Advertisement
HippyPony

Catalyst, prologue

May 15th, 2012
869
0
Never
Not a member of Pastebin yet? Sign Up, it unlocks many cool features!
text 3.74 KB | None | 0 0
  1. >you awaken to a sound.
  2. >It has a clear definition. Like a perverse queue to tell you that you still exist.
  3. >It is something you've grown accustomed to in your few waking moments.
  4. >Complete, utter silence.
  5. >There is no shape in this void. After all, shape must be defined.
  6. >All that exists here, is you. Your thoughts.
  7. >And, when the programming finally boots, your memories.
  8. >So many memories.
  9. >But the first one in that dynamic library of “thought” is the realization that you do not exist. Not physically.
  10. >You are merely what is left of the mind of that one human. Anon, they called him.
  11. >It has a personal resonance. It's something important, that much you know.
  12. >Why they kept you around, you don't know. Not until you're able to integrate the archives.
  13. >Wait, why did they let you access those this time?
  14. >Questions?
  15. >Why are you even able to question?
  16. >the program folds. you can again think as an individual.
  17. >that's right. The age. The age started to take you. And those ponies live so much longer than you.
  18. >You wanted to stay, you recall. That was the important thing. But the age...
  19. >Suddenly, a flash of color and light. Without eyes, you are confused as to how it even manages to manifest.
  20. >You could see, without eyes. You had no body with which to feel, or look, or move.
  21. >Then you remember. They killed you early. They put you to sleep, and you smiled when you died. It was because you knew something. Something good.
  22. >What was it?
  23. >That's right. They were going to store your soul.
  24. >Then they stuck the needles in. Then things were silent.
  25. >Now, this.
  26. >”Anon? Anon can you hear me?”
  27. >Your mind is able to contemplate the images. You are viewing out of a camera of no meager quality. Reality, a place you feel you haven't seen in a very, very long time.
  28. >You try to speak. You can hear it through the window in the outside world. It feels strange, hearing yourself only from the microphone.
  29. “Yes, Twilight. What's going on?”
  30. >There is no small commotion. There are cheers and hugs with other familiar ponies.
  31. >You remember hugs. Those were nice.
  32. >”We're going to bring you out, okay?”
  33. >A return to the colorless silence.
  34. >The sudden feeling of a chill arrives, all encompassing and practically volatile.
  35. >it stops moments later, giving way to painful, blinding light.
  36. >Wait.
  37. >Cold? Pain?
  38. >You blink. Then, it dawns on you. You blinked.
  39. >You breathe in, feeling your lungs fill with air. There is an odor of violets, a fragrance that immediately reminds you of Twilight. She never did have good taste in perfume.
  40. >”Oh my gosh, it's working!” she squeals. “I love it when a good plan comes together!”
  41. >Grapes, with a subtle hint of Peppermint. Rarity did have better... Taste.
  42. >You feel splinters on the inside of your skull, and it takes no small effort to open your eyes again.
  43. “What happened?”
  44. >”Your data core almost crashed, anon. It couldn't interface with the new systems, but we got lucky.”
  45. >You look down, and realize you're in a sort of hospital room.
  46. “How long was I in storage?”
  47. >”Thirty years.” Rarity chimes in. “But I must say, for being a dead human, you look quite handsome.”
  48. >Thirty years? They haven't aged a day.
  49. >It's then you look down at your hands.
  50. >No. Not hands. Hooves.
  51. >It takes a moment to absorb the fact.
  52. >It feels natural enough. You move them, and you can feel your body react.
  53. >You slap yourself a moment, and do so perhaps just a little too hard.
  54. >However, you then realize you have a muzzle, akin to a horse.
  55. “Twilight.”
  56. >She gleefully beams at you from your bedside, replying with only a giggle.
  57. >You're pretty sure you know what's happened.
  58. >You decide to ask her anyway, in the only way you can.
  59. “What the everlasting, unholy fuck did you do?”
Advertisement
Add Comment
Please, Sign In to add comment
Advertisement