... or lack thereof. He knew how the story goes. He had to play his role, down to the very last word. So as the silence reigned, Aiden sat quietly, waiting for... something. Anything more. Or was this it?
”Can you even comprehend the power this little booklet has?
As the question hung there in the air, Aiden knew the answer was no.. but he still wondered. If anyone could feel even close to Godhood, this was it. Every passing whim and urgent need, every thought made reality if one only wished so. If one of pure intentions used it accordingly, he or she could change the world for the better in an instant. Feed the hungry and help the poor. Tame the greatest beast or eliminate all ailments. End all the wars or even violence itself. Unite the world in harmony and usher in an endless era of peace, his or her glory never-ending.
Yet no one had done any of that.
Why?
Not a single owner... ever. How many claimed possession of the book through the ages? For how long did the cursed text exist? With it, one could have no worry, sadness or anger. No loved one would ever die, no lover would ever extinguish his flame, no child would ever defy authority. One would be beyond simple feelings or understanding of lowly mortals, his goals beyond the comprehension of those without this overwhelming power.
...
That kind of might could turn anyone into a monster and... it's not like there were any instructions. All that happened through the ages did so by experimentation. If one knew the full scope and rules... tremble nations and life itself.
”No. No, I can not comprehend,” Aiden responded truthfully and sarcastically. Of course he couldn't. He hoped he would never find out. However, in his line of work... not a complete zero chance.
”Nor can I.”
"...What?" Aiden was violently cast back into reality. Did Marble just-
The gaze of his unicorn foe changed, no longer was it one of madness and quickly slipping mind... but one of supreme clarity.. as if... enchanted to be so... Did.. no, he couldn't, could he–wait no, he could do anything– did he wish himself to be like this? Now he seemed.. different. His eyes full of genuine emotion, full of sadness.. of sorrow. A master turned into a thrall before he could catch what was happening. Yet for his benefit.... Ughhhhhhh Aiden's head hurt.
”I did try,” Marble said. ”Goddess above knows I tried.” He looked at the tome as if its mere presence offended him on an untold level. Mocked him with all its near limitless power. ”My whole life I tried to understand why. Why was it always me?” Looking back at his supposed adversary, Marble's look conveyed anything but being adverse. ”I know you didn't have it easy Aiden, so believe me when I say... I do understand you.”
He sat down on his rump heavily, knowing this speech was a long-coming affair. Literally decades in the making. ”My parents couldn't give two shits about me if my existence didn't mean another bag of bits to drink away. They had enough children for that anyway, so not a big loss. I had no childhood friends, with being the black sheep of the most pathologic family of the town and all.” He looked into the steadily dying down fire of the fireplace fondly as it gave him comfort beyond all.
Warmth. From all the riches the book afforded him, he treasured the warmth of a heated home the most.
”I received basic education only because it was state-sponsored, bless Celestia's naive personality. No friends there, nor later in life too as no one wanted to know that weird outcast on the edge of town.” Marble Fang continued uninterrupted and unprompted, but he knew what he had to do. ”Parents drunk themselves into the grave at some point, more resourceful siblings left while the rest of them.. moved on too. It was always like this then and after.” The sad smile was more for himself than Aiden, but he looked his direction anyway. ”No family, no love, no friendship... no existence. No one would miss me. None knew I existed aside from records.”
Maybe he shouldn't, but Aiden wanted to say something. ”Marble, you don't-”
”Just so we're sure, I don't blame no pony. Nor do I seek pity. I'm narrating,” His gaze unwavering, resolute. ”I wish I was a better pony.. but I'm not. I'm not a good person.” There it was. ”I always just... always wanted to know why. Why me specifically.” Back to the book his gaze had gone. ”Then this shows up in my life. All I could ever want now could be mine. I had nothing... and now I could have everything, if I could just reach for it... what a joke.” To the surprise of everyone present a grimace marred his muzzle. One of disgust.
”I still wished for nothing of worth.”
