Ambitions of The Stained Glass Knight

Stepping from the ruined castle, Calloway turned around, to get one last look at it. It was made of a gray stone, and had obviously been quite grand at one point at time.

That time was long gone.

Calloway extended his thumb, and clicked the hammer back on his gun.

"Caia MUST be about..." He muttered to himself. He balled up his right hand, realizing it was still injured. He was bleeding quite a bit, and the wound was causing him intense pain, but he didn't have time to worry about it. Caia and her men were ravaging Metropolis. They may have dragged him into this forest and left him to die, but Calloway wasn't going to abandon his duty.

Not here, not now.

Calloway was never what one would consider religious. Even as a child, when their daily routines would consist of prayer to The Architect before every action, he still wasn't convinced. It wasn't an act of rebellion, or an attempt to deceive his people; he just believed otherwise. As a child, he dreamed of freedom. He dreamed of a romantic relationship with someone he chose himself, of having an occupation he enjoyed, of wearing a color other than white. Nothing too extravagant, just something other than white.

Even with his mind unshackled by his society, Calloway still felt strong conviction. While he may not agree with their views or political system, they were still his people. And the way his society was set up, if one person fails at their task at hand, everyone feels it in some way. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't join Caia, even if he wanted to.

Caia... He thought, squeezing the grip of his handgun tightly. She had him shot, she had all of those guards killed, and then had the audacity to offer him defection. Calloway eased his grip, letting the cool waters of calmness rush over the angry shores of his mind. His right hand was now completely red with blood, causing a sharp contrast from that of his white Sentinel armor.

Calloway did agree with his people and their religion on one of their values, and that was violence doesn't solve anything. Although they didn't exactly practice this idea, Calloway firmly believed it. Violence should always be a last resort.

The Rebel that he had killed outside of The Sacrament's gate had forced his hand. Calloway didn't want to kill him.

A quick examination of the forest around him revealed many things. The first thing was, Calloway had absolutely no idea where he was. None at all. There was a beaten and worn path that led from the castle, but that was it. No signs of civilization, save for the occasional crumbled statue.

The second thing was, a civilization must have been here at some point, which also didn't make sense. In school, Calloway was taught that there were only 5 Cities on Holy Terra. Metropolis, Babylon, Artemis, Tokyo, and Cypher. As a student, he was taught a grim lesson regarding this fact.

A very long time ago, Civilization was evil. Man killed man mindlessly, man defied The Architect, man broke his promises to Mother Nature. Then The Great Purge occurred as a result. Calloway was taught that this Purge took the form of an intense Pandemic. Those infected would die within hours, and they would die in absolute pain. Those afflicted would experience cold chills one moment, then practically burn up the next. A series of other various aches and pains would rack their bodies until, finally, they would cry blood. 1-3 hours later, they would die, their sad eyes crusted shut from blood.  This was their punishment.

Governments soon fell. Whole countries died in days. When the Purge had been lifted by The Architect, man came together. Metropolis, Babylon, Artemis and Cypher were built over thousands of years, while Tokyo was simply reclaimed by man.

This is when trouble began. Tokyo apparently was very rich with resources. Many survivors of the Purge flocked to Tokyo, hoping to restart civilization as it once was. The city of Artemis allied with them, aiming for the same purpose. They seeked to redo that which caused Mankind to fall. Metropolis, Babylon, and Cypher allied, hell bent on destroying Tokyo and Artemis, for the greater good.

To this very day, the cities fight.

Of course, Calloway had read plenty in his life, and was able to form an idea of why these things were without the use of religion. Some awful contagion spread across the world, killing billions. Those left were simply immune to it. Those with minds of logic naturally grouped with like minded people, while the superstitious gathered with one another, as well. That explains the cities conflicting beliefs. Metropolis simply used these beliefs to fit their own agenda.

Now, why it didn't make sense was directly related to this lesson: Most things from before The Purge were either decayed and useless, or completely gone. Thousands of years of weather, war and age took their toll. These statues, although old and ruined, were still mostly intact. One could tell they were once statues, and not just a peculiar hunk of metal. What they resembled didn't make much sense either, as they appeared to be small horses with armor on them. Perhaps the civilization that used to be here worshipped horses. Calloway had never heard of anything like that, but kept his mind opened.

The third, and last thing that seemed important, was that the path was now forking off into two different directions. One left, one right. The path on the left looked just as old as the one Calloway was on, if not older. The one on the right, however, looked slightly newer, it's dirt a brighter color, and even a small fence lining the trail. Calloway obviously took the path on the right, hoping to find civilization soon.

