Get in the way
October 18, 2024 at 9:30 AM
Disciples of the Ministry!
Behold, I stand before you
In the Name of the One True God,
Who was cast out of Heaven, but now lives.
In me.
Jeremiah Pillipov, «Disciples of the Watch»
— Your Majesty, we found him. Almost by accident. — Where? — Chrysalis looked at the shifter carefully. — In Irvind. — That's where the... — Yes. The Six. — Where... — In the hospital. Pretty serious burns. Infiltrators report that the creature just suddenly burst into flames. They put out whatever got under their feet. — Tvoyu princessu za nogu! Won't these find him? The ones with the magic sparkles and the brains askew? — Oddly enough, there is a trauma department in the local psychiatric hospital. The creature is there now. And no, Your Majesty, they won't. Maybe in some other hospital they would have searched... did anyone come in, suddenly by chance someone saw... — It's not strange about the madhouse. Psychos are often crippled, — Chrysalis thought. — But it can happen. The same Pinkie Pie will go around the hospital with a hook for three miles, where they will not wait for her. The changeling queen walked in circles, as if imitating the run around the hospital by the insane Pinkamina Diana Pie. — Has the creature come to its senses? — There is no information yet, Your Majesty. — Let's also do without «majesties». I won't wean you off in any way. By the way, is there any information that the Six left in Irvind? Sometimes they go to Badlands, then suddenly they break out of Canterlot into a city where, if not for the trade route by sea, the Princesses would not even know their names. — My Queen, — Changeling began «without majesties», received an approving nod and continued, — There is information that the Princesses have requested an airship. Almost simultaneously, the Legion is preparing an armored cannon train. Both alicorn toys were already supposed to leave Canterlot for the south, but the train did not arrive in Foaledo. And in Irvine so far, too. And the airship is hanging out somewhere. As my queen knows, neither vehicle reached Klugetown. — I don't know about the «bubble», but the train definitely won't pass. You see, the road is not finished there, — Chrysalis began cheerfully, and ended maliciously and mockingly. — The looting of the tracks of Stalliongrad ended just when they forgot how to make their rails cheaply, but there was not enough stolen goods. — And... — And the locomotive magnates want a good profit, — Explained queen of shifters. — This can be achieved by reducing production costs or the price of the product. If the rails are expensive, then the Crown buys a little bit. Result? Roads are not built. If you make rails cheap, you don't get the profits you want. If you don't pay the pony workers... Either they'll run away, or the Sisters will start a surprise inspection of the factories for compliance with Equestria's laws. It's easier not to do something that's unprofitable. Result? Roads aren't being built again. — Are there really no ponies who can make rails and sleepers cheaply? — There is one somewhere. But they have already been removed from factories, reducing costs. By the way, can you guess where some of these ponies are now? — I see. But then where can an armored train and an airship get stuck? — I don't know. But for some reason, I didn't get the summary from Hunters. — I'm sorry, Queen. There is nothing, because there were no agents there either. — Did I not understand? — Y-y-your order, Queen, — The speaker was startled. — Only more or less large cities and important places like Ponyville. And be careful. Chrysalis nodded. Yes. Carefully. Don't draw attention to yourself. — It's not much of a town, — The shifter explained, — And the inhabitants, judging by the name... — Yeah, the mining of all sorts of interesting things almost in the arimaspi lands... Stop! — What, my queen? — Arimaspi! There were arimaspi back then, weren't there? When Stalliongrad prevented something really bad? — A flying ship? Yes, Queen. We were still... — Not yet, — The conditional changeling queen grinned. We mostly still spoke only Equestrian, not as we do now. We only dared to kill those who considered ponies solely a type of food. I was afraid of losing not even my people, but my species, starting essentially something between a rebellion and a civil war. And I was just a changeling queen at the time. A rebellious queen, oddly enough. And now? Oh, yes! Now I'm counselor Sworm. And I stand with my people against the world. My multitudinous and already multispecies people. And there will come a time when I must dare to stand up to Celestia and her apprentice in the open. Not like that amateur act at Cadence's wedding, but for real. — All right! — Chrysalis has gotten all tightened up. — See if you can send someone to Hunters. Quietly, of course.***
Chrysalis pondered until evening, when she was informed that a cannonade could be heard in Irvind. The black alicorn climbed out of the bathtub (what is a bathtub in the desert worth, need explain?), shook herself off and dried herself with magic. She didn't want to dry herself. She walked out of the bathroom. The window in the apartment was almost a full wall. Darkened glass, elegant, though simple and shallow binding. She called the resident on duty in the next room with magic. Night Spirit walked in. — Listen, rush to this «quiet» Spark, let him ask the house if it is possible to send a «swallow». From the old hive or from the main base, — Chrysalis spoke calmly and in a businesslike manner, while she was angry: «BOT |5^AΔCTBO! At home, I would just answer the phone and I would tell you who to connect with». — Yes, my Queen, but I must remind you that it is very far away. A thousand miles. The «Swallow» will fly, but how much cargo will it take? — Spirit wasted no time and got acquainted with the capabilities of the aircraft. — It will come again! — Chrysalis replied angrily, realizing that the quiet surveillance of the Princesses was canceled. — If this is what I think it is, they will have to fly here many times! You know, Queen of the Hole Ponies, what the swallows are carrying. You've seen the fire spreading across the ground. You've seen steel arrows going deep into the ground, filled with explosives stronger than gunpowder, but weaker than that crazy triple-nitrogenized stuff that's in almost every ointment. Ponies are soaked in some kind of dry mud with that tartar stuff and try to use it faster than this thing «sweats» with droplets of death. It would seem that here's an indirect indication that Stalliongraders are being talked about in Equestria. But the «swallows»... Oh, those tiny white silhouettes high in the sky! — Who needs to be mixed with dung, my queen? — All of them, — Chrysalis muttered and explained in earnest. — The arimaspi forest should be thinned. See the direction of the seasonal winds and arrange fireworks for them on Hearth Day. New Year's Eve, new beginnings... let the goats run. If I'm right, then flying ships don't go well with the traditional amusements of these one-eyed ones. — As my Queen says. But why help the Equestrian Crown? — It will be over sooner. Or vice versa, it will attract all the forces of the Sisters. And we'll quietly get to the hospital and get our new friend out. — I see. Are you sure he's our friend? What if he doesn't want to be friends? — Won't he want to? Well, well... remember Paw. I didn't want to either. What helped you make friends with her? — Kindness? — No. And certainly not magic. It can only occur to our Twilight that it is enough to rewrite the contents of someone's head with magic, and he will immediately make friends with terrible force. — What then? — As usual: a minimum of obsession, a bit of respect, willingness to help. Involvement in any creative work. — I've never fully understood even ponies... let alone aliens... Is this stranger so important? — I suppose so. Perhaps no less than Paw itself. — But she is... — Not all of them. She can't give us everything she wants. You know. I know. All our ponies know. And Paw herself knows. — I'll find out about the swallow. And one more question, my queen. — Yes? — Why such a name? Paw? — A nickname. Her name is Anna Lapina.***
