Ponyshock

Ponyshock

Chapter 1: Welcome to Eufillyia

They told Gene “Son you were born to do great things”. You know what they were right.

Gene Tonic’s once limp body jolted into consciousness. Crash, the airship had crashed. Where was it going? Why had it drifted over the great equestrian sea? Why had it crashed? All questions that no longer held any importance. The only thought coursing through Gene’s mind was that if he didn’t surface soon, he was going to drown.

Gene breached the surface of the great equestrian sea, just in time to gasp a mouthful of oxygen into his lungs. Panicked Gene began to survey his surroundings. Nopony had joined him on the surface of the ocean, and at this point, he doubted any would. Debris of the airship was burning all around him, and then he saw it. By some miracle a large building, seemingly rising up from the ocean, was towering over him. Gene thought of staying, to make sure no other survivors surfaced, but the great equestrian sea was particularly frigid, and Gene began to worry about hypothermia. So he began to swim towards the towering building before him.

Luckily for Gene a convenient set of stairs, leading to a large door, had been available for use. By now, Gene surmised that the large building before him was a lighthouse, though why it was out in the middle of the ocean, Gene could not imagine. Looking back one more time at the wreckage confirmed his worst fear; he was all alone out here. Taking one last look at the wreckage, as it slowly finished sinking into the ocean, Gene pushed open the large metal door, and walked inside.

Gene’s black mane flowed, as he was hit with a rather large breeze, emanating from inside the lighthouse. Shaking himself dry, Gene slowly began to walk into the lighthouse. Suddenly, as if expecting him, the lighthouse became aglow with many fluorescent lights. At the center of the room a giant statue of a unicorn glared down at Gene. Below the statue was a banner, that read, “Neither magic or miracles. Only ponies.” Gene was confused at what the sign was saying. Being a unicorn himself, Gene knew magic existed. Only the most ignorant foal would argue to the contrary. He didn't know why, but for whatever reason the statement, embroidered on the banner before him, made Gene very angry. As if to insult the unicorn before him, Gene used his magic to untie the banner, chuckling, as it slowly drifted to the ground.

Gene continued further into the lighthouse, still trying to discern its purpose. As he continued into the lighthouse, Gene found himself in a large room filled with models. Most were of futuristic buildings and walkways, but a few showed syringes, filled with some vile looking blue liquid. Gene pressed forward, lights illuminating his way. Upon reaching the end of the room Gene came to a case that held something he never expected to see. His jaw almost fell to the floor.

Magic channellers didn’t exist anymore, or at least weren’t supposed to exist anymore. Built only four decades before Gene’s birth, the first magic channellers promised the next step in pony evolution. What they did was astounding. Anypony who wore it could cast magic, unicorn or not. The amazing devices also strengthened the already rock solid magic of a unicorn, giving them almost alicorn like abilities. Indeed it seemed channellers were the way of the future, granting a better future, for all ponies.

However not everypony embraced this new, great, technological advancement. In fact most ponies downright feared the device, calling it unnatural and dangerous. Debates seemed to drone on endlessly, day after day of fighting. Finally the debates reached a fever pitch, and Princess Celestia herself decided to put an end to the debates, once and for all.

Calling upon her most trusted advisers, Celestia held a court case, the outcome of which would undoubtedly change history. For days, ponies on both sides spoke their guts out. Some debates got so passionate, that violence in the chambers became common. Many a debater walked away with broken snouts or sprained hooves.

In the end however, the decision was with those who spoke against the channellers. Celestia ordered any further production on channellers be stopped, and also ordered the dismemberment of all current devices. To many it was the greatest day in Equestrian history. To others however, it was the darkest. Some of those who supported the channellers left, in search of a place where they could continue their work, without the interruption of Celestia. Some even committed suicide, not willing to see the fruits of their labor die. In a couple years time the issue faded from memory, becoming the stuff of history books, but nothing more.