The trees in this forest were like none Calloway had ever seen in his entire life. They seemed to sulk, their leaves a dark green. There was a surplus of weeping willow trees, just as the Sacrament contained, but something about this particular forest made Calloway feel that it wasn't the Sacrament. While everything looked the same, it all felt different.

Wandering through the forest, his right hand clenched and his left hand steadied on his gun, Calloway questioned where he was as he searched for his home.

His answer was at hand.

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Rarity was absolutely ecstatic. Sweetie Belle wasn't quite old enough to comprehend why somepony would find this interesting, but she shared her sisters excitement. While history had proven to be Twilight Sparkle's forté, the idea of "Marestrom", as it was called, fascinated Rarity.

Was it the dashing ancient Hero in white armor?

Was it the idea of hidden knowledge?

Rarity opened the door to the Carousel Boutique for Sweetie Belle, and closed it behind them. Today, Princess Celestia herself was coming to Ponyville, to share small stories and tidbits of information regarding the history of Everfree. The only thing was, Celestia wasn't comfortable discussing much of it at all. It seemed to cause her discomfort.

Being that as it was, the very fact that she was coming to speak of it was very exciting.

The walk to the schoolhouse was a short one. The majority of Ponyville had gathered around the schoolhouse, where Celestia was going to speak. In fact, Celestia was already behind the podium, preparing her "speech" of sorts while the fillies in the audience began to file in order, eagerly waiting.

Today was bound to be an interesting day for Rarity.

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A town was coming into sight. Calloway could make out buildings at the end of the forest, past a clearing.

With renewed hope, he shifted his walk to a jog.

With this renewed hope, came renewed anxiety. What if this was the Anarchitect side of Metropolis? What if he was too late, and all of the civilians were dead?

Even though it caused him great pain to do so, Calloway drew his sword with his right hand, wincing and grunting with pain with every exhale.

Renewed anxiety soon became a strong fear, and with it, Calloway's jog shifted to a run.

Every moment he wasn't there to help, his friends, his family, they were at risk. Of course, Calloway knew that, even if he was there, he wouldn't be able to make much of a difference. He was never a fighter, even after his training. But in this moment, he couldn't bear the thought of not being there. It made him feel powerless.

Strong fear immediately became intense panic, and Calloway's running burst into a full sprint, his sword held low but steady, and his gun at his side. It appeared that the more time he had to think, the more he would analyze the situation and upgrade the severity of it.

Rocketing out of the forest and through the clearing, Calloway came upon the town. He snapped from his panic, remembering his training. Taking a deep breath, he slithered behind the wall of a house, and pulled the faceguard on his helmet down. In the distance, he could hear a feminine voice speaking. Giving a speech, it sounded like.

"Caia..." Calloway choked out in anger. He was now gripping both his gun and his sword extremely hard. So hard, that the wound on his right hand was completely numb. Upon brief examination of his wound, Calloway found that the lower half of his sword was also covered in his blood. It didn't seem to have an end, the blood. He was starting to feel dizzy, but anger and adrenaline kept him focused.

Although Tobiah only spent several weeks on Stealth training, Calloway had excelled in those lessons. Now, they would actually come into use. Sliding from building to building, shadow to shadow, he wormed his way closer to the feminine voice he was hearing.

Oddly, there were no people in the streets.

They must have been assembled around the voice.

Also, there were no bodies. No blood. No guns without owners nor bullet shells. Had the fighting not reached his part of Metropolis yet?

Close enough to actually make out what the voice was saying, Calloway eavesdropped while continuing his sneaking.

"...I made a promise, long, long ago, that I would make this land better for our kind!" The voice spoke in the distance. "That our working classes would receive more respect, while our noble classes remained balanced. I made promises of equality..."

Calloway ran down an alleyway, and poked his head around the corner extremely quickly.

Clear. He darted openly across what looked like a marketplace, to the other side of the streets, taking refuge in the alleys across the way. He continued the maze and eavesdropping.

"...long ago, we did inhabit another area. Times were certainly different back then, but, they were important nonetheless. We strived for the same values we strive to uphold this very day..."

Calloway was getting angrier. He had no idea what business Caia had with addressing a crowd, and why she was sounding so stoic. Her speeches were usually only delivered to her militia, never involving innocent civilians. They also tended to be very violent and angry. This voice sounded very calm, and for some odd reason, it was making Calloway's blood boil.

Continuing his last bout of stealth, Calloway finally reached the corner of a house nearest to the speech that was occurring. One turn of the corner, and he would have Caia in his sights.

"...and so, I can only hope, that we can continue to make the world, our world, a better place..."