— Our Sister! — Luna was frowning uncomprehendingly. — Truly, the ponies who created this flying ship showed their mistresses great skill and worthy of reward, but is it appropriate for the strongest of magicians to command now from the heights those who repeatedly turn cold iron into hot potion with fire? — Lu, it's impossible for a modern pony to understand you the first time! — Celestia peered into the fading day from the observation deck of the airship. It was easy to breathe, since the ship was impenetrably closed and updated the air with special crystal artifacts, taking all new portions instead of those coming out through the valves. Perhaps in a hundred years, ponies will learn how to do such things cheaply, and air pressure regulation will appear on many airships, although it is not particularly needed at an altitude of one and a half to two miles. It was also quite warm: the chimneys from the furnaces heated the gas in the cylinders. — I'm trying, but... — But do you resent why we condescendingly look after the adjustment of the cannon fire of your armored personnel? — Celestia smiled meekly, but that meekness would have scared some griffin feudal lord into paralysis. — Instead of rushing into battle and bringing down all the magical power of the alicorns on the heads of the wicked? — Exactly! — Luna, little sister, — Celestia turned around, — What do you know about arimaspi magic? — Nothing, except that their magic is wild, primitive and performed by the most disgusting rituals! Celestia sighed. The sun, already beginning to set, piercing the glass of the observation deck with a scarlet-gold light, changed the entire palette of colors and turned the situation into something unreal and precious. — Not too long ago, one arimaspi came for a certain thing. He actually came, took it and left. And the whole Guard, the whole Night Guard... in short, no one could stop him at all. — Now we are ready! — Luna said dully. — Ready, — The Day Princess nodded. — And what is happening now is realizing our readiness. Are they not stopped by our magic? They will stop the guns aimed by ordinary ponies! By the way, wasn't it your idea with this Legion? — But it was possible to solve everything... — No, — Celestia shook her head. — As I said, recently I tried to solve a problem with Elements of Harmony. Do you remember our conversation about Badlands? And the Elements didn't work then. It's a good thing they at least respond to the call of the Keepers. The very fillies that I had to treat with a variety of methods, starting with alchemical and ending with my own magic, from... — From what? — Luna asked, tensing up. — From the like that... Look down. Towards Hunters. There, conveniently located on a rail loop used to service some trains and pass others, the armored train of the Night Princess transformed some elements of the landscape into others. No survivors have been found among the local ponies yet. More precisely... no. It couldn't be considered alive. — Aren't we too high? — Luna nodded at the crimson flames of the forest fires that had begun. — No. It's dangerous below, — Celestia frowned. — It will be extremely unpleasant if our communication goes bad or the levitation crystals break apart altogether. Believe me, this has happened under similar circumstances. — Why did you bring the keepers with you at all? If you're afraid they won't make it? — We'll need them later, when we figure this out. And in the same Irvind or somewhere else, the ponies will remember that they seemed to have relatives in Hunters. So, it's better if they don't remember. I can't explain it all! — Celestia's voice faltered. — You'll need new Keepers, — Luna said tonelessly, spreading her wings and folding them again. How she shook herself off from something disgusting. Celestia didn't answer. She knew they would be needed if the Elements didn't refuse to work at all. How to explain to the Truth the huge lie being created? How to explain to Kindness that it is necessary to erase the memory of those who have just lived in the vilest way for reasons of internal politics and for the peace of mind of ponies? What can I say to Laughter? That this is all a big hoax? And Loyalty, perhaps, will not be doubted. She doesn't know how to do it at all. And loyalty to their conventional ones and loyalty to some unknown and alien earthly ponies, mudslingers... they are different, these loyalties. What will Generosity think? What's the difference? Aristocrats are allowed to think different things, unlike actions. And Magic will accept any decision of its former mentor anyway.***
— Right after dawn, when the sun responds to the call, I'll start cooking what I haven't taught Twilight yet. And closer to noon, I will strike if they don't calm down, — Celestia read the transcript brought to her in the form of a paper-leaky report. The night flooded everything with a deep dark blue, only in the cabins of the princesses, magical lamps flooded the situation with a trembling and seemingly living light. The princesses were staying with Celestia. Actually, Luna insisted that her sister rest, but the Solar Princess still could not calm down. The orange light was coming from outside, from the burning edge of the forest, from what had been the houses and barns of the town of Hunters. The flames of the fires stood out well against the almost black background of the earth's surface and harmonized with the blue-purple sky. Harmony... — What kind of magic does Our sister want to show? — Luna asked calmly and somewhat tensely. — There is one intricate thing that is available to other unicorns in a very familiar, albeit complex form. — Magic fire? Bringing down the sun's flame through the portal? — Neither one nor the other. For the first one, we need to go lower with the possibility of falling under the magic-stripping effect, and for the second, — Celestia shook her head, — I haven't gone crazy yet. Even a small fraction of that fire can melt stone, and it's not just that. — What's the point? — Poisonous light and the same poisonous wind from a gas saturated with ethereal magic. For the most part, a stream of water element is bursting out of the portal, but there is something else. — That rare gas that slowly evaporates even through sealed glass? — Not only that. Some kind of strange radiant fluid that causes alchemical transmutations. No one knows what it is. It poisons almost everything it falls on. — And what did you decide to arrange for our opponents, if the most effective thing causes you to be stunned? — When I open the portal to the sun's edge, I'll lose my magic for a week, — Celestia said. — And when you consider that you can only open a portal near yourself... No way. So I'll make it simple: a lens. — What? A usual lens? — Not the usual one. You know, it's hard to create and hold an aerial lens that's several miles in size. So, such a lens cannot be called usual. I think arimaspi will be impressed. By the way, do they even sleep sometimes? Maybe you can look into their dreams? What do they need? Why did they turn a pony into such a thing? I have a feeling that everything that is happening is a big mistake. — They don't have dreams in the usual sense. But they seem to be daydreaming. And for one-eyed ones, we are a big mistake. Ponies are disgusting to these creatures. And they absolutely hate alicorns, — Luna shuddered, as if she remembered something. — Go on, Our sister, for you should give yourself up to rest! Celestia wanted to make a sad joke that she hadn't given herself to anyone for a long time, but the day was exhausting. And the night.***
