Ambitions of The Stained Glass Knight

by Nano_Nick

Rating: mature
Tags: Adventure, Human, Romance
Length: 18348

Calloway, a young man in a radical metropolis, falls through the very stained glass mural he was supposed to protect. Arriving in Equestria, confused and alone, he seeks answers, and receives companionship.

Calloway wasn't exactly a devout follower of The Architect, but it was either worship, or death. Upon his 19th Birthday, he was assigned the duty of Sentinel, an honor for those who believed, and an annoying task for Calloway. The Metropolis, however, was in an uproar over just that: The Architect. On a stormy night, Calloway is forced through the stained glass, landing in Equestria. Calloway soon learns exactly how precious his duty exactly was.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-05-20 04:03:35 UTC

Prequel: Set Asea

It was a quiet day inside of the Metropolis. Calloway sat on his bed, reading a book authored by some forgotten human long, long ago. His window was wide open, the wind softly brushing the curtains outward, allowing the sun to pour into the room. Calloway, although not a devout follower of The Architect, adhered to his peoples customs, making his room very bland. White walls, white carpet, white curtains, white bed sheets, white clothes, and white furniture.

The entirety of Metropolis was this way. Except for the followers of the Anarchitect. Their houses were painted erratic colors, and they dressed almost as odd. Calloway didn't care much for either.

To each their own. He thought, licking his thumb, and turning the page of his book. The book was the only thing that wasn't white. It was more of an alabaster, from it's age. The book itself was about an orphan who turned out to be a wizard. Calloway smiled, thinking about the subject of the book.

Magic.

Calloway smiled even broader, and continued reading. He knew such things weren't possible, but he didn't mind using his imagination. A knock came from his bedroom door, which was open. It was more to get his attention than anything else.

"Happy Birthday, my child." It was his Mother.

"Thank you, Mother. I suppose it is time?" Calloway asked, flipping his book closed. He dogeared the page he was on to save it.

"'Tis. I do hope you'll comb your hair. The Seminary may think less of you." His Mother said with concern.

Today was a big day for Calloway. He was turning 19 years old. He, along with all of the other boys and girls turning 19, would gather at the Seminary, to determine their fates. There were no bad outcomes, really. Some would enter mandatory military service, some would become priests, others politicians. A good chunk usually became what was known as "Laborers". Those people usually were given free choice over their occupation, and were sent to specialized Seminaries to become Teachers, Doctors, Lawyers, those sorts of things.

Then there was the "Sentinel". Calloway wasn't sure what that position was, mainly because the Clerics kept it a secret, but he didn't want it. Too much religion for him.

Standing in front of the mirror, Calloway combed his hair, giving it the style he really enjoyed. It was one of the few aesthetics his people would allow him to have. His black hair was layer cut, and it wasn't long, either. Only an inch or two. He felt that it really complimented his light green eyes.

"Calloway Redmond Olympia!" His Mother called. "Are you coming or not?" Calloway smiled, gave his hair one last run with the comb, and made his way down the stairs. His mother smiled as she saw him descending. "That's much better. Father is currently at the Steel Mill, but I'm sure he'll want to hear all about the ceremony. Now, lets not dawdle. Malachy is waiting."

Calloway and his Mother chose to walk, being as the day was so beautiful. The Weathermen said there was to be no rain for quite awhile. They usually made sure it rained every Saturday morning, sometimes more if the Farmers needed it. A slight breeze gave him goosebumps, but not from being cold. The temperature was simply perfect, and it made him giddy.

Metropolis was still quiet. A few children ran about the marble sidewalks, pretending to play War. One child ran over to the other, and fake growled.

"Grr! The Anarchitect will defeat you, and bring about chaos, Architect!" He grunted. The other stood tall, and took a heroic pose.

"Never! Your silly efforts for 'workers equality' and 'equal rights' are just that: silly! Now die, usurper!" The other said. Calloway smiled, remembering his youth. He played similar games when he was younger. It was nice to see the generations after him following in his steps.

The Seminary was at the center of Architect-controlled Metropolis. Calloway and his mother were passing by a news stand, when she stopped. The Crier was approaching his soap box, preparing to shout out some headline. He stepped up, cleared his throat loudly, and began shouting.

"ATTENTION, ATTENTION! CAIA HENRIETTA, ANARCHITECT LEADER, PROMISES TO CLAIM MORE OF METROPOLIS WITHIN THE WEEK, SWEARS VIOLENCE!"

Calloway's Mother covered her mouth with her hand.

"Such nonsense! Don't these savages know what they're doing? The Architect gave us this beautiful city for a REASON, Calloway. We cannot squander his gifts!"

"Yes, Mother." Calloway droned. He didn't agree with either side, but had no choice. If the public had found out he wasn't a follower, he would be executed or sent into Anarchitect Metropolis, where he would immediately be killed, anyways. It was best to keep his mouth shut. Calloway's Mother smiled weakly.

"Well. Come now, lets not let this ruin your big day, my child. To the Seminary."

The Seminary was a large marble building, circular in construction, and surrounded by marble pillars. In front of it sat a large pool of water, very long and wide, also surrounded by pillars. Young Men and Women stood in the pool, revealing the water to be knee deep. The knelt on one knee, let their left arm sit at it's side, and had their right arm crossed across their chest: the salute to The Architect. Calloway knew what he had to do.

He waded through the pool to his spot, the one he had ever since he could remember his birthday ceremonies, between a young man named Balthazar and a young woman named Elspeth. Calloway knelt down, and saluted just as the others were. He remained in the salute for another half an hour while the others arrived, when finally, Lord Malachy addressed the group of 120 young adults.

"Servants of the great Architect! Although we struggle in our war against the FOUL Anarchitect, it is very important we carry on our ceremonies, so as to show our resolve! In His name we carry on!" Malachy cried out.

"In His name." The young adults, and Calloway, repeated.

"Now, allow us to get straight on with the proceedings! This drawing is for Military service! If your number is called, please rise, and join Warrior-Brother Isaiah, who will lead you to your barracks!"

Calloway swallowed hard, but maintained his salute. Military service was the only position where you immediately had to leave home. It also only had a 50% chance of survival.

"51...24...23...119...64...90...83....44...58...3...11...66...65...37...14." Malachy read out loud, as he drew slips of paper from a shining silver box. As numbers were called, the assigned young adult rose, silently swishing the water as they stepped out of the reflection pool. When it was apparent that all of the new recruits were with Warrior-Brother Isaiah, Malachy laughed. "Loyal followers of the almighty and all knowing Architect, please, give a round of applause for your  neophytes!"