Calloway winced with disbelief, and, with rage overtaking him, burst around the corner of the house, holding his sword low and leveling his gun, immediately aiming down the sights.

"CAIA!" He shouted while making this transition.

What he saw, was not Caia.

What he saw, was something he was not expecting.

A horde of small horses, each varying in bright color, seemed to be gathered around a larger, white unicorn-type creature.

Each and every single one was now staring at him.

"Is that...?" The large white unicorn said, quickly using her wings to float down from her podium.

She was approaching Calloway, who was in turn, panicking.

His heart was beating in his throat, his lungs were going into overdrive, and his mind seemingly spun in circles trying to comprehend what was happening. With every step the unicorn creature took towards him, he took two steps back. Calloway noticed that several of these small horses were wearing armor, and seemingly carried spears. They rushed over to the unicorn's side, spears pointed out, joining it in it's approach of him.

That was the final straw, the one that forced Calloway's hand.

He held his gun high, and, quickly squeezed the cold iron trigger. Then he did it again. Two loud cracks from his handgun echoed throughout the now silent town. The suddenness and intensity of the situation, coupled with the loudness of his guns seemingly made a few of the young horses, fillies, cry from fright.

Calloway then lowered his gun at the white unicorn, and then pointed his sword out at a random guard.

"STAY. BACK." He shouted. Calloway looked around his environment rapidly. Should he run? Where was he? What was happening? Did Caia drug him? Calloway dropped his sword subconsciously, which was holding a good amount of blood in his wounded hand. Blood now flowed freely from his hand, dripping down his fingertips once more.

Shaking, but still holding his gun out, Calloway put his wounded palm over his face briefly, unintentionally smearing blood all over the faceguard of his helmet. He slid the faceguard up, and gently touched his forehead, attempting to sort out his thoughts.

"Guards. Lower your weapons, and step back to the crowd." The white unicorn said.

"Princess, we can't do that." One of the guards said, not breaking his gaze off Calloway.

"That's a direct order." The unicorn said, eerily calm.

"Celestia-"

"Now." It said even more sternly. The guards sighed, and reluctantly stepped back, disarming themselves.

Calloway was now examining his hand, and his entire being at that, obviously in complete shock.

"I...I...I don't..." He stammered. The white unicorn creature, now identified as Celestia, approached him once more, slowly walking in his direction. Calloway jumped, then lowered his gun at her. The guards back in the crowd winced, but Celestia continued her stroll.

"My guards have lowered their weapons. Please, will you also do so? You do not have to drop them, nor give them over. Simply put them away."

Calloway shook in place, still holding his gun out towards her, his finger ready on the trigger.

"Please. We mean you no harm." She continued. Celestia looked at Calloway's bleeding hand, and the mess it was making. He noticed this, and hid the hand behind his back, afraid of her intentions. "You are hurt. Please. We can help you."

Calloway was still trembling, his gun still readied. He licked his lips.

"W-Why should I trust you?" His voice shook. Celestia smiled very weakly.

"I assume you have something to do with the stained glass." Celestia said. At this remark, Calloway stopped shaking, and went into thought, his eyes opening wide. "I believe I know why you're here, traveller. There is also a way back to your home. But you must cooperate with me. With us."

Calloway, while more calm, was still not convinced. It was obvious he was still working out thoughts in his head. Celestia noticed, and now smiled warmly.

"Please traveller. I want to help you." She continued to plead. Calloway remained stoic. "May I at least take care of your hand? You are quite injured." She asked. Calloway just looked at her, and then back at his hand, not responding. "Well, here. I have to touch your hand to heal it. So, I shall make you a compromise of sorts. If you must, you may hold your weapon to my head as I heal your hand. I trust you. Now, you must trust me. Does that sound fair?"

Calloway thought deeply, and hesitantly shook his head. Celestia slowly approached him, sliding her head underneath of the barrel of the gun. Calloway affirmed it's pressure, making sure she wouldn't be able to slip away easily if this was a trick. He held his wounded hand out to her, which she stared at intently.

"You poor thing..." She said, examining the details of the wound. "...I believe I can fix it. May I proceed?" She asked. Calloway shook his head slowly, pulling back the hammer on his gun with a click. Celestia simply smiled, and neared her horn to the wound. "This won't hurt a bit."

Calloway watched as her horn began to glow with a cloudy aura, which transferred over to his hand. In a mixture of intrigue and dread, he watched as twisted bone straightened itself, as severed veins reclaimed one another, as skin stretched and rejoined. Pain left his hand, and the blood that once covered him seemingly disintegrated.

His hand was all better.

It was as if he was never shot.

