Carbon Copy

She couldn't believe it. That.. thing, was still down in the hole. She knew it couldn't have been there, she'd checked, yet here it was. The orange eyes were two slits in a green mask, iris diaphragm apertures shifting slightly as they closed to adapt to the brighter lights. The black legs were as long a minotaur's, with the armored body reaching just above the height of Wintercrest on his back legs. But the mask... It looked like it was meant to protect. Two ridges formed above the eyes, creating artificial eyebrows. No signs of a mouth were seen, instead a vertical protrusion gentle sloped back toward the neck from the eyes. The cheeks ran the same course of a plated helmet, covering the head in a metallic wrap, ending behind the jaw. Three point curved upwards from where the crown would be, creating sharp lines running to a point between his slitted eyes.

And yet, Rustic Rune had met this person before. A helpful, questioning spirit that had learned much from her in the past week, yet had mysteriously vanished nearly thirty six hours ago. Now he'd reappeared from the same whole he'd been found in, seemingly fitted with a new body. Still, she couldn't be sure.

"Were you in the fourth or fifth row of the workshop?" Tesla piped up.

Yep, definitely the same person. "Wait, how did you-"

"Magic," he replied, mockingly brushing his fingernails against his chest on an imaginary coat.

"That wasn't magic," she stubbornly refuted, sensing no magic had emanated from him.

"Course it was."

"No, it wasn-"

"I'm starting to chaffe," came an unbearable whine, distracting the bickering pair, both of whom were just beginning to enjoy the argument. As one, both beings turned to the pony in question, a dark brown stallion with a hard look in his eye. Seeing the two looking at him, he made his display again, mimicking the falsetto from earlier. "If the both of ya don't shaddap I'll bite meh leg off."

After a brief pause, Tesla began pulling the magic restricting rings off the unicorns, starting with Rustic Rune, who in turn unlocked the shackles. A minute later and the majority of the slaves were free, their varying bulk ranging from malnourished to body builder, leaving only a few small pockets that were still locked up. As more ponies and griffins were freed, a group of mixed species came to Tesla lead by a cocky young pegasus, a grin spread from ear to ear.

"What can we do to help?" It was a rather unexpected question, although Tesla was looking for people to help get out.

"Uh, let's see... Try rounding up some weapons and get them in capable hands. I have no idea on how to get out of here, find someone with knowledge of the area. Plan a way of escape from there, I'll meet up with you later. I need to make some preparations. Try to leave in fifteen minutes, half hour tops," he recommended, deferring responsibility to the colt before him.

"Alright, the Sky Swords won't let ya down," replied the brown colt, turning to his posse to get the orders out. Now that Tesla looked at them they were all pegasi or griffins of varying age with notable scars on each of them, about ten total.

The biped left though, looking for anything that would be good within immediate vicinity of the mine. A door on the side of the wall had caught his notice, the word 'Cleen' carved into the old wood. With a quick step to the side, he pulled a small gem lantern from the wall, entered the closet, and closed the door behind him. With a widening smile, he liked what he saw: chemicals, lots and lots of chemicals.

Rustic Rune watched as the group of betrayed mercs ordered groups into line, placing the unicorns as the second line of defense. There they'd be able to touch on both offense and offensive defense, grabbing both weapons and shields with telekinetic auras that would leave their captors defenseless. Still, Tesla had gone off somewhere, a bad sign in the past and likely a bad sign now. it was too late to be thinking about that now though, her hooves quivered against the floor in fear. They'd march out in a minute.

"Hey, hold on a minute!" That familiar voice shouted from the entrance, toting two bags on his back. The group warily turned to face him, armed with pieced together shovels and pickaxes brandished as their weapons. Of course, nobody knew what he was up to. Still, a few individuals commented quietly about his impeccable timing.

"What in Tartarus are ya doing? Grab yaself a shovel, we're leaving," commanded the leader of the Sky Swords, a shovel hefted beneath his wing.

Tesla pulled a bag from over his shoulder, easily tearing the meshed material apart. Inside was a fine white powder, looking suspiciously like sand. "Alright everyone, gather around. This is lye. It's a highly reactive chemical, especially when exposed to water. Someone spit on a shovel head and put it in front of me."