The crowd clapped, save for Calloway and the others waiting for their fates to be decided. Malachy continued the drawing. Next were those being inducted into the Seminaries. Calloway wasn't one of them. Then were those who were to become politicians. Calloway wasn't one of them. Then the Laborers. Calloway wasn't one of them.

Calloway wasn't paying attention enough for the horror of the situation to sit upon him. He was busy thinking about the book he was reading. He was becoming anxious, wanting to go home and continue reading.

"Ladies, and Gentleman, Warriors and Builders, I give you, CALLOWAY, REDMOND, OLYMPIA! YOUR NEW SENTINEL!" Malachy shouted. Thundering applause and cheering literally shook the very water Calloway knelt in.

Calloway's blood went cold. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He stood shakily, looking around. His Mother was tearing up, proud of her son.

"In the trials of the Warrior and of the Librarian, Calloway has scored the highest! After much thinking, Calloway was unanimously voted to become the new Sentinel! Calloway, come on up here! Current Sentinel Tobiah will show you to your new home!"

New home? What? Calloway thought. He didn't want to leave his home, but he did what he was told. He climbed out the pool, and approached the marble altar Malachy was standing. He shook his hand, and pointed him to Tobiah, who was leaning against a marble pillar. As Calloway approached Tobiah, Malachy began to preach.

"Join me brothers and sisters, for prayer." He said, hanging his head.

"Shit. Let's get out of here." Tobiah whispered, signalling Calloway to follow him. As soon as they were clear of the ceremony grounds, Tobiah spoke up. "So. Calloway Olympia. Welcome, to the most boring job in the Metropolis." He said.

"Huh? But the Clerics seem to be so passionate about the position. And the public eats it up." Calloway responded, genuinely curious.

"Purely religious, my new friend. So, if you're a grand follower of the mighty Architect, then you're in luck." Tobiah then leaned in close, his hair dangling in front of his eyes. "And between you and me, I'm not that big of it, so, it's pretty miserable for me. Kinda glad you're taking my spot."

"What exactly will I be doing?"

"It's better if I show you."

Tobiah led Calloway on a silent walk through the weaving streets of Metropolis. The city was very large, and the walk took well over an hour. The funny thing about it was Tobiah had lived in the city all of his life. As had Calloway. Yet, both of them could still get lost. It was amazing what an all-white city did to it's inhabitants.

Finally, Tobiah arrived at the entrance to what was called "The Sacrament". It was a large forest of weeping willow trees. Nobody dared enter, as it was considered holy ground that only Malachy or the current Sentinel could enter. It was rumored to be the resting place of the Architect himself. Two large guard towers with a steel blockade in between them guarded the entrance to the forest. One of the patrols grew curios, pointing his rifle at Calloway.

"What business do you have with The Sacrament?" He asked.

"He's the new Sentinel." Tobiah answered. The guard immediately dropped his combat stance, and smiled.

"Excellent!" The guard turned towards the tower on the right. "Prescott! Open the gate!" He called. The blockade slid open, allowing access. "May The Architect guide you." He finished. Tobiah rolled his eyes, and continued his path, Calloway following close behind.

Tobiah led Calloway through the massive forest, which ended in a large opening. At the far end of the opening was a cave, which they entered. Finally, at the end of the cave, was a door. Tobiah stopped Calloway, his hand on the door knob.

"What's behind this door, you will defend with your life. If Malachy finds out that you're slacking off, or if the public gains notice of what we protect, you WILL be executed. Keep that in mind when I open this door. Got it?" Tobiah explained. Calloway nodded his head. Tobiah turned the door knob, and opened the door. Calloway received the shock of his life.

The door led to a large chamber inside the cave, obviously dug out in a perfect square. A small stone well sat in it's center, and torches brightly illuminated the room. However, this was obviously was not the trait of the room that stood out.

On the far end of the room, an enormous stained-glass mural seemed to replace the center of the wall. The mural depicted a man in a black coat, holding his hand out to what looked like a unicorn, which offered it's hoof.

"Who's that?" Calloway asked. Tobiah smiled.

"The Architect. It's the only known image of him."

Calloway examined the image closer. The man had blue eyes, and dirty blond hair. In his off hand, the one that wasn't being offered to the unicorn, was a hammer. Underneath of The Architect and The Unicorn, was what looked like Metropolis under The Architect, and an odd medieval style city under The Unicorn. They seemed to "merge" at what looked like The Sacrament, seeming symmetrical to one another.

"Can you explain this to me?" Calloway asked.

"What, the colors? I'm no Anarchitect, if that's what you're thinking."

"No, the image."

"Oh." Tobiah sighed. "Sadly, not even Malachy knows. He personally believes it to be a symbol for humanity being in tune with their imagination, which betters their creativity. It's the only theory we have, so, I use it."

Calloway walked over to the well, and splashed cold water on his face, listening to the fire crackle and pop from the torches in the room. After a moment, he spoke up.

"So. What exactly am I to do?" Calloway asked.

"I'll be training you. 6 Months of combat training and mental training. You're going to be guarding the only known image of these people's 'God', and with the followers of the Anarchitect causing trouble, you may need even more training than normal. Once that's finished, I'll be guarding with you. Two Sentinels exist at a time."

"We aren't left much room for failure." Calloway said. Tobiah laughed.

"If we fail, we best hope we aren't alive to experience the consequences."

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

Cherilee led her class of Fillies through the old and ruined castle. It wasn't exactly the SAFEST field trip, but it was one ripe with knowledge, one that even she could learn from. Celestia was kind enough to provide a retinue of Royal Guards, and most of the Fillies had brought a sibling or parent with them. She also made sure that they would have ample time to get out of the mighty Everfree Forest before the sun had set.

The Fillies themselves were absolutely ecstatic about the dangerous aspect. Most of them were completely ignorant to exactly how dangerous it was, but perhaps it was best that way. Cherilee led the class into the old throne room, and began teaching what she knew.

"Okay Class. Welcome, to the very first castle Her Majesty Celestia occupied as our princess! Unfortunately, I do not know it's name, nor the exact reason why it was abandoned, but, most scholars tend to agree that it was called Marestrom, and that it was left behind after Luna had been banished to the moon. Scholars believe that the pain of living in the same area, coupled with the growing population, made things generally uncomfortable for her, so she moved to Canterlot. That being said, no one knows for sure. Scholars have been wrong before."

