>>41431332
We've been dead for a long while, but I have it on good authority that somebody's back from the grave. We should be able to expect green within a day.
I cut the links to other stories since, let's be honest, none of them were active anymore. We'll have to wait and see which ones come back.

>>41431332
>deletes the green list section of op
Why? Are you that lazy to update that single entry which is changed and instead you just delete it?

>>41431624
I explained why. It's supposed to be recently updated and active greens, and we don't have any.

>>41432064
We don't have any? Really? WiK dropped an update last thread. #deca.mare gets updates regularly.

>>41431333
Oh I'm excited to see who's coming back

>>41432608
My bad. I'll try to get it through, but now I'm being caught by the spam filter.

>>41431333
Thanks for making the thread for me, fren. It's good to be back. Since it's been even longer than usual, my recap will probably need to be appropriately thorough. So here's where we're currently at:

>Twilight, AJ, and Rainbow successfully managed to bypass the White Junction facility in western Canterium, operated by Ordo Intelligentsia. They narrowly avoided getting caught in the crossfire of an Army raid on the site instigated by Chancellor Neighsay. They have boarded a supply train bound for the city of Unicronia, where they hope to find the next Element-bearer; however, they were spotted by an Army soldier, and the manhunt for Rainbow Dash has now implicated Twilight and AJ as well.
>Neighsay is making final preparations for a total assault on OI, which he believes is planning to betray him with a secret project discovered at Site 23 by his whistleblower, Lucky Clover. He received an encrypted message from Clover stating that he and Pink were compromised. He has resolved to go personally to Site 23 to arrest Black Bar using his new emergency powers under the newly passed Liberation Act.
>Lucky Clover infiltrated Omega Sector, the deepest bowels of the buried Maker construct known as Site 23. Using Pink the Mouthless Jester, he was able to secure microfiche photographs of the interior of the Sector. One hour before Neighsay received the mysterious message, Clover has broken Pink out of Omega Sector, and is currently taking both her and the photos up to his secluded console to see what they contain...

Hopefully that was thorough enough. Enjoy the update!

******

>>41433606
>The elevator comes to an abrupt halt; harsh light streams in from beyond the threshold, and as the doors slide open you waste no time in rolling your cart forward
>You remain Lucky Clover, despite everything you’ve endured
>You weave between flocks of engineers, scientists, armed officers and suits alike in your singular aim to get back to your hidey hole as quickly as possible
>You’ve never seen Site 23 quite this abuzz, certainly not in this sector; it’s all hooves on deck, for what Black Bar perceives to be an imminent assault by the Army
>It won’t happen, of course; at least, not before the Chancellor has his justification
>And that, for better or worse, comes in the form of whatever images are inside the camera pen in your pocket
>Pushing through the crowd, you chance to see Comet Tail at the far end of the hall, skittishly peering over heads
>Strangely, he looks a bit worse for wear; not sick like he was, but nervous and insomniac
>And even stranger, he’s flanked by two duralite-clad guards, both sporting military-grade shoulder-mounted weapons and hard stares
>An impulse, some instinctual urge, tells you it’s probably not a good idea if they see you here
>You duck low beneath the rack of the cart, and at the earliest chance, you bank a hard right down another corridor, this one a bit sparser
>Just a little further... it feels like this pen is burning a hole in your side
>Finally, after ascending a few more ramps, you get a glimpse of the starlit sky through a porthole, casting the catwalk-laced pit at the center of Site 23 in stark silver and black
>The red rocks are all but drained of their natural color in the moonlight, and at the peak of the chasm the comms array stands like an oversized needle amid the summer blackness
>Before you can drink it all in, the view is gone again, and the familiar Theta sigil emblazoned on the walls indicates that you’ve reached your destination
>Less activity here, as usual; spotting the derelict restricted tunnel that conceals your hidden computer, you nonchalantly wheel the cart up to it, such that it blocks the entrance
>Then, after tearing the nameplate off its smooth exterior, you carefully inch the container off the cart, deeper into the unlit chamber
>No sense in drawing attention to this place, especially with all the activity around here lately... but if somepony does try snooping, a cart blocking the entrance may be enough to deter them while you’re busy
>You check your corners one last time, ensuring that nopony is coming from either direction, and then you undo the latches on the container lid and hinge it slightly ajar
“Alright. Come out, before somepony sees.”
>It looks like tar at first, ink-dark and overflowing
>But despite the color, it’s slightly too solid for that... gelatinous, almost

Sure as fuck didn't miss these captchas.