Obligingly so the group could start moving, the brown Sky Sword dropped his shovel on the ground, hawking a huge loogie onto the iron tool. Slowly, the kneeling machine sprinkled some lye onto the sliding mucous. Almost the instant it started bubbling, heat was immediately felt by the colt, Tesla just looked onward.

"Aim for their faces, we can grab more on the way out. If you get any in you eyes, you will likely go blind. Unicorns will be the only ones to handle it. If any of it gets on you don't rinse it off with water," he said, making sure to look around to get everyone's attention, "If you do, it will be the worst pain you've ever felt. Wash it off with vinegar, the vinegar will neutralize the reaction. Everyone clear?"

The handful of unicorns in the group nodded in sync, two accepting the bags, keeping them upright in glowing auras to keep the harsh chemical from spilling. Each bag weighed about five pounds, and the powder might have been mistaken for flour at a distance. After getting everyone back in line the group started pushing for the exit; their guide the same brown colt that had been leading the military organization.

"I never caught your name," Tesla said to the colt, keeping his eye out for the janitor's closet.

"Never got yers either."

"Tesla. I'm new here."

"Hmph, couldn't tell ya apart from the rest. Wind Runner. Good to see ya. That the closet yer lookin' for?" He nodded toward the closet after his introduction, earning a quick thanks from the being standing next to him.

A minute's pause at the hole in the wall was rewarded with another twenty pounds of lye, spreading it to six of the seven available unicorns. Instead of heading right towards the surface though, Wind Runner took them to the left, downward, and earned several complaints, even a condemnation for working with the diamond dogs.

"Shaddap ya fillies. We're leaving on the train. Fewer guards."

That quelled the small amounts of bickering, earning a mumbling agreement instead. Otherwise, the group was quiet, all eyes looking for the first guard, but all was still. Things were looking up for the ragtag group.

Guard Dog was woken from his sleep, swiping a set of sharpened claws towards the disturbance, caught by the forearm of his wife.

"What did I say about waking up like that? You going to hurt someone like that," she replied with a sly smile on her muzzle, diffusing his initial bout of anger in an instant. "A guard's here, there's been a breakout," she soothed, handing over the trusted armor that had kept her husband safe for so long. "Stay safe, and here's a gem to hold you over until dinner." With that she revealed a thimble sized sapphire, tucking it into his armored paw. He'd always been fast to slip into that armor, one of the things he said would make the difference between life and death.

"Keep Rose safe for me. See you when I get back."

Guard Dog gave a peck on the cheek to his wife before popping the gem into his mouth on his way out the door, What went wrong now?

Below the ragtag group of soldiers looked out from around the corner, trying to assess how to get to the train. Before them stood several dozen guards overlooking the workers, making sure the minotaurs were staying in line, the crack of a whip prevalent through the din of hoofsteps striking the flagstone floor. Dangling from the walls like vines were industrial elevators designed to carry the materials coming off the trains to the surface. More guards were being brought down, their weathered armor clinking together lightly as the elevators vibrated.

"Alright, here's the plan. We get to the train, and leave," started Wind Runner, cut off by a taller unicorn next to him.

"Does anypony know how to drive a train?" She asked, curious as to how they'd leave.

Tesla leaned back from around the corner, stoically adding more to the conversation. "It looks like a pony is still in the driver's seat. We might need to take a hostage or-"

"That won't work. Those dogs don't care about losses, as long as they get the slaves back," replied Wind Runner, his shovel propped between the stone floor and his wing. "I don't know how we're going to get through."

"That's why I grabbed the lye."

A large group broke from around the bend, shattering the tenseness of waiting for the attack. As one, the dogs raised their shields and braced their lances, preparing for impact. Like a wave, the slaves washed over the first line, avoiding the flailing lances from the guards. They scratched at their eyes, the lye burning away the cornea. Another volley of lye pellets kept the dogs at bay, their distraught forms impeding those trying to herd the ponies and griffins together. The lye only was going to work for so long though, their supplies dwindling with each shot.

Tesla stood at the front of the group, wading among the mass of fur, kicking at the armored dogs that kept getting underfoot. The sound of released steam brought his attention back the the elevators, their descent implying reinforcements.