Calloway reset the hammer, and holstered his gun. He was calming down. He was still frightened, but it wasn't as intense.

"I...I'm sorry...thank you..." He muttered, examining his hand. When he looked up, he felt even more foolish. A few of the fillies were still sobbing with fear, while the other horses looked on with either contempt or concern. They really did mean no harm. The awkward silence was broken by Celestia.

"Your left hand. Is that a glove over it? Made of metal?" She asked inquisitively, examining it's detail. Calloway swallowed, and inhaled deeply. He knew she was simply trying to tone down the atmosphere, and he decided to take it.

"N-No. It's a complete prosthetic." He answered. He held his left hand out, releasing the metallic fingers and twirling them about, to show his dexterity with his hand.

"Were you in an accident?" She asked again.

"No. The left hand is the hand of the Anarchitect. My people force amputations of males at the age of 18, and replace them with..." Calloway looked at his hand, forming a fist. "...these."

"Interesting." Celestia said, ending her ice-breaking maneuvers.  "Well, you have plenty of questions, I am sure. Come. Walk with me. Guards, I'll return in a moment. Please do not follow us."

Celestia began to walk away from Calloway, leading him away from the crowd. The crowd had started speaking among themselves in whispers. The crying fillies had been silenced. Calloway knelt down, picking up his sword with his newly-healed hand, and sheathed it.

After walking for quite a bit in silence, Celestia and Calloway came upon the clearing that he had to cross to arrive in Ponyville.

"May I ask your name?" Celestia asked, sitting near a fence.

"Calloway." Calloway responded, climbing up, and sitting on, the exact same fence.

"Well, Calloway, it's a pleasure to meet you. But, I believe we are far enough from my ponies to discuss this openly. Please, get comfortable. I suppose you want an explanation. I have one for you.

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My name is Princess Celestia. All you see here is my kingdom, Equestria. As you should be able to tell, we are...different...from your universe. My people, are ponies. Earth ponies, the larger ones without a horn or wings, Pegasi, the smaller ones with wings, and finally, Unicorns, the ones with horns. Earth ponies are known more for their strength and size, Pegasi are noted for their ability to fly, and Unicorns use magic as often as they breathe. I am an Alicorn, as I carry all three traits.

Yes, magic is an integral part of our Universe. Architect was surprised when I told him that, I'd imagine you would be too. I'll explain who Architect was in just a moment.

My sister, Luna, has had a troubled past. She ruled with me for some quite time, before she fell from her grace. It is an incredibly long story, but, I will simply say this: It ended with her banishment to the moon. After her banishment, I grew very lonely. The castle we inhabited, the one you must have arrived in, grew inhospitable.

Then, one day, as I had went for stroll to clear my mind, it happened.

I was just emerging from the Everfree Forest, looking upon the massive expansive that is now Ponyville, when I noticed what looked like a cloud, growing just above the ground. It wasn't a big cloud, only about my size, but the fact that I was watching it grow literally inches above the ground was unsettling. A few moments later, what looked like bright flashes of light made the cloud glow. It then slowly pulled back, revealing a visitor.

Standing tall, and on two legs, was a creature I had never seen before. He was dressed in a shining white armor, one comprised of technology even I was unable to comprehend. His helmet is what I remembered most. It covered his entire head, and over where his face should be was a navy blue visor. As soon as the cloud had completely vanished, he slowly moved his arms and legs about, examining his fingers.

When I suppose he was pleased with himself, he pushed a button on the side of his helmet, which made the navy blue visor light up into an extremely bright cyan. He then immediately looked to me. I still remember his first words, which he said under his breath, and to the gadget on his wrist, as he approached me.

"Carpenter, this is Architect. I've arrived. It isn't what we wanted, but it'll work."

What's ironic about this situation, is that I responded in the same way you did to me. I ran, panicking. He chased me. Eventually, I fell, hurting my left foreleg. When he caught up to me, he knelt beside me, holding his hands up to show he meant no harm. He turned his helmet to the side, and removed it, revealing his face.

He was pale, with deep brown eyes and short brown hair.

He made a fist, and pointed it down, which allowed small machinery to eject from his wrist. I'm not sure how he did it, but healed my leg almost immediately.

He explained that in his universe, severe war had broken out. Violent war. He explained that, his faction were on the verge of being defeated by their enemies, who sought to create a violent, global dictatorship. He said that they had manufactured a virus, a disease, that they were going to use to attempt to put their enemies out of commision, but apparently, it got out of hand. It proved to be fatal, which was against their intentions. Then it spread across his world, killing an extreme amount of it's populace. He said that, since the majority of their scientists were dead, that they were seeking help in a different way: traversing other realities.