Before Aiden or any of the cronies could protest, Marble already knew he would interrupt them and that Aiden would not protest. He knew the beginning, the middle, and the end. ”None of the book's owners did. For all the ponies that possessed it.. none wished for something good to happen... only for something good to happen to them.”
It was supremely funny. Adjusted for one's humor spectrum. Alternatively, it was... sad. Adjusted for... one's spectrum.
Both Aiden and Agent 8/X sides had to admit. This was a rare one... and both Aiden and Agent were glad that it was so.
”As you can see I tried to do something. I tried to.. spice it up. Give myself the things I thought I lacked in life. When that didn't work, I got increasingly... creative.” Poor white Marble's gaze said it all. It said... "I'm sorry"... but he couldn't, wouldn't say it. ”None of it brought me joy or even happiness... I'm not even glad.” He sighed audibly, nearing the end of his pathetic tale, for Aiden just another assignment he thought. Knew. Well, he did know that- never mind. ”Within a week or so I realized, nothing would fix that. All my life I was tossed around by everyone, so I just ended up... broken. So I tossed others around and broke them as if it would change anything. Sorry for the memory wipe by the way or the assassins and the hammer and the building fallin- nevermind. You understand.”
Aiden did not. Well, maybe a little. Being a Bureau Agent prepared you for a lot, but–
”I even, mmmm, perused the book for the same question I asked myself so often, WHY?” The tone and chuckle that followed was disheartening, painful to watch. ”I just wanted to know... and guess what it told me?”
Wha– what does he mean, he knows Aiden doesn't know–
”So I could read it. Mh-mhehhehe”
Everypony, be it Aiden or his captors just wanted to leave now. Or just live through it, that was fine too. Yet they couldn't, all hold hostage by the lunatic with all the power.
”I was born so I could read it... fuck.... I'm– I'm saying too much. No. Bad.”
Shit. He was getting unstable again. Even then, Aiden wished he could tell Marble that it was going to be okay. He really did. He knew it to be true if one gets help, but with the book still-
”Did you know the damn thing also feeds on your life force?” Clarity once again? When will this rollercoaster end? ”Every use, depending on the complexity of the wish shaves off some of your life. May be a few hours, may be a year... or more.” Marble looked at the thing with disgust, his voice quickly filling with vitriol untold. To his knowledge he was one of the very few in possession of that particular booklet's secret... and he had all the knowledge. ”I wonder how many knew this, I didn't look... still. No pony decided to improve ponydom or the world in general.”
”...It is a Powerleech... huh.”
For all the owners through the ages, pony or otherwise, did no one care? Did no one want to? Did no one figure it out... no, impossible. He couldn't be the first one. Couldn't, he was sure of it. Untold good for the price of a single life? It should be mandated by law, for what was a single sacrifice once a few decades or so to correct a dozen mistakes. All it would take was for the owner of the book to be somepony pure. Expecting no reward for sacrifice.
No. The likes of him got it. Always.
The book made sure it fell into the hooves of such an element. The book knew. It knew and schemed, always weaving its web. All the while it did not disclose its ... unfortunate side effects. That's how it sustained itself. ”Yeah. I know all about that, you little shit. I've figured it all on my own, wrote myself half an hour of clarity from... and you know what?” The gaze turned more smug than angry while he looked toward the offending tome. ”Nevermind. You don't need to know. Nothing will help you where you're going. Although you might already know that...”
Before anyone present could react in time, the book was already among the red-hot embers of the fireplace's interior.
Marble made this room specifically for this purpose after all. Her foresaw it, consequences be damned. There was not a single thing or no one within the room to save the book in time. It was the end for it... and what an inglorious and unremarkable end it was.
He made sure of it.
As the plasmatic substance of the flames tested the waters around the crumbly paper, it tried to resist with all its might both cellulose and dark magic battling the ever encroaching heat. Yet in poetic justice, the almighty book was powerless. All the power to no avail as the ages-old protective enchantments that withstood countless a fire during scourge or castle siege during a war failed with a rather sad fizzle in an obscure conjured building on the drab outskirts of Manehattan.