The Fillies all looked around excitedly, examining every detail. The idea of ancient heroes and princesses fascinated them. The castle itself was even fascinating. Although it was old, it still maintained its beauty, even in ruin. Vines overtook the floors and walls, and holes in the roof let it beams of sunlight, but it was still somewhat tranquil, as if Celestia herself was just in the other room, hard at work on some form of legislature.

"Ooo! What's that?" Cherilee heard Sweetie Belle cry from the other the other room.

"Darling, do be careful. That must be very prec-oh. Oh my." Rarity said, seemingly sharing Sweetie Belle's amazement. Cherilee, legitimately curious, had to see what their fuss was about. She made sure that all of the other Fillies were with a parent or sibling, and then followed their voices. Behind the old throne was a doorway, which opened up to a large stone room. In the center of the room, was a well, but that wasn't what was causing the marvel.

At the far end of the room, was an old stained glass mural. It had a little dirt on it, but the image was quite clear. It was an image of a bipedal creature in white armor, with it's sword drawn. Behind the bipedal creature, looked to be Celestia, backing it with some kind of magic. In front of it looked to be a black Centaur, one with a look of fear on it's face, fleeing the bipedal Knight and Celestia.

"Cherilee, you have quite the head about your shoulders. Do you know anything about this mural?" Rarity asked, absolutely enthralled.

"Actually, I do know a little bit. Nopony really knows what that creature is, but they call him The Stained Glass Knight. It's theorized that, a very long time ago, he aided Celestia in driving Tirek from Equestria, and that this mural is kind of a memorial of that.

"Fascinating..." Rarity said, looking at the massive mural. "Look at the intricate armor designs, look at it's stance, so noble, so stoic..."

Sweetie Belle giggled at how deeply her sister was getting at the mural.

"It is kinda cool, huh?" She said, carrying on small talk with her sister regarding the strange creature in the mural. Cherilee smiled. Seeing people enjoy history really made her happy.

"Cherilee?" A voice behind her said. She turned, revealing a Guard had entered the room. "The sun will be setting in an hour and a half. It'll take about an hour to leave the forest safely."

"I understand. Thank you. We'll be ready in just a moment."

Cherilee got one last look at the mural, before leaving with her class.

It was funny what secrets the past could hide.

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

6 Months passed. 6 Months of wake up, practice with a sword, practice with a handgun, cardiovascular training, strength training, lunch, meditation and schooling, and bed time. Calloway was assigned a suit of armor, white with silver trim, which he was to don anytime he was in the chamber with the stained glass mural. He knew Tobiah would be lax regarding that rule, but he insisted on wearing it, anyways.

The followers of the Anarchitect had laid claim to another portion of the city, effectively splitting the city in two. The ideas of both factions greatly differed. Followers of The Architect believed in an almost pleasure free lifestyle, where the highest castes rule over the lower castes how they saw fit. They believe it preserved order. The Anarchitects believed that all were equal, and that all should work to benefit society, rather than people.

Calloway wasn't interested in such politics, especially not when it was laced with religion, but he didn't exactly stand with either side. He felt that both were right in some ways, and both were wrong in others.

One thing was certain, however. This was slowly becoming more than a simple conflict and rebellion. This was becoming a full fledged war.

A year passed. Calloway had become quite The Sentinel. It was very rainy outside of the cave, causing all of the willow trees to blow in unison with each torrent of wind. Calloway didn't know it yet, but this would be the night that his life would be forever changed.

"You hungry?" Tobiah asked. Calloway shook his head.

"No thank you. I had extra soup with my lunch today." He said, sitting at the edge of the cave, watching the rain. Tobiah shrugged.

"More for me, I guess. You about ready to head into the chamber for the night?"

"Yep." Calloway answered, coming to his feet and stretching. "You getting to sleep first tonight, or am I?"

"You can. I'm gonna eat some more, anyways."

"Sounds good to me." Calloway chuckled. "Architect knows I could use the sleep."

The two young men entered the mural chamber. Calloway sat against the wall, near the mural, and smiled sleepily. It was funny that the Clerics frowned upon color. If only they knew what their sacred treasure was. Calloway nodded off not too much later, a smile still on his face.

All in all, Calloway was a happy person. Although he never got to finish his book, he enjoyed his job. It didn't ask too much of him, nor did it ask him to bow his knees constantly. Tobiah, although a sarcastic ass sometimes, was a good mentor to have. The pay wasn't bad, the food, room and board were free, and he would practically be exalted by the time his service was up. It was a nice feeling of satisfaction Calloway enjoyed that night. It was the same feeling that would be interrupted violently.

Feeling a rock drop on his head, making his helmet ding, Calloway jumped to his feet, startled. He rapidly gazed around the room. Tobiah was gone. There was a loud booming sound in the distance, shaking the cave. Dust fell from the recesses in the roof, knocking small rocks loose. Calloways heart nearly skipped a beat with fear. He recognized the sound in the distance as the loud boom of an artillery cannon bombarding some place in Metropolis, and the smaller sounds to be gunfire. The followers of the Anarchitect were making a push. A big one.

Calloway drew his sword with his right hand, and his handgun with his left, exiting the cave as fast as he could. The rain hadn't let up, the sound of thunder had been replaced with the sound of warfare. He ran, as fast as he could, to the blockade at the front of the forest, and to his horror, saw that it had been destroyed, bodies of guards and Anarchitect followers strewn about.

Surely they aren't in the forest. I just came that way. Calloway thought. As he did, he heard the sound of glass breaking. He looked across the street from the ruined blockade. It was another guard, just thrown out of the window. He landed on his back in a burst of blood. He looked up at the Anarchitect follower stepping out of the window towards him, and laughed.

"You will always be scum in the eyes of The Architect." He said. The follower of the Anarchitect didn't howl. Snarl. Grunt. He didn't act like an animal, and attempt to brutalize the guard, like Calloway had been told they did.

"The oppressors must die." The Anarchitect Follower said. He held his rifle low, and shot the guard in the head, effectively ending his life.

Calloway didn't want to suffer the same fate, so he was left with little choice. He extended his left arm, and closed his right eye, taking aim. Just as the Anarchitect Follower looked over to him, Calloway fired, the bullet striking him in his eye. Calloway dropped his arms to his sides, breathing heavily and nervously. The gun had went from being cold steel in his hand to feeling as if it would melt. Sentinel's were assigned very old guns. Tobiah actually believed that they were more of a symbolistic thing than a weapon.

