"I want it on the slab; I need to know what makes it tick."

―Dr. McMullen

Mercer found himself standing in front of a wooden door. He was confused, unable to determine why or how he’d gotten here, or even where he’d been before. His mind was fuzzy, and his thoughts were sluggish like they were floating in honey. He looked around, trying to piece together the familiarity of this location from the jumbled mess of his mind. He was standing on the porch of a small wooden cabin, tall pines surrounding the clearing it was centered in. A breeze blew past him, bringing with it the distinct smell of pine needles and tree sap. It was like a dream; a realistic, very believable dream.

After a moment he realized just what was so familiar about where he was; it was the cabin he’d rented from Flint at the end of his soul search around the world. He brought a hand up to the wood of the door frame, sliding his fingers down the smooth surface. As he stared at his fingers he couldn’t help but feel like something was off about his hand. He looked down at his body, seeing that he was wearing a red turtle neck and black pants. Not at all part of his usual attire.

It came to him finally. This was right after he’d confronted Flint about his past. And if that was correct, then he had a feeling he wouldn’t be alone once he entered this cabin.

Mercer placed his hand on the doorknob, twisting his wrist and slowly pushing open the door. The inside was decorated with few furnishings. A bed lay on one side of the small cabin, a table with drawers next to it. A dresser stood on the opposite side, just underneath a picture of a black and white photo of some large log house. A plain desk was situated across the room from the doorway, upon which sat the very thing he was now staring unblinking at.

“Autumn...” Upon hearing her name, she turned her head to look at him, mild surprise lighting up her face. He remembered this. All of this. He remembered arriving here, looking for a place to stay. He’d taken on the persona of a former drug dealer he’d killed and stolen money from. He remembered being taken in by Flint and his daughter Autumn, with whom he had actually developed feelings for. After discovering Flint was being extorted for his lumber mill, Mercer had decided to go confront the man responsible, only to discover upon consuming the man that Flint used to work for him, running his own little extortion business. When Mercer had learned that, he’d killed Flint for lying to him. Then he had headed back to his cabin and found Autumn waiting for him.

“Oh, hello Jack. It’s nice to see you here.”

This was impossible. How could he be back here? He wasn’t supposed to be. The last he remembered he was…

He couldn’t remember. His mind was still fuzzy, he couldn’t think straight. He began going through the motions, reciting his part of the last conversation he’d had with Autumn. He asked her to come with him, trying to convince her to leave her father behind and join him. As he spoke, he slowly made his way over to one of the corners of the room, where a loose floorboard was just visible apart from the surrounding ones. He flipped it over only to discover the box underneath where he’d hidden the money from the drug dealers was empty. He looked at the red head, confusion and hurt written on his face. Suddenly she pulled a gun on him, aiming it at his head and firing before he could react.

She began laughing. “You idiot. My daddy taught me better than that. I don’t care about you. I never did. I only care about myself. I don’t need anyone.” Just like before, Mercer felt the disappointment and anger he’d felt towards humanity bubble up from inside himself. He stood up, much to her horror, the hole in his face regenerating back to normal. In one step he was in front of her, and in one second he had killed and consumed her.

This was the event that had made up his mind about humanity; the last piece of proof he needed to kick start his campaign against New York Zero. But why was he being shown this memory? Was this some kind of subconscious attempt to teach him a lesson? Mercer couldn’t figure it out.

“Hello? Are you there? If you can hear me, just try to open your eyes.”

A voice rang out, one that seemed to come from everywhere, but he couldn’t see who was talking. “Berry, can you hear me?” Suddenly Mercer was no longer in the cabin; rather he was floating in a sea of black, the memory already fading fast. A form appeared in front of him, foreign yet somehow vaguely familiar. It looked like a…horse? No, it was too small. What were small horses called again? Ponies. Small horses were called-

Just like that he remembered where he’d been before this. Waking up in the forest, no arms and near death. Almost being eaten by a monstrous beast. Walking to the crest of a hill and seeing that town...

He felt himself being pulled downwards, the darkness rushing past as a bright light somewhere below quickly came up to meet him.