I know it sounds insane, and impossible at that. I felt the same way. "Architect", as he was called, was one of many soldiers sent to various Universes to help manufacture a cure, a vaccine, anything that would keep the virus from killing off all of his universe.

We grew close in our studies. It wasn't long before we became romantically involved, which, in hindsight, was a mistake. I knew he had to leave.

He constructed several pieces of machinery in the room behind my throne room, and then built a grand mural, a stained glass mural, to cover it. He said it was going to be an emergency link between his world, and mine, incase anything bad happened.

He promised me, that if they found a cure, that if they helped their people, he would come back.

We parted in the same field he appeared in. I watched as he pressed a few buttons on his wrist, and the same clouds that spit him out grew around him, swallowing him. This time, when the clouds dissipated, he was gone.

I waited for him for several years.

After 300 years had passed, I somberly accepted his fate, and moved on.

And now, several thousand years later, you show up here.

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Calloway sat in deep thought, as Celestia began to use what he assumed was magic. A small, white orb appeared above Calloway's hands. A small, rectangular tablet fell from it.

"He left behind many of these, just in case anyone came through his device behind the stained glass. I keep this on me at all times, for nostalgic purposes, but the others, I have forgotten what I've done with them. I'll find them, and have them delivered to you. As for returning home, we simply have to repower his device. I'm not quite sure how, but I'm sure we'll figure it out. You go ahead and watch what he left for you, all I ask is that you return it."

Calloway looked up at Celestia, who was looking off into the forest now identified as the Everfree Forest.

"I must return to my ponies now, assure them that everything is okay, and that our new guest means no harm. Please return to Ponyville, the town you were just in, at your leisure. I'll be waiting."

Calloway nods, and watches as Celestia walks off. Looking down at the odd device now in his hands. He pressed the only button on it, illuminating it's odd glass screen, and watched what it contained.

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"I know you're confused, but please, bare with me. If this is in your hands, you've likely either used the teleporter unintentionally, or used it for it's actual purpose. Either way, it's very important that you realize something: my world, YOUR world, is in, or was in, great peril. Hell, I'm not even sure that anyone will ever find this, there's a strong possibility that we'll all die here."

The Architect shifted in his seat. He was wearing his armor, but his helmet was off. The technology in the background, the armor he was wearing, all of it seemed so futuristic. The Architect smiled, and inhaled.

"If we don't, and you do have this recorder in your hands, it means that you've found Celestia. Excellent. Great gal, huh? Not the point, however. These recorders are being left behind as a set of instructions. I am not going to tell you what you must do in one go; that would jeopardize the mission. I don't care who you are, I don't care what gender you are, and I don't care how you feel about this: You're a soldier now. And your mission can change humanity for the better."

The Architect kicked back in his chair, putting his feet up, and cracked his knuckles, still smiling. He pulled out a large knife, and started tossing it gingerly in the air, catching it by it's handle each time it came back down. His smile was actually pretty warm, somewhat contagious, even.

"I wonder if I'll be remembered for anything?" He said, seemingly daydreaming. He then looked directly in the camera. "Probably not. Maybe you will, if you complete the tasks at hand. Find the next recorder, and follow it's instruction. Architect, out."

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The powered down tablet was in Calloway's lap. He chewed on his tongue gently, and did not blink, processing all of this new information. He wasn't exactly shocked, and it appeared that his theory of a serious disease breaking out was true, but this wasn't exactly the extent he was expecting. The other thing that got him, was the technology they were using. While his people weren't exactly lacking in technology, they didn't have teleporters, they didn't have devices that allowed them to travel between worlds. Their war must have reclaimed much of that technology.

Calloway almost wanted to keep the tablet with him, to show his people when he got home. He wondered what would happen when their religion would be completely smashed, when they would discover that their God was merely a soldier. He decided against it.

If the people want to be happy, keep them ignorant.

Knowing the truth about many things certainly made Calloway think deeply, but it didn't render him speechless. He was certainly surprised and intrigued, but he was not paralyzed or broken.

He did have many questions, like, why stained glass? Why did Architect pick the designs he made? Is it possible that Architect is somehow alive by travelling from universe to universe? What was this mysterious mission he kept mentioning?

Calloway had a lot to ponder as he walked back into Ponyville. As he thought and walked through town, he noticed that the inhabitants had returned to their lives, although they would momentarily stop and stare at Calloway as he walked through town.

Approaching the area where he had first saw Celestia, the front of what appeared to be a schoolhouse, he found Celestia, addressing different colored ponies. Calloway arrived just in time to eavesdrop slightly.