>>41433608
>Pink’s body squeezes out through the hoof-width crack you’ve made for her, flattening and clinging to the outer wall of the container until what appears to be her “head” reaches the floor
>Tendrils (or hooves, though they don’t look it now) aid her in her extrication, finding purchase in even the smallest slivers of bent geometry the container has to offer and dragging the rest of her half-liquid form along to the ground
>In all, she’s completely invisible to the rest of the hallway as she climbs out from her hiding spot, a snaking shadow that blends completely into the dark corridor leading into the mainframe room
>Once again, you find yourself struggling in vain to imagine what such a sight would look like if Pink weren’t wearing that full-body suit
>Is she... breaking her bones to do that? Or are her bones just as flexible as the rest of her?
>What does a mare’s head look like when it’s being stuffed through a space the size of a paperweight?
>The thought makes you queasy, so you cast it out of your head
>Instead, you follow the shadow inward, forcing the broken door shut behind you and moving swiftly into your haven
>When you round the corner, Pink is already waiting for you amid the humming monitors, blinking lights and mess of coiled cables
>You unlatch the hidden bus-drive in the base of the pen, jamming it into the nearest port and watching as the composite machine you’ve created whirs to life after a week of neglect
>Those strange backtraces you’d been getting from comms were enough to spook you into discontinuing your digital correspondence with the Chancellor
>Now, however, it’s a necessity; there’s no other way to get this information to him, barring sending Pink back to Mons Canteria with it herself
>But despite the risk, this is faster, and whatever gets this information to Neighsay faster is what gets you out of this dump faster
>And besides, you can’t possibly NOT see with your own eyes the photos Pink took down there in Omega Sector; it’s just too irresistible a secret!
>As soon as the external drive registers, you double click, and wait for the images to load
>When the first one does, what you see... confuses you
>It’s just a hallway, with a dark space above it that extends towards a ceiling of uncertain height
CLICK
>More of the same; looks like Pink was simply taking pictures as she went
“Good eye for photography, there. Nice composition. Heh, heh.”
>The joke doesn’t get much of a reception from Pink, who stands silently at attention over your left wither
>Well, YOU thought it was funny
CLICK
>After about three more hallway pictures, you come upon an unfamiliar sight: a large, open chamber that appears to be completely lined with sheer plastic tarp
>It’s like a bubble room, isolated from the rocks and girders beyond, and narrowing into a long, long hallway at one end