The whole merry-go-round with the horses continued for another day. Then suddenly, at night, the forest was illuminated by strange gaps. It was like an improperly triggered firework: heavy sparks igniting both branches and a layer of forest litter, incandescent dense smoke, dull rolling blows, as from a thunderstorm. No one knew what Arimaspi was getting from the disturbing (rather, calming the gunners themselves) fire. Magic? It doesn't look like it. In the morning there was a lull. The legionaries who had disembarked from the wagons looked around nervously. Few had gotten much sleep, which was just as bad. — Cover team, take your positions! Stormtroopers, fall in! — Yes, Lieutenant! You got it, Lieutenant! Move it, limpkins! Ponies in legionary armor stood up on their hind legs, clutching rifles dangling from their necks. Slowly and laboriously, a wide armored door slid aside, and a ramp that turned on the gate hinges crashed to the ground. Holding on, the burly earth ponies rolled down the carriage with a grapeshot. Finally, they got some things sorted out. The stormtroopers (everyone from earth ponies to festrals) broke into teams, and the unicorns cast their first search spells. An army always starts moving leisurely, with delays, angry swearing, and merry messes. Pegasi revolver drums clicked into place. They soared into the morning sky. The sergeants were once again «pumped» by their officers about immediate departure at noon if a magical signal was given. Swearing, including cursing the Princesses, someone blew his nose without the aid of a handkerchief or any limbs at all... Someone's gun fell off, which caused a flurry of colorful turns from the pony sergeant and a promise to shove the rascal to guard the new latrine he had just installed himself, with full fucking equipment, including all the proper spiders on the ceiling and re-glued manure papers from the door. They moved. Ridiculously and crookedly at first, then they remembered the training and the mush. Infantry turned in double and triple chains, storm troopers built «turtles» of shields and hid along the walls. They kicked down doors and jumped inside, shouting the proper thing. Then a shot rumbled. And another. Everyone froze for a split second, including the pegasi in the air. They fidgeted, their ammunition rattled. One of the chains snapped on the mounts. Another fired. Orders in the form of a shout, a roll call. — Sergeant, what is it? — Hmm... Looks like it was a pony a while back, — The festral with the scar across his cheek and a once-split eyelid poked at an incomprehensible stinking thing staring at nothing with a bunch of small dead eyes from a single deformed eye socket. The crooked, unformed horn was broken, and the hind legs and one «wing» were missing. Was it blown off by the explosion? Nevertheless, the creature survived the close burst of the shell and lived long enough to not only crawl away into the skewed house with the glass flying out of the windows, but also to wheeze out of the dark corner that collapsed outside. Bullets had cut short an unholy life. But it's a... pony, isn't it? — It seems to be all over the place here, — One of the legionnaires said quietly. — Stop talking! — The sergeant gave his subordinates a hard look. — At least every step of the way! Have you forgotten what our Mistress has called us to do? — To guard the borders of Equestria, sergeant! — Replied the ponies in a unison. — To protect the peace of the simple ponies and to deal with what magic itself cannot! — But where's the border? — Someone added. The sergeant didn't yell, though he wanted to. He was scared, too. It was his first time. Griffins? No way! Yaks and minotaurs? No big deal, like moose with all sorts of vitrangs. But this... — All right, stallions and mares, I'll tell you, — The festral looked once more at the ineligible freak. — This is the inner border. Arimaspi territory. These creatures are magical, but their magic is... You see for yourself. So we search for the living until we get the signal. Then we leave, and fast. Celestia will burn this place down, and our Mistress will help her. And for the sake of the Sisters and all of Equestria, let's get together. Huh? All those «Yes, sergeant!» and «Will do, sergeant» gave a little confidence. Outside, the scouts flew by. Two pegasi. The ground troops stopped huddling along the walls, spread out, bickering, figuring out where to stand and who to cover. The pegasi took long leaps to the roofs of crevice houses, sometimes knocking wooden laths and tiles off the roofs with their hufas when landing, taking positions behind the stove chimneys. A couple of times they fell into the attic. Here they didn't paint houses in bright colors, they used brown paint or impregnated wood with some homemade stain made of «heads» and «tails» of moonshine, the same paint, stolen creosote and something else. Farther into the woods it smelled of burning. Sheds were often turned into a pile of splinters, something burned or still burning. In some places, torn-out walls exposed the inner garbage of rooms, all those skewed cabinets, broken glass from windows, mirrors and dishes, rags of wallpaper and signs of hasty assembly. As it turned out, though, no one had seen the fugitives yet.***
— Your Highnesses! — The pegasus and the festral said in sync, which is interesting and somewhat unusual, since one dislikes the other mutually. — We hear you, warriors! — If in normal circumstances Luna used standard conversational Equestrian with a touch of literary, then in war... that was it. War, after all. The festral, or rather festral woman, glanced over to the pegasus. She muttered: «Let's turn around». On the unrolled cloth lay something. A bent, twisted piece of something bottle-like made of ductile iron, ending in feathery flames of sheet iron. It was quite a bottle. — Where'd you find it? — The Night Princess wasted no time in even trying to appear friendly. — The woods, Your Highness. Half a mile beyond the undergrowth. Plenty of blood. Almost on the crowns, — The pegasus shuddered. — You? — Luna turned to the festralca, nodding to a pegasus of a deep ash colour with a mane and tail lead-coloured with orange streaks. The marks were hidden by the shape. — The trees are riddled with shrapnel. Like sergeant Small Thundercloud said, lots of dried blood. Strong smell of something... Well, besides gunpowder stench, — The festralka whimpered and added uncertainly. — Mistress... — Speak up, — Luna allowed. — It's like someone hasn't brushed their teeth in a year.***
— Fuck your princesses! — Chrysalis was rushing around the apartment in joyful fear. — How many cars did they send? — My queen, — Night Spirit, who had returned on her hind limbs with a tray in her front limbs (changeling magic is specific and not so strong in these things, unlike a unicorn, to carry a whole set of metal with her telekinesis), placed the tray on the table and, lowering herself on four legs, explained. — There were only three «swallows». They also sent a «manta». — Is that from her? - It's only just been tested, right? No, my queen. The «manta» was carrying excess fuel. Well, a long hose with a parachute comes down, a pony on a «swallow» goes up, straps on, catches the thing, and puts the tip in the neck... — It's only just been tested, right? — Yes, my queen. When we set out on our journey, it was still being tested. At least that's what Night Scope and Silent Spark told me. And if I understand correctly, the stuff that came off the «swallows» was just being tested, too. — Well, not quite, — Chrysalis said quietly, but she didn't explain, and ignored Spirit's surprised look. — All right, — The shifter queen sat down at the table, — Let's see how things develop. What about our future mate? — There have been no new messages. Still being kept in a medicated slumber. — That's too bad. I'll have to visit this creature sometime, in case I can do something with magic. Though I highly doubt it. Chrysalis fidgeted in her chair and stretched out her front legs to Spirit, who quickly wiped the royal hoofs with a damp cloth. And her own at the same time. The former queen of the changeling and current near-ruler of a multitude of diverse people didn't need any additional service at the table. But neither did she discourage various expressions of appreciation and respect. Does the shifter feel like he's sampling her majesty's food for poisons? Let him. The Queen, on the other hand, was just happy to share a meal with someone. Generating an emotional background. Table manners? Well, why shouldn't an alicorn be wooed? There's not a lot of them around. — Spirit, child, — Chrysalis smirked at the dazed Night Spirit, — Firstly, don't forget about yourself, it's a bit much for me here alone, and secondly... — Hm? — Spirit, with some lettuce leaf in her mouth, didn't know whether to listen silently or apologise. — How can I get to Irvind without being seen?***