"...guest. So, please, make him feel at home. He may be here awhile. He means us no harm, and he seems very kind, so, welcome him as you would anypony else." Celestia turned around just as she had finished her sentence. " Oh, hello, Calloway." She said, smiling.

"I finished the recording-thing. You said you wanted this back?" Calloway asked, handing the tablet to her. It floated out of his hand, and back to Celestia.

"Thank you. Calloway, I would like you to meet the Elements of Harmony: Applejack."

The orange pony, with apples on her flank stepped forward.

"Howdy." She said, a hint of cautiousness in her voice.

"Fluttershy..."

The pale yellow pony with the pink mane stepped forward.

"H-Hi..." She nearly whispered.

"Pinkie Pie..."

The bright pink pony stepped forward. It was the only one who seemed to be unafraid.

"Hiya!" She shouted, genuinely excited to make a new friend.

"Rainbow Dash..."

The powder blue pony stepped forward. Her mane was the wildest of the group, being a rainbow of colors.

"Hey." She said lazily. She seemed bored. Perhaps it was her way of dealing with anxiety.

"Twilight Sparkle..."

The pale purple pony stepped forward, smiling weakly.

"Nice to meet you." She said. She seemed to be analyzing Calloway.

"And lastly, Rarity."

The white pony with the purple mane stepped forward. While all of the other ponies had looked Calloway in the eyes while being introduced to him, this one seemed to peer deep into his soul.

"Hello, darling." She said, smiling. Celestia seemed happy enough with the introductions.

"Now, Calloway, I must return to my castle in Canterlot. I will send any recordings I find to you through Twilight Sparkle. If ever you need to contact me, she's the one you need to go to. There is a house on the far side of Ponyville, near the train station, that I have arranged for you to have. It was already furnished, but my guards should be finished up delivering food and other supplies to it. I hope you enjoy your stay in my kingdom. We'll have you home the moment we can do so."

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It had been a week and two days since Calloway's arrival. Shortly after being introduced to the Elements of Harmony. He had went to this new house he was given, to discover that it was pretty cozy. Two stories, a small cellar, and two bathrooms, each with a shower. It was more than he could use, but he liked it. The cabinets were filled with plenty of food, and all other forms of supplies, from shampoo to an enormous sack of coins. Calloway was prepared to live at this house for awhile.

And he did.

The moment Calloway set foot inside of this new house, he didn't leave it. Or even open the door, or look out of the windows. He merely waited for the purple pony, Twilight, to come to his house one day with a new recording, but that moment never came.

On this new morning, Calloway wore his old, and very dirty white pants and long sleeved white shirt he wore under his armor. If his people knew his clothes were this dirty, he'd be considered a heretic.

Deciding he should at least maintain the vital parts of him clean, Calloway sat down at his dining room table, choosing to start with his prosthetic hand. He pressed in the release button on the side of his wrist, and unscrewed each of his fingers, laying them on the table. He took a small wet cloth, and cleaned out each of the sockets carefully, making sure not to damage any of the microscopic technology inside of them.

He had heard rumors from his friends that, if you didn't clean your prosthetic hand enough, the sockets would get filled with dirt, and then your hand would act erratically. He heard a story about a man going to open a door, and accidentally tearing it out of the wall, because the dirt inside of it was making it malfunction and act funny.

Calloway didn't know if that was true or not, but decided that he didn't want to find out.

As he was cleaning the socket that was his index finger port, Calloway heard a knock on his front door.

"It's unlocked, come in!" He called. Calloway suspected it was going to be Twilight with a recording, but, he was slightly disappointed. It was the white pony. The unicorn. "Hello. Rarity, is it?" Calloway asked, not looking up from his left hand.

Rarity seemed shocked, possibly even disgusted at what she was seeing.

"I-Is now a bad time?" She asked.

"Nonsense. Just doing a little maintenance." Calloway said, still not looking up. Rarity entered the house, and closed the door behind her. She walked over to the table, and spoke, albeit reluctantly.

"Well, I couldn't help but notice that, well, I haven't noticed you about town, and, well..." Rarity began to trail off, watching Calloway clean his hand. "Forgive me if I sound rude, but what is it that you're doing there, with your hand?"

Calloway finally looked up from his hand, completing his cleaning. He picked up his thumb, and began screwing it back into it's socket.

"I have to take out the individual fingers and clean the ports to keep my hand operational." He explained, screwing in his index and middle fingers.

"Operational? You mean you can control it?" She asked, seeming more intrigued than disgusted at this point.