>>41433612
CLICK
>She’s in the hallway now; it’s murderously dark, probably owing to the high perch she took, and there are two figures well beneath her
>The concrete corridor appears to slope downward into a chamber filled with light, at least a quarter of a mile away by your estimate, and both sides are edged with crimson sentry turrets that shine ominously
>You’re reminded of the fortresses of old, the kind you learned about on the days of reform school you didn’t skip: the ones with torches and knights and engraved pillars lining the path to some king or emperor’s mighty throne
CLICK
>Wholly apart from that ominous hall is what you guess lay at its terminus: a congregation of ponies, all clad in white gowns, probably labcoats, though the image is too grainy to say for sure
>Once again, Pink is well above them, and the whole mass of them surround a central altar of sorts: an enormous reflective sphere that glows with spooky iridescence
>In front of the sphere is a platform, on which stands... is that Professor Neigh?
>You’d recognize his dorky mane and glasses anywhere, and the black eye he got courtesy of Caballeron is unmistakable
>It’s a demonstration of some kind, further backed up by the coiled structures that surround, point into, and interlink with the sphere, like the claws of a giant beast risen from the sand to clutch at a pearl from below
>As a matter of fact, you recognize those tower-coils; you saw a couple of them being carted through Omega Gate yesterday, to an unknown end
>And encircling all of it are rows upon rows of boxy devices, identical to the supercomputer stacks you observed being transported en masse into Site 23 that kicked off this whole shebang
>From this angle, the whole setup looks less like a controlled experiment, and more like OI is doing everything they can to contain a caged animal, if said animal were a shiny marble the size of a small house
CLICK
>A few more shots of the sphere go by, from the same angle, and then one in particular catches your eye
>Black Bar, in all his smug glory, is standing next to Neigh on the podium, apparently delivering a speech
CLICK
>The image is dimmer this time; same room, but the only source of light is the sphere itself, glowing like a star and thrusting sparks in the direction of the coils
>Each successive image, likely taken seconds apart, are snapshots of so many lightning bolts frozen in time, emanating from the sphere
>The photos take on a strange ripple effect at their edges, as if the very camera is being warped by the strange energy being applied to (or deriving from) the sphere
>Below it, the scientists are more scattered, more mob-like than the orderly crowd they were before
CLICK
>The next image is all black
>But amid the grain and the pixels, you could swear that the faint traces of a face are emerging out of shades of grey

>>41433613
>But the face is impossible, inequine, and before you can really scrutinize it, your eyes lose what they thought they saw, and you dismiss it as an illusion
CLICK
>Several more images from the high rafters, now from varying angles: most of them have the sphere in them, but one in particular grabs your attention
>It’s a snapshot of a whiteboard in the same chamber, taken from high above, but nonetheless clear enough to make out some of the writing
>One of the words is “SUBSTRUCTURE,” which immediately confirms the connection between this experiment and Neigh’s dossier
>Others are “HYPER-DENSITY,” “FREQUENCY RANGE,” and, most strangely of all, “COMMUNION LOG”
>Beneath that last one are notes scribbled out, erased and rewritten endlessly, judging by the eraser marks
>But one word remains in place, larger than the rest and virtually untouched
>What does it say? You can’t be sure with this resolution
>Wheat?
>Wall?
>Well?
>That’s—
BANG
>You leap away from the console, knocking over one of your piles of accumulated spare parts as the chair buckles under you
>A loud noise, not quite a gunshot, but close by; it sounds like it came from just outside, from Theta Tunnel
>Once you’ve collected yourself, you look around, dazed; something’s still propping you up, and it isn’t your chair
“Nuh!”
>You reflexively bound away from the hooves pressed against your withers
>Not that you’re surprised that Pink can move that quickly, or even she’d take the time to catch you; but you’re still a little shaken from what happened down below, that moment between you
>What was she trying to tell you? And why did she have to be so damn creepy about it?
>In any case, there’s likely nothing to worry about out there... ponies drop things, bump into walls, so—
>”Shamrock!”
>Your heart goes still
>The ponies out there don’t often call your “name” unprompted
>And what’s more, it sounded like Comet Tail’s voice...
>You just saw him being guarded... what’s he doing looking for you?
>Can’t have seen you come this way... not a chance...
>Cautiously, you step around Pink, motioning at her to stay quiet, not that she needs any encouragement
>When you reach the entrance to your little alcove, you peer around the rocky corner, surveying the tunnel beyond the broken door
>Your forehoof trails down your body, pawing for the pistol concealed amid your personal effects
>The lights of the corridor seem almost alive, dancing and scattering in fractals to your unaccustomed eyes
>With one more look at Pink, you step out of the shadows, trotting cautiously towards the empty cart between you and...
>”Sham! C’lestia, th-there you are!”
>Before you can react, Comet’s bright yellow head pokes out from the sharp corner, and immediately you can tell that he’s distressed
>His eyes dart back and forth, and he’s trembling as though the air were twenty degrees cooler

