CryCiety - International Cry Research and Theory Development Association
Vault 76, File 168
Notice: it is a federal crime to read past this point in this document. Desist now or face the full penalty of law.
The lights flickered out in the old mansion-like Victorian house - the kind with the wraparound porch and the rotting window-blinds. There was a quiet sigh as the closet door in the upper master's bedroom opened with a squeak. It was just another day in the life of Cry, the man whose true name has been concealed for decades (but we're pretty sure it's Ryan).
There was another squeak as he hopped into bed with the last of his energy. He knew his performance had been slipping recently - after all, he could only muster 1,652 hits on the practice dummy before he broke a sweat. Maybe he was just stressing himself out. He knew he shouldn't have pressed his fear of alligators by having the terrarium installed into the bottom of his pool.
Well, he'd figure it out tomorrow. He threw a final glance around his room, going through the 'Goodnight Moon' rhyme in his head (with some substitutions). Goodnight, wrappers. Goodnight, canary. Goodnight, laptop I stole from Jim Carrey. Goodnight, plushies. Goodnight, Jack Horner. Goodnight, small Beatles shrine over in the corner.
Finally, he looked to his left as glorious sleep began to overtake him, and smiled as a bright white shape took form in the pale moonbeam that hit his bedside table. He reached out a relatively tired arm and grabbed it loosely, tossing it onto his face before pulling the bright blue antique quilt over himself and stretching out to sleep.
However, everything wasn't quite as carefree amongst the cosmos.
~~~
Another rumble shot through the ground below. Twilight Sparkle was thrown off her hooves, and went sprawling across the ash-covered marble floor of the main hall. Adrenalin still pumping throughout her body tore her mind away from the pain and directed it to her mentor, who was struggling under a broken marble column.
The air was heavy with the otherworldly sounds of lasers and whirring as the mechanical beasts decimated what was left of Canterlot outside of the castle. But all of it was drowned out as she broke into a frenzied gallop. "PRINCESS!" she cried, fresh tears stinging her eyes.
"Twilight!" Celestia replied, pulling her wings out from underneath the column. "Are you alright?!"
Twilight nodded hurriedly. "Where's Luna?" she shouted as another explosion rocked the building.
"Some of your friends were seen trying to get to the castle! Luna's trying to get them back to the bunkers!"
Twilight's eyes flickered with uncountable emotions. "B-but I told them to go! I - I told them to leave! Why wouldn't they listen to me?" She felt a new wave of tears fall down her cheeks. "They could be hurt, or k -"
"They returned to you because they're your friends, Twilight," Celestia responded briskly, forcing what was left of her own energy to her horn, and it began to glow a celestial gold. "I - have a spell than will summon one of seven saviours to the bunker. And you better be there when he arrives."
Twilight's fear only increased as she heard her mentor groan in pain as the light around her horn began to swell. She stood back, ready to gallop away, as a beam of light, as bright as the sun, shot through the sky like an arrow of gold. With a final shout of 'NOW GO!' from Celestia, a last thought crossed her mind.
"B - but what about you?!" she cried.
"Twilight, I'm an alicorn goddess. I'll be okay. Get the heck out of here."
Twilight shook her head, and turned, screwing her eyes shut. Without looking back, she galloped away, dodging falling pieces of what used to be an intricately-carved ceiling mural and out the dangerously-sagging doorway.
This is where the timestreams overlap.
Cry had always compared the early-morning light to egg yolk, transformed into a gas, with sparkles in it. This time, though, it wasn't quite the same. It was a different light that penetrated his eyelids this time. Synthetic lights. And not even the good kind, the yellow kind that hurts your brain if you stare at it for too long.
He reached an arm up to his mouth and coughed - before realizing that he couldn't come into contact with his nose. He opened his eyes tiredly, vaguely remembering putting his mask on for shots and googles the night before, and shook his head. He smirked at his own random stupidity as he slipped a finger under the mask.
But something interrupted him. Suddenly, his heart paused. Just for a moment. He felt beneath him with his free hand. It didn't feel like Egyptian cotton. That made sense, considering he didn't own any Egyptian cotton, but he did own a mattress, which he was sleeping on. And he couldn't feel it.