It was destroyed. A deed countless tried... yet no one ever achieved. All because it was the book's current and rightful owner that did the heinous act willingly. For the first... and for the last time.
As the tome crinkled within the raging fire Marble signed audibly, a weight of countless lifetimes lifted off his shoulders. As if a presence once looming above him left and let go of him, never to return.
He was free. Free to.. to face the consequences of his actions. He might be simple but he was not dim.
”Everyone is to stand down and give themselves up to the authorities,” He said warningly out of nowhere. ”Or else I'm going to use the residual powers on you... The scene is yours, Agent 10.” He lifted his hooves before Aiden in a universal sign of surrender and it took but a second for the guards holding Aiden to follow. For one without proper higher education, Marble was a strategist at heart, as Aiden was almost sure the threat was just a clever fib. There were no any "powers" left. But was anypony about to test that claim? Surely not.
One by one everyone in the room laid down their weapons and surrendered, signaling their "defeat".
Saving a world while barely doing anything, not even having a big final fight.
Okay, that... that was a first for Agent eigh- ten. Agent Ten.
...
Huh... anticlimactic.
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It was agonizing.
Somepony. Someone take him away. A million bits for the savior. Billion even... he'd work it off... somehow.
As Aiden stood there being his usual brown and gray self, all he had to entertain himself was to look over the exquisite decor of the throne room once more. The red plush carpet, mhm. The multiple masterwork stained glass windows, yep. The many marble pillars each weight equal to that of an average house in both marble and bits probably, still there. All the while his employer, his Sovereign and.. well, it was Her... Celestia, read the report he had provided to her blasted scribes. He knew she read those reports, just... not in front of him, usually.
He hated this.
Her eyes stopped moving over the words on paper ten minutes ago.
She was just staring at the damn paper.
FUCK
...
”Is this all, Agent 10?”
Her caressing voice pulled him out of his musings. So many questions in such a short sentence... She knew about his new designation somehow. B-But Luna said she didn't wish for- How did- AHHHH politics- shit them- He... he should tell her. He always intended to. Should he?
”N-No.. Your Highness.”
It was... unusually formal of him, she noticed. Suspicious. Normally he treated her like a nuisance.
Princess Celestia took but a second to gaze around. ”Ah. I understand. Guards, if you would be so kind as to leave us to talk in private?” She addressed the faithful four standing vigil on both sides of her throne's dais. Yet, they displayed some hesitation toward the unknown stallion. For all they knew he could be a-
”Leave us.”
Just like that, with a quick ideal salute and a shuffle of hooves, the Princess and her employee/guest were left all on their own in the vast hall of the throne room. No nobles, no onlookers, not even guards she didn't need. It wasn't harsh or untoward, nor rude or overly authoritative. Yet.. it was an order. She hated using her authority in that manner, but such was the reality of rule, no matter how benevolent or... coarse.
”Now, a bit for your thoughts?” Celestia smiled warmly, not wishing to remain intimidating a second longer than she had to.
”The Book.”
”...what of it?”
Now his gates were open. ”Marble admitted that it presented itself as nothing but a tool... but I don't believe that.” Aiden thought out loud more than anything while Celestia listened with rapt attention to any word he said. ”There are many artifacts that leech power or life force of its user in order to exist. Yet few that do so consciously... and maliciously.”
”The worst kind.” She admitted sadly with a reminiscence known only to her. The scant few of such she came across on her own were still burned into her memory akin to a red hot coal against a bare skin... and always will be.
”I believe it manipulated Marble Fang, not only leeching his life force but introducing its own brand of corruption and twisting his mind in the process.” Though the brown stallion was truthful, he had his own pony in this race as well. He did not wish for Marble to spend the rest of his life behind bars, now that he was apprehended. But he will not lie. ”If it was actually the book's doing... or just a pony's cruel nature shining through... I have no proof. Only my observations.”
