Heresy

Heresy-New Blood

"Front and center new blood!"

The drill sergeants voice rang out in the cold morning air as the new recruits for the Equestrian Armed Forces were lined up and introduced to the Trottingham Academy. Tired colts and mares shuffled off of the train and quickly lined up, trying to stay alert as to not be berated.

The sergeants weren't having any of that.

"You think you're good enough to be here? I asked for recruits and THIS is what they send me? You're nothing but a pile of steaming gelding shit with an added layer of fur!" the burly gray colt yelled. Insults of all shapes and sizes rang out from his throat as he walked up and down the poorly formed line of recruits.

The yelling didn't end as they were then marched away from the receiving station. Any luggage they had brought was taken away and anypony that was wearing any clothes was quickly told to strip down. They would be showering as a group and then moved on to the barracks where they would receive their clothes, bunks, and morning orders. Among all of these tired new recruits was one stand out. A red stallion of enormous proportions.

"Apple, McIntosh!" a voice called out. In response to hearing his name, the stalwart stallion turned his head and faced the middle-aged colt.

"You're with first squad. Now get to your bunk. You get first pick, boy." the gruff colt said, with a half smile.

The large red stallion quietly did as he was told while the drill sergeant continued on his way, berating all of the other recruits for existing. Fine by him. He just wanted to get through this and see his sisters again. Frakkin' draft.

He made his way down the center of the barracks, and chose the seventh bed on the left side. No real reason as to why, but he was just drawn to it. As he stood next to it, placing the pack of clothing given to him on it, he noticed others shuffling past him. It seemed that the colts and mares were separated by sleeping quarters. This was no real surprise. They didn't want any horseplay going on. Heh. Horseplay.

"Alright boys, let's get one thing straight. I, am NOT, your friend. I, am HERE, to teach YOU, how to SURVIVE. You will NOT, fail this course. You will NOT, like me. You WILL, want to kill me. And you WILL respect me. Now, move your fat-assed flanks and get the hell out of my barracks! We're goin' for a little morning run!" the gray colt called to the now assembled mass of a few dozen colts.

They quickly moved out and formed two rows and started off. A brisk pace was set and all of the tired colts quickly started to awaken. Those that were falling asleep standing up quickly found themselves bustled along as they picked up their pace, running along a flat dirt path. Most by now had started to take in their surroundings. It was an incredible place. There were huge buildings crafted from stone, all of them touched by some great artisan for sure. All of them were nestled within a great valley, with rolling green plains and dark thickets of forestry, leading up the side of the hills. Dirt was rather common on this lower ground, and soon the trotting group started to pick up a slightly faster pace, and then slowed down again as they began to ascend the side of what appeared to be the largest hill around the area.

"Ah kilo one, ah kilo one, ah just for fun, ah just for fun!" the sergeants called out as they moved. Marching songs and the like were picked up quickly and repeated by the group. Even McIntosh started to call them out in his low rumbling voice. He was surprised at himself for catching on so quickly to this training regimen so far. Then again, he almost always did the work required of him without a single hitch, and always went above and beyond.

As the trek uphill came to a slow end, the gray sergeant who had identified himself as Sergeant Burnhide, called to the group to slow down. "Now that we've got our blood pumping, I think it's high time we have ourselves our first little contest. Recruits, the first one back to the barracks, gets to sleep for the rest of the day after hitting the mess hall. The rest of you get the rest of the stamina regimen, and trust me, you'll be out until Luna's moon is high in the sky." he called.

With a stomp of his hoof, the group tussled, and took off. A downhill trek was dangerous but some were in a full blown gallop already. Tearing down the side of the hill at a rate that was rather astounding. Then again, sleep was a rather nice reward after what had befallen most of the recruits the last two days.

McIntosh slipped back into his thoughts as he made his way down the hillside at a quick but even pace. He had stamina where the others didn't. As he started to kick up a cloud of dust, he started passing others. Faster, and faster, the great draft horse took off.

He quickly overtook the leader and kept going. They were all slowing down and he had so much more left to him. He made it to the door of the barracks before realizing he was going too fast to stop.

The splinters of the door lay around the floor of the large room. McIntosh had plowed right through the door on accident on his very first day of his selective service training. What a great way to make a mess of all of this...

"Alright you big lunk, looks like you're not going to be with us much longer. This little incident seems to have gotten more attention than you deserve. Somepony high up has got the Colonel's balls in a vice and they're not letting go until you're in Canterlot. Seems as though they've got a plan for a stallion of your size." Burnhide called to him as he walked up to the splintered door.

"If it was any choice of mine, I'd have had your dumb flanks cleaning up this mess. Dust yourself off." the burly Sergeant demanded.

McIntosh's mind was racing. What would they want from him up in Canterlot? Would he get to see his sisters? Canterlot was visible from Ponyville and their farm was just outside of the town...

He was startled when the rest of the recruits that were eyeing him were told to hit the mess hall on the double. He made to follow but Burnhide demanded that he follow him. He was quickly led past the marching columns of recruits and other, more experienced soldiers, into a larger complex that wasn't very visible from the outside view. As they moved through a large set of doors, they made their way to a large set of steps, leading down multiple levels. So the true entirety of this base was underground, Mac though as they made a brisk pace downwards.

Many things interested the great stallion as he made his way downwards. He caught only glimpses of things that he barely had time to register, but at the same time, he had a nearly photographic memory, and was able to remember many of the things he saw. Giant rooms of weaponry, ponies training, sleeping, eating, and many more doing a number of tasks that he could barely begin to imagine the purpose of. Many colts and mares seemed to be dressed in large white coats, almost like the attire of a doctor, and seemed to all be doing something that appeared to be important.

As they neared the bottom, or so it seemed to the great draft horse, they stopped and took a turn off of the stairwell. There, a single armed guard stood at attention, his odd looking weapon at the ready.

"Here's where I leave you son. Not sure if I'll ever see you again to be honest." Burnhide said matter-of-factly.

McIntosh's head was swimming at all he had absorbed so far, but he could feel his heart-rate rising as he considered his own death down here at the hooves of his own brethren. Before he could so much as speak to the guard that the sergeant had left him in company with, the great iron-wrought door behind the guard opened, and he stepped aside and gestured for Mac to enter.

He had nothing else to really do but comply. He stepped across the threshold and noticed a change in the air almost instantly. The door grated shut behind him, and the long, empty hallway loomed before him. He did what anypony would do in his place. He slowly walked forward, feeling a great sense of dread building up in his gut. The lights along the walls were unwavering and the hall seemed to have no end, even if he could clearly see another door not far away. Each step he took, led to the next becoming heavier, and heavier. The strength in him failing, he started to panic. He tried harder and harder to pick up the pace and move forward, but the more he tried, the more difficult each passing second became.

The door came closer and closer, but his goal seemed ever more impossible, until he fell to his knees in front of the iron-wrought portal. His eyes began to darken...

"He is a fantastic specimen. Exactly what I wanted." a great voice near his ear said softly, yet with an air of authority. "Yes, he may not have been trained like them, but I think he has the potential to become even more great...yes." the voice said again.

"We have yet to see anything of him." another voice said. A male it sounded like. Or maybe not. It was deeper in contrast to the first, but Mac had yet to open his eyes.

"He made it to the end of the hallway. Not one of my untested recruits has made it that far on their own. If I recall correctly, you didn't make it more than six steps before succumbing to the enchantments." the first voice retorted in a mildly amused sounding pitch.

"I...he won't make it. He isn't like the others. He has family that depends on him and we can't just brainwash him. He's had enough of a life that it would damage him beyond repair." the second voice said, rather indignantly and quickly.

Great. They were talking about him, the giant red stallion thought. He started to try to move, but found his limbs unresponsive. He tried opening his eyes, but nothing he tried would make them work. What kind of magic was this? His mind floundered about for a while, before he felt a light touch on his cheek.

"You're going to be my proudest achievement." the voice of authority said. This time, is was barely a whisper, and he could feel the breath of the creature against his ear, could smell the aroma of lavender, and knew without a doubt, whoever, and whatever it was, it was a female. "You're going to love me as I love you." the voice cooed.

As soon as the voice faded, his eyes snapped open, and he quickly closed them again. A bright light was shining in his face. He slowly opened his lids again, and let his eyes wander a little more, doing his best to not look at the burning orb in the center of his vision. He then felt his eyes close on their own accord and felt something soft nuzzle his cheek, and a light touch of what felt like lips against his cheek. His sleepiness took over again, and unwillingly, he slipped back in the dark unconsciousness that his enchanted slumber had become.

His first surgeries were starting, and Celestia herself was rather pleased with what she had come up with. She may have lost the advantage of what it was like performing such arduous bits of medical practice on young foals and fillies, but there were advantages to working on a full grown stallion. There was plenty of room for the implanted organs to grow, and many of them would need time to start fully working. Some day she would tell him all of what would be done, but for now, nothing would be said.

His second heart was easy enough, once the arteries had been sufficiently treated with magic to grow more quickly and were all layered to his main flowing points, as well as the implementation of secondary ducts that allowed for this heart to take over as the primary, should the main heart be damaged. It was a marvel. Should his first be damaged, this would just as powerful, and as long as he was fit, this heart would help in regulation of his oxygen and keep his blood flowing. An even greater amount, even.

He would grow tired much less quickly, and have greater reserves in the way of stamina and built up energy.

Next, was his tertiary lung. The tissue in his lungs was being chemically treated to resist much more than any normal lungs could, effectively filtering out poisonous substances, and allowing much more oxygen to be taken in on a normal breath, as well as helping with even distribution. His third lung itself, already being very resistant to bad elements and monoxides. Within a month, his others would be just as hardy.

His bones were a true marvel though. Bound with a substance of her own design, they became thicker and stronger, albeit, almost no more weight was added. The hardened bones could flex more easily, leading to less in the way of fractures and breaks, while at the same time being harder than the strongest steel.

Yes, all of her Sun Guard were like this, but this beautiful stallion would be unique.

"I want you to go ahead with the Res-cell," the Queen said with an absolute authority. The surgeon to her left nodded his head once in fealty as he took a small liver shaped organ, no bigger than a tooth, and attached it to a series of connective tissue stands along the front of his ribcage. In time the ribs would grow larger and form inwards, creating a much more solid plate of bone in their wake. This little organ would make this happen, as well as lend to him an effect of incredibly quick regeneration, beyond that of a normal Sun Guard member.

This was tested not an hour later, as they cut off the supply of blood to the great stallion's body, which was to be fatal during a surgery of this caliber.

He died on that table.

Two hours later, his heart started itself, and his brain had been fully preserved from the adverse effects of death. His cold flesh started warming up, blood flowing through his veins and his other organs waking up from their dormant state, any dead cells regenerating within another two hours.

From there, the second Res-cell was implanted within him. As he was closed up, the blood around his wounds began to clot and the skin and fur began to seal and regrow in place. The scar would be gone within another two or so days, leaving nothing in the way a trace that he had been operated on.

A small incision was made on his left leg not five minutes later. The blood clotted on contact with his flesh, and crusted over while the flesh began to knit again.

"The first session seems to be fully successful, my Queen. He is an exceptional specimen," a small white unicorn mare said in the direction of the regent.

"Yes he is, my dearest Lazarus. Yes, he is."

Mac knew he was awake again. He could feel a pain in his back. Pain meant he was awake. Pain meant he was still alive. Dark, black, red, writhing, burning, PAIN.

His eyes opened this time, and he was no longer in a dark room with a light shoved in his face. He was in a bed. A rather large, round bed, in the middle of an enormous room, covered in all sorts of decorations. Paintings seemed to be the most prominent. Great portraits of regal nobility that he didn't give even the slightest hint of a damn for.

Except...for the largest one hanging above the door in front of him. Celestia didn't seem so regal in this as she seemed...seductive. He found himself somewhat...entranced by it. The regal Princess, laid out on a great sheet, sleek and beautiful, her eyes demanding...it was...he needed to get away from it.

He quickly stepped through the wooden door, happily finding it was unlocked.

What was on the other side was even more breathtaking.

He found himself in a hallway. An enormous pane of glass was a few feet in front of him, and a great view on the other side of it. It appeared as though he was still underground, but that he was stories above the floor. He could see the edges of the staircase he had traversed down and realized he was still outside of Trottingham at the Academy.

"Grand, is it not?" a voice said behind him. Of all of the sights he had beheld so far in his life, this one took the grand prize.

Princess...no, QUEEN Celestia, stood before him. He dropped to his knees in submission to her grandeur and wisdom, but found her laughing at him.

"Rise. I may demand fealty of others, but you are a special case to me." she said.

That was when it hit him. The voice that he heard when he slipped in and out of consciousness...that was Her. Celestia. Speaking of him.

"Your....your Majesty...what is it that I, an apple farmer, could do to deserve your attentions?" he managed to stammer at her.

She smiled at this and then licked her lips. "There are a great many things I would have you do, but there will be time for that later my dearest. For now, I just want you to follow me. Interesting things lie ahead for you, myself being among them." she stated.

His thoughts raced at this, but he was unable to really respond to such forwardness. Especially from someone so exalted as the Queen.