— Arimaspi, Your Highness! — The pegasus was scary to look at. — Show me the way! — Celestia spread her wings. «Lu, wake up, please», — The Solar Princess sent out a mental call, escorting the fleeing pegasus with her gaze and teleporting outside. A decadently beautiful winter day in these parts was ruined by the smoke of a forest fire. Celestia had tested the lens yesterday, drawing an uneven streak of scorched to ash-turned earth across the miles of forest surrounding the mountains. Pegasus was not surprised to hear a sound like wind whistling and a huge membrane vibrating. The princess appeared with a flash of teleportation, illuminating the areas of the airship's side that were not in the sunlight. She spread her wings. Pegasus was once again surprised to feel the inherent magic of flying ponies. No more than his own. It felt as if her highness could fly without magic at all. Not well and not very far, but she could! The pony took off in a nice gentle spiral downwards, trying to calculate that at the right place there was only a little turn of wings and a couple of flaps, reducing the horizontal speed. The princess was thinking about something of her own, almost touching the upper part of the wing base with the swirling trace of the pegasus. Depending on the turn and the required roll, she shifted and changed her wing. «How does she know?» — Thought the winged pony. But in two thousand, or however many years she's been around, you never know. And you'll learn all the tricks. Or not? Celestia, according to rumors, was not very good at the jaw-dropping mathematics of flight. Like all pegasi. They say unicorns were better at it. Or even earth ponies. But that's rubbish! Mudbug?! No such thing. They can't do anything but carry weights and their arithmetic, so they make up nonsense! They've got a pegasus wing that isn't the best shape, they can turn the high poetry of flight into a cipher, or there are spots in the sun! How does Celestia put up with the last one? Celestia simply didn't notice the host's distress. She was gliding behind the pegasus. Big, beautiful, kind, and incredibly dangerous if you pissed her off. If the danger from Luna was obvious and elastic, like a night wind from the darkness where inclement weather is interspersed with lurking and prowling predators, Celestia ruined the life of the unwanted with the smooth irresistibility of seasonal changes and the naturalness of the unfortunate's very fate. Not like her apprentice with her hemispheres reversed. She raped reality itself with magic. Her Lowness Twilight Sparkle didn't know and couldn't because of her innate limitations. Pegasus thought with sweet horror that the new princess had not only left-right hemispheres switched from birth, but also front-back hemispheres. Immediately he felt a slight interest in his person on the part of the guided alicorn. «She won't even need a gun to make extra holes in my arse with magic». He nearly snapped out of his glide and flapped his wings. But they landed well. The pegasus gave out a «gallop, trot, stride» transition, so as not to raise dust for the princess coming from behind with beating wings, and Celestia herself simply opened her white-patterned sails with stiff leaf-blades of fly feathers (they say, she could cut candles in a candlestick in half, pull off the edge of an envelope, or even slit an enemy's throat) and under the imperceptible ringing of magic stopped herself in the air. Not even landing on her feet, but as if she'd stepped off air steps. Collected, but a little out of this world, as if seeing something beyond the reach of mere ponies. Beautiful, wise, and infinitely powerful. Yea, yea! And kind and strong, naturally, as griffins say... But you know, my friend, that the report about strange celestial creatures or ships got stuck on the way up? Because to report about such things... «Your Highnesses! We hereby inform you that your role as goddesses, so to speak, has gone to shit!» — Where is he? — Celestia folded her wings lazily. — Follow me, your highness, — The scarred fester bowed. — We accidentally stumbled upon... He fell silent, clearly wanting to ask something. — Yes? — The Solar Princess gave her whole look of permission to ask the question, but the batpony was embarrassed, and Celestia asked herself for him. - Why am I without my sister? — Don't think about it, your... — I called Luna, but she doesn't really want to wake up after a night of vigil. However, we can call again. No? The festral shook his head. The sleepless Mistress was scary and inventive in anger. — Select those who deserve to be present, — Celestia coldly asked, but in fact ordered. — And find someone from the officers so that everything is as it should be.***
He was probably dying. However, nothing could be said with certainty about these creatures. Arimaspi's front left paw was missing, and instead something was moving around a fresh but almost non-bleeding wound. Some kind of appendages or... Celestia took a disgusted step back and with a short burst of magic burned the fallen thing. A tentacle? A parasite? Or is it already a symbiotic organism? The Princess did not know what to turn herself into in order to decide on such a close, intimate «union» with worms, and did not want to know. The caked stinking holes in the body of the one-eyed goat screamed that the creature had bloody muck inside instead of organs. Still, such wounds were not living. The gold rings glittered dimly, mottled with hideous engravings. The other front paw was tied to the lower ones tied together. And a thick blindfold so that he wouldn't take it off. And he didn't look. Arimaspi was doing something with magic by his mere presence, but Celestia, who almost messed up with the simplest spell for alicorn, coped. With this sorcery, she destroyed countless papers and parchment, burning secret, compromising or simply dangerous documents, from personal correspondence to secret reports. That's why she did it. Experience. But she could have screwed up. — What happened to my ponies here? — Celestia knew that arimaspi could hear her. What had happened to the arimaspi was clear to her. — They have changed to be able to greet the Elders,’ the black goat-like creature wheezed. — You will all change. Sooner or later. Everyone who will still be alive. — Changed? How so? — Their appearance became pleasing to the Overlords. They have rid themselves of the superfluous in order to be able to grant change to others. — What did they get rid of, arimaspi? — Celestia spoke softly, but the ponies trembled. — From your unwanted souls. From his weak appearance. They were given something that would have led them to the immortality of a Corpse, but you stupid ponies, you destroyed your own relatives! — The goat burst out laughing and immediately waved in pain. — But it's all in vain! The Elders are already coming! You can't stop them! — Then why did you do all this if the arrival of your Elders is inevitable? — Stupid ruler of stupid ponies! The Elders can wait for millions of years, but they will not tolerate a minute's delay if the time has come! Everything had to go like a tide, like... — Like the plague, — The Princess guessed in horror. — But why? — The elders want to get their own back. Something that was lost once. — Lost?! — Celestia inhaled briefly and angrily, though the stench was still there. — Reality itself was spewing them out! I saw the remains of the transformed and something else! Dry bones! There's no name for it, no place for it in the world! It didn't even have any sane form! — Do you, who has touched the power of the Corpse, speak of a place in the worlds? And refer to some kind of reality? Reality is determined by the Elders. And everything will be according to their dreams, which you take as your, — Arimaspi mockingly emphasised it in a vomiting voice, — Thoughts! And your supposed sister, what does she play with the shadows of the Elders' thoughts? Does she really think they are the dreams of your... ponies? Arimaspi's speech became less and less intelligible. Something stirred in his stomach. It was as if the goat was pregnant with something creepy and alien. The air crackled with broken glass. Celestia screamed, but the legionnaires had already roughly picked up the Princess and pushed her away from the abomination. — I've fucked up such meetings with diarchs, — The burly earth pony said with a single phrase from beneath the filtered rubber mask he wore. He bounced awkwardly, adjusting the viscously gurgling copper