Discord Space: Frozen Equestria

How long had she been lying in the snow before regaining consciousness? Water coated her eyes as they flickered open. The helmet was trying to compensate for her impaired vision without much success. That, or there was quite literally nothing to see at all, apart from the stark white of course. Several different warnings were flashing away at the corners of her display. The fall had damaged the heat regulation unit. Next to the warning, a metre marked how long it predicted she had before her flesh would start to suffer damage from the formation of ice crystals.

"Shit. How the buck did I survive a fall that nopony is supposed to survive?" I guess the same applies to surviving a whole space station blowing up. Surviving, and not feeling sore all over quickly became two very different things. "Feels like I got hit by a shuttle, twice." None of her limbs had been dislocated at the very least. By instinct, she looked upward with the half-expectation of seeing necromorphs fall out of the sky around her. No such event came to pass, a welcome sign.

It did however open her eyes to the full scope of her surroundings. Or more precisely, the sheer lack of being able to see anything. There was snow on the ground, and whirling around in the air around and above her. That was the extent of how she could describe it to herself. Grey, barren, and certainly not how she remembered Equestria. Even the Frozen North didn't get this bad in the worst winter, Cadance had always made sure of that. There was no logical explanation to why she could barely see beyond two metres in front of her.

Radio static made itself heard over the howling blizzard. Applejack switched the communication straight to her helmet to avoid having to hold her hoof up all the time. "Oh Applejack, we thought we lost you there. I'm closing in on your position now, there should be a fire north-north east of your position. Stay there until I arrive, it should keep you warm enough until your RIG repairs itself." It was a great comfort to know that Spitfire hadn't wasted time in trying to find her. A good amount of ponies who wouldn't have exercised such diligence came to mind.

"Fine by me. I suppose that the explanations should wait until you get here then, AJ out." The electronic compass took several seconds to get a proper reading. Either it had been severely desensitized, or the blizzard was so turbulent that it was throwing off all her readings. "Alright then, I guess a map isn't going to do me much good. Neither is the locator." To be sure, she checked it anywhere. Nothing to lock onto, as expected. She had a general direction at least. And how hard could it really be to miss an entire fire in the middle of a blizzard?

Her temperature readout marked in at fifteen minutes. After that, she'd start to lose skin. Not immediately of course, but without any somatic gel to repair the damage available, she'd be open to infection. Necromorphic infection at that. It could be far worse after all. There had been no sign of necromorphs chasing after her; presumably, they roamed the old towns. Station Luna had been very tight and close quarters. She didn't know if she preferred that or not.

The fire came into sight with only a few minutes left on her timer. It wasn't anywhere near as scary as running out of air, yet it terrified her all the same. A horrific, quick death as opposed to a slow and decaying one. "Why am I thinking about all the different ways I can die in a necromorph infested snowstorm?" A mess of scrap metal and fuel tanks made up the bonfire. Probably part of a crashed ship that had self-regenerating fuel. The safeties would have been destroyed in the crash then, essentially creating a very long lasting fire. It certainly lasted long enough for Spitfire to use it as a key point in directions.

While her skin warmed up again to a comfortable level, she waited. The lack of anything solid that didn't burn heat right through her RIG made it hard to get comfortable. Snow was hardly an ideal resting surface. "Come on Spitfire. I'm not as patient as I used to be, not much to be done about that." Had there been an energy bar lying around at least, she wouldn't be so quick to complain. Food was time and time again one of the best ways to relieve stress. Sludge pumped with nutritional supplements and other drugs was hardly food.

At last, the silhouette of an approaching pony broke through the blizzard. Bright orange poured from the helmet. A wing of fire glowed on the flank of her RIG. Applejack got to her hooves at long last to meet Spitfire properly. What lay beneath the helmet made her take a step back. A lot of her skin was heavily scarred, mostly around the left half. Her eye remained half closed as a result. "Yeah, I know I don't look so good. Took a fuel blast to the face about two years ago. By the way, it's been three since you blew up Station Luna."

That was hardly the sort of news Applejack expected to hear at all, let alone as a passing note. Three years, not four months as she guessed. Had she really been unconscious that whole time? Keeping a pony in stasis for long periods of time still required administering all the basic necessities. And she had felt hungry after almost a full day without food on the station. The thought of how much artificial, tasteless slop had been pumped into her was sickening enough.

"Trixie, I found her, and she doesn't look up to a long walk. Teleport us when possible." Spitfire returned her attention to Applejack while closing her helmet up. "By the way, this is Appleloosa. Braeburn and his group went south to escape the cold a few months ago, haven't heard from him since." Applejack whirled her head around, only encouraging the sick feeling in her stomach. All that time, she had assumed she was somewhere in the North. But Appleloosa? That was a real stretch on her suspension of disbelief.

She was about to protest when a bright purple light encompassed them both. The freezing cold winds of Appleloosa gave way to the interior of a concrete bunker. In each of the four corners, a tall metal pillar stood. All four arced towards the centre where a glowing purple sphere remained suspended above the platform she was standing on. Energy conduits ran through the floor in all directions, glowing brightly with energy.