"Th-this is happening...this is really happening..." Calloway muttered to himself. He then remembered his chief duty. To protect the mural. He sheathed his sword, and holstered his handgun, turning towards the forest. Running faster than he had before, adrenaline pumping through his very being with every step, Calloway ran back towards the mural. As soon as he entered the cave, he felt a sharp pain in his right hand. He kept running, regardless.

Entering the chamber, he noticed it was empty. Everything seemed untouched. His hand really bothering him, he held it up, revealing a wound. Calloway had been shot, and had not noticed it. Someone was in the cave.

"You're really quick, kid. You know that?" A small female said, entering the chamber. 2 large men, dressed in erratic color entered the room with her.

"Caia..." Calloway said, reaching for his sword. He flinched when he felt the pressure of the hilt on his wound.

"Yours truly. Tell me, what is that you guard?" Caia asked, smiling mischievously. "Old Malachy used to try to break into this place with me when I was younger."

Calloway remained silent, instead steadying the grip of his gun in his left hand, ready to strike.

"What do you want? Why are you doing this?" Calloway asked. "Why do you serve the Anarchitect?"

"Anarchitect?" Caia asked, laughing. "Is that what they tell you? That we're evil savages? Boy, do you have any idea why the city is split?" Calloway remained silent once more. "It's because we disagreed with the Clerics. We wanted to live  our lives how we wanted to, not how they wanted us to. We wanted to pick our occupation, wear what we want, worship what we want. When we were caught expressing these desires, we were exiled."

Caia walked closer to Calloway, continuing her speech. She signaled her two brutes to remain in place.

"They sent us to the most filthy parts of the city. But as they sent more, and more of us, we gained more of the city. Then, we gained weapons. Then, political support. Then, power. Tell me boy, do you believe in the common man? Do you wish to serve good?"

Caia was now right in front of Calloway, with both of her hands on his shoulders. She was at least a foot shorter than him. She had a head of red hair and blue eyes, very beautiful for a "savage". Calloway looked her dead in the eyes.

"I choose not to become involved in your politics. I simply want to live my life."

"And you will, if you merely do us a favor."

"No."

"I wasn't asking."

"Nor was I."

Caia looked at Calloway, frowning.

"Pity." She said. She pulled him close to her, almost in what looked like a hug, before pushing him back, sending him slamming into the mural.

Calloway couldn't see exactly what was happening, as the shattering mural created a waterfall of color, but he could hear the shattering of glass before losing consciousness.

He awoke several hours later, albeit very slowly. When he finally came to his feet, he leaned against the wall, still woozy from whatever had happened. That's when Calloway examined the room. It was different. The well remained the same, but the torches were all out. There were also several holes in the roof, allowing sunlight in, which was odd being as he was in a cave. Ivy had also overtaken the room by force, climbing pillars and walls.

Calloway checked his equipment, finding his gun and sword still on his body. Caia hadn't looted him, apparently. He bumped himself off of the wall, and cautiously exited the room.

He wasn't in a cave. This was a castle. He exited around what appeared to be a throne, to reveal he was in the ruins of a castle somewhere.

Did Caia and her men bring me here after I was knocked unconscious? He thought.

Calloway made it to the gate of the castle, revealing even more shock to him: He was in the middle of a dark, expansive forest.

"Hello?" He shouted. "Hello? Anyone?"

Not hearing a response, Calloway straightened his sheath, and drew his gun. He was going on an adventure, whether he liked it or not.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Chapter One: Abeyance

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.

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

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."

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

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.

Chapter Two: Lost Anchorite

The camera wildly lept up and down, shaking violently with each footstep. It was exactly like watching a movie. Calloway wasn't sure how this was even possible, but he was watching The Architect vicariously in this recorder.

"HELLO?!" The Architect called out. "CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?!"

The Architect ran through the rain-slick streets of some extremely futuristic city. "HELLO?!" He called out again. His armor was white, with blue veins all over it that pulsed in cyan color, seemingly on sync with his heartbeat. He also wore a helmet, which was also white, with a cyan visor that covered all of his face. It distorted his voice, making it sound as if it were coming through a rebreather or radio.

Two soldiers, dressed in armor identical to The Architect, ran around the corner in front of him. Their armor was black, however, and had red veins and red visors. They shouted in some foreign language, and held their weapons up at The Architect.

"Shit." He muttered, throwing himself behind what appeared to be a car. He drew his rifle up immediately, and fired several shots.

This rifle was like none Calloway had ever seen.

The Architect grabbed what looked to be a metal bar magnetized to this back, and Calloway watched as the metal grew, flipped, and turned into an elegant rifle. It seemingly responded to his touch, sending blue veins of cyan pumping through it. The rifles muzzle flash was a bright purple, and it sounded just as strange. One of the black-armored soldiers ran forward, only to have a blood splatter violently explode from his chest. The moment he hit the ground, the other soldier's head jerked back violently, hitting the wall behind him.

More soldiers came around the wall, at least 9 or 10. As they checked the bodies of their fallen comrades, one pointed and shouted in his strange language.

"Inveniebam! Inveniebam!" He beckoned. The Architect lept to his feet, and immediately darted down the alleyway at incredible speed. He held his wrist up to his mouth, and shouted at it. Bullets flew past him, shattering windows and ricocheting off of walls.

"ARTIFICER, CARPENTER, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!?" He yelled.

"STAND BY..." A deep, metallic voice said back. After a couple more moments of running, the voice came back. "WE ARE IN POSITION. WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE US DO?" It boomed over his wrist.

With bullets and purple muzzle flashes chasing after him, The Architect was justified in his anger and fear.

"START WITH GETTING ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" He shouted back.

Just as those words left his mouth, the wall beside him exploded. The Architect took cover near the rubble, and looked on at figure coming out.

Emerging from this new hole, was a man that disturbed Calloway. He was extremely tall and muscular, but that wasn't what bothered him.

This man was seemingly half machine. Maybe even more than half.

The only skin that was visible was around his right eye, and even then, both of his eyes were glowing cyan. He wore a hood and cloak, but his metal appendages were extremely apparent. Transparent tubes traveled through his arms, pumping a cyan liquid through his body.

The golem of flesh and metal stepped forward towards the advancing black-armored soldiers, and snatched one off of the ground. He gingerly had grabbed him by his neck, and with a disturbing gentleness, seemingly broke his neck with a squeeze. He then launched the body an insane amount away from him.

"Proditor!" One of the soldiers called out, firing at this new creature.

"YOU ARE THE TRAITORS." It's voice boomed. It held both of it's hands out, pointing at the group with open palms. This machine then revealed it had another trick up it's sleeve.