Mercer sat up quickly, eyes wide and fully alert. He gasped for air, not for the oxygen but simply out of habit from when he was a human. He ran a hoof through his mane, the images of the memory he’d just relived still flashing behind his eyes. He looked around the room, only then realizing he wasn’t alone. Standing next to the bed where he lay was a concerned looking Twilight Sparkle, her eyes focused on him intently.

“Thank Celestia your awake! I wasn’t sure you were gonna wake up!” She pressed a hoof to his forehead. “You’re still pretty hot. Spike, go get some more towels!” She shouted to a small purple dragon wearing a nurse’s cap behind her. He ran out of the room after giving a salute. Twilight turned her attention back on him. “What happened to you, Berry?”

“Berry?” Mercer looked down at himself, realizing he was still disguised as Berry Punch. That’s right; he never got the chance to change back before Zecora tried to kill him. “…Uh, how long was I out?” He asked, making sure to mimic Berry’s voice as he spoke.

“About twenty minutes. I found you lying on the ground next to a pile of blue powder. I didn’t know what had happened so I brought you back here to my house and called for nurse Redheart to come and take a look.” She gestured to a bucket on the bedside table. “I scooped up the powder and brought it with me. I figured you might be able to tell me what it is. It doesn’t look like anything that I’ve ever seen.”

Mercer recoiled slightly from the deadly powder, remembering all too well what it could do. “…It’s…uh…it’s a…new ingredient I’ve been trying out.”

Twilight tilted her head. “What is it called?”

Mercer hesitated. “…It’s not really…called anything at the moment. I’m still trying to figure out a name for it.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie. He had no idea what it was. Yet. “What does it matter, anyway?”

“Well, I was just curious. You were lying next to it; I thought you might have had some kind of allergic reaction.”

Mercer nodded. “That’s what I was starting to think.” He eyed the bucket warily. “Do you have any idea what could be in it?”

Twilight brought a hoof to her chin. “I’m not sure…it doesn’t seem to be any kind of toxic material. Although from its texture and consistency I would wager it’s made from some sort of plant or herb. Perhaps a chemical in the leaves that you were allergic to got mixed in. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to use it as an ingredient; someone else could have the same allergy. And if they were to eat the jam made from this,” She gestured to the powder. “Then they might not end up as lucky as you.”

He suppressed a laugh. Lucky? What’s luck got to do about pulling yourself out of a pile of Bloodtox and shaking it off like a dog before passing out in the dirt? That wasn’t luck; that was sheer force of will. “So, do you have any way of finding out what it’s made of?”

Twilight nodded slowly. “Well…yes, but I think a better question would be ‘Where did you get this stuff?’ It doesn’t look like anything you could get easily here in Ponyville.”

Mercer started to come up with an excuse, but stopped himself. If Zecora was gracious enough to give him this “special ingredient”, then who was he to deny her recognition for such a good deed?

He smiled politely. “Zecora gave it to me. She said she ‘made it special’ just for me.”

The look of shock that came over the librarians face was just what he was hoping for. “…Zecora made it for you?” She scrunched her face in thought. “…I would think she was smarter than to mix herbs that could be dangerous to ponies…” She paused. “…I-I’m sure she didn’t mean to. It was probably just a mistake.” She looked uncertain of her own words.

Mercer hid his satisfaction. It seems sowing seeds of distrust was easier when the one in question was a recluse who spent most of her time in a forest.

“…Anyway, I would like to see what she used in this powder. I might need help though. Do you know anyone that might be interested? Spike won’t help me anymore after I tried to see if I could replicate a star in my lab and caused a minor explosion that turned his scales black for a few hours. ”

“It wasn’t for a few hours, it was a few days! I took hundreds of baths before I finally washed it all out!” They turned to see that the dragon in question had returned with the wet towels, a frown on his face.

“I said I was sorry, Spike. Can’t you just let it go?” Twilight picked up one of the towels with her magic, bringing it up and placing it on Mercer’s forehead, much to his annoyance.

“I will only let it go as long as you keep your promise to never make me help you with crazy experiments like that again.”

She shook her head, sighing. “Fine. But if you won’t help me than who will?”

Mercer smirked. “I think I may know someone that will be willing to help.”