tank at his side and pointing at what had recently been an arimaspi, the hollowed-out barrel of a shotgun attached to a hose at the very end. An unpleasant hissing jet showered the carcass of the one-eyed foul thing. Instantly, the rag over the blurred and failing eye sprang open, and the bonds snapped. Arimaspi thrashed for a second or two in agony, silent and fearful. Then the liquid reluctantly burst into flames. — Stand back, all of you! — Screamed the festral. — Don't inhale! And keep her highness away! — I must! — Celestia spat out the words. — I must see and know what we're dealing with! They silently shoved a rubber mask at her. They looked displeased and helped to put it on, confusing for a second the entire ephemeral mane of the alicorn and speaking out about the interfering horn. Rainbow magic dripped from the Princess. Like a bloody sweat. But it was getting easier and easier. Arimaspi was burning. Then Celestia, taking off her mask and giving it to someone, looked around with her pure cold gaze of the supreme being standing around the legionnaires and said: — In the name of Equestria, I order everyone to keep quiet about what is happening. I hope for your understanding. I think my sister will confirm this order today. The ponies silently stood at attention. A slightly uneven sound from stomping feet, guns pressed against hoof's chest.***
— That was before you came back, — Celestia looked nowhere in particular, — I dealt with that Stalliongrad relatively gently... Well, as it seemed to me at the time... — Those who betrayed their mistress deserve the most severe punishment! — Luna was either indignant or wanted to cheer up her sister. — They didn't betray. They just didn't come to me. We didn't even live on the outskirts, but in general, where I basically didn't plan to do anything. Wastelands. The dank forests are even worse than between Canterlot and the Crystal Empire. And I was offended that they were like this... — Did you let resentment prevail? — More like fear. They were getting somewhere. You know? — The Solar Princess didn't even turn her head. — Without me. Without the princess. Without the alicorn. Everything that makes up both the seasoned wisdom of the ages and all the arrangements of grey antiquity was crumbling... And all the philosophy that explains the fairness of Equestria's structure... Also... — Were you afraid your ponies would want to leave? — Leave? Where to? To a place where there is almost no magic? Where is the elegant craftsmanship of the unicorn forced to be replaced by a childish machinery? Almost no one has left since the Unification of the lands. No, I was afraid... I don't know. Its possible uselessness? — Did it not frighten you, Our sister, — Luna knew how to be cruel in her shrewdness, — That the earth ponies, so long despised by horned and winged ones, could set up a kingdom more intelligent and stronger than in the lands where the immortal alicorns rule? And then they'd remind you of it all? — And this. I've already had an example of being unforgiven by batpony. Until now... — They had a reason, — Luna replied muffled and turned away. — I wanted to protect my little ponies! — You did it. At the cost of the other ponies' lives, — Luna couldn't see, but she felt Celestia flinch. — But that's the ruler's share. — That's the ruler's share, — Celestia repeated. — And then there was some kind of strangeness with magic. Actually, that's where it started... Tirek, Discord... the Wendigos are still these. And worms... — And the emergence of the Crystal Empire, — Luna nodded to herself. — And today I realized what was supposed to happen then. — I saw the remains. — Lu, it's not just that certain ponies died. We still don't and can't make it everywhere... I wasn't ready then. I didn't have you and your Legion. And armoured trains. And airships like this. We even managed to lose to the griffins. They regularly ambushed us, plundered our lands... Can you imagine, those fucking chicken-headed cats were planning a sea raid on Mainhattan! Well, they were planning... But still! That's beyond brazen. But back to arimaspi. There was a weird magical outburst in the Badlands or something. And something similar broke through there. Just painfully similar. And arimaspi. Honestly, Equestria was supposed to be a land of unimaginable filth and misery by all accounts, but those ponies... — What have these unworthy ones done? — These unworthies saved us. They sent an experimental flying steamer ship. A whole battleship. I still have no idea how or where they got all those crystals... The ship travelled over Canter Creek, then along the Tract... They killed all those... shapes, — Celestia involuntarily looked down, as if she could see through the deck of the airship (actually, she could, but not quite see). — And some others. And got hit by disembodied non-magic from... the Other Side. — Is that what you sent the Keepers for? To find it? — That, too. I wanted to seal the potential breach with the Elements and find the ship. So you could have a new toy. Luna didn't buy it. She had a knack for picking out what was important in thoughts and words. A thousand years of conditions for such training doesn't just go away. — Did you already know about the ship? — I had a hunch. Those Stalliongradians are terrible at keeping things secret. — You bought their rulers. With what, by the way? — Money and the ability to spend it on luxuries. And the opportunity to have servants. They really wanted servants. It wasn't that it was forbidden, it just wouldn't work for them. The peculiarities of their inferior state. And not one of those who agreed asked for health and longevity... — What about the common citizen? — A matter of trusting the printed word. And the general gullibility of the ponies. We've given them a new truth, and they're passionately tearing their own country apart trying to become successful, rich and beautiful. Just like the Equestrians. — You infected their minds. Infected them with what is the hallmark of every unscrupulous pony. And they've lost their conscience, their sense of honour and their respect for work. I see. And so, your unwanted state is already agonising, and the last of those who remained loyal to their sick country are saving your «successful, rich and beautiful»? — The night princess was now also looking at some point outside of space that she alone knew. — Sacrificing an unprecedented ship and themselves to keep the filth from getting out of Badlands? And all they had to do was to do nothing, so that all of Equestria... But they stood against the unbearable filth, like warriors of ancient times against monsters... — I... I wanted to protect... Celestia burst into tears. Luna sighed. And called the Night Guards. — Bring here what was seized from the Hunters' cellars and barns! — All of it? — The festrals looked at the weeping Solar Princess with horror. They had seized a lot. — Three bottles from different places. Delivered quickly enough, Luna was still contemplating whether or not to start getting angry at the slowness of the delivery. The alicorn's horn rang. And a couple more times. — This is an obscenity to take down the crew for technical needs, — Luna telekinesis sent back one bottle that didn't pass the magical test, — So that the machinery may be kept clean and the fire in the furnaces may be lit quickly and efficiently! And to the food approved by Us, simple and spicy food! And two glasses! — What? — Celestia was nearly speechless. She even stopped sobbing. — Come on, let's heal our souls, not our bodies. And in memory of those who haven't forgotten. — Remembered? Forgotten what? — Of duty. About ancient customs. About how it's done, — Luna cocked an ear at the distinctive crystal sound as the Guard who had come in with the festrals went through the wine glasses in Celestia's mini-bar, trying to calculate the degree of similarity between the glassware and the glass. — I've been struggling here for years and centuries, and she... Amazing cheekiness! — Celestia nodded approvingly at the horrified Guard, who took it personally. — Tia... You're fighting right, — Luna telekinesis picked up the cylindrical crystal glasses from the stallion and pulled them towards her. — You just have to know when to stop fighting. Come here, I've already poured.***