As the soldiers fired at it, the cyan liquid pumping through it started to increase in frequency and intensity. After a few seconds, a blue, sticky fire erupted from it's hands, latching to the group of soldiers. The blue liquid clung to them, melting through their armor. They cried out in pain and terror, throwing themselves against walls and thrashing about the ground, hoping to end their agony.

The Architect poked his head around the wall, and shouted to the monster.

"Artificer, I've got the vaccine! I've got to get it back to Celestia, it's the only way!" The Architect called. He had a hand over his stomach, which was now bleeding freely. He had been shot. "You're coming with me, let's go!"

"NO." The golem known as The Artificer boomed. "YOU MUST GO ALONE. THE MISSION MUST NOT BE JEOPARDIZED."

"But what about you? You know as well as I what will happen!"

"LEAVE ME."

"And leave you to die? Bullshit! You may be a God damned robot, but you're still my brother! Don't pretend like you're void of emotion because you're covered in metal!"

The Artificer stalled for a moment.

"ONE LIFE DOES NOT BALANCE BILLIONS." It responded.

.....

The recording flashes back over to The Architect, now back in his seat, staring at the camera. His wound had bandages over it.

"I never told Celestia I went back for the cure. I never told her that I regularly went back and forth between worlds. In this box, is a vial. I will spare you the details, but I found out that I was far too late to cure the Earth. My only hope was to begin vaccinations.  It's important that you actually SEE what happened in these recordings, so that you can grasp the reality of our situation. As I said previously, I know this is extremely sudden, but I need you to bare with me."

The Architect shifts back in his chair, and takes his knife out, flipping it around casually. It's becoming apparent that this is his way to relieve anxiety, like biting fingernails.

"So. Let's get down to it. Something happened. Something weird. I had been travelling freely back forth from my Universe to this one, and, one time, when I went, I was 10 years in the future there. It was the exact same Universe, just the future. That is what you just saw. Once again, I will spare you the details, those can come later. Remember that vial?"

The Architect points at the exact box that Calloway is holding in his hands now.

"Uncork it, and drink it. I will not tell you what it does just yet. Also, it's probably going to taste really bad. Especially if it's been sitting for awhile. Put some sugar in it or something."

The Architect chuckles nervously. It's obvious that whatever he is having Calloway do, it's important.

"Lastly, I've hid a bunch of these recordings throughout Equestria. Ones that Celestia CAN, NOT, SEE. Please. For both of our sakes, hide them, destroy them, do what you must to make sure she doesn't view them. The ones she already has in her possession are your official instruction, while the ones I've hidden are the reasonings behind them. The hidden ones also have a few goodies to help you on your way, so, yeah. You're welcome."

"Anyways. I don't want to say too much more. The next hidden recorder will be easy for you. It's inside of a statue at the Marestrom. Don't go for it until you've received the next 'official' one from Celestia. Get moving. You've got lives to save."

The Architect chuckles again nervously, catching his knife midair, and stopping his juggling of it.

"Then again, who doesn't these days, huh? Architect, out."

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

Calloway stood in the dark field, leaning on the shovel he had brought, next to the freshly dug hole. The light from the recorder bathed him in a light blue glow, making his eyes glisten in the night, just like the stars that seemed to have no end in Equestria.

Calloway simply chewed his tongue in thought, and gazed at the ground, not blinking.

He had gotten used to the idea of some greater forces at work here. He knew that if he were to actually say these things out loud that he would be ashamed of himself, but in his mind, they made sense.

In his mind, he still felt sane.

The idea of The Architect accidently leaping through time was boggling, but, in some way Calloway couldn't explain, did make sense.

"Wait." Calloway said to himself, coming to a realization.

What if he's still alive? What if jumping ten years became jumping one hundred? A thousand?

Calloway tightened his grip up on the box, and closed his eyes in thought. Just as Calloway was going to remove the shovel from the ground, a small voice spoke up from behind him.

"Excuse me? Mr. Alien?" It said.

"HOLY SH-" Calloway yelped, stopping himself mid-curse. He swung around quickly, startled. Three fillies, who were now cowering in front of him, were the source of the voice. "Oh." Calloway said, chuckling and breathing heavily. "You scared me. I'm sorry."

The three fillies, one orange, one white, and one a pale yellow stopped their cowering. The white one spoke up.

"W-We saw the light coming from out here, and, and..." She started. She was talking about the light coming from the recorder. "...and we thought we would investigate. We are master detectives, after all..."

Calloway smiles. One of his first legitimate smiles since his arrival. The innocence of children seemed to shine across all existing Universes. Keeping his calm, and attempting to seem friendly, he dropped down to one knee, slowly.

"It's quite late, young ones. Perhaps you should investigate closer to home?" Calloway said. The orange one scoffed, showing a playful arrogance.

"We can do it! It's no fun close to home! We've already solved all of the mysteries that exist there."

The white filly staggered forward, yawning.

"Actually, I'm kinda...kinda sleepy. Let's head back."

With minor protests coming from the orange filly, the trio soon left the field Calloway was in. He felt kind of bad about making them leave. He was more concerned with them seeing or hearing the recorder than for their actual safety walking the streets of Ponyville at night.

Removing the shovel from the ground, and filling the hole he dug, Calloway also left the field. It was a little past midnight. He walked home, sticking to the shadows the way there. There weren't many ponies out at this time of night, but, those that were didn't see him.

Except for one.

As Calloway was entering the town, he heard a voice whisper to him. He had no choice but to freeze in his tracks, and leave the shadows that hugged him tight.

"Psst...hey pal. Hungry?" The voice said. It was coming from the shadows across from Calloway. He was not amused.

"I have no time for games. Show yourself." He said. The voice chuckled, and left the shadows, revealing a Gryphon. "What is your name, Gryphon?"

Was there no end to the variation of creatures that lived here?

"They call me The Butcher." It responded, grinning. Calloway still wasn't entertained. "Not for murder or anything, don't get that idea."

"Explain yourself. Before I give you leave to your shadows."

The Butcher grinned.

"You're painfully straight to the point. I like you. Simply put, I can sale you some meat. Not every creature here in Equestria is an herbivore. I know you aren't. I can tell. Interested?"

Calloway brought his left fist up to his face in thought, almost leaning his head on it. "Well, what if I give you a free sample? I can give you a pound of ground beef. Free."

Calloway sighed.

"Alright. I'll take your free sample. But if I find out that this is either illegal, or one of the ponies I've met recently, I'll kill you myself."