He heard a clatter - like wood on stone - coming from his closet area. His first thought was gremlins, but that was due to him watching Gremlins the week before and the fact that movies stuck in his mind for unreasonable amounts of time.
He inhaled deeply through his nose. It was a good thing that the mask was made of that cool Underarmour stuff, or else he wouldn't have smelled it.
Quesadilla.
Quesadillas were the prime example of breakfast foods. But he lived alone. He descended immediately into total panic mode, and sat up in... 'bed', blinking his eyes rapidly to clear them up since rubbing was out of the question. He reached across the mask and proceeded to tear it off - or try to.
He let out a cry of shock when his flesh moved along with the mask, like it was a really, really adhesive band-aid. He reached across again, screwed his eyes shut, and pulled once more. Another short cry, one of pain, as nothing moved. He sprung out of... 'bed' and looked back and forth, his vision clearing.
This wasn't his room.
He gasped, and shuddered, before taking off at first instinct through the rather low doorway. It was a good thing he was more 'Captain Kirk'-sized than 'Stephen Merchant'-sized. However, as he took his second frenzied step, he was stopped dead in his tracks by something in the middle of the hospital-like corridor.
He let out a squeak of confusion. In front of him was a small... thing... coloured orange, with golden yellow hair and a tail the same colour, staring at him with huge golden eyes. Then, he noticed the symbol on its arse and put two and six together.
He sighed, regaining a bit of his sanity. It was just some odd-looking cattle. Brand and all. It was cute, but he must be in some kind of Russian lab or something. It was nice for an underground lab. He continued past it, more briskly walking and less running, all the while trying desperately not to look into its unearthly big, shiny eyes.
"Wait!"
He stopped dead in his tracks again, his blood freezing again. It had not been a good morning. He turned his head slowly, begging himself by this point that he'd died and gone to wherever and that this wasn't real life. "D-" He stopped himself, and cleared his throat. "D-did you... say something?" he asked haltingly.
"Well, of course! I've been wanting to talk to you all -"
It wasn't able to finish its sentence. Cry collapsed on the cold tile floor, opening his mouth to scream even though he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to. "B - guh - n -" he stuttered. "Th- the Russians - I have t - to report this - wh-where's my phone? I need Panetta's number -"
"Are you okay, uh, ma'am?"
"I'm a sir!" he replied indignantly, wincing as his voice broke. "I... oh, God, I'm talking to a thing. It's not human."
"I'm in earshot, sir," it replied, scoffing. "You're supposed to save Equestria? Fat chance."
He gave up briefly. Get accustomed now, understand later. Basic infiltration, chapter 2. "Wh - where am I, did you say?"
"Equestria. Boy, do you need to catch up."
"Boy, do I," he agreed quietly, sliding over to the wall and covering his crotch with his hands as well as he could. Well, if there were sentient cattle about who could speak the King's English, was it really important to cover up your morning wood?
He was still debating this dilemma when he heard more clatter, like from earlier, to his right. He looked over, already exhausted of the insanity going on around him. He was barely surprised when he saw another one of the things, a bright purple one, in a little coat like it was tailor-made for... whatever species it was.
"What the hell do you need?" he asked in an almost pleading way as it approached. "You gonna probe me? Clone me and take over the world? Go ahead. I don't even care. This is all a dream, or I'm insane, or something like -"
He was interrupted. Whatever it was hadn't said a word, but instead had leaned down and hugged him. Or something. The first thing he noticed was that it had hooves (so that's what they were) and, oddly enough, a little doinky horn nested in the middle of its streaked hair.
He patted its back and pulled away. "Was that it?" he asked, closing his eyes and trying one more time to rip off his mask. "God, I feel like crying."
"What? No, I'm sorry," it said, in a nicely-female voice, and wiped at its (her?) eyes. "S-sorry. I'm having a bit of trouble today. It's just - you're here, and you're different, and you can help -"
"Oh, really?" he interrupted condescendingly. "You're having a bad morning? Someone took me from my bed and brought me somewhere where there are sentient cow-things." His voice rose a bit, before he sighed. "I'm sorry." Why am I apologizing?
"No, you're right to be angry. I'm truly sorry this had to happen, but it's an emergency. Can I sart from the beginning?" She asked.
