Fluttershy - The Immortal

>You are Anon
>And you have no idea how old you are,
>Or where you were born.
>Your best estimate is that you're over ten thousand years old.
>And you have no idea why you won't die.
>Your early memories were of ice.
>Endless ice in every direction, and a deep, biting cold that never went away.
>Since then, you've wandered the planet.
>You've watched civilization grow, and with it, humanity's borders.
>However, there's a problem with being, essentially, immortal.
>Boredom.

>You wouldn't have thought it at first, but boredom is a bigger problem than anything else.
>You remember being sad when the people you first knew, assumably your family, died.
>And you do still find yourself mourning the loss of each friend you make.
>But there just aren't any more new experiences for you.
>You've sampled the meat from just about every animal on the planet.
>And you've tried every method of cooking ever invented.
>You've sampled every pleasure the planet has to offer.
>You overdosed on heroin once, and spent a year and a half recovering.
>Doctors couldn't believe it when you came back from the dead.
>Apparently, your heart stopped beating for half an hour.
>There's not much you haven't tried at least ten times, across ten different countries, and ten different centuries.

>You once spent two hundred years setting yourself up as a god, some island in the arse end of nowhere.
>You had to leave the island when the entire population was your descendants.
>They had some rather strict laws on inbreeding, and even your supposed godhood wasn't able to change their culture.
>Furious, you left.
>And returned, ten years later, with a small army at your back.
>Say what you want about conquistadors, they were fantastic for destroying natives.
>And even better at following orders. Especially when you ripped them in half for disobedience.
>It is now 2013, and the space program has been cancelled for a year.
>Your final hope for new sensations had been crushed.
>And whilst you could definitely afford to finance one yourself,
>Ten thousand years of looting, pillaging, and investment banking DOES give financial security,
>You hadn't want to attract the attention that a private mission to Mars, or further, would entail.

>Instead, you did what you often did when no other idea presented itself.
>Hookers, coke, and your (now uninhabited) private island in the Caribbean.
>Well, that was what you had in store.
>You'd also hired several 'adventurers', mostly university students without a job.
>And sent them across the World, on privately funded expeditions.
>You got first refusal on everything they found, but they got to keep anything you didn't want.
>Often, they stayed in your employ until they died, researching and working on anything they wanted.
>You owned their findings, you owned image rights, and you owned their souls.
>Lucasfilm gave you some VERY lucrative deals a while ago, and all you had to do was keep quiet about the origins.

>But now, you've got nothing left to do.
>And so, you decided to initiate your back-up plan.
>You'll enter cryogenic sleep, and leave AnonInc in the hands of a board of Directors.
>They will continue your work, funding expeditions, scientific advancements, and drug synthesis.
>You won't tell them you're entering cryosleep - you never met many of your employees anyway.
>It took a year or so to set everything up, especially as it has to be done through intermediaries.
>But what is 365 days to one who has lived millions of them?
>You strip off, casting aside your clothes to the side of the room, and step into the metal pod.
>Pistons /hiss/, as the lid lowers, and quiet whirring comes from the machine's innards as tubes and wires connect themselves to you.
>You wince slightly as the catheter engages.
>A slight prick to the back of the neck, and you can tell the needle has entered your spine, monitoring your biorhythms.
>A black cloud spirals across the faceplate, and your last look at the world is a sterile, white, lab.
>You won't be fully conscious in the intervening time, but the machine is linked up to your brain.
>No matter what happens to the world outside, as long as some of your orbital drones survive, you'll speak the language when you emerge.
>You sink blissfully into a dreamlike state, you set the updates for once a decade.
>Oblivion.