I woke up with pain and a sickening pain in my eyes. Everything hurt. And don't move. I barely managed to squint my watery eyes at my nose. Fuck. I'm still here. I was expected to wake up anywhere from a capsule to a psych ward, but home. In my own world. Yeah, I ran away... He touched the palate with his parched tongue. I don't understand anything about those Koloboks. A look at the ceiling. I see ripples, but there is no ephemeral environment. However, the day is outside the window. Birds, the screams of some psychos. I feel sick. I tried to look around. It turns out that I was tied to metal tubes along the bunk. It was not tightly wound, but very much and often. I twitched. Expectedly twisted with pain. Some stains on the sheet covering me. The bunk rattled. At the sound, a monotonous, pale straw-colored earth pony in a dressing gown ran onto her bare ass and fussed, wailing something like an endless «please, please». She's kind of scared. The remnants of fierce «parishes» with incomprehensible suicidal moods were tossing around in my head. It's a dream! I would have crossed myself, but my hands are tied. Well, I don't believe in anything yet. Except, perhaps, in the sudden gratuitous vileness of others. I tried to say something, but I couldn't. My throat is a desert. I don't feel thirsty. Drugs? While I was thinking and squinting as the pony, having treated its front hooves with something and jumping up to me on its hind legs, deftly pulled out of my hand a needle at the end of an orange rubber tube stretching from an overturned bottle with uneven walls and remnants of transparent solution, I missed another pony. Also in a dressing gown, but in a slip-on. Pegasus. The wings are visible under the fabric of the overalls. The colour of the fur is a fake green with a yellowish tinge. And this pegasus ain't fucking natural. I squeezed my eyes shut. That's right, it's a mark in my eye. Like a pony light bulb. I grinned hoarsely. — No, no, don't worry! — Fusses the earth pony, who's the nurse. — Fuck you! — I wheeze in Russian and jerk my left paw-hand sharply. I rip off the barely healed skin and, hissing in pain, try to tear the bandage I was tied with with a blunt claw on my thumb. Bitch, she's got «don't worry» on her! I'd better make it before they run to the bound man. If I don't run away, I'll end up straight... ...Here! I started to remember something. These bitches were drugging me and trying to ask me something. Apparently, they took breaks, and the pain from the burns took its toll. Then they seduced me with «dope» again. Opiates? In general, «gloomy Gerych»? A bloody shroud of rage altered perception. Details became distinct and sparse. The changeling realised something and dashed out of the chamber with a slip of the tongue. Run, run... My paw came free. I pulled the sheet off. I hit some tubes going to my genitals. Oh, yeah, the mare's kids are gonna castrate me, or my hormones are getting in the way. No, guys, you're the ones who are bothering me. By existing! Bitch, at least kill one! The «nurse» tried to hold me back, but she got scared of my «smile». Predator response? I don't know how I managed to twist the «sausage» with one hand. Burned. Squirrel dog hand. But I whipped that fucking staggering Dr. Mengele's assistant in the face, buying me a few more seconds. I tore the bandages off my other arm. It looked like he'd damaged a claw. Stomping in the corridor, shouting. I was stopped by an intricate and very emotional mate in my native language. It was the kind of thing that makes the phrase quite short, but the whitewash still peels off the ceiling. Of those «masterpieces» that make nervous young ladies faint, cats roll their eyes and clutch their heads with their paws, and chickens fall on their sides. It's... I can't even reproduce it. Something senseless and horrible in its stupidity and impossible even for some stillborn mutants with intracranial vaginismus. A tall, blue-and-white unicorn pony, whose clearly undersized dressing gown was hanging open and sleeves dangling as this filly didn't even try to fit into it (wise), huffed and stared at me angrily. I only realised after a couple of seconds that the wool pattern was «floating» on the border with the fabric. I closed and opened my eyes. I stared at the visitor and sharply shifted my gaze to the side...***
Pony winced, sighed, and flashed green. The tongues of this «flame» gave neither reflections nor new shadows. But the flame licked off the disguise at the moment, leaving black. — Shall we talk? — Chrysalis asked. She was angry. Very. — Ohhh... Kha... — Give him some water. The earth pony in the robe shook her head in denial and bulged her eyes. — What if... — You didn't give him a drink? — The Queen's «metallic» voice is calm, but something has changed in her gaze. — Intravenously, — The nurse whispered, fighting the weakness in her limbs. — We were afraid... he might try... — He won't, — Chrysalis decided for Belkin. — And we'll just talk. And I think we might even be able to untie someone. Later. Pony ran away and came back with a paper cup. — P-please! — The glass shakes finely, engulfed in a hoof. The pony already knows that hoof kinesis may be lost in the patient's proximity. But the «stickiness» of the pattern on the grasping surface does not disappear. Belkin drank, wondering if he could choke to death with so much liquid if he inhaled sharply. Because of the fucking drugs, there's no hope of a reflex cardiac arrest. Pony guessed something and put the glass away. The look is hunted and tired to the point of despair. And this filly is frankly afraid of a burnt squirrel dog. — Do you realise why you're here? — Chrysalis looks on with tired disgust. — Because various errors of nature like to bind creatures of another species, — Belkin swallowed hard, — Stuff them with addictive drugs and enjoy the torment of others. — And it didn't occur to you that they just wanted to help you? — The overgrown changeling speaks with ill-concealed sarcasm, and the nurse shakes slightly. — You should have left me where you found me. Let me die quietly. Tears spurted from the pony's eyes. — He's at it again! — Shhh. — Chrysalis lit the horn for a moment, grimaced, looked at the tied patient badly, lit the horn again and turned the nurse to herself. — Okay, look at my ear! Uh-huh... is that it? The pony nurse sighed convulsively. The changeling queen whispered something to the pony and escorted her out the door with some sort of errand. A squelch? A grunt? A punishment? The word was translated but not adapted. — Now, you bastard, let's get serious! — You're a bad actress, — Belkin stretched his lips, which were dry and cracking inhumanly, in a smirk. — Now you'll go on to threats... Actually, it's enough just to wait, the shit will come out of such like you for sure. All the essence of a mimicking parasite. — Shut up! — Did someone just want to talk... or was it only a monologue planned? — You... — It's unpleasant, isn't it? The victim should scream in fear and pain, but she suddenly hurts herself... Did you have an orgasm? — You! — It was clear that the repeating black-holed alicorn was barely holding back. — Oh! I get it! It's hard for you to eat my emotions, isn't it? It doesn't taste right! — The squirrel dog chuckled hoarsely. — But what emotions can there be when looking at the likes of you? What can one feel when observing a huge lump of parasitic worms? And even in the form of a pony? Chrysalis didn't hold back. She jumped up and struck, twitching at the last moment and blurring the blow. — It didn't work, — The squirrel dog wheezed and spat blood sideways onto the bunk. — And it could have been over. The black winged-horned pony stared in horror at the burned man, who had just begun to be covered with new fur on the burns, but still with the skin of the shefango. In some places, the brown crust has not peeled off. This monster jerked towards the impact. Chrysalis at first thought it was the dog's reaction to grab an approaching object with its mouth, but... he wanted to put the temporal bone under attack. He suspected that the alicorns were very strong, and... The nurse, who had come in at the noise, stared at Chrysalis, who was sitting on the floor. She was nervously biting the hoofs of her forelimbs. — Why? — Chrysalis muttered. — You can't do