He looked away, but a stole a glance into her eyes. This is so messed-up. "... I have time."
She smiled. "Thank you. My name is Twilight Sparkle, and you're currently in Equestria. We're called ponies, and... well, I -"
"Pause," Cry interrupted her, lingering a bit on the 's'. "You're... a pony?"
"Yes. Why? Do you have us wherever you're from?" she seemed genuinely excited.
"Uh... kind of. I'll tell you later. What were you saying? 'And, well, I'?"
"Yeah. That's really all that's important. We brought you here because..." she trailed off. "You're one of seven beings in the universe that we can call on to save us from destruction. See -"
"Hold - woah! Woah, woah. Hold up. I'm not a saviour. I don't save. I fight, I persuade, and I read creepypasta for extra cash on the Internet. That's it. I'm not a rebel or anything."
"It's not a rebellion!" Twilight said, her voice rising. "Most of our country was destroyed by something."
"What the hell is a something?"
"We don't know!" she practically shouted, visibly tearing up.
Cry sat back. "I'm - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." he stopped. "How bad is it?"
"They came from the sky yesterday morning. We fought them for an hour with everything we had, but they annihilated us. We... really need your help," she finished, wiping at her eyes again. "You're our last hope. The only other pony who could cast the spell is... missing."
"Magic?" he replied, a bit over-excitedly. "Hells yeah! I can have, like, fire and sparks coming out of my hands and -"
"Well, not really. That's only for unicorns. But we can equip you with -"
"Unicorns?"
"... armour and such," she finished with a sigh. "Yeah. I'm a unicorn, for example?" she said, pointing her head towards him and accidentally poking his forehead. "Oops. But, yeah, we make up about 26% of the population."
"I... can't wrap my head around this."
"You don't have to. We'll let you recuperate here for a while, and deal with... everything that's new, and then you need to make a choice."
"A choice?" he asked, suddenly dropping his voice. Reality had hit him again. If this was real, he'd have to deal with it. "What kind of choice?"
Twilight sighed heavily. "...On whether you'll lead us into battle."
Cry looked up at her, his vision fading a bit. "Battle..." he murmured. "... Can I have a quesadilla?"
Cry stared up at the dull white ceiling, which looked more like a dim, flickering yellow because of the candles and small lamps spread like flaming margarine throughout the room. The corners of his mask added to his confusion and frustration every time he noticed it at the corners of his eyes. He put a hand across it and rolled across the scruffy pile of blankets onto his back.
The little unicorn was relatively silent, trying to recount everything that had happened to their society over the last day. "It didn't take them long at all," she said quietly. "They tore our cities to the ground in minutes. Most ponies got away - it didn't really seem like they were looking to kill."
Cry sat up slowly. "... Why... why am I here, Twilight?"
"Apparently, you're one of seven beings that our ruler, Celestia, can -"
"No, I know," he interrupted with a wave of his hand. "Celestia, summoning stuff. But... why is it me?"
There was a second or two of silence as the grandfather clock in the corner ticked away. "I'm not sure."
Suddenly, a thought popped into his head. He looked up from his hands. "If I help you all out, can I go home?"
Twilight looked a bit surprised. "Well, yes, of course. We don't want to hamper you longer than we are already." She paused. "You don't have to like us. You don't have to even accept that we exist. What we need you for - what we really need you for - is to help us out somehow. We don't know what we're doing with these mechanical things, and... you must have been chosen for a reason."
Cry looked back down at his hands, and noticed with dull surprise that they were shaking a bit. He was probably in some kind of light shock still, but he'd gotten over it before and he could do it again. "I'll help you."
Twilight stood quickly, smiling for the first time since they'd met. "You - you will?"
He thought back, and didn't entirely remember saying he would. "Uh... yeah." He wasn't aware he was saying that, either.
She ran towards him and hugged his waist as he stood. "I can't believe this. You have no idea how much you're helping us," she said, in an odd mixture between excited and very excited. "I can't thank you enough."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm doing my - my duty, I guess," he replied, patting her head. "Uh... you don't have to keep hugging -"
"Oh! Uh, sorry," she said, falling back to her hooves. She was really only a foot and a half or two feet smaller than him, and those eyes had grown on him over the half-hour they'd been talking. "We'll get anything you need. Name it and it's yours."