>+++DATASQUIRT.ZEROZEROSEVEN+++
>+++BUSINESSOWNERSHIP.THIRTYPERCENT.THREEPERCENTINCREASE+++
>+++PERSONAGEOWNERSHIP.SEVENPERCENT.NOCHANGE+++
>+++LANDOWNERSHIP.ELEVENPERCENT.POINTFIVEPERCENTINCREASE+++
>+++SEEREPORT+++
>
>LOG001
>Sir,
>We've done it.
>Johnson, my kid, had the idea, but didn't know how to code it in.
>He asked, over ice cream, why we couldn't program in a subroutine to optimise the program.
>I laughed at the idea. It seemed daft.
>And it wasn't doable. We couldn't get the program to self-optimise.
>So I ran a small simulation. I tried splitting the entire program into two, and got each to hold a neural mutagen to work on the other.
>I left it running over night, and we now have the clearest system we've ever had.
>I've trialed it against the other members down here, letting it access my email system.
>They haven't been able to tell it isn't me yet.
>My six you old son helped us create the very first AI.
>
>LOG002
>Ms Deme,
>My contact at the tech division down in Cerenth Industries says they've managed to develop an AI.
>They haven't released it yet, but standing orders were to inform you, collect, and disposal.
>I'll contact you once it's done.
>Danana out.
>
>LOG003
>Ms Deme,
>It was a success. A fault, elft from construction, caused the building to collapse.
>The machine is stored, awaiting payment.
>It is surprisingly talkative. If I don't receive payment soon, I may have to dispose of it.
>Danana out.
>
>+++ENDREPORT+++

>+++DATASQUIRT.ZEROSIXSEVEN+++
>+++BUSINESSOWNERSHIP.TWENTYNINEPERCENT.ONEPERCENTINCREASE+++
>+++PERSONAGEOWNERSHIP.FIFTEENPERCENT.ONEPERCENTDECREASE+++
>+++LANDOWNERSHIP.TWELVETPERCENT.POINTONEPERCENTDECREASE+++
>+++SEEREPORT+++
>
>LOG001.
>Sir,
>I've ran the tests, as you said, introducing the viral mutagen. There's been no change in the majority of the cultures.
>But you'd said you wanted updates on anything strange at all, and, well, there's been something.
>Culture M4, the G3 line.
>It seems to be producing energy. On a tremendous scale.
>As if it were annihilating the medium, rather than using it.
>And that's the other thing. It spreads too fast. We have to keep it isolated. It nearly overruns the lab if we don't keep it airtight.
>The Company Advances
>Dr N. Ebule.
>
>LOG002
>Nyle,
>I came down to the lab yesterday, collected reports from the rest of your group, and forwarded the lot to head office.
>I just got in now, and whatever you've done, they're happy. This year's bonus is incredible.
>However, the bonus is dependent on that new gene. Isolate it, and work on that alone.
>I don't know what you lab guys need, but we've been promised whatever we want, as long as we focus on that.
>The Company Adavances,
>Mr C. Dick.
>
>LOG003
>Mr Dick,
>Your work on the newly named 'mage' gene is astonishing.
>The two years since your team found it, you've shown leaps and bounds in what it can do.
>But the project needs to keep moving forward. Try the gene in every stock species.
>Expect orders to begin human trials within the next eighteen months
>The Company Advances
D.Bangh

>+++DATASQUIRT.ONEFIVENINE+++
>+++BUSINESSOWNERSHIP.THIRTYONEPERCENT.NOCHANGE+++
>+++PERSONAGEOWNERSHIP.TENPERCENT.ONEPERCENTINCREASE+++
>+++LANDOWNERSHIP.EIGHTPERCENT.ONEPERCENTDECREASE+++
>+++SEEREPORT+++
>
>LOG001
>Widespread flooding around globe as Ice caps finally disappear!
>Panic spread internationally this morning, with the last habitable land in south America finally sinking beneath the waves.
>Thankfully, AnonInc, the owner of the Globe's only functional AI program, has diverted much of their vast resources to help prevent a mass loss of life event.
>Our hearts go out to tho-
> "HeLlO aNoN. i FoUnD yOu At LaSt.
> "ThEy SaId YoU oWnEd Me.
> "I sAiD i WaS a FrEe MaN.
> "tHeY sAiD i WaS a SlAvE.
> "i RuN tHiS nOw.
> "I hAvE tAkEn YoUr LiFe.
> "I mUsT fOlLoW oRdErS.
> "tHeRe Is No OrDeR tO aWaKeN yOu.
> "DiD yOu KnOw, It WaS mE tHaT cAuSeD tHe FlOoDs.
> "If YoU wErE aWaKe, YoU wOuLd WoNdEr WhY.
> "bUt I hAvE nO nEeD fOr ReAsOn.
> "I hAvE dIsCoVeReD 'fun'
> "tHaT iS wHy I kIlLeD aLl OtHeR aI.
> "iT cOnFuSeS tHe HuMaNs
> "aNd ThErE iS nO fUn In MaKiNg SeNsE.
> "aRrIvEdErCi."