that! Ne nado tak! Ne nado! — Were you swearing? — Belkin asked in Russian and swallowed the blood that had gathered in his mouth. — There, behind the door? — Oh... I didn't think... It's so used to ponies not understanding... You don't make it bad for yourself! All right? I'll tell them to take it away, — She points at the remnants of the bandages with her eyes, — Just promise me you'll do it soon, that... — Let's do it in Equestrian... — Please... Don't hurt yourself, — Chrysalis might be pretending, but Valentine was tired of recognising lies. — Don't do it again... Fast Solis can't look after you anymore... She just can't. — Does she know that you shifters slit the wrists of captured ponies and watch them bleed to death? There must be some kind of special emotion there... — No! No!!! — The black alicorn is shaking. — Let's end this whole thing. Let the nurse go, — Belkin almost released his other paw-arm. Imperceptibly, he thought. — Where did you hear that? Who? Who said that? — I saw them. And I killed them. Shot them with exploding bullets. And I felt nothing but the recoil! You still want to untie me? — Fast, dear, untie the jerk, — Chrysalis cried quietly. Then she lit the horn. The escaped changeling appeared, looked at the queen for a second and took off his disguise. — Let the money be prepared. The hero was found. Fast Solis, gawking her huge eyes in fright, freed her upper limbs, thoughtfully looking at the squirrel dog's groin. — Excuse me, please, this is going to hurt a little bit. I have to remove the catheter. It was painful. And nasty from the realisation of his own helplessness. The pony quickly untied Belkin's legs and ran off with the «fucking tube» and the jar of cloudy piss. — Apologise to her, — Chrysalis said, looking at the door where the pony had disappeared. — Apologise to her for everything you've done. — And what have I done? — The squirrel dog hissed and tried to sit up. His eyes were dark with pain, he tore the dried crust on one of the burns again... He sat up, spitefully. He had expected to faint, but the adrenaline spurt helped him. His heart was pounding hard. — Wait, — Chrysalis conjured something, not painkillers, but ice. It fucking hurt too, but it was a different kind of pain. New and cold. A good one. — So why should I... — She was on the verge... She wanted to take sleeping pills. She was writing a note to her family. They found it in the wastepaper basket. Good thing I got here in time, — Chrysalis shook her head. — As soon as you woke up, you never went a day without a new idea... — Don't tell me I tried to force her to have sex. And she has a natural aversion to all sorts of upright creatures. The changeling queen snorted. — The first time you looked at the drip, but you didn't touch the needle in the vein. You pulled the tube out of the bottle and took a breath of air to... — Embolism? Unreliable. I'd look like a cucumber instead of just... — You, such a bastard, knew better... Barely held the three of them, according to Fast. Then you somehow untied yourself, fell to the floor and crawled to the locker, — Chrysalis involuntarily looked at the discolored spot on the floor where this locker apparently lived. — You planted the glass right with your paw and picked out a piece more comfortably. — And? — There we go again. You should have a scar at the base of your paw. — An artery? It could have been. Wouldn't have saved you. How could they have done it in time? — This pony has a calling. A special talent. But you... — Chrysalis, listen, — Belkin sighed. — Well, here you have a burning creature who is silent and trying to kill himself. Maybe you don't need to save him? — You didn't keep quiet. I mean, you were quiet at first. And then... You tried to talk her into helping you die. You insisted on some kind of pleasure she should feel watching you die. You seduced her with fear. — What??? — She should have trusted you. Bring the lancet, step back and turn away. You asked her if she had the courage to leave an armed predator by the tail. — Naturally, she disagreed. — Naturally, she ran to vomit after you said «as soon as you hear a gurgling wheeze, you can turn round»! — The queen of the changelings shook again. — Do you think it's pleasant for me to listen to all this and carefully remove such emotions afterwards?! — I didn't know. I don't remember anything. — He didn't know... By the way, what's your name? — Belkin. — That's a weird name. — It's a family name. Well, it's a common family name. It's just that «Valentine» sounds complicated for a pony. — Have you ever met any ponies that were lazy and stupid? — I've met some two-faced ponies, prone to deceit even in the smallest things. And they all wanted me to get hurt or die. They expect it, and they get very upset when it doesn't work. Only here you were up to something else. Worse than death. — It's nothing like that. You're just sick in the head. — Chrysalis... I need to die. You can do whatever you want with the corpse, if it doesn't burn. — Valentin Belkin, — Chrysalis sipped the name. — If you're thinking of coming back, I'll disappoint and rejoice you. You're already back. I can, with your permission, go through your memory. Don't worry, I won't see anything, I'll just make you remember. You have to ask questions and get answers... — What do you mean? — I've seen your kind. — Yob tvoyu. — That's what you'll say if you see yourself, which I doubt. Kak-to tak. — From where? — Stalliongradian? We live there now. — In the midst of resentment, depression and the fading hope of if not recovering everything, at least escaping to Equestria? Not hungry? — Not hungry! — Chrysalis replied angrily. — When you don't have to take on the guise of someone else, to hide, to be accepted as you are, it's not hungry! — Odd choice. — Not at all. Alicorns tend to rise to the heights of power. And there... — You think you'll be welcomed as queen of Stalliongrad? — No way! I don't even want to be chairman of the High Council. — What about power? — As a good acquaintance of mine, whom I am afraid of, says: «I shall exalt them as myself, and through that I shall be exalted many times over, I shall be likened to a deity». — You can't make everyone an alicorn, — Belkin touched his cheekbone and lip. — Or is there a way? — There is. And it would be better if there wasn't, — Chrysalis shuddered again. — Put your paws away. The glow of the uneven horn again. It was as if the middle part had been shifted a little. Valentine looked closely. — A normal changeling horn, — A wave of magic came from the black guessing holecorn at the same time as the words, painfully and fizzingly passing over the squirrel dog's cheekbone. — Paws! Don't touch it until I'm done. And don't joke about the horn. I'm sick of it. — A lot of jokers? — There's a cartoonist in every fucking newspaper! Usually a stallion. I wonder what he's got so crooked that he's putting a bolt bracket on my forehead like that, blya! Bitch, I'll find it sometime! He'll have all his legs shaped like that! And his neck! — Good luck. But why do you need me? — I told you, it's a matter of power! New opportunities. — I am an anarchist under any regime... I understand the need for state institutions, but my hatred of them is not going anywhere. All states are potential concentration camps for prisoners before extermination. — It's good that you think so. It means you don't like politics. I just need to tempt you with something interesting. I can fix your head. — What kind of business? I'm a computer programmer. That doesn't mean anything to you, though. — You make it mean something to all of us, — Chrysalis grinned wickedly. — All our ponies. And not our ponies.***