"I bet you will. I will add to what I said earlier: not every creature is sentient in Equestria, either. If you decide you like it, come back to this spot at this exact time. I sale to my customers here."

"But why hide it? This really had better not be illegal."

"Oh, it's not. It's simply taboo."

Taking the meat and wishing The Butcher a good evening, he returned home.

Calloway wasn't exactly sure where to store the meat he had been given. He discovered that he had an icebox in his kitchen, filled with soda, wine, and other perishables. He dug to the bottom of the box, and snugly placed the paper-wrapped meat there, putting the ice and other things back over it.

He had slept well that night.

And the next couple of nights, for that matter.

Calloway still chose to seclude himself inside of his house for the next few days. Rarity would come every single day with lunch, and talk to him, which was nice, in theory.

He was really pushing the limits of his comfort letting her stay longer and longer each day, but this was something he had to do. If he kept himself secluded, he wouldn't be doing anything but delaying the inevitable: adaptation.

Better now than later.

One particular afternoon, Rarity forced him even further from his comfort zone.

There was the usual knock at the door, as had been Rarity's habit.

"It's unlocked." Calloway called. His daily ritual remained the same as it had back home. He was currently cleaning and wiping his prosthetic hand and it's appendages. This time was a little unique, however. He noticed a button that was exposed under the plates that connect his thumb to his hand, and, when he pressed it, the mechanical hand burst open, revealing all of the intricate pieces.

It looked almost like someone had opened a hand held fan that was made of metal. There were wires that ran all about his hand, along with his transparent plastic veins that pumped blood even into his prosthetic.

"That's new..." He said to himself as Rarity and her guest walked in. Normally, he would look up and greet Rarity as he had become accustomed to doing, but this new discovery had him entranced. He smiled, and chuckled a little, not taking his eyes off of his hand. "You'll never believe this, Rares."

Rarity blushed, and put a hoof to her cheek.

"He, uh...I might allow him to call me that." She said. "What did you discover, darling?"

Calloway smiled largely, still looking at his hand. Rarity had quickly become one of his good friends in Equestria. He was convinced that she was faking it in the beginning, but it's now completely apparent that they had grown closer, and actually had come to enjoy each other's presence. They had their first dinner together the day prior. She had brought him a large salad with another baked potato, and a flavor of soda that he didn't have stocked in his home. He really enjoyed it.

"There was this little button hidden under the plates that connect my thumb to my palm, and, when I pressed it," Calloway held his stretched and expanded hand out to Rarity, still smiling. He then noticed her guest, the pony known as Twilight Sparkle. He kept his smile on.

Any friend of Rarity's couldn't be that bad of a pony.

Rarity stepped forward, placing the bag of food on the table. She walked over to Calloway, and closely examined his hand.

"Curious." She said, closing her left eye and using her right to examine it. "I wonder what it's for..." She thought outloud. "Perhaps to better clean it? Or to perform maintenance?"

"Makes enough sense, huh?" Calloway smiled. He pressed the button, and watched as his hand jumped back together in a blink of an eye. Twilight Sparkle flinched at this action, but Rarity simply went about it as if it were normal. It comforted Calloway to see her act so calm around him, and even take an interest in him. "So, you must be Twilight Sparkle. Quite the student, from what I hear."

The purple pony stepped forward, smiling uneasily.

"Well, uh, I'm just a curious pony, is all." She muttered. Calloway kicked his feet back up on the table, and began rolling his fingers back into his palm, screwing them tightly in place.

"Just as modest as you are intelligent. What brings you here today?" He asked. Each time he would screw a finger into his hand, he would flex it about, to make sure he had it correctly attached.

"Rarity invited me. I hope it's okay. I had a few questions for you." She said timidly. Calloway shook his head while digging in the bag for his container of food. Rarity noticed he had trouble doing it with one hand, so she dug it out, and handed it to him. He patted her on the head to thank her, and continued screwing his fingers in.

"Sure. I've got nothing to hide."

Twilight Sparkle asked questions that he had already explained to Rarity, so recalling his answers wasn't very hard. Twilight was being visibly uncertain and anxious around him, so he would smile or try to laugh where appropriate to calm her down. Calloway was very far away from being what he would call comfortable in Equestria, but, he wasn't exactly panic stricken, either. He was growing more and more content with each passing day. Her last question threw him off, a bit.

"I've brought you another recorder. May I watch it with you?" She asked. This was the first time Calloway stuttered and hesitated during his little interview. The Architect DID state that these recorders were ones that Celestia kept, so she had definitely watched them. He also said that he didn't leave her any with violence or anything that would lower her opinion of him, so, Calloway came to the conclusion that it would be okay for her to watch them, as well.

"Sure." He smiled. He grabbed the recorder off of the table she had placed down, and pointed at Rarity, signalling her to come to him. "You too. I know you wanna see this." Rarity hopped down from her chair, and walked over to Calloway's side. With Rarity on his right, and Twilight on his left, He pressed the button on the tablet to begin the recording.

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

The recorder started off in the exact same room the other ones had been in, with the chair empty. Then, all of the sudden, The Architect burst into the room, and threw his hands on the table, looking terrified.

"QUICKLY! GET TO THE TELEPORTER, YOU MUST HELP COMBAT THE ANGELS OF DEATH!" He shouted. After a few seconds, his grave expression quickly flipped to a sly smile and a laugh. "Actually, I'm just messing with you. This job's no fun if you take it seriously all of the time. Anyways..."

The Architect sat down in his chair, kicked his feet up,  cracked his knuckles, unsheathed his knife, and began tossing it gingerly, as he always did in these recordings. He seemed to be in high spirits in this recording, as his knife flipping was fast, and he was tossing it very high compared to the other recorders.

"I may have accidentally made your job easier today, so, ya know. You're welcome. Anyways, that vial I left for you? You're probably going to want to drink that soon. You'll need it."

The knife he was flipping flew too high, and struck the roof, sticking inside of it with a loud clang.

"What the Hell was that?" Called a voice down the hallway.

"Nothing!" The Architect called back, using his hands to create a makeshift megaphone. He then laughed. "In all seriousness, I'm very happy with this change of events. Very happy. This doesn't change the seriousness of your mission, but it certainly makes it a little less dire."

"Seriously, what the Hell did you do? Did you break something?" The voice called again. The Architect chuckled again.

"Better wrap this up. Big dinner tonight with the councilmen. Drink the vial. That's what this recorder was for."