"Naturally. I'm not sure exactly how it works, nanotechnology or something, but it's just like having a real hand. I can move it at will, as smooth as I can move my real hand. I can also feel things with it, including pain."

Calloway now had all of his fingers screwed back into his palm, and began to create a fist to ensure that everything was in order. He then twiddled his fingers, proving his dexterity with them.

"See? Completely functional. It's like it was never amputated by zealots." Calloway sighed. Rarity must have detected his sarcasm, because she quickly dropped the subject.

"Well, as I was saying, nopony has really seen you around town, and, well, I got a tad worried. I came by to check up on you, perhaps invite you to lunch so you can get out and see Ponyville." She explained. Calloway was listening, but was poking the tips of his prosthetic fingers with a pin he had found, making sure he could still feel with them.

"I'm sure you understand if I'm a tad apprehensive about doing that." He said dryly.

"I understand darling, I'm not going to make you do anything. I just thought it to be a lovely idea." Rarity replied, kicking her hoof gently at the floor in timidity.

"I apologize Rarity, but I must decline." Calloway answered, now using the pin to poke his palm. He stopped for a moment, examining the laser etched decal on his hand. It was a hammer and anvil. The Architect's symbols. Underneath, it read: "Pure once more". Calloway grimaced slightly. Rarity had yet to move from her spot, but was visibly disappointed.

"Calloway, you haven't left your house in a very long time. It's a bit worrying. You could potentially be here for awhile, shouldn't you at least become familiar with the town? Or some ponies?" She persisted.

"No. I could very well be going home in the next hour. It's all a matter of waiting."

"Darling, I hate to sound rude, but you know as well as I do that is nonsense. Come now. Would you at least allow me to go out and pick up something for us? I'll eat with you. We'll start slow, familiarize you with me, and go from there. Would that be okay?" She asked.

"Will you accept no for answer?" Calloway responded, rolling his sleeve back up his left arm, satisfied with his hand.

"I will not." Rarity responded, a grin on her face.

"Fine, fine." Calloway said, waving his prosthetic hand, shooing her off. "I'll eat anything except grass or hay or anything like that."

Rarity smiled victoriously, and left the house.

Calloway didn't mean to be difficult or rude, but this whole thing was very confusing and new to him.

He wasn't even in his own universe.

Not exactly a comforting thought.

Truth be told, Calloway did appreciate the thought that Rarity had put into him. It was nice that someone was showing care for him. He could gain a friend, and lose the newfound title of creepy hermit at the same time. He still had no intention of leaving the house, at least not for a few more days, but it was nice to carry on a conversation, even if it was banter.

Calloway kicked back in his chair, putting his feet on the table, and leaned his head back across the back of the chair, closing his eyes. His face itched, so he instinctively reached his left hand to scratch it. The cold steel of his hand surprised him, but served it's purpose. Calloway allowed himself to relax for a brief moment.

Although, in this moment, Calloway could still see The Architect, sitting just as he was right now, smiling warmly, still flipping and catching his knife.

"It's not polite to put your feet on the table." Calloway heard Rarity say. He cocked his head back up and opened his eyes.

"Ah. You return." He said, pulling his feet off of the table. Rarity was carrying two odd paper containers of something. She placed one in front of him, and one in front of herself. She took the seat directly across from him. Calloway opened his container, revealing a baked potato. He chuckled in surprise. It had what looked like shredded cheese on it, which was enough for him. "Not what I was expecting, and that's not a bad thing."

"I'm glad you're satisfied. Are you sure this isn't too much? I don't mean to intrude or be pushy. When anypony spends a week straight in their house, no matter whom it is, you check on them." Rarity explained. Calloway smiled, swallowing a bite of his potato.

"It's fine. I also apologize, I don't mean to sound rude. The whole idea of everything here is extremely foreign to me. This place is nothing like home." He responded. He noticed Rarity poking at her food with a fork she was levitating with magic. Humans did that when something was bugging them.

"Something on your mind?" He asked, putting another chunk of potato in his mouth.

"Well...it's all very odd for us too. Perhaps you'd like to talk about your home?"

"Eh. Why not?" Calloway said, putting down his fork.

Calloway and Rarity spent the next two hours discussing their homes and their differences. Calloway told Rarity all he knew, from The Purge to the current state of Metropolis, while Rarity merely offered Equestria's contrast to such things. The big difference between the two worlds seemed to be the amount of violence. During the two hours of their conversation, many people on Earth died from war, sickness, or other violence while on Equestria, a filly probably stubbed her hoof and got a lollipop to cheer her up.