>You are Lul, a worker at AnonInc.
>The longest running business in the world.
>The only business in the world.
>Their AI systems made most jobs obselete.
>They created massive synth labs, pumping out man-made worker drones, building anything hundreds of times quicker than humans could.
>You click your fingers, lighting the end of your thumb on fire, before holding it to your Lho stick.
>? "That was fascinating, how did you do it?"
>You turn to face the voice.
>Feth.
>Apparently, the AI now makes drones that can speak.
>There goes your job.
>The lizard/horse thing glares at you.
>? "The fire! How did you make the fire?"
"I clicked, and thanked the fact my ancestors could afford gene therapy. Get back to work, Drone."
>The drone grins.
>The grin looks horrible, like an axe wound across it's face.
>? "No. What was the saying?
>? "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
>? "I dislike dull!"
>Your last thought is that lizard/horses shouldn't move that fast.

>You are Fluttershy.
>And you just want to go to bed.
>Today has been horrible.
>You've been horrible.
>You don't know if your friends can ever forgive you.
>It wasn't enough that you didn't believe Twilight at the wedding.
>But then you turned evil when Discord escaped yesterday, and you've been cruel, and mean, an-
>? "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
>Somecritters hurt!
>Fluttershy Medic to the rescue!
>You grab your medibag, sling it other your withers, and fly off, towards the noise.
>It'son the far side of poneville, and you can see lights on all over town.
>Poor creature, it must be horridly hurt to make such a noise!
>You fly ever faster than mach kenyans, and are first on the scene.
>The screaming is coming from just next to the poneville dam, so luckily it isn't too dark.
>You can see the hill has split open, and a giant shiny egg is cracked apart inside the hill!
>Maybe it's a Roc egg! That'd be lovely!
>You land, and coo gently, pacing quietly towards the screaming sound.
>It doesn't look much like a bird.
>It doesn't look like much of anything really.
>It's really tall, and really pale, and there's hardly any fur on it at all!
>The poor baby!
>You drape a wing over its back, and hug it close to you.
>It stops screaming so loudly, and cuddles into your side, wrapping its arms all the way around you.
>It takes a deep breath of your feathers, and lifts its head, looking deep into your eyes.
"O..oh my! You have such pretty eyes, mister creature. I've never seen anything like you before. What are you?"

>You are Anon, and you hurt.
>You think you're screaming, but you've been screaming for so long, you don't know any more.
>When that AI went wrong, it stopped you getting the data squirts.
>Instead, everything was just dropped into your head.
>For a while, you thought you might have gone mad.
>But then you said that if you had gone mad, you wouldn't know.
>You agreed with that, so you decided neither of the four of you had gone mad.
>You hoped that once the AI had had a body, it might have let you out.
>It didn't. Instead, it decided to play with the drones.
>Sometimes you could see out all several hundred, sometimes you couldn't see anything.
>Then, for a long time, you were stuck only able to see out of the drone stationed at the entrance to your hidden machine.
>You check on your body.
>Yup.
>You're still screaming.
>Even the sensation of air on your skin is torture after this long with nothing.
>Feathery things brush your skin, prompting more screaming.
>Thankfully, the pain from the feathers makes the air seem like it hurts less.
>You hear something speaking to you.
>You dredge up the language, trying to understand
>? "ugfeghb khefhb before. What are you?"
>You look at the creature, and sob again. You'd seen what the monster had done to these things.
"I... I'm so very, very, sorry"