He adjusted the lens on the microscope, bringing his next slide into focus. He monitored the small bit of liquid between the thin pieces of glass with a trained eye, paying close attention to every micrometer. So far the nine slides he’d looked at hadn’t yielded many results; mostly just rehydrated plant and fungi cells, which confirmed Twilight’s hypothesis that the powder most likely consisted of herbs and other medicinal substances, exactly the kind of things a zebra living in a self-sustaining forest would be able to find with ease.

He was in Twilight’s basement, a room she normally used for this exact kind of thing. She owned a wide collection of scientific tools and equipment, a bit dated and not at all what he was used to but still capable of getting the job done. Of course he had a bit of difficulty at first learning how to use equipment that didn’t run off electricity, but once he got the hang of it that problem solved itself.

The problem that lay before him now was the task of isolating each individual cell from the ingredients used and identifying which organisms they came from. Not an easy thing to accomplish, but he wasn’t complaining. In fact, he was actually enjoying the menial work. It reminded him of his days working for Gentek on the Blacklight project. He had been the first person to create a new, more powerful strain of the Redlight virus. The very same strain he eventually unleashed on himself.

Finished with his latest slide, he carefully lifted it off the stage with his teeth and set it down next to the others. He turned around and walked over to where Twilight was stationed, peering over her shoulder to see where she had gotten with her work. She had four beakers floating above a large flask, carefully pouring the contents of each drop by drop. The purple pony was concentrating so hard she hadn’t even realized Mercer was standing right behind her. He left her be; one thing he learned long ago was that concentrating scientists, dangerous chemicals and loud noises did not mix well.

He headed back to the table he had been working on, heading for the centrifuge set up at the end of the table. It was an old model, a relic back in the world he knew, that required the use of a hand crank to keep it spinning. He had to keep coming back to it every few minutes to give the crank a few more turns, otherwise it would stop prematurely and he would have to start over. The beakers held inside it contained the next batch of samples he needed to check under the microscope, and he was hoping they held the secrets he’d spent the last few hours trying to unlock. The other slides had proved inconclusive; the majority of the cells came from harmless plants that had most likely gotten mixed in by mistake. The rest is what he was having trouble with. The powder was inlaid with some sort of strange substance that prevented any chance of getting a proper sample. Zecora obviously didn’t want him finding out what it was.

“Twilight, can you try mixing together a solution to separate the structure of the powder?” He began turning the crank with a hoof as he asked. “I think there’s some kind of chemical mixed in with it. If we can neutralize it somehow it might allow for a better test sample.”

She didn’t even turn around when she responded. “Sure, I’ll get to that in a moment.” She continued working with no pause or hesitation. She was a true scientist, never letting anything distract her if she could help it. It made him think about the members of his team researching Blacklight back in Gentek. They could work for hours and not even realize someone was sick for the day.

Mercer let go of the crank, watching the rotor inside spin the test tubes, which reminded him of the blades of the Blackwatch gunships back in NYZ. He could almost hear the engines and feel the wind blowing across his face. If he closed his eyes he could swear he was latched onto the side of one, ready to rip the door off and yank the pilot out. He stopped day dreaming when a bell on the machine went off; indicating the timer was done and the test tubes were ready to be taken out. He stopped the rotor and carefully lifted one of the four tubes out with calipers designed to be used with hooves, placing it in a rack to keep it steady. He did the same with the rest, lining them all up and making small marks on the tubes with ink to distinguish between them. Lastly he picked up a dropper in his teeth and dipped the end into the first tube, sucking up the contents that had settled on the bottom. He brought it over to an awaiting slide and let a small drop fall onto the piece of glass, covering it with the other half and putting it next to the microscope.

After he had done the same with the rest of the samples, he once again began going through the motions he was most familiar with: placing each slide under the lens and inspecting them carefully. The results were the same as the last nine; damaged cellular structures well beyond the point of recognition and useless plant and fungi cells. Mercer scowled after he finished looking at the last slide, angry that a skilled virologist couldn’t even figure out what a baby blue powder could possibly be made of.

His anger was short lived, because suddenly the pony behind him gasped loudly. He turned around to see her literally shaking with excitement, a large smile across her face. “I just had an epiphany!”

Mercer looked at her confusedly. “Really now? I would have thought you just swallowed a jumping bean.”