Or so Gene thought. The device before him however, was proving him quite wrong. What in Celestia’s name was a device this powerful doing in a lighthouse? Considerably shaken, Gene left the room hoping to find answers, up ahead.

The room Gene entered next was very unique, when compared to the others. Instead of holding statues, models, or dangerous artifacts, this room had nothing, but a rather large sphere in the center. Upon closer inspection Gene found the sphere to be and elevator of sorts, with seats for a couple of ponies, and a large lever protruding from the middle. The real question was, where did it go? There were no rails to carry the elevator up, and no logical place else it could go.

Gene sat in the room for a fair bit of time, contemplating his options going forward. He could go back, but then what would that accomplish? He could stay put, but nopony knew where he was, and he was fairly certain nopony was looking. Which left the elevator as his only other choice. Gene sighed, looked around the room for any other exit, and with another sigh, stepped into the elevator, and pushed the lever.

Gene almost immediately regretted the decision. The door had closed behind him with a slam, and the elevator lurched to life, with a resounding screech. Then against all odds, it moved down. Down was not a place Gene wanted to go. He turned in horror, and watched as his elevator became completely submerged in water. Gene began to hyperventilate. He had just escaped wreckage going to the bottom of the sea, and now it appeared he was going there anyways. Looking through the window of the elevator, Gene watched, as the elevator submerged, even deeper. Somepony even thought it was a good idea to have markers, showing how far down you were. Gene stared with abject horror as he past thirty fathoms, then forty, then fifty. It was like a nightmare.

Suddenly a projector screen jutted out, in front of the window. Gene, startled, fell back into the seat behind him. A picture of an earth pony, working on a field popped up, on the projector screen. A narration kicked in soon afterwards.

“Hello my little ponies,” a voice said, in a regal, upper crust accent. “My name is Pushing Progress, and I’m here to ask you a question. Is a pony not entitled to the sweat of their brow?” The picture changed to that of Celestia, with a stern look in her eyes. “No say the alicorns,” the narration continued. “Their sweat may be dangerous!” The picture changed again, this time showing the face of a pegasi general. “No say the Military it belongs to the government” The picture changed yet again to a picture of a zebra. “No say the zebras it belongs to everyone!” The picture changed to a pony that Gene could only assume was the narrator. “I rejected those answers, and instead, I chose the impossible, I choose the unthinkable, I choose...Eufillyia.” The screen lifted up from the window, revealing a sight that made Gene’s jaw drop to the floor.

A city, a full-fledged underwater city, laid before his eyes. Gene’s was astounded. The city must have been as large as Manehatten, if not larger! Billboards hung from the buildings; advertising everything, from plastic surgery, to fine wine. It was incredible.

The narration continued. “A place where the artist need not fear the censor, a place where the inventor need not be troubled by ethical bounds, a place where the big would not fear the small! And by the sweat of your brow, Eufillyia can become your city too.”

Gene had paid the narration, no mind. He was to enraptured at what was around him. He saw people using the walkways between buildings. He saw divers outside making repairs to a window. He even saw a whale sail right past him, as if it were nothing unusual. He must be dreaming.

The elevator turned a corner towards a building labeled welcome center. On the side of the building bright neon letters exclaimed “All good things flow into Eufillyia,” around a hole, the size of Gene’s elevator. Gene shuddered with nervous anticipation, when suddenly the emergency radio turned on.

“Appleseed, did you call the bathysphere?” said a voice with a thick coltish accent.

“N-no,” said another voice, sounding quite scared.

“That means it’s, been activated topside, which means we got company,” the voice said in nervous anticipation. “Appleseed you need to get to the welcoming hall ASAP!”

“B-but,” stammered the scared voice again.

“Fifty L.U.N.A. and seven sparkle hypos,” said the coltish pony.

“Deal!” yelled the other voice, sounding considerably braver.

“I’ll be sending you some sentries in five minutes. Until then I want you to keep our visitor safe from harm, got it?” asked the Coltish pony sternly.