"Welcome to Equestria's first step towards combining magic and technology." Applejack would have moved to rub her eyes clean had her helmet not gotten in the way. It folded back down just to be sure she was seeing the pony approaching clearly. Trixie. "The machine taps into the dwindling pool of magic, and allows us to teleport ponies here from all across the continent. All of the energy expended returns to the pool, but I don't think I need to get into the details right now. Welcome to Ponyville's last hope for survival."

Applejack stepped onto the solid floor. She didn't trust the large machine that apparently teleported ponies in an instant one bit. Everything about it, especially the colour reminded her too much of a pony she wanted to forget ever existed. Spitfire wasn't bothered at all, and the same applied to Trixie. "What the hay is going on? Since when has Ponyville had an underground bunker? For that matter, why is there a big teleporter twice the size of my barn doing down here?"

Neither pony spoke immediately. Trixie lowered her head in a slow nod; then moved closer. "I know you must be very confused. Trust me when I say that you need to take things slowly. You're still suffering from a dementia brought on by the Marker, and it's going to take time to supress. For now, just follow me and become familiar with the place." Applejack still had her doubts about the unicorn, but chose to follow her when she moved on out of good will. They were open about her apparent insanity, and yet didn't have a problem with her walking around freely. That sort of trust she could appreciate.

"We have thirty six survivors in total that live here. They're of all races too; Halria is one of the few griffons we've seen in fact." The hallway was set in a cold, gunmetal grey. To the left, another corridor for quarters ran far. On the right, storage rooms, an armoury, and other such rooms stood open. In front of them, a larger hall was divided down the middle. A basic mess hall took up one side; the other was purposed as a presentation space. It was certainly an impressive achievement under the circumstances, even if their choice of paint colour wasn't that appealing.

A few of the figures at some of the tables immediately caught her attention. One wore a fiery red mane that ran down overtop a navy blue snow RIG. The other's mane was a translucent green, flowing over a jet-black nano-fibre suit The third figure at the table wasn't a pony at all in fact, fitted out in a war-torn black and red military RIG. Plasma Blast, Cope Shade... "Spike? Is that really you?" He didn't look too much older, at least age wise. The expression on his face however looked very deep, a constant stare of seriousness and silence. After how badly the dragons had lost during the final weeks of the war, she didn't blame him.

All of the negative memories that had started to return washed away when she found herself in the tight embrace of a unicorn and changeling she knew well. "Don't scare us like that again Applejack." Plasma's voice sounded sweet as ever. Youthful optimism was the perfect phrase to describe her. Even when necromorphs had her pinned down, she never gave into despair. Applejack had seen that for herself, a sight she wouldn't ever forget.

As for Shade, the mood was no less joyful to her surprise. The stern changeling with keen senses and a sharp tongue hadn't shown a great deal of positive emotion until now. This too was a sight that became clear in Applejack's mind. The two ponies to escape Station Luna after hours of hiding from the necromorphs. Now very much alive and well. "It is good to see you again my friend. After watching your final transmission, I began to feel that I had made a poor trade. I don't think anything could convince me now that your life was worth ending Twilight Sparkle's."

What she said caused the third one to approach a moment of pain. Through the hard-worn scales, Applejack could still see the baby dragon who admired the unicorn of Golden Oaks Library without fail. "We never got the chance to talk before you left for the new posting. And I really am sorry about that. Mind stopping by my room once you're done here? There's things on the surface you need to see, but I'd prefer to talk in private first." A simple nod was all he needed before departing for another part of the base. Shade had stepped back to adopt her normal stance.

"I was going to introduce you to some of the other survivors; I believe you already know Zecora. But I think Spike deserves time with you first. He has worked incredibly hard to keep the ponies here safe." To hear that come from a changeling was rather daunting. "Plasma and I have a scavenging mission coming up, so we will see you in a few hours at least." The thin plated helmet folded back up over her face. This time when she walked away, Applejack noticed a slight limp in her right hind leg. Plasma was quick to speak.

"A lot of things happened while you were gone. Please, try not to overreact to some of the things you're going to see." She too departed in the direction of a surface access lift. How many things changed? Did Cope get hitched with somepony; has Zecora become a necromorph expert? The questions following that seemed pointless. Trivial matters to hide herself from the fact that she wasn't going to like what had happened. There had been no sign of Applebloom, Big Mac, or Granny Smith in the bunker.

Other ponies who she didn't recognize had begun to notice her presence. It was probably a bit harder to work out who she was when not wearing her hat. For once, she would have felt more comfortable with Spitfire and Trixie there to explain why everypony had taken to watching her. A creeping feeling in her mind was that they expected her to go Chaotic at any moment. Why not Applejack? You're a ticking time bomb, Trixie said as much just before. You need treatment before you explode. How long until they lock you up in a cell before you hurt others?

Pain shot through her head. Nothing more than an echo of Discord's voice, exactly the sort of thing that would be caused by her dementia. "I'm okay everypony. Just another survivor of the necromorphs, nothing special. I'll be on my way now." Her head remained steady while she returned down the hallway to begin searching for Spike's room. Thirty-seven survivors now, including one griffon, and an insane pony. And one dragon too, who could have changed altogether in the ten years since they last spoke. She only remembered seven of those.