"Are we going straight into war?" he asked, stretching for a moment and power walking over to the door.
"Well... it's your decision," she replied unsurely, trotting alongside him down the hall.
His mind was racing. But this was an act of charity - forced, but still charity. He had to go through what he knew about war, which, despite his self-defense training, wasn't very much. Rules. Get as few people - ponies - killed as possible. Confront the things peacefully. Then stealth in and sabotage if that doesn't work. "What's the biggest room in this place?"
"Well, it is a bunker, so the main supply room."
"Clear it out. I need a word with everyone."
She sighed a little huffy embarrassed sigh. "Well, we haven't let everypony know that, you know, you exist yet. But, uh, I have a small group that you should probably meet."
The place smelled like dirt. That was rather expected - the first time he heard they were in a hillside bunker and were surrounded by dirt, he smelled dirt. But it had become more unpleasant as his nerve grew. He was still in his pajamas - old boxers and an exhausted undershirt. He sighed, and stared out the small doorway to the hallway.
He leaned back, and blew a raspberry for no reason. This is waaay too weird, he thought, and tried one last time to take his mask off. It's not gonna work, you friggin' moron. You tried this already.
He jumped as Twilight trotted into the room and whispered, "They should be getting here soon. Get ready."
"Oh, dear God," he said, more to himself than to Twilight. "Grown man in his underwear, wearing a creepy mask, and about to try to talk to..." he trailed off, putting a hand over his mask.
"Sorry about that. But they don't know those are your pajamas. They could just be normal clothes to them," she whispered again. "Don't worry. You're going to do fine."
Why am I taking a pep talk from a pony? We're going to war later. That's a more important subject for a goddamn pep talk. He shook his head, the bottom of the mask briefly catching the collar of his shirt. "Alright. Let's go," he muttered, and as if on cue, he saw a flash of blue, then of yellow, red, orange, green, violet -
He, fully prepared to reach out a hand (which, in retrospect, would have been awkward anyways), simply felt himself recede into his seat as another pony, kind of like Twilight, came nervously into the room, her head turned away. He watched her nod before turning her head towards him - both of them gasped simultaneously.
The rainbow-haired one flinched, Cry following in suit as her wings extended. Wings. Jesus. She regained her posture quickly, flapping her wings by her side and shaking her head. God, it's, like, two feet from me. Wings.
She cleared her throat. "It's all good, everypony," she called behind her to the doorway in a crisp female voice. She kinda sounds like a jock I know if he were a chick, Cry thought to himself, forcing his muscles to relax.
One by one, other ponies, all of different colours and varieties, walked slowly into the small room. There was an orange one, nothing on it, and a pink one, nothing on it either - then there was a bright white one with what looked like makeup who sat near the back with a bright yellow one that had wings. It's like Disney when they first invented technicolor.
It didn't stay uncomfortably quiet for too long. All attention fell on Twilight, nearly crushing her, as she began to speak. "Uh, Cry? This is Applejack -" she pointed - "Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and Rarity."
He nodded, the weight of his head taking its toll on him. "Aagh. Yeah. Got it. Are you all... girls? Females?"
"Yeah! Hey, you're funny-looking! I like it!" the pink one chirruped, smiling broadly. He heard a brief giggle from Twilight behind him before bursting into laughter.
After a second or two, it began to hurt his tired, recently-magically-transported sides, but he couldn't stop. It was probably nervous. At least he broke the ice. He put a hand on his chest and began to settle down, followed by the two or three others who had followed his lead. "... You're good," he added as he let out a final sigh. "So, um, Applejack, Rainbow... Dash, Pinkie Pie, R-Rarity, and Fluttershy." He paused again. "Is she..."
"We try not to say anything," Rainbow Dash spoke up. Her voice had that quality that, no matter where it was, it carried throughout the entire room. "But, uh... she kept animals, and during the, um..." she trailed off as Fluttershy whimpered from the back.
Cry sighed, and looked down at his folded hands. He felt that one really base feeling that he always got from catching Azumanga Daioh on late-night FiOS. When something with eyes that big looks sad, you just want to embrace it. He briefly seriously considered it, reasoning If I'm in a fever dream, nothing I do has consequence, but decided to play it safe and remain quiet. "I'm... uh, I'm truly sorry for your, um, your loss," he said, dissolving into mumbles.