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

"Certainly a lighthearted being, don't you think?" Rarity asked, smiling. Calloway remembered The Architect running down the alleyway, getting shot at and shouting obscenities. He remembers the look on his face when he had to leave The Artificer behind. When he had to admit that no cure was possible. Calloway feigned a smile.

"Yep. He seems very nice. It's a shame I couldn't meet him."

Twilight Sparkle was wide eyed, and taking notes on a pen and pad that Calloway didn't notice her bring in. She appeared deep in thought.

"Calloway, I'm gonna go home. I've got a lot to study. A lot." Twilight said, still scribbling. "If I have any questions, may I come back here?"

"Absolutely."

Twilight collected her things, including her untouched lunch, using magic, and left the house. Calloway noticed Rarity was resting her head on his shoulder, looking intently at the image left on the recorder at it's conclusion: The Architect smiling like a fool, his white teeth contrasting his tan complexion. He appeared to be wearing some kind of skin tight suit under his armor, as a black, rubbery-type of material covered his neck from the chin down. It was like a super long collar.

Rarity was still resting her head on his shoulder. Calloway smiled, enjoying this physical contact. It was similar to a hug, in this aspect.

Everyone, no matter who they may be, rich or poor, powerful or weak, intelligent or ignorant, needs a hug every once in awhile.

Calloway was about due.

Rarity noticed her actions, and quickly jerked her head up, blushing.

"Sorry, darling."

"Not a problem. My shoulder was cold, anyways."

Rarity and Calloway both finished their lunch just as they had the previous days, with playful banter and gossip. It was a conversation always filled with laughter and smiles.

Calloway had an interesting attachment to Rarity. She was essentially his only friend in this land. She treated him not like the alien he was, and like a pony. A pony that she respected and considered a close friend. It was his primary comfort in Equestria.

He respected her. For this reason, he listened to her wishes of him.

"Calloway, darling..." She started.

"I already know what you're gonna ask. And I just don-"

"Please darling, hear me out." She interrupted. "You're a great human. You're very nice, very interesting, and you have a strong sense of morality. You have the makings of a good pony. While Ponyville will indeed stare at you for awhile, They'll come to love your presence. Just as I have. Please?"

Calloway rested his prosthetic thumb on the bottom of his chin and the knuckle of his prosthetic index finger on top of it, obviously considering the options.

"Please?" Rarity repeated. "Pleeeeeeeeease?"

Calloway cocked his head back with a sigh, and then settled his head back down with a smile.

"Fiiiine." He said. Rarity leapt from her chair, and rushed to him, giving him a quick hug by leaning against him and wrapping her forehooves around him. "Yeah, yeah. Happiness and stuff." She released him just as quickly, and began throwing away the trash from lunch.

Rarity left soon after that, saying that she had preparations to make.

Calloway also was making preparations.

That night, he snuck out once again, out of Ponyville, and through The Everfree. He heard it was dangerous at night, so he had brought his handgun and his sword, but he had no trouble making it back to The Marestrom. The correct statue was a little tricky to find. While it certainly would have been easy to just smash all of them and find the recorder, he decided against it. It seemed rude and brutish.

After about an hour of searching, he found a statue that had the same symbol he had on his prosthetic. The hammer and anvil. Calloway brought his prosthetic hand up to the statue, and waved it across the emblem. He was familiar with doors that opened this way back home.

The mouth of the statue slowly opened, revealing a box similar to the one he dug up in the fields outside of The Everfree forest. This box was incredibly heavy. Deciding against opening it in the corpse of The Marestrom, Calloway returned home.

He locked his door, and closed his curtains, ensuring no interruption. Although it was late at night, one could never be too careful.

Opening the box revealed two metal bars. One was larger than the other, easily three times as large as the other. They were both silver, and they shined brightly in the light of Calloway's kitchen. He picked them up, feeling how dense they were. It didn't make much sense for these bars to be so heavy, but, he ignored logic for the time being. Nothing about this made sense, anyway, so why would it start now?

Calloway picked the recorder up, and pressed the button to begin playing it.

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

The Architect sat in his chair, a stern expression on his face. He was smoking, too.

"Look," He said, removing the cigarette from his mouth. "I don't mean to keep flipping emotions every time I record a new message for you, but it's happening. You need to know something important. This base right here? Empty. Completely empty."

Upon closer examination of the room, Calloway could see holes in the roof and in the walls. It had been abandoned for some time.

"I don't understand what's happening. I think my device is malfunctioning. I keep leaping through time every time I return here. I go back to Equestria, and I was only missing for minutes or hours. I come here, and it's been years. What's even more odd, is it seems as if there is no pattern. I keep popping up whenever HE makes a move. I don't believe in anything divine, but, there has to be something more powerful forcing these things to occur. I can swear I heard whispering when I came back here..."

The Architect stared blankly, in thought.

"Whoever is listening to this...I am currently 500 years into the future here. That's what my device says. And I haven't aged a day quicker. This entire city is empty. I don't think any friendly forces exist anymore. I don't think humanity exists anymore. At least not here in Tokyo. We administered the vaccination to as many civilians as we could. This was one of the three cities that still stood..."

The Architect wasn't flipping his knife. He was obviously very upset.

"I'm going to search the other two. I know HE has to be around here somewhere. There was an incident in Equestria that prompted me to come back here. Long story short, drink that God damned vial I gave you, then pick up one of the things I left you. I'm sure if you ask Celestia, she'll tell you what happened. Anyways..."

The Architect didn't smile like he normally did. He only looked gravely at the camera, putting the cigarette between his lips once more.

"If I keep this up, I might actually be meeting you here soon." He said, half mumbling because of the cigarette.

He looked down at his feet, reaching his hand up to end the recording.

"I pray it doesn't come to that."

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

Calloway went to the box he had dug up, which he kept upstairs in his room, and removed the vial. It was about as long as his index finger, and was filled with a cyan liquid.

It was glowing.

When he uncorked the vial, the liquid inside seemed to be humming. That made Calloway even more hesitant to actually drink it's contents.

With a deep breath and a prayer to any listening deity, Calloway threw his head back, and quickly swallowed all of the liquid in one swig.

"Gah!" He shouted. His throat immediately began to burn. His mouth burned. His entire body started to burn. His vision was growing extremely blurry, and he began stumbling about his house. Calloway looked at his arms, and to his horror, discovered that his blood veins, even in his prosthetic hand, were all glowing an extremely bright cyan. His hands began convulsing and twitching violently. It was as if his fingers were trying to break themselves.

Calloway ripped the shirt off of his body, and stumbled over to the mirror.

Every artery in his body, every blood vein, was now pulsing from his skin in it's new cyan glow.

Calloway then watched as the tiny veins in is eyes started to glow. His mint green irises bled over with the cyan glow, like a cyan fire to a mint green field.

He balled his fists up, and slammed them both into the nightstand which supported the mirror. When he tried to stumble backward, he tripped over a chair, and slammed his head against the floor, losing consciousness.

...

When he came to, Calloway immediately jumped to his feet, and rushed to the mirror once more.

He looked fine.

Calloway fixed the things he had thrown about the house in his reverie, and threw away the things he had broken.

He rushed downstairs to the previous box, the one with the metal bars, and prepared himself. He picked up the small bar, and watched what happened intently.

His veins in his right hand, the one he picked the bar up with, started to glow cyan. The bar responded by also glowing cyan. When he picked it up, it began to shift and change rapidly. Within moments, the bar had become an elegant, sleek handgun that Calloway had seen The Architect wield.

"This makes absolutely no sense..." Calloway muttered, closely examining his new gun. He put it down, and watched as it flipped and folded back into it's complex, heavy bar that was no longer than the distance between the tip of his index finger to the base of his palm. He then picked up the larger bar, the one that was about the size of his forearm. Metal sheets burst from it's sides, and completely enveloped his right arm.

His right arm soon became a wicked-looking curved blade, like the tip of a long scythe. His veins were glowing cyan again, and this new arm was no exception. The arm had several transparent tubes running through it, with glowing cyan liquid pumping through it. The sharp end of the blade was dripping with this blue liquid, and when the drops hit the ground, they would immediately melt through the wood.

"Gettin' real sick and tired of cyan..." Calloway muttered. He walked over to the mirror again, examining is figure. All of his veins were glowing once again, and his eyes had also traded their light emerald color for a neon blue, once again. "Hmm..."

Calloway grabbed the other bar, the handgun, in his left hand. It transformed, and when it did, both of the weapons seemed to glow slightly brighter. Synergy between the two, perhaps?

Examining his new figure, Calloway scoffed.

"Am I even human anymore?"

He released the gun, and pressed the only button on the blade, which made it release his arm. He then picked up both of the bars, and carried them back to the case. It appeared as if the bars recognized when they were wanted to be weapons, or bars.

Why would The Architect leave these for him?

What the Hell was in that vial he consumed? What did it do to him?

What happened that made him decide this was appropriate?

Calloway noticed a sheet of paper in the box as he was returning the bars. He unfolded it, and read it's contents.

ARCHITECT - A - A - AL

CARPENTER - A - A - ?

MASON - A - A - ?

EZEKIEL - void - void - AL

ARTIFICER - A - KIA - void

POTTER - A - KIA - void

FOREMAN - A - A - MIA

ENGINEER - A - A - MIA

SURVEYOR - A - A - MIA

LAZARUS - EXEMPT

ISAAC - A - MIA - void

SEAMSTRESS - A - KIA - void

There were more names, but all of the others immediately said "KIA", or, they were made illegible from time and decay. This must have been an impromptu dossier thrown together by The Architect for some purpose in the near future.

Then there were four names, written in red ink, all with big X's over them:

IRAM - KIA - 2985

MOEROR - KIA - 2985

LUX - KIA - 2997

PUTRESCET - KIA- 2998

And finally, there was one name, written larger than the others, still in red ink, with many circles drawn around it. It read:

EXTIUS - AL

"Exitus?" Calloway muttered to himself. Deciding that he had enough of the recorders and all of the new information that was being fed to him, he put the box with the weapons up next to his old gun, and changed clothes. Rarity was kind enough to supply him with simple pairs of blue jeans and white t-shirts.

Calloway made the decision there and then that he really needed a break. He actually began to look forward to his coming excursion with Rarity. Granted, he'll be uncomfortable for a little while, but, all of this talk of disease and war was tiring him.

Still, the thought of The Architect, wandering through time and space itself, intrigued him. Maybe The Architect lived on the same Earth he did, just hidden away in the wastelands surrounding the cities. Perhaps there was more to this mystery he had yet to uncover.

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

"Preliminary systems coming online now..." A feminine voice said.

"Luxury systems online. At full operational capacity." She continued.

"Regime forces detected. I don't think they see us." Another voice called out. It sounded like a deeper feminine voice.

Times were extremely rough. You either died in the Insurgency, were brainwashed in what little of civilization was left, or served the Regime.

The Insurgency was only about 15,000 men and women strong.

The Regime was still several million strong after several thousand years.

"Are we set?" A male voice asked.

"Yep yep!" She responded enthusiastically. "You'll be going through any moment now!"

"Thank you, Ezekiel. I may not be back for some time." The male responded.

"Sorry boss, but, how long will it take you to arrive, ya know...there?" She asked.

"For me, it will be in the blink of an eye. In real time, I will arrive in several months. I am unsure of how many years it will be before I come back. Perhaps thousands.

"So, what, do we just hold the fort down for a few months, then resume as planned?"

"You always were a smart one. I trust you. Best of luck to you all."

Ezekiel flipped switches on a large holographic circuit board, and pressed a red button on the side of the terminal. The chamber at the center of the room exploded with a flash of light, and the figure, the male, was gone.

Ezekiel held her wrist up to her mouth, and pressed a button on it with her tongue, in a playful manner.

"Carpenter, it's Zeke. He's on his way back to retrieve the key."

After a few moments of silence, a voice came back over her wrist.

"God help us."

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

Changed into his fresh clothes, and with a quick check in the mirror to confirm his eye color had returned to normal, Calloway hurried down the staircase to his house. The moment his foot hit the final step, he heard the knock of a hoof on the door,

"Darling? It's me! I do hope you're ready!" Rarity's muffled voice called,

"Coming!" He called back. He ran over to the sack of money in his kitchen, and grabbed several handfuls of the little gold colored coins. As he was grabbing the coins, Calloway stopped and stared at the bag.

"Why do I keep this out in the open?" He thought outloud.

Leaving the coins where they sat, he dashed over to the door, and opened it.

"Darling! I do hope you're hungry. We're going to visit some friends of mine today." Rarity exclaimed. She seemed excited.

"Friends, huh?" Calloway responded while closing and locking his door behind him. "What're they like?"

"Well, the first one you'll meet is certainly an EXCITED individual..."

"Huh?"

"You'll see soon enough, darling. Shall we head out?"  Rarity asked, tilting her head to the street. Calloway sighed, but maintained a smile.

"Guess so. Let's roll."