Twilight didn’t hear him, already running about the room like a madpony, levitating chemical filled beakers and all but throwing them to the table. Once she had everything she needed she began measuring and pouring everything into a large glass receptacle, sticking her tongue out as she concentrated. Mercer walked over and watched her curiously, wondering what she was up to.

When she was satisfied with her little mixture, a lime green liquid that bubbled mysteriously, she lifted a scoop out of the bucket that held the powder and dumped it into the glass. Immediately the liquid turned dark purple and began smoking, the bubbling from before increasing to the point that it made the glass start to shake. It fell over on its side, rolling across the table and over the edge, shattering on impact with the ground. The liquid began bubbling even more violently then before, sizzling like it was on a hot plate.

Mercer and Twilight backed up a few steps in surprise, putting more distance between them and the strange goo. It continued to boil and sizzle for a few more seconds until it finally just stopped, becoming nothing but a dark purple puddle lying on the floor.

They continued to watch it, waiting for it to do something else. When it didn’t, Twilight used her magic to pick up the quill she had been using to mark the beakers and lowered it to poke the liquid. Before she could even get near it the puddle suddenly rose up, hissing sharply and recoiling like a snake. It then slinked away to a corner of the room, squeezing itself through a crack in the wall and disappearing through it.

They stared at where it had gone for several minutes, the shock of it still leaving them speechless. Finally, Mercer turned to Twilight, a single question on his mind. “What was the point of that?”

She took a few moments to answer, her eyes still fixed on the crack it had gone through. “…I-It was…supposed to just tell us what the blue powder is.” She pulled her gaze away and focused on him. “I have no idea what all that was about, I swear! I’m just as surprised as you are!”

Mercer raised an eyebrow. “All right then, did it work? I couldn’t exactly tell what it was hissing at me, although I did take it as some sort of racial slur.”

Twilight shook her head. “Oh, right. Sorry.” She walked over to the table, minding the glass spread around on the floor. “I was doing what you suggested, mixing a solution to neutralize the chemicals present in the powder, and then I had an idea of what it could be. So I mixed together a base to see if my hypothesis was correct.” She looked back at the wall where it had disappeared. “It was supposed to just turn purple if I was right. I can’t imagine what I could have done wrong to make it do that.”

“Well, unless I’m shell shocked after meeting the blob monster, it did turn purple. What exactly was your hypothesis?”

She smiled. “Poison Joke.” Mercer stared at her blankly. “…I’m guessing by that expression you don’t know what Poison Joke is?”

“Get on with it, Sparkle.” He said flatly.

She giggled. “Ok, ok. Poison Joke is just like poison oak, only instead of causing itching and a nasty rash, it has…other effects.” She blushed as she spoke, which told him that she had experienced firsthand these so called “effects”. “I won’t go into details, but I will summarize that it’s not a pleasant experience in the slightest.”

“So this…‘Poison Joke’…is it something that can be easily obtained?”

She nodded. “Oh yeah, it’s everywhere. My friends and I got it once when we walked into a whole grove of it. It looks like normal blue flowers, but the petals have a toxic coating that causes strange effects on a pony’s body.” After she said that, she looked like something had just occurred to her. “Although…it doesn’t explain why it had such a bad effect on Berry Punch. If it was only Poison Joke, she would have just shrunk or had her tongue swell up like a polka-dotted balloon, but when I found her lying there, she looked almost dead. I’m not sure if it’s possible to have an allergy to it, but if you can I don’t think that was the case.”

Mercer remembered the pain he’d felt from the powder on his body. It was like a brand, like someone was rolling him across hot coals while simultaneously pouring liquid metal over him. He shivered at the memory. “That’s one hell of a joke then. With a killer punch line to boot.”

Twilight snorted. “You’re telling me.” Then she frowned. “I guess it’s true then. Zecora really did try to poison Berry.” Her head fell. “But why would she do that? I’ve never known Zecora to be so…violent. Even when everypony else thought she was dangerous, she was still nothing but courteous.” The mare was clearly disappointed and in need of a friendly gesture.

“Yep, it’s always a bummer when a close friend turns homicidal. What do you say we get back to work? There’s still plenty we can learn from this powder.” Mercer was definitely not the right person to expect friendliness from.