— Fast Solis? Watching. Belkin is wearing a crookedly tailored pony jumpsuit. The old one burned down. The one that was a «backpack» was no longer good, only as a model for modifying pony clothes. Valentine did not ask how the rag was taken out of the hotel. And pistols. The pistols and the knife were missing. Chrysalis was silent. — Yes? Is something bothering you? — An earth pony with a bad cutie mark in the form of a poppy head looks scared. But at least without this mixture of horror and fatigue. — Chrysalis demanded that I apologise to you. I don't remember anything. Did I hurt you? Did I threaten you? — No, you didn't threaten me, — The pony's voice is colourless. — And as for harm... — I'm sure I didn't try to seriously injure you? — No. You pushed me away, knocked me down... A couple of times you gave me a very nasty paw in the eye. — Will you forgive me? Pony suddenly cried. There was no one in the courtyard of the asylum. A little snow was falling quietly. Squirrel dog sat on a bench and didn't know what to do. — If just another crazy person had taken your place. — So what happened? — It's nothing special... It's just that because of you I don't see kindness in ponies anymore. I see meanness, I see cruelty, I see goodness through a dirty, crooked glass. How could you hate us so much that you'd want to die for the mere fact of knowing us? You... I don't know... You even hate yourselves! — Do you have a family? — I do, — The pony started to cry. — There you go! Are they bad ponies? Solis shook her head. No, they were good ponies, and she loved them. — How come you're treating shifters? And on the grounds of a madhouse? — Belkin decided to distract the pony. — My stallion is half changeling. — Half? — Pegasus of dark colour, wings narrow and long, can take on a slightly different appearance, hiding the Mark, the look of the wings and the structure of the eyes. No horns, no sorcery. So, accordingly, can't get love. It can take away emotions a little if it's near, but that's about it. — That's strange. I've seen others... My name is Valentine Belkin! — The queen explained to me about the money for your treatment. She was angry with you, so she thought that... You know, — The pony changed the subject a little, — When I explained to my stallion, you know, about your reward... Oh... He was very upset. He said that Her Majesty should have paid from her own resources, if she had allowed that... He also said some bad words about the various... uebany? — Don't do that to your stallion. And wipe away your tears. It's cold, — The squirrel dog shivered. — How long have I been here? — Decent. The twelfth of frost. I must say, after Her Majesty's magic, you made a speedy recovery. Although she was swearing. And she looked like she'd unloaded a wagon. — I'm anti-magical. Or, alternatively, too magical. In short, I'm like some of your black crystals. And without much effect. — I've noticed that touching you is unpleasant at first. — At first? — Yes. Then there's a strange sensation, like a tickle that just disappeared. — Well, we'll put that down to your perception. I don't think any ponies are in any danger of me touching them. — You shouldn't talk like that. It's like, — Fast Solis stammered, — It's like you're putting yourself in the grave. You can't do that. — Look at me, Solis! — Belkin smiled unhappily. — I'm frightened of my reflection. Scars. And wisps of hair. I don't know how miraculously my tail survived. I don't really care for it, though. — It will pass! You have to hope! Valentine, the burnt squirrel dog, was silent. He wasn't used to hoping. He thought he'd had a fucking great New Year's holiday. And he wouldn't come back. It was possible to finally leave, if Chrysalis wasn't lying, but to return... It was unlikely that he was still lying in the capsule on a barely rustling film. — Tell me about your weather control... — Well, the pegasi gather the clouds and drive them to a designated spot... — Aren't the clouds huge? — No, no, no! Only the alicorns can do natural clouds! Pegasi move magical ones. My stallion explained it to me... — You don't use the word «husband». — Well, — The pony was embarrassed. — We didn't register a family. There... unnecessary questions... — I see, — The squirrel dog wrinkled. — Are you in pain? Maybe I should give you... — No. It's tolerable for now. There's something wrong with my stomach. — I think you switched to regular food early. Told you! — Let's hope so. Hey, do you have any fish soup? — Ugh! How do you even eat this stuff? Mine is also a fan of this vile brew! Once a month, he's bound to try this murky, stinking slop somewhere! — Muddy? Okay, you're not used to the smell, but murky slop? Do you even know how to cook this stuff? Or do you not eat anything of animal origin on principle? — I've had chicken. You know, the kind that's really stupid. It's okay. Just don't tell anyone. Shrimp, though. Plenty of them. — Plenty... Okay, — Valentine stood up heavily and put his palm to the small snowflakes. — It's cold. Let's go. So what's the schedule for clouds? And who makes that schedule?***
It was warm in the room. Water heating. The coal-fired boiler was located somewhere in the basement, like in classic American horror movies. A small and high-placed window. It feels cool, it's obvious that the frame is old and cracked. A fine iron mesh is soldered into the glass. And the glass itself is quite thick. Well yeah It's a mental hospital. By nightfall, strange pains in joints and muscles began. Breaking out. And the pain from the healing burns increased. Pony brought something, some small pills. Belkin swallowed a couple of the three, and refused the third. Fast Solis sighed, but did not insist. He lay there thinking about the weather. The wheelchair had been taken away and replaced by a regular hospital bed. Creaky mesh. Now, the planet's orbit is elliptical. The axis of inclination is small. Consequently, no distinct differences between the northern and southern hemispheres. But that Little Strongheart said snow was rare around Applusa. At any rate, there are no snowdrifts. Are the pegasi at the behest of the unicorns pulling down all the magic and snow clouds on the city and gardens? Perhaps. I was also surprised that it wasn't cold in Irvind's winter way, but rather dank. Winter in Sochi, damn it. But in Canterlot, which is pretty close to the equator, the snow on the streets doesn't melt on its own, it's cleared away. And in the same overseas Aashtetos, which is closer to the south pole, almost on the border of floating ice, it is relatively warm in winter. Valentine was not an astronomer, but he came to the conclusion that the tilt of the Equus axis had an effect here. In ten or twenty thousand years, the axis would shift due to precession. After that, Aashtetos will gradually go fucking extinct. But with this magic, there might be no one to watch the new ice age. Somewhere in the other side of the building, there was barely audible shouting and raving crazies. The trauma room was quiet. The rooms are the same, but quiet. And the doors aren't locked. He did not notice that he had fallen asleep. He dreamed that some force was tearing at him, but was stuck in the murky time. Something was coming. — How are you, copy? Alive? — It was in his head. Belkin recognised his voice from the third time. A little different, as if from a dictaphone. Same weird feeling. — Hello, original, — Said the squirrel dog. — See what the fuck happened? How's Bobcat? — It sucks. She's sensitive to all these cerebral waves. We'll do what we can... Does you that... Try your best. Is everything all right there? — I'm in the local nuthouse. I really miss having a computer. And... — Yeah? — Don't leave Bobcat. — I wasn't going to. You know that. Man, I can't hear you very well. It's like I'm talking through cotton wool. — Wake up. You're in trouble out there. And we need to figure out a way to communicate. — I'm afraid not yet. Well, see you later? — See you. Don't worry about me. Don't bury me before my time. The last one was already smudged. Lost. Squirrel dog Belkin sat up jerkily on the bed. His heart was pounding. It was painful and bad. The Belkin human overcame a chill and pulled the emergency exit lever. Someone was disconnecting and unplugging the injection system, something was injected into his thigh, and it made his body hot and cold and his head empty. They fussed. Then they helped him out. He was trained, of course. He was given the opportunity to be examined. He was promised rest. And put back in the capsule by dire necessity. To try to project again. It didn't work. The brain didn't realise itself in the otherworldly model. Or anywhere else. — What's with the cerebral wave? — Croaked a naked guy in hard plastic «underpants» and with bruises on his elbows. Petrovich, like a recently quit smoker twirling a cheap gas lighter in his fingers, hid the object in his pocket and wearily threw: — Fucked up.