"Anyways," Twilight began again, "we were the Elements of Harmony before it happened, and even though we aren't sure where the elements are, we do know that we're a good team. We'll follow your lead," she finished weakly.
"Yup! Let's go kick some robot flank!" Pinkie interjected, raising a hoof into the air in an unnatural position.
Cry reeled back again. "How many joints y'all have in there?" he asked, getting a laugh from Pinkie and a chuckle from Dash. He smiled and sighed. "Alright, well, we're together now, and..." he trailed off, losing his words in the bottomless pit of nerve and confusion sitting pretty in the middle of his thought receptors.
For a brief second, stared at the small audience. With a final cough to clear his throat, he launched into a terribly unprepared speech.
"Uh... hi. I'm R- Cry, and I'm apparently from some other planet." He paused. "I'm supposed to help you fight something the invaded recently, and although I'm not totally sure how to, I know we'll be able to get it done together. The - really, the only reason I would be 'chosen' is 'cause I have hands and - well, maybe 'cause I'm twice as tall as... all of you." He chuckled, but felt himself slipping. His voice bounced around the little supply room to no reception.
An idea hit him. He closed his eyes, feeling his eyelashes bush up against his mask briefly, and put himself where he was supposed to be - alone, in the dark, in the OCD-bitchsmack he called his room, with the old microphone that kinda smelled like blue Doritos and cranberry-pomegranate juice. "I know I don't look like much," he began again, his voice dropping to a beautiful pseudo-bass. "But I have been called here by some power we don't understand to help you all.
"I'm on a different world. I'm somewhere I never even imagined I'd be, mainly because I didn't know it existed. I'm here now, and I've been developing a plan. You've lost homes and loved ones, and I have to find out why. Even though - even though I didn't ask to be your saviour, I'll do my absolute best." He paused as a collective shout of approval came from his audience. Standing ovation, he thought, and grabbed his side. You know it's bad when your own pun hurts you.
He smiled, almost exactly like his mask - proud, but just barely noticeable. He waved a hand and tried to calm them down. "I - I didn't say I knew exactly what to do yet," he interrupted them. The cheers drowned out slowly, with a final clap-stomp-thing from Pinkie. "I need help from peop- ponies who know the land and know what they're doing with - uh - you know what I mean. I'm just one man; I'm not some kind of god. Do I have any, uh, volunteers?"
"Ah'm willin'," Applejack said, stepping forwards and taking off the beaten (hopefully-not-leather) Stetson that, until then, had sat very comfortably on her bright blonde mane. Cry had to keep himself from snickering at her country accent - it was so out-of-place in a world full of sentient ponies... Come to think of it, why can they speak English?
"Hey, Twi-"
"I volunteer, too," Dash interrupted, nodding and stepping forward.
"That's great, Rainbow. I knew we were going to need your wings." Twilight paused. "But I kinda figured you were going to volunteer anyways, but still, it's the follow-through that -"
"Twilight?" Cry interrupted. "How do all the ponies here speak English?"
Twilight looked over. "Wh - oh, your language? We don't. It's part of the spell."
Cry cocked his head subconsciously, before correcting it, remembering his doctor told him he wasn't supposed to 'cause he could get a hunchback or something. "Oh, and why do all the ponies have things on their a - f - reeear ends?"
"Uh -"
"You don't have one yet?" Pinkie jumped in. Literally, she bounced in-between Twilight and him, her jaw open like he'd committed a mortal sin. "That means after we beat up all the robot things, we have something else to do!"
Cry looked into her bright, cheerful face and noticed with a sour taste in his mouth that she hadn't slept last night. And her cheeks were matted. Every rose...
"It's a cutie mark," Twilight said, the nerdy flare she had when she was describing the races returning. "See, every pony -"
"T-tell me later, Twilight," Cry interrupted. "I... I know what I have to do now. It's pretty clear to me now."
"R-really?" came a painfully hopeful voice from the back. The yellow one. Cry felt himself lose his words for a moment.
"Yeah. Yes, I do. I have a really, really rudimentary plan that probably isn't going to work in the slightest. But... we have to try."