The timer on the centrifuge dinged again, bringing Mercer’s attention away from his work on the microscope. After Twilight had successfully figured out what the powder was, it made it easier to obtain better samples. They had been at work all day, researching and experimenting, disproving theories on what could have been added to the Poison Joke one after the other. As the sun went down and the night began wearing on, the librarian had finally given in to her basic need for sleep, collapsing on a pillow in the corner and passing out almost immediately. Of course Mercer didn’t need sleep; being a Prototype he didn’t exactly possess the same metabolic requirements as other living organisms.

He walked over to the centrifuge, opening it up and removing the test tubes inside. He was still looking at the samples, waiting for the right one to show up and tell him what he needed to know.

Unbeknownst to him, a small flicker of movement appeared in the corner near where Twilight lay. Several long, skinny tendrils came out of a small crack in the floor, feeling around like an ant’s antennae. Once they were satisfied it was safe, they reached upwards, wrapping around knots in the wooden walls in a tight hold. Slowly, they began to retract; pulling the near viscous body of the creature they belonged to out and on to the floor. Once it was free, it began crawling across the floor, using the tendrils like arms to drag itself around. It came to one of the legs on the table Mercer was standing at, watching him prepare slides warily. The creature stayed perfectly still, trying not to attract attention to itself. After a moment it turned around and faced the sleeping pony in the corner, flicking its tendrils slightly as if it was licking its lips.

Mercer noticed the small amount of movement out of the corner of his eye, turning his head to look. Seeing nothing but empty floor, he shrugged and returned to his work.

After he looked away, a small puddle of purplish goo began slinking away from the table. When the creature realized it had been spotted, it had pulled its body flat against the side of the table leg, hiding itself from view. Now it quickly made its way over to the purple mare, hiding behind the pillow she was lying on and checking to make sure Mercer hadn’t seen it again. He remained oblivious, his face glued to the eye piece on the microscope.

It crawled around the pillow and faced Twilight again, holding a tendril up slowly to touch her hoof. When it made contact she pulled away, rolling over onto her back. The creature hissed at her, fleeing back behind the pillow. This time when it once more emerged from its hiding place, it climbed over the edge of the pillow and pulled itself next to her head. It reached over and touched her ear, recoiling when it caused her to flick it in irritation.

Finally the creature’s curiosity had been sated; it was now done playing with its food. It reared back; small, jagged spikes coming out of its body, its tendrils splitting apart into tiny razors. It jumped into the air, aiming its body to land on her face.

Fortunately for Twilight, it never made it to its target. Just as it was about to land a large glass beaker was held in place above the pony, catching the small creature inside. It looked up and hissed, seeing the smirking face of Mercer looking down into the glass. It tried to jump back out but was blocked when he placed a wooden board over the top, sealing it within.

Still smirking, he turned the beaker upside down and placed it and the board on the table, watching the creature inside flail about in its fruitless attempt at escape.

“I knew you’d be back. You may have had Miss Sparkle fooled, but I’d recognize my own work anywhere.” It hissed menacingly, swiping its razors at him but only leaving tiny scratches on the inside of the beaker. “Now let’s see just what you are.” He lifted the beaker just a tiny bit, waiting for the creature to reach one of its tendrils through the gap. Once it did, he pushed the beaker back down, pinning its tendril to the board. He then picked up a scalpel and sliced the tip of the appendage off, allowing the creature to pull it back inside the glass.

He picked it up after it stopped squirming around, trapping it in one of the slides and placing it under the microscope. When he adjusted it to see clearly, he saw the all too familiar sight of infected Blacklight viral cells looking for more bio matter to convert into energy. He took a deep breath, pulling away from the eye piece and staring at the virus ridden creature still hissing at him.

“So it’s true then…you’re Blacklight.” He wasn’t surprised. The moment he saw the creature hiss at Twilight after it was created he knew what it had to be. It was an obvious discovery, any Gentek employee could have spotted it with ease. The unknown chemical that was preventing him from getting a good sample was also keeping the virus suppressed, and once the chemical was neutralized it began absorbing the rehydrated cells from the Poison Joke petals, converting them into biomass and creating a body for itself. Mercer knew it would be back because as far as he knew, he was the only other being in this world that emitted a Blacklight signature, and the virus is naturally drawn to other signals similar to its own. He tapped the side of the glass; startling the creature and making it jump to the top and stick there like a wad of chewing gum. It was bigger than it was when it first scuttled away hours ago, it must have consumed a few insects or spiders on its journey through the cracks in the floor.