“You got it boss!” exclaimed the other pony.

By this point the elevator had already reached the building and was beginning to surface inside the building. Still the conversation on the radio left Gene with one question. What dangers did he need to be kept safe from?

The elevator rose from a hole, in the floor, in the welcoming hall. A green light inside the elevator turned on, indicating it had concluded its journey. The room itself was filled with suitcases and other travel cases, presumably belonging to the newer residents of this place. Besides that, the room was built very well, with a design that could only be made by an accomplished architect.

Gene, rather than explore the room, decided it was best to wait in the elevator. After all, he was expecting an escort.

Eventually, a stringy looking unicorn stumbled into the room, magic wrapped around a firearm of some sort. But Gene noticed something was off. The unicorn was spooked, as if he had just seen some sort of ghost. His telekinesis was quivering as the gun he held swung around from side to side. As he backpedaled toward the elevator he managed to squeak out something.

“Hello?” asked the unicorn, clearly frightened by something.

Gene was about to say something, when a voice from the darkness surrounding the room beat him to it.

“Aw, is the little unicorn scared?” said a bloodcurdling voice, from the darkness. “Perhaps we should show ourselves. Maybe that will help sooth his nerves,” said the voice, clearly indicating it was toying with the poor unicorn.

A figure of a pony dropped from the ceiling, landing with a resounding thud. Something was off however. The pony was horribly disfigured, to the point where Gene could barely tell it was a mare. On the head of the pony was a magic channeller, eerily familiar to the one Gene saw in the lighthouse. Attached to that channeller was what appeared to be a metal exoskeleton, with many compartments and widgets attached. To top it all off, at the end of each hoof were a pair of sickle shaped hooks. On this particular pony, the hooks were stained red.

“Oh Celestia no,” the unicorn exclaimed firing off two shots of his firearm. Neither came anywhere close to hitting their mark.

The mare he just shot at leaped into action, sprinting towards the unicorn with an unquenchable blood lust. “Nopony shots at me, and gets away with it,” the mare screamed, slashing her hooks into the unicorn’s torso. The unicorn stumbled back, with two large cuts perforating his chest.

“No,” was he managed to let out, before the barrage continued,

Gene watched in horror, as the unicorn was eviscerated before his very eyes. The mare kept slashing the stallion, seemingly unsatisfied until every vital organ was exposed to the air. After what seemed like ages of hacking and slashing, at the corpse of the unicorn, the mare finally turned towards the elevator, anger etched across her face.

“Well what do we have here? A little coward, sitting in a bathysphere? Well maybe its time he came out!”

The mare jumped up onto the elevator.

“Get out of their you little coward!” the mare screamed at the top of her lungs.

Gene was more than content to stay where he was. He would not move from the safety of the elevator, if Celestia herself asked to bear his foals.

“Arrghh!” the mare screamed, as she jammed her razor sharp claws into the elevator. Gene expected the elevator to put up a stiff resistance, but was horrified to learn her claws could penetrate the metal, like a hot knife through butter. Worse still was the startling revelation that he would not be able to go back, as the elevator rapidly became holier than a piece of Swiss cheese. Still the elevator was keeping her away from him, which he accepted as preferable to dying.

Eventually the mare stopped trying to rip the elevator apart, realizing it was a lost cause. She jumped down in front of the elevators window, and pointed one of her claws at Gene, still dripping with the blood of the unicorn.

“All right you little maggot, listen up,” the mare said sternly. “You may think you have won, but you can’t stay there forever! And when you come out, you can be guaranteed that I’ll be waiting.”

With that the mare leapt back into the shadows of the room, grumbling to herself as she left.