"Everyone to the train! Follow me!" he bellowed, trailblazing through the sea of moving flesh, the void being filled by angered bodies hellbent on salvation. The pressure eased towards the end, courtesy of minotaurs throwing the filled crates into the crowd of guards, immobilizing several at a time. From the left converged the factory workers, having finally made their way down to the tracks, throwing the nearest guards into the fray.

Th first group boarded the flat cars behind the coal car, two pegasi flapping to the conductor to explain what was going on. On the cars stood the slaves, jabbing with shovels at anyone who tried to come on board that was wearing armor. A large portion of the guards were still writhing on the ground, their eyes and nostrils burning from the burns by the lye. The train started forward, moving slowly with a slight lurch. Behind the battle line cowered the old and young, doing their best to simply stay on the train. The minotaurs climbed on the back cars, using the new source of ammunition to harass the swarm trying to board the train.

Still, an eerie scene blossomed at the back of the battle. Shining metal strode through ranks of the fallen, an unnatural calm in a sea of violence. Among them stood a taller diamond, lean with muscle and armed with a kopesh, stilling those around him through presence alone. Fearlock's coat looked like a winter storm at night, white spots covering a black velvet. His breastplate gleamed silver, adorned with flowing symbols and designs in a bright red. The guards around him had the same armor right down to the rivet, the only difference was that they were armed with spears instead of a weaponized sickle.

"It's Fearlock!"

The train was still moving out of the station, the wheels clicking over each section of rail. Before the group could react, the elite group took the train by storm, the scarlet curtain slowly pushing out from the center of the moving train. The last car had just pulled out of the station, leaving the majority of the guards behind. Instead the escapees now faced a much more potential threat, the diamond dog Alpha leading a charge from the center of the train.

A brown blur shot through the light of a gem lantern, followed by a large exhale of breath and a scream. A guard had fallen off the car, taken out in a kamikaze move by a living bullet. The blur disappeared in the dark again only to return seconds later with a shield clenched in his mouth. Much to his name, Wind Runner was streaking up and down the corridor with great haste, forcing the the invaders to duck any time they heard the shrill whistle of pegasus wings. Others had taken up similar tactics, continuing the barrage from all angles.

He merely looked onward, watching as the carnage unfolded, unsettling his stomach as he stood back from the front lines. Tesla stood like a statue, his cold metallic limbs unmmoving. From behind his mask the deep orange apertures watched, tracking the reflexes of battle. A pegasus would swoop in, but the dog would already be turning to face them, skewering the poor soul or becoming airborn. The alpha was on a completely different level, his wide eyes mostly unmoving, keeping watch over the bigger picture while his ears swiveled behind and to his sides, an active sonar keeping watch over his back, the equivalent of sleepin with one eye open.

One by one the pegasi fell beside the griffins, a lengthened knife being the cause. The unicorns picked up the slack in the meantime, their invisible tendrils pulling at the spears and armor, slipping off, but still harassing the guards while the flying attackers finished the job. Meanwhile Tesla was standing back, not wanting to enter the fight. In his hand hung a small sack of lye, hanging limply as he looked on.

"Hey! Machine, get in their. Yer armored." Idly flapping behind him was that Sky Sword, the one who'd started attacking from above. His breathing looked labored, a large cut along the right side of his ribs, blood slowly oozing from the opening in the skin. When Tesla stood there in shock the pegasus started pushing him toward the battle, which the machine resisted, but couldn't deny the logic. His instinct for self preservation was too strong. "Get in there, or yer responsible fer the deaths today!"

Tesla stopped at that point, looking back at Wind Runner. "Thanks, I needed that." He stole himself before anything could distract him again, gently making his way towards the dwindling battle. Eight guards remained, the oak boards slick with the blood of all species. He gripped the bag in his hand tighter, stepping over the gap between train cars.

Attention immediately turned to him, his glowing orange eyes the only thing visible in his pitch silhouette. That was all that was needed for the attackers to send another three onto speeding ground beneath them. The dogs warily circled together, Fearlock facing Tesla. A wiry griffin with a crazed look in his eye came from behind only to be cut down by a flick of the kopesh. He was dead before his front half hit the deck, the other hitting a moment later. The teen audibly gulped, sending a smile onto the helmetless face of the diamond dog staring him down.