He lifted up the beaker and shook it, making the little gum wad fall onto his hoof. Immediately it began attacking him, jabbing its razors into his leg and hissing more than ever. He chuckled quietly, mocking its feeble attempts to hurt him. “You’re so cute. If only I was interested in getting a pet, I might just think about keeping you.” He brought his hoof down, stomping the creature into the floor. “But alas, it would be too dangerous to my cause to leave you alive.” With almost no effort on his part, he consumed the small creature, absorbing the dark purple splatter beneath his hoof like a sponge. It wasn’t worth the biomass, but he couldn’t just throw it away. The Blacklight virus was extremely resilient; if he didn’t dispose of it properly it could infect another organism. And he wasn’t quite ready for that to happen just yet.

With all that done, he checked to make sure Twilight hadn’t woken up. She was still sound asleep, breathing steadily as her REM cycle continued uninterrupted. Good, no unwanted questions needed answering. For tonight anyway.

As he packed the equipment and tools up to be put away, Mercer had a few nagging thoughts still invading his mind. Where had Zecora gotten the virus from? How had she known what chemical to mix with it in order to subdue it? How could she have figured out how to deploy it so effectively? Either this zebra was a lot smarter than he thought, or…

“Or someone is helping her.” He said out loud, freezing in place with a hoof raised midway to grab a glass on the table. He stared straight ahead, not focusing on anything in particular, just running through a thousand different reasons on why that couldn’t be true. He wasn’t able to think of anything. All the signs pointed to that. She knew about him. Before he was even aware she was watching him, she knew about him. No one was that intuitive. She knew what he was, and now, less than a week later, she knew his weakness.

The powder. There was no way she could have figured out so quickly he was susceptible to Poison Joke. He hadn’t even known that! Something about the toxin in the petals caused necrosis of his cellular structure, encouraging the virus cells to attack. This wasn’t Bloodtox. This was something even more powerful. Something that could potentially kill him.

Perhaps that was it though. That’s what she was up to. She ambushed him, caught him off guard. He had been weakened, giving her the perfect opportunity to kill him, and yet here he was. That wasn’t an attempt on his life; that was a demonstration. If she had wanted to kill him, she could have easily finished it herself. She was toying with him, showing him what she was capable of.

He remembered what she had said about him not noticing the signs of her trap. She was right. When he got to the street Berry Punch’s shop was on, it was empty. He hadn’t realized it at the time, but now it was obvious. It was still morning, why would the street be empty? And the door to the shop. He hadn’t even questioned why it was jammed. It was because the powder had settled over time .When he kicked in the door, it created a draft that scattered the settled powder on the floor of the shop. She had planned it all out.

Mercer grabbed his head, attempting to shake his growing migraine away. All this Zecora business was messing with his mind. It was sort of a recurring thought, but of all the things he had experienced already, this was the sort of thing he never expected from a world of talking ponies.

He took a breath to calm himself, continuing with his task of packing up all the science equipment. ‘So the plot thickens,’ he thought to himself. Between losing his headway on Rainbow Dash and then almost getting killed by Zecora, the plot was indeed gaining some momentum.

And now he had yet another thing to deal with. Someone was helping Zecora. Someone who had access to the Blacklight virus. However impossible it sounded, there was no other explanation. Either they had somehow replicated the virus here in Equestria, or someone followed him that already had it. He kicked himself. No, it was a stupid thought. Mercer wasn’t even sure how he got there himself. There was just no way. Heller couldn’t have followed him here.

…Could he?

Author's Note

This chapter took me a while longer then the others. I kept putting it off to play video games and watch TV on Netflix. Then when I'd look at my computer I'd think "Someone should really start working on that." Afterwards I'd just be like "Oh, right."

Anywho, lots of sciency stuff in this chapter. Most of it probably isn't even right. You can only retain so much after high school. Science was my best class, and yet I can't remember the difference between a "Eukaryotic" and a "Prokaryotic" cell. Oh well. I'm writing stories for a My Little Pony fan site, it's not like I'm planning on adding a thesis and submitting this in the form of a scientific journal or anything.
-Poly