Gene, at this point, was huddled up in the middle of the elevator (or bathysphere as the inhabitants called it). She was right, he would starve if he stayed in the elevator. Gene rose to his hooves and looked around. The bathysphere was in complete disarray, twisted metal bending every which way. Gene used his telekinesis to pick up the unicorns gun, and groaned with dismay when he found it was empty. No wonder the unicorn only fired off two shots. Gene slumped back down contemplating whether it was better to starve in a metal coffin, or end up a pile of flesh and gore on the floor. Gene was on the verge of crying when the radio suddenly sparked to life.

“Hello is anypony alive in there?” said the voice on the radio. It was the same voice that was communicating with the unicorn before. “I can’t believe that bitch took out Appleseed like that,” said the voice, clearly dismayed. “Look, I know you probably feel like the most unlucky stallion in the world right now, but staying in there isn’t going to do you any good. So if you would be so kind as to take that radio with ya, it would be much appreciated.”

Gene used his telekinesis to remove the radio from the wall and held it up to his ear.

“Good, now listen. I know ya don’t have no reason to trust me, but if you want to live, your going to need to step out of that there bathysphere, and into the middle of the room. I’ve got a sentry bot over in the next room but I need to get a clear shot on the bitch.”

Gene immediately realized he was the bait in the plan, and almost refused. But then he got to thinking. The voice had no reason to want him dead. In fact, he was trying to have the unicorn protect Gene from harm. More importantly he had just lost one man to, whatever that was out there, which means he had extra motivation to want her dead. And besides, this could be his one chance to survive this encounter. So with a sigh, Gene mustered up all the courage he could and opened the door of the bathysphere.

As Gene began to leave the sphere, he heard the mare moving throughout the darkness. She was trying to spook him, no doubt, but Gene kept moving toward the brightest part of the room, paying the noises no mind.

“Well look who came out to play,” said the raspy voice of the mare. “I honestly didn’t expect you to come out so quickly. In fact I was betting I’d have to wait a good day, before your ass trotted itself out of there. Well you’ve made my day much easier.”

By this point Gene had reached the well-lit portion of the room, and began looking for the source of the voice.

“Well then, any last words, coward?” the mare cooed, sounding very close to Gene.

Gene slowly looked up, and saw the mare, hanging from the ceiling, by her claws. He dived away just in time to avoid being hit, and began to sprint back to the bathysphere.

Gene was almost halfway to the bathysphere when the radio he was carrying sparked to life.

“Eat this you dirty bitch,” said the voice. Gene watched as an odd gizmo zoomed past him. He turned around, just in time to see it open fire. The mare was peppered with bullets from the gizmo. She took a few steps forward, and then slumped over, holding onto her wounds. She muttered something that Gene could not make out, and then went limp.

“Nice work kid, ya did great,” said the voice on the radio. The cheerfulness matched his Coltish accent well. “We ain’t of the water yet I’m afraid. So would you be so kind as to find a wrench or something to defend yourself with?”

Gene was more then happy to agree, and quickly picked up a lead pipe that had found its way onto the floor.

“That will do for now I suppose,” said the voice over the radio. “My names Creative Cartography, by the way, but you can call me Carter.” Anyways, we got to get you out of there, before any more of them hybrids show up.

Gene was more then happy to oblige, picking up a pair of saddlebags on the way out. Sliding the precious radio into one of his pockets, Gene cautiously moved into the next room.

The room he now occupied was very similar to the last, albeit without the bathysphere. The architecture carried the same style of the last room, but it still managed to encapsulate the horrors of the welcoming hall. Blood smeared the walls, and worse the lighting was just as dim as before, creating a macabre and grisly room. Worst of all however, was the pony pacing back and forth in its center.

“Why isn’t she back yet?” asked the pony. He was just as disfigured as the mare, but instead of having the grotesque claws of his counterpart, he instead had a blood stained crowbar. The stallion himself was an earth pony, but the magic channeller on his head allowed him to telekinetically grasp the crowbar with ease.

Gene backed into the shadows of the room with caution. The stallion would surely see him, if he attempted to move into the next room. While contemplating his options, Gene’s radio sparked to life.