The princess was silent. For a solid while. After all, she crossed paths with the blasted book's after-effects a few times in the last two millennia. To have even its charred remnants in her secure possession at last after all this time...
”So... how is Marble?” Aiden asked, cutting the silence down all on his own.
”...” Ruler of All hesitated. That wasn't good, why did she- ”He.. passed away this morning.”
”...Oh.” It was all Aiden could say. He wasn't... okay, maybe he was. But he still didn't want it to happen. ”He used it that much?” She didn't have to answer that one. Rhetorical. ”I just hope he got his peace.”
”Me too, Aiden. Me too. Although...” There was always more with Her. Always. The dubious "perk" of the job.
”Yes?”
”He left a note for you.” The Sun princess produced a small folded piece of unassumingly yellowed paper out of her peytral, keeping it close till now. ”This little thing, supposedly.”
”Supposedly?” He did not like the sound of that. ”What is it about?”
Although a tiny bit wounded, Celestia explained nonetheless. ”I do not know,” She shook her head sadly. ”He asked for your eyes only and I wish to respect that as his last act, no matter who he was in life.” A little smile wormed its way into her muzzle. She respected the laws she established herself... mostly. ”I also trust you, Aiden.”
He recognized that one. She indirectly said she trusted him enough that he would tell her if it was for her to know. A highlight of his career, if anypony asked him.
While the small note floated its way to him gently he wondered what he would see- oh. OH.
====================
I saw much, Aiden. Too much to tell. Feel.
I've- I'm- I'm sorry. I'm sorry that "the sorry" is all I have, but I didn't- I couldn't change their- Could you tell the families I'm sorry? Reach into your barding now, third pocket on the left belt.
====================
⠀
He.. had his barding on right now. Damn him. Did Marble make him wear his barding or was it- ah, what's the point..
Aiden slowly reached into the aforementioned pouch as if there was a possibility of it biting him bac- there's was a piece of paper inside. He has to read the rest.
He has to. He wants to.
⠀
====================
That's a list of everypony- everyone I hurt. I could have written in the book you already told them by now, but I know it wouldn't make me feel better. Maybe... this way it will? The proper way? Well, almost.
Oh.
It's now. Time to... well, die.
In a palace though... In The Palace? Me? ... and it happened on its own, I didn't write it.
Huh. And I didn't read that one. The place I mean.
Funny how paradoxes work with this little book of ours. You can read about your own death, if you wish, you know. Try to change it... or cause it, even if by accident. Curious. I will ruminate on that.
Oh. No time. He's here.
Just.. try to live a good life, don't eat the boat mooring and expect the thing.
====================
⠀
That was... chilling, to say the least. Even forgoing the majority of the message and focusing only on the very end.. what? Don't eat the- Expect the... What? Why? .... What...? Combine that with the previous apology he got for the memory wipe, some assassins that weren't here yet and some building falling....
The very quintessence of the life as The Bureau agent, in short.
Damn that life.
FUCK.
You save The Universe and this is what you get in thanks.
”Well?” The Princess's voice brought him back into the lucid world. ”Was it... important?” She inquired.
”Yeah...”
”Ah. I understand.” She said as if she understood. The social "why I shouldn't ask", maybe. The truthful "why"... not really. Not that he did as of now, not fully. ”Well, in any case, that would be all Aiden. Get some well-deserved rest. Please. I implore you.” She knew he was not going to listen.
Yet a mare can dream.
”Before I forget,” She stopped the rapidly receding silent stallion in his tracks. ”The mission itself was a success, of course, and I won't forget it. Ever. This was not something anypony could have done Aiden.” There it was. The reward. Wealth and fortune. ”As such, I feel that none of your fellow agents or The Director, High Scribe Primase or even Magus Sunwave would be opposed to-”
”No.”
”Mmm. I had a feeling you would say that.” Celestia's muzzle scrunched almost adorably. Let no pony say that she didn't try. One of these days, If a cosmic horror wouldn't kill him for the sass, her sister would. That mare could kill a pet rock.