>>41433615
>”I-I’ve been looking e-everywhere for you. Wh-what are you... what are you doing back there?”
>Damnit, Clover, think of something!
>Why ARE you skulking in an abandoned shaft?
>You grope for something to latch onto, both with your hoof and with your brain; the former finds purchase on a girder, keeping you from sinking under the weight of your own stress, but the latter...
“Er... Comet. Sir. I was... I thought I saw somepony... tampering with—”
>”And why did you leave THIS out in the open? I-I bumped into it...”
>Comet gestures sharply at the discarded container bearing your name, leaning off the edge of the transport cart, and practically in the middle of the hallway
>You cringe unsubtly; why didn’t you just pull it deeper into the shaft, or...
>Or nothing
>It’s done now, and all you can do now is control the damage
“I was caught off guard by something. It’s no problem now, just a minor detour.”
>Your boss scratches his hoof and chuckles nervously; an odd reaction for him
>You thought he’d be more inquisitive, given that it’s in his job description
>”Uh... so... Sham?”
“Comet?”
>”Why don’t you... um... I mean, I have something I need you to help me with... it’s... important.”
>What’s with this strange attitude?
>Yesterday, he was an untouchable cavalier, brimming over with the energy of that majestic power trip you conned him into taking
>Now, he seems too squeamish to ask his subordinate for a favor
>On one hoof, you’re tempted to tell him to piss off, and upload these files immediately
>But if you do that, then he might get a muzzle for trouble about this little spot of yours, and come snooping later
>Find your equipment, your console... of which, even if you wanted to, you could practically never erase the evidence
>There’s just too much junk in there that you’ve accumulated over the course of your stay in paradise, and you won’t get it out again
>Nopony can know
>So, you’re left with only one option
“I’d be glad to assist. What’s the job?”
>”Ah-heh. It’s only, ah... it’s only in Kappa. There’s some kind of dispute over ownership of some lab tech. You know h-how these whitecoats can be. Prissy prima donnas.”
“And you just need me to stand there and look pretty?”
>”Heh, well, it’s... I mean... I might need some... some backup, in case...”
“Comet, can I ask you a question?”
>”Y... sure.”
>You hesitate, uncertain if the rising pulse in your gut is something that should be trusted or not
>Usually, you wouldn’t dare to doubt it, but in a case like this, where the alternative is...
>It can’t possibly be
>Your head is hammering, and your lungs...
“Why did...”
>You barely manage to say the words
“Why did I see you with two troopers back in Phi Sector?”
>...

>>41433618
>Comet’s whole body appears to recede, to shrivel, as though something terribly offensive has been uttered aloud
>”Wh-what? That’s... I mean, I don’t think that—”
“It’s alright, man. It’s only a question. I was in that traffic jam back there, and I saw you with two of the plastic menaces. You looked frayed. You still look frayed. Are they...”
>”No! Um... no, there isn’t... l-look, just... just come with me.”
>Automatically, you grip the broad trigger of your firearm, keeping it well out of sight
>You’re practically speaking to Comet with half your body hidden, concealed by shadow and stone, looking every bit as ghoulish as Pink in this light
>And out there, Comet’s exposed, walled in by the sliver of what you can see beyond the doorframe, calling out to you like a...
>Like a nice, juicy, yellow bit of cheese on a hard, twisted, metal mouse trap
>Celestia above
“Comet... why don’t you... if you aren’t busy...”
>”Sham, we really need to—”
“No, no, just... just come look at what’s in here. C’mon. It’ll only take a few seconds.”
>”That’s... I mean, that’s not...”
“Don’t you wanna see what I found? There’s something really strange in this room back here. I think you should see it. Chief Inquiry Officer.”
>Every word you speak sends Comet a little bit further away, until his hindquarters are glued to the far wall, just beneath a rather auspicious “CAUTION IN HALLS” sign
>He’s terrified... and you think you know why
“Comet. Either you come look at this, or I’m not going.”
>”It’s... that’s not how... I’m ordering you to come... to...”
“What are you so scared of? You afraid of the dark?”
>Where all this tremendous confidence is bubbling up out of, you haven’t got a damn clue, but as long as it is you need to milk it for all it’s worth
>”I... I...”
“Who knows, Comet? Besides you, who knows?”
>”Pl... please, I just... why did you make me... what have I got to do with—”
“WHO KNOWS?!”
>The words echo across the pale plates of this modern subterranean crypt, riding the walls and halls and coming right back to you, deafening in their clarity
>And then, a long silence, eons long, holds between you and Comet, who cringes in place but does not run or charge
>He remains firm, and so do you, and his nerves are your nerves, and you feel that you could break down at any moment
>This has to be a dream... you left no trace, you were so careful...
>But the risk was too great, and maybe something passed quietly under the radar
>Some X-factor you could never have anticipated
“Come on, Comet. Don’t do this. Whatever it is you think you know... I mean, if you’re the only one.”
>You gulp; the grimy air seems to have dried up completely, as though you were standing up there in the Badlands, amid the sand and vipers and twilight