I'm screwed. No experience, not fully familiar with my new body yet, and have no armor. All I have it a bag of lye and no way to get it into his eyes. The whistle of the wind caught his ear, striking inspiration. Slowly, he moved forward, step by cautious step. If he fell, he'd ruin the lye by getting it wet. Still, the results would be best if he could get everyone's attention.

"I'm surprised you made it this far Fearlock. Your fighting prowess is truly formidable." He held up his right hand in a fist, signalling the attacks to stop and were graciously received by the fliers, their breaths coming hard from not using their muscles. "Join me, and you will not have to fear death. Otherwise, I will condemn the rest of your days to a living hell."

The dogs looked on in astonishment for a second before howling with laughter. How was something that cliche supposed to prove him a better leader? The remainder of the guard were so busy laughing that they didn't notice the silhouette spread its arms wide, proclaiming in a thunderous voice, "So be it! You shall be struck blind, every breath like fire, until the end of your days," and burst the bag in a metallic clapping sound, sending the powdered lye to the wind and into the inhaling maws of the elite guard, their laughing turning to cries of pain, the alpha included. Their weapons fell as their arms rose to scratch at their eyes and throats.

"Slow down the train, we'll leave them as an example if anyone should follow." The armored exterior of the standing machine was without a scratch but the personality within writhed in pain. He'd actively sought out and condemned a person to a life of hell, practically blind and virtually given a bad case of asthma if the lye spread into the lungs far enough. He'd never do that on Earth, he'd always strike from the shadows.

He watched as the families grouped together as the train slowed down, easing to a stop after several minutes. There was Rustic Rune and her uncle, both quietly crying into the other's mane, her cracked spectacles sending her river of tears down the side of her face. Wintercrest and Helena were sitting against each other, watching the other groups. Two of the minotaurs had survived, each with nasty cuts that would probably get infected if they didn't recieve aid quickly. Silently, he picked up a shovel and set off for the train engine, knowing there would be at least a few people who were going to bitch about the first aid they needed.

Soon enough the wounded came off their adrenaline highs, feeling their beaten bodies start shutting down. Several had already fainted, and several more were falling. Most of them were the pegasi and griffins that had attacked, although the minotaurs were clearly in pain as well. By the time Tesla reemerged, carrying with him a red hot iron shovel, a group had placed the remaining guards on the tracks. Slowly, he made his rounds, cauterizing the wounds closed, offering a piece of leather for them to bite before administering the healing process.

"Tesla!"

The machine never faltered, keeping the suffering to a minimum when he burnt the cuts closed. He checked the color of the shovel, seeing that it wouldn't work for cauterizing and got up, leaving the scorched metal resting near his feet. "Yeah? I'm busy."

It was Wind Runner and his colleagues, presenting him the lengthened scythe that Fearlock had terrorized them with. Hesitantly, he accepted, bending over and throwing the shovel off the side of the car. Wordlessly he returned to the train engine, coming back with a glowing sword in hand. Once again the attention was brought back to him, but vocalized by the Sky Swords.

"What have you done?" one shouted, followed by another's response clarifying the action. "You've ruined the temper of the blade!" The second was holding his hooves to his head in shock, outraged face appearing murderous in the passing gem lights.

"I know, but this will work better to heal, and I won't be leaving shards of metal in any wounds," he said, walking past the pair, gesturing to a minotaur as his next patient.

"Boss, he ruined it!"

"Let him be," Wind Runner sagely replied. "Medical tools evolved from weapons. He's fixing the wounds with an over sized scalpel. Be thankful ya helped others indirectly, and don't complain just 'cause he's helping others."

Even so, the three looked on, watching him travel from pony to griffin to minotaur, healing without thanks, yet remaining stoic. Through fire, he gave his weary mind peace, yet did not sleep. A way to give back for any grief he'd caused those injured.

Through fire the maimed were initiated into their first steps of freedom, bearing with them the scars of slavery... and the price of liberty.