While these two worlds had plenty of differences, they also had many similarities, mainly in culture. Architecture here wasn't too odd from things Calloway had seen in textbooks regarding the past of Holy Terra. The food was very similar, which was an incredible relief to him, as well. The ponies here also seemed to speak the same language as Calloway, which was a tad odd. He noticed he was unable to actually READ their language, but speaking to them was just like speaking to another human.

If this was a universe parallel to Calloway's, he still had many questions. Did humans ever exist here? Or did they fall victim to natural selection before achieving true sentience? Did ponies evolve from regular horses? Calloway had noticed a few cows grazing in a field nearby, if he were to go up to one and talk to it, would it talk back?

Calloway's thinking was broken by a curious Rarity.

"I apologize to speak of this, but, my curiosity is going through the roof. We have prosthetic appendages for those who need them here in Equestria, but none them operate as your does. You speak as if these, shall I say, augmentations, are common among your people. May I ask if my assumptions are true?" She asked. Calloway wiped his mouth with a napkin, and leaned back on the two back legs of his chair again.

"All males 18 and older have their left hand removed and replaced with this,": Calloway said, holding his left hand up and forming a fist. "Excelling soldiers or spies would receive a bionic eye. Some of the hyper elite soldiers of our people would have an arm completely amputated and replaced. I've also seen things like feet, legs, even jaws."

"And they are all operable?"

"Indeed."

"Absolutely fascinating. For what reason would your people do these things?"

"Religious practice, if you could call it that. My people worship The Architect, the grand creator of all things as we know it. To avoid being like his nemesis, The Anarchitect, my people do many things, from augmentation of themselves, to a life void of color, music and the like, they do what they feel will make them more pure. Although, I've recently discovered some...troubling news, I never really-"

Calloway was interrupted by a knock at the door. Rarity waved her hoof at him, signalling him to sit down, that she would answer it. He ignored her request, and instead began gathering all of the trash from their impromptu lunch, and throwing it away.

He heard the door close, and turned to see Rarity holding one of the tablets in her mouth. Celestia must have found the next one, and had it delivered.

He prayed that they were going to come to him in order.

It was soon after this delivery that Rarity excused herself, making Calloway promise that he would try to go out with her the following day.

Calloway sat back down at the table, and pressed the same button he had pressed on the previous tablet to begin the video.

=============================================================================

The Architect is sitting in the same chair, holding his hand over his stomach. Fresh blood trickles over his hands, and forms droplets on his knuckles. Despite this, he shows no signs of discomfort. Not yet, anyways.

"Glad to see you're still alive." The Architect says, laughing. "Just kidding. I don't think anything here in Equestria is capable of killing. Not like we're able to, anyways. Now, I'm just going to go ahead and assume that you've seen the first recorder, so, I'm going to go ahead with your instruction."

The Architect trades out the hand on his wound for his other hand, and continues talking.

"I have no idea if the Marestrom is still inhabited or not when you see this, but, you need to work your way back there. In the massive expanse outside of The Everfree, that may be a city by now for all I know, is where I first arrived. In the exact spot that I first arrived, look for a circular patch of dirt amongst the grass. I know Celestia will have kept it safe. Dig it up, and follow the instructions you find. Celestia hasn't seen that tablet. I have begged her not to watch it, and I ask that you don't tempt her. I can't let her see me that way..." The Architect nearly whispered, trailing off. He then looked up at the camera, smiling weakly.

"Besides." He said, seemingly wincing in pain. "She's going to pissed when she finds out what I've done."

As The Architect reached for the camera to end the recording, Calloway could swear he heard a bit of regret in his voice.

=============================================================================

Calloway stood up from the table, and pushed his chair in. He knew he had a shovel in his new cellar, but, he was still iffy about walking through town. The whole idea of what was happening was still iffy to him.

He looked down at the gun he brought into this world. He still had 10 rounds loaded, and he had 24 more on his armor. More than enough to kill himself, and end this nightmare.

He stared blankly at the gun for a moment, seriously considering this option.

Calloway reached for the gun, and held it firmly in his left hand, still staring at it and considering his options.

With a deep breath, he walked over to the cabinets he had in his living room, and placed the gun in the top shelf, where none of the ponies could reach it.

Not yet. Not until I'm absolutely certain... He thought.

Coming back from the cellar, Calloway had retrieved the shovel he needed. He decided he would wait until midnight, and then creep out of his house, and to the spot The Architect had requested him to go to.

Calloway chuckled to himself. He hadn't decided whether or not the thought of his "God" being nothing more than a soldier that mingled with multi colored ponies is reason enough to lose his mind yet.

But, for the sake of his people back home, he decides to hold out awhile longer.

Maybe he can go home soon.