>>41433619
“If you have some kind of suspicion, a-and if you’ve crafted some kind of delusion, then just say it now. I’m not an idiot. I know exactly what you’re thinking. You’re thinking it’s me, right? You think what happened yesterday, that w-was me... pulling one over on you, on that inspector. But you’re wrong.”
>There’s no response; he’s barely even there
>You’re a piano wire stretched to its limit and plucked until it snaps
>Celestia, you don’t even know how you’re standing straight right now
>The gun is still there... you haven’t lost it... you could draw it if you needed...
“I’m not the mole. I’m not the reason for all this. You know me, Comet. You know who I am.”
>”I d-don't. I don’t know you.”
“Then what the HELL are we doing here? You want me to come do a job with you, what’s that about? Where are we really going, Comet? Huh?”
>Miraculously, you find the strength to inch forward, taking one step out of the shadow at a snail’s pace
>Comet, reacting to your movement, somehow manages to squeeze himself even tighter against that wall, and begins moving slowly towards the corner at the far end of the junction
>”We’re just... it’s only Kappa. I... I’m sorry, Lu—Shamrock. That’s all it is.”
>He very nearly just used your real name
>No, no, no... you thought you’d been careful, you thought...
>Without giving yourself a chance to think about it any harder, you allow your hoof to bolt for the pistol, leveling it with Comet’s muzzle before he can react
>Comet shrieks, gulps; but otherwise he freezes in place, making no further attempts to remove himself from the scene
>Sparks are flying in your head... questions without answers, all culminating in two main points:
>How did they find out? And how far can you run before you die?
>”He-he’s... he’s got—”
>”DON’T MOVE!”
>”HOOVES ON HEAD, CLOVER!”
>It’s instinct; pure instinct
>It wells up from some hidden source inside you, and it compels you to lunge forward towards Comet
>The two guards you saw earlier come wheeling out of each side of the tunnel entrance; they must have been hiding just out of sight the whole time
>Both are brandishing ARC-77s, mounted automatic weapons strapped against each of their right withers, the thick barrels of which are supported by their opposite hooves, and pointed directly at you
>But before they can lunge for you in turn, mere meters away from you, you’ve cuffed Comet by his wither and dragged him yelping back into the shadow
>”Don’t try it, Clover!”
>The gun is in your hoof, pointed now not at Comet, who shrieks and squirms in your tight grasp, but at the guards themselves
>You tremble; you’ve only fired a gun once in your life, and it wasn’t with lethal intent
>”Hooves on head, don’t make this harder than it has to be!”

>>41433629
>The guards bark their commands loudly, amplified by the cylindrical tunnels, their eyes obscured by the yellow-striped visors that change the entire shape of their heads, making them appear less equine, more demonic in nature
>You take a step back...
>”Stop moving! Do not retreat into that tunnel, we will open fire!”
“This is a mistake! Stop pointing those damn things at me!”
>”Stop talking, and put your Celestia-damned hooves on your head! Drop the weapon, and move into the light!”
>More hoofsteps, more noise, a cavalcade of stomping, shaking; