A Hero Untold

The explanation was feeble. Wolfram was usually opposed to dishonesty, and as a result he was not so skilled at it. Although his tale was clearly unbelievable, he was quick with words and even his intelligent father could find no errors in his recollection of events. His father was opposed to acting without reason, so he gave up trying to peck holes in Wolfram's story and allowed him to rest. Wolfram however, had trouble allowing himself the same liberty.

His mind was even more troubled than it was before he was rudely awoken, and this did not make for easy rest. But his physical exhaustion eventually overpowered his mind, and he managed to get to sleep just as the sun started to rise. The rays of the great star breaking into his dreams, and making them a tad more chaotic than he was used to. When he was to awake, he would find himself wishing to live underground like Amp did.

Along with that desire, he awoke to sharp aching in his stomach. Very acute hunger had overtaken him, and his only thought was to find something to eat. He did not check the time, or try to recall any obligations he had made. He quickly trotted down the stairs and into the kitchen, on the way he glanced at his father's still out of shape armour. It had a note attached to it.

Bring this to the blacksmith when you get up. Try not to get distracted or blown up this time.

A clear message, his father did not buy his story. Wolfram was now void of all hope that maybe his father would not notice. This did not make him forget his hunger. Wolfram ate a lot, and he was no worse for it. He fancied that he was so strong because he ate so much, but there were certainly other ponies who dwarfed that hypothesis.

Within a few minutes he had crafted himself a sandwich. Masterful flavour and composition, containing seemingly absurd things that he discovered through trial and error were a lot tastier on a sandwich than one would think. However, the creation was not so visually appealing. It resembled a section of compacted trash cut out in a rectangular prism sort of shape. The condiments soaked through the bread, and the solids spilled out the sides. Wolfram never cared for appearance in anything much, except art.

With quick action, and efficient technique he ate his meal. Still not recognizing how correct this was, due to the time. He sulked around for a bit, procrastinating before he had to go run his father's errand. He simply thought, and worried a little. Wondering what faction could want him in captivity so much. But he was sure that without the element of surprise he could deal with more than a few of them.

Eventually Wolfram picked himself, and his father's armour up. He headed out the door, toward the blacksmith again. This time he told himself he wouldn't run into any trouble, and he certainly would not be going through any alleys this time. Once outside he noticed something odd. The sun was in a position more akin to evening than morning, unless he had somehow forgotten which way was west. He pondered, and the thought crossed him that he may have overslept by almost twelve hours.

That seemed ridiculous though, he must have just been thinking funny from such a rough night.

Taking a walk to the blacksmith without any shortcuts was actually a lot shorter than he worried, and he ran into no trouble on the way. Perhaps caution was the way to go when it came to suburban travel. But whatever he decided, he had made it there without discovering one child in need, or being stopped by one half-minded thug.

"Hey Brandy." Wolfram approached the smith casually. He and the smith, Brandy, would talk often while Wolfram pumped the furnace for him.

"A fine evening to ya, lad." Brandy's choice of words made Wolfram worry that he actually had overslept by half a day.

"Ye brought yer father's armour did ye? Got beaten up again did he? Tsk, tsk." The smith continued in his thick accent.

"You're sure you meant 'evening,' Brandy?" Wolfram asked worriedly.

Brandy took a swig from a bottle he levitated off of his anvil "Aye, it's five o' the bloody clock, lad. Ye gone blind?" He gestured to the looming clock tower in the distance, which clearly read 'five o' the bloody clock.'

With the matter of lost time in his mind Wolfram recalled a previous obligation, and that was to see Amp. Today.

"Just fix the armour and hold it until I or my father come to pick it up alright?" Wolfram asked quickly, and expected no verbal response. He began galloping away, behind him Brandy shouted something about bad manners and insulted honour. Wolfram had no time.

He ran through the lower city, wishing more and more he had bothered to get horse shoes. The gravel roads were painful to run on, and his weight just ground his hooves further into the earth. In a hurry this time, Wolfram broke his previous plan of not going though any alleys. This was a bad mistake.

As he rounded a corner, a medium sized equine form landed lightly in front of him. Completely black, with some clear gear on it's person. Wolfram skidded to a halt , surprised and frustrated. Sooner, rather than later, Wolfram was surrounded by another three of these ponies. They were all smaller than him, but their pitch black uniforms and ominous gear made him worry.

Without warning they all lashed out in perfect unison, and started making flurries of strikes against Wolfram. There was no reasonable way to dodge them, and Wolfram found himself struck several times. The blows were strong, but Wolfram was all too used to that sort of thing, and he shrugged each one off with an increasingly angry grunt each time.

He simply barreled into one as a response. Or he tried to anyway. With lightning fast reflexes, it dodged and sprung backward out of his way. Wolfram was about to try flying upward to get a body slam in, when one of them drew an item. it started spinning a rope with a weight at either end around it's hoof, and released it. The device flew toward wolfram and clipped one of his wings. Quite literally, the weapon hit him and spun around his wing, tearing and damaging many of the feathers. This made any flight almost impossible for a pegasus.

All the while he was still being assaulted by the other three. He was fed up with this hit and run style combat, so he took a few more hits. Waiting for the perfect opening. Just as he was beginning to doubt this plan, one of the ponies became a little cocky and tried a risky move. It span around, and was going to try a powerful hind kick on Wolfram, which certainly would have been enough to knock him over.

Wolfram had been waiting for something just like this though. He ducked under the kick, and head butted the pony in its stomach from behind, flipping it over, before he kicked it hard enough to send it sliding into a wall. It stood up shakily, but shrugged off any pain it was feeling and went back at Wolfram, who was still playing defensive.

A little too much time passed, and the masked attackers were still at full speed. Wolfram was getting worn out though. No matter how many hits he made against them, they seemed to be able to recover more quickly than he could take another out. His skin was starting to get awfully tender from the repeated, relatively weak blows, too.

They were now all on Wolfram's front at least, but he was being backed into a wall. he couldn't fly, he couldn't seem to beat them. Wolfram was starting to get seriously worried. He did not directly observe this, but he had led all three of them on to a manhole covering. An unintentional move which was about to save him.

Suddenly, the plate of iron blasted upward from under the hooves of the attackers, and they all went flying. They were more stunned than they had ever been in this fight. The smoke from the blast cleared, and Wolfram saw a familiar face. It was Amp, there to take pity on his helplessness again.

"You're late. Get in the hole." She said, completely disregarding the faceless enemies lying askew about her.

Wolfram did not protest, he jumped down the hole after Amp. He did this before remembering one of his wings was out of order, and ended up slamming his shoulder into hard cement. He left a small crack in the ground, but decided not to say anything, and followed Amp further into her tunnels.

Wolfram made several inquiries, 'Where are we going, why did you want to see me, do you know who those guys were' that sort of thing. But Amp either answered sarcastically, or too fleetingly to be relevant. She was focusing on something specific, which was rare for her. It frustrated Wolfram none the less.

Eventually they came upon a large, round, vault-like door. Amp opened it with a series of seemingly random handle twists which she made in amazing time. The room within was well lit, and full of mechanical marvels. Strange machines that Wolfram could not name for the life of him, and dwarfed even Amp's other creations in complexity. Something that caught his eye more immediately was what looked a lot like a skeletal wing on a table, but it was made of bronze and steel parts, not bone.

Amp continued walking down the massive, square, cement room. Past tables with vice grips, cubicles with vents, and racks with tools. Until she came to a traditional looking wooden trunk. It was contrasted by the highly industrial surroundings, looking more like something from an antique shop.

"My father's dossiers." Amp explained. "He kept them in what looked like a simple case, but the lock is more complex than any locksmith knows."

Amp took out a device, that looked like a mechanical spider with a light bulb as it's rear body. She released the thing onto the trunk, and it began to move. It crawled it's way shakily over to the lock, and gripped it tightly, before the light bulb flickered on. Amp spoke into it .

"Theus ex machina, deus ex mortalis."

She then used her teeth to systematically pluck each of the spider's legs, presumably in a preset fashion which determined the validity of the pony who tried to open it. After which the spider crawled along amps leg, and back into her tool belt. The trunk opened, revealing a mass of parchments.

Without any visible marking system, Amp drew a series of three papers out with certainty, and slammed the box shut behind her. She laid the papers out before her on a rough iron table and said "These papers very clearly show that the people who have now made two attempts at capturing you are a cult. The leader is not known officially, but much is known about them."

"Like what?"

"They are very ruthless, prone to violence in anger, and zealous beyond all rationality. Oddly enough, the faith that they serve cannot be identified as of yet."

"What are we going to do about it?"

"I like that kind of attitude. All my logic points to them wanting you as an ally though."

"They have an odd way of proposing deals." Wolfram gave a light huff of amusement at his own comment.

"True, but that's all that we can expect from the deeply religious. Another faction is in play though. According to my surveillance the federals want you on their side too. They seem to think you some kind of ruthless brute who can be shaped into an instrument of war."

"And the cultists think the same thing."

"Exactly." Amp said proudly.

Some further discussion took place, regarding methods of dealing with the people trying to capture Wolfram. Wolfram made it clear he did not want to work for anyone who was currently offering, and Amp showed Wolfram what her dossiers indicated the factions would most likely do. Only after a long discussion did Amp realize her manners, she had been disregarding the injury she had noticed on Wolfram.

"Oh, you should probably get that wing dealt with." She said, trying to sound like she didn't care.

"Yeah, I don't suppose you're a medical doctor."

"Actually..." Amp trailed off, reluctant to continue.

"Actually what?" Wolfram asked

"Well I never actually took the oath. I dropped out before I could get the degree, but I know more than I'd need to to get one."

"Heck, I trust anyone who can drop out of school because they understand it too well." Wolfram said.

Amp didn't seem so confident though. Wolfram convinced her to try to help despite her reluctance. He soon found the source of her reluctance. She didn't have any anesthetic which wasn't actually poisonous. Wolfram knew dealing with an injury was worse than dealing with pain though, so he submitted to any procedure she had.

Amp poured some pure ethanol on the largest gash in his wing, it stung more than getting the wound in the first place. Wolfram knew he needed help though, so he did his best not to scrunch his face in pain at the treatment. After some gauze was applied, and his wing no longer hurt distinctly Wolfram erroneously thought it was over. Just as he stood up, Amp came out of no where and stuck a large needle into his side, draining the contents into his body.

"Ah, crap!" Wolfram shouted, more surprised than hurt.

"Yeah, sorry. That should help you heal faster. Unless that was the beta solution..." Amp suggested more to herself.

"What was that?" Wolfram demanded angrily.

"Metabolic hyperactivity solution. Eat more, and you'll heal and grow faster. Unless it was the beta solution, then I should really get some ammonium nitrate into your body. Do you feel light headed, or weak in the knees yet?"

"No." Wolfram huffed.

"Good, it's not the beta solution. You're fine."

Wolfram was about to voice his frustration at Amp's disorderly mannerisms, but he knew it would lost on her. Instead he changed the subject.

"So the federals are going to arrive in three days?"

"That's right." Amp said certainly.

"And the cult will have a full task force assembled to take me in three days?"

"Unless new variables come into play." She clarified.

"Well, that would make for an interesting job interview." Wolfram mumbled.

"They are both going to be willing to use brute force to capture you, their current leaders are far beyond reckless."

"Collateral damage would be unavoidable..." Wolfram trailed off, he knew what logic would require of him.

"As such, the only logical course of action is evasion." Amp said, following Wolfram's thoughts exactly. Or perhaps leading them.

Wolfram thanked Amp for the knowledge and began to leave the tunnel system, when Amp called out to him, just barely in earshot still.

"Wait! I need you to do something!" Wolfram turned around and walked closer to hear better.

"What?" He inquired.

"Get over here, you'll need a map." Amp gestured for him to come withing range to pass items, and he did so.

Amp handed him a rolled up parchment. "If you get a chance, follow that. It leads to a set of ruins that might have something vital to some of my research. I wrote more detailed instructions, and a reward, on the back."

"This is starting to sound like one of those games uncle Gary would always play with my dad."

"Let's hope it doesn't end the same." Amp said

"With all the heroes dead at the hands of some colossal beast." Wolfram finished.