...
...Maybe.. that's an idea...
”How does a pay grade raise sound instead? A nice permanent pension bonus followed by a promotion from Clearance Z-VI to Z-VIII. You would be one of only thirteen ponies in existence with that kind of authority. Would that be acceptable? Not too much?”
”...Mmm.”
Give as got indeed.
The throne room doors shut quietly behind the stallion as he went on his merry way, still having a few work duties to do, as Princess Celestia could only rest both her muzzle and wounded ego upon her tired forehooves. She really should retire. Twilight was getting somewhat competent...
”Though I really should stop getting sass from my own employees.”
”Getting what from your staff? Or ours, in fact, now that I think about it.”
Ah.
...There she was. The Meddler. One of the few reasons she couldn't retire. One of these days, she will ask Cadance to arrange a match between her sister dearest and her most precious student. They're both neurotic enough to be worthy of each other. They will rule forevermore in their own.. unique way. A scant spell and gentle push from the Princess of Love ... ah, forget it. She shouldn't.
She really shouldn't.
”Is there anything that escapes your inquisitive muzzle, Luna? Sister dearest?”
”Hmm...” The darker Alicorn had to think a bit abou- no, no she didn't. ”No,” She said while going around the tall throne straight from the side room that allowed them a quick passage from their quarters in order to fulfill their duties efficiently.
”It's The Bureau stuff, Luna. Nothing for you to be concerned about.”
Ah, that. So Agent X was already after his briefing.
It still didn't sit right with her. It never sat right with her. But she was working on that. ”Is that so? Will you perchance tell me why one of these days?” The night sovereign feigned ignorance, as if she wasn't dismantling the centuries old web of bureaucracy.
As Celestia wondered about the now gone brown stallion and if he would be alright... about the mandated counseling sessions he would not attend even if she ordered him to go, she settled for yet another nondescript answer for her sister.
”Hard no. It is my duty as a sibling. It's that simple.”
”...figures.”
Author's Note
You- you seriously thought it's going to be all smiles and joke adventures kind of a story?
HA HAAAAaaaaaa... you utter boob! You poor Fool! You fell right into my carefully prepared deception and activated my trap card!
I got you hooked and now you can't leave. The fanfic continuity demigods demand so.
In all seriousness though, it's more of a "dark and cruel world with colorful equines in it and they try to reign it in with sheer will and ability while coping by humor so that they don't go insane" kind of story.
...Yeh, don't ask. I seriously don't know why I'm like this either.
I love my ponies, and for that, they must suffer.
Also, if you have any cool ideas for artifacts, feel free to share them in a comment over a spoiler tag or a DM so as not to possibly spoil anyone in the comments if I end up using your idea. I'm not out of them, not even close, but hey. Maybe you have better ones. So anything goes, basically any SCP worthy shizz is a go. However, try not to outright copy any SCPs from the wiki on purpose.
By accident I can forgive, as I do it frequently and will probably do it a few times in this story without realizing it.
Also, wait a week or so for the next one. Almost ready. The next chapter is almost there, just... polishing that one. A lot. Like, I need it ball bearing smooth. Not aerospace ball bearing smooth, but mine own standard smooth. So, "course like sand but It'll work" smooth. You get it.
Lastly, be a dear and point out any grammar oopsies, politely. Please. I'm not a native and sometimes rather obvious things escape the constrictive grasp of my two braincells. You see, even after two decades of wielding English I'm dumb like that. Being a proud owner of a Grammarly free trial version because I'm cheap does not help much.
...I'm not blindly making up the lore, I swear. I have power scale of artifacts, promise. Just can't decide if number eight name should be number nine or number nine should be number eight.
Lastly, Unicode sucks. The diddly cock do you mean that Windows 11 displays a character and Android 15 doesn't? So, now I have to change it so that everyone can see it? Also, sometimes the same character displays differently?
...
Bullshit I tell you. Microsoft, fight me you coward.