His room was located towards the back of the corridor. The door hung idly open, though no light escaped the room. "I don't like the looks of that, not one bit." And yet she still stepped up to the doorway. Now that her eyes had time to adjust to the darker room, she could see him lying back on a thin bed. Still in the full RIG too. "Spike, I'm here. Just promise me that when I close the door, I'm going to walk out of it again when you're done talking." It was a hard promise to ask, especially from him. But she didn't trust closed rooms while she was alone with one other.

Spike got up to turn the lights on. He looked very tall, and strong. The result of years of training with the dragons, all for nothing in the end. "I don't know how you're going to take what the others have asked me to tell you. But I can promise that I wouldn't do anything to hurt you. You've been through enough already." The door closed, this time it was not a feeling of panic or discomfort that overcame Applejack. If anything, it was guilt. The entire room was devoid of anything that could have been considered a personal possession. Essentially the opposite of a dragon's raw personality, minimalism. A bed, chair and side table, nothing more.

He took the chair, motioning for her to sit on the bed. Up close, it was easier to see the variety of scars that had been inflicted over the years. One of the more recent, she immediately recognized as a slasher wound. Metal groaned when she sat down. "Sorry, guess my weight hasn't improved much over three years of sludge." Spike didn't make any response. Not even a flicker of laughter in his eyes. Applejack felt her own brief flicker of a smile fade away too.

"I suppose we should get the worst news out of the way. You didn't kill Twilight on Station Luna. That was Cadance, dressed up to look like her." Cold rushed through Applejack's body, clutching her heart until it slowed to a very long beat. Spike brought up a video before she even had a chance to say something. The scene was very familiar, Twilight's long office.

*

"Bring me Cadance; I have a special task for her." The long needle jabbed into her elbow. Twilight didn't even wince. Tiny pains like that stopped bothering her a long time ago. It was one of her many concoctions, a serum that would disguise her body from the necromorphs long enough to make final preparations. On the other side of the table, another needle waited. That one had a very different effect.

At the other end of the hallway, two guards shoved a pink pony forward. Blood dripping from fresh wounds almost made her look like a form of twisted candy. Another kick forced her down to her knees. "Twilight, why are you doing this? If it's because of Shining-" More blood came from the mouth as a result of taking a rifle stock to the cheek. Twilight began to make her way over at that moment. The needle full of green-yellow liquid hovered to her left. A plasma pistol detached from a strap on her hoof.

"I am doing this, to ensure that Equestria has a future. Discord has completely overrun Applejack's mind, she will not stop until she is convinced I am dead. So, I intend to satisfy that wish." The barrel of the pistol plunged firmly into Cadance's left eye. Twilight angled it in such a way that the following shot would miss her brain. "Unfortunately, I haven't come across a way to clone myself. Please try to hold still." Cadance collapsed to the floor in agony while her eye socket started to smoulder. A flash of purple light transformed her bedraggled hair into a perfect duplicate of Twilight's mane style. The accompanying bandana flashed on soon after.

The needle moved down towards her at that moment. "Of course, Applejack will be able to tell the difference between pink and purple skin. I could always change the colour of your coat too, but I wouldn't get to see the result of my crowning achievement. Cadance screamed again immediately after the needle plunged in. Around the insertion, her skin bubbled, flaked, and then finally fell away in bits. As the acid injection spread across her whole body, Twilight moved her into the large chair at the end of the room. An acid-burned body stared back at her. The switch was complete.

"Well done. Now, let's vacate the area before she comes back to the land of the living." Twilight and her two guards departed the room, headed right for the docking bay where a shuttle waited.

*

Applejack's head hit the concrete wall again. "Shit Spike!" In the months spent at the asylum, she had taken confidence in knowing that Twilight Sparkle had paid for her war crimes. That had turned out to be a lie as well. A brilliantly well played one at that, such deviousness she had never expected from Twilight. But it was hardly something to admire. Finally, she ceased her attempts to cause more brain damage on top of the dementia. "Do the others know? But of course, why hide something like that? And this isn't even all of the news."

A paw rested on her shoulder. "Believe me, we were all worried about how Cope would react when we first found the video. But she was more concerned about whether you had survived too or not. Don't let Twilight become the focus of your life." Applejack turned to look at Spike again. Ten years, despite the hardened exterior, he had the right idea when it mattered. "We can discuss the past later. It's about time you see Sweet Apple Acres, and the rest of Ponyville for that matter. Just be warned, it is not pretty at all. And we may end up fighting necromorphs if there's a pack in town."

Just briefly, Applejack let herself lean against Spike. Standing upright to pound her head against the wall made it a bit easier. She hadn't ever expected to see Sweet Apple Acres again. Towards the end, the decision had always been blowing up the station, or ending up in an insane asylum. By some unforseen power of Celestia, she had managed to do both. "Okay. Just, give me a minute." Spike moved away to let her resume standing on all four hooves. The minute passed, her breathing became regular again. Her heart remained cold as the ice.