“Your going to need to kill him,” said Carter. “Sneak up on him, and give him a good whack with your pipe. And most importantly, don’t get sentimental on me. Any mercy you show to the hybrids, won’t be returned.”

Gene sighed and moved forward slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. He held the pipe firmly with his magic, knowing full well the consequences of losing his only tool of defense. When Gene was finally within striking distance of the pony he swung the pipe with all the force he could manage.

The pipe hit the ponies back, making a sickening crack while doing so. The stallion spun around in shock, just in time to see the metal pipe swinging for his face.

Gene wasn’t sure whether the pony was unconscious or dead, but the blood flowing from his spine and head, lead him to believe the latter. He determined the crowbar wasn’t a massive upgrade from his pipe and kicked it aside, and proceeded to check the hybrids saddlebags. For the most part, they contained nothing special, a few spare bits (which Gene quickly pocketed); some cigarettes (Gene didn’t smoke so he tossed the aside with the crowbar) and an odd syringe labeled first aid. Gene was staring at the syringe confused, when the radio sparked to life.

“That there is a first aid hypo,” said Carter, attempting to explain. “Just use it like any syringe and the liquid will heal any abuse you have taken.”

Gene nodded his head to indicate he understood, and slid the hypo into his saddlebags. Carter continued over the radio.

“Now if you would be so kind as to go two rooms down. I’ve got a present for ya, that will hopefully assist in keeping your ass alive.” Gene did as he was told, and moved to the next room.

It was a theater of some sorts, or at least it had been. Broken lighting, glass, and the dried blood on the walls indicated this room had not been used for its intended purpose in a long time. Gene carefully began to move across the scaffolding trying to find a way to get to ground level. That is when he saw the gruesome scene taking place on the ground floor.

The floor was littered with a group of hybrids, all of which had expired. That wasn’t the worst of it though. That honor was given to the little filly, currently probing one of the corpses with a grotesque looking needle.

The filly looked terrifying. Her eyes glowed a sickly yellow. Much like the hybrids, she wore the metal exoskeleton, but rather than having a magic channeller or claws, she instead had large needles protruding from her hooves. The most disturbing part of the scene however was the grotesque enjoyment the filly was getting while probing the corpse. Gene was about to throw up, when Carter interrupted him.

“That’s a Little Filly,” he said. “Some sick bastard turned these cute, wee little girls, and turned them into monsters. Don’t get near her though! I’m still looking for her Big Stallion.

Gene obliged Carter’s request and continued to move across the scaffolding, trying to hold in his lunch. The Little Filly paid him no mind and continued to probe the corpse, humming a tune while doing so. Gene eventually found his way over to a place to drop down, and did so with a thud. The drop however turned out to be the last straw, as he finally lost control of his digestive track, and deposited his lunch in a corner of the room. Gene was now separated from the filly by a wall with windows locking into the theater, no doubt where the audience would stand.

Gene wasn’t close to prepared for what happened next. A hybrid, holding a revolver of sorts, strolled into the room casually. Gene slid into the shadows, hoping he would not be noticed. The Little Filly, on the other hand, was content where she was.

“Well what do we have here?” said the hybrid pointing the gun at the Little Filly. “A lone Little Filly huh. I’m going to get lots L.U.N.A. off of you.” The hybrid raised his hoof over his head, preparing to knock out the filly in front of him.

The filly turned to face her aggressor and screamed.

The hybrid stood dumbfounded for a moment, but quickly recovered at hit the filly across the face.

Suddenly the room became filled with a noise, like nothing Gene had heard before. Gene covered his ears, looking for the source of the earsplitting noise. It took only seconds for him to find it.

There, standing in the theater box, was a figure that only looked vaguely pony. Whatever it was, it was wearing a divers suit that even Princess Celestia couldn’t fit in. The helmet had multiple holes, from which a menacing red glow pulsated, menacingly. Most importantly one of its forehooves was missing, being replaced by a large, gore splattered drill.

Gene, still cowering in the dark, watched as the menacing figure dropped down onto the floor. Gene could feel the vibrations from where he was sitting. The hybrid meanwhile turned his attention toward the monster, firing multiple shots into the glowing helmet. The monster shrugged of the shots as if it was nothing, and lunged toward the hybrid. Gene watched in terror, as the monster proceeded to pummel the hybrid into a gory pulp. To the hybrids credit, he did try to fight back, but to no avail. The monster finally content with the beating it delivered, started its drill, and drove it forcefully through the now thoroughly unconscious hybrid. Blood and gore spread everywhere, giblets splashing onto the window Gene was looking through.

“That’s the Big Stallion,” Carter said over the radio. “The filly grabs the L.U.N.A., and he keeps her safe.”

The Big Stallion walked toward the Little Filly. Rather than be scared by its presence, the filly took delight.

“Come on Smartypants, we have to go find more angels,” said the filly.

Gene watched, as the lumbering beast escorted the filly out into a back door. He cowered in the darkness for a little while longer, and once he was sure the coast was clear, began to loot the dead bodies. Most only had bits on them, but the hybrid the Big Stallion killed still had his gun with him. Gene picked it up and found it only had three rounds, so he slid it into his saddlebags. He didn’t want just a lead pipe to fight the Big Stallion with, should it return. Finally Gene went through the door and reached his destination.

“Good job, now if you would be so kind, as to move up the stairs on your right,” said Carter. “Up there you should find a vending machine with a syringe in it. Use that syringe, and you should be more able to defend yourself.

Gene was more then happy to oblige Carter’s advice, it saving him multiple times in the past hour. When he got upstairs Gene found the vending machine Carter was talking about. One the front in bright red letters it proclaimed, The Fancier’s Field! Hold the power of Celestia right at your hooves! Two Little Fillies adorned its sides, which to Gene, made it very creepy.

Gene used his telekinesis to pull out the syringe jammed in the vending machines slot. This one was quite different from the first aid syringe. It carried a sickly blue liquid, rather than the luminescent red liquid the first aid syringe carried. It’s paper read L.U.N.A. and below that, in quotes, Lavishing Unicorn Nervous Adhesive. Gene raised the syringe to his hoof preparing to jam whatever the liquid was into his veins.

“Be careful now, the first hit is always the hardest,” said Carter.

Gene jammed the needle into his arms, and injected the sickly blue liquid. Nothing happened at first, but then there was a quick burst of pain in his hoof. Gene howled as he watched his hoof spasm in pain. It was bending in ways he never thought possible!

“Stay calm pal, the L.U.N.A. is just bonding to your nerves. Everything is going to be okay!”

Gene couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to. By now the pain had spread throughout his body. Gene started to backpedal, forgetting he was on the second story of the room. Gene backpedaled into the banister, and toppled over it. His head hit the floor with a resounding thud, and after a couple of seconds of lying there, Gene passed out.

When Gene gained consciousness, he found himself being robbed by a hybrid. Gene tried to remain as still as possible, while the hybrid rummaged through his saddlebags.

“Looks like this little fish had his cherry popped,” said the hybrid, brimming with glee. “Wonder if he has any L.U.N.A. on him.” A loud thud interrupted him. “Crap. Looks liking my searching is going to be cut short.” The hybrid turned to face Gene’s face. “I don’t think you’ll fair any better with a Big Stallion though.” With that the hybrid ran off, and Gene slipped out of consciousness.

When Gene awoke a second time he found himself dangerously close to being probed by a large needle. He gasped with shock, and then sighed with relief, when the needle stopped in response.

“Oh Smartypants I’ve made a mistake. He’s not an angel yet, but don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll be an angel soon.”

The Little filly then skipped off, her Big Stallion in tow. After lying there for a few seconds Gene found himself slipping into blackness for the third time, part of him wishing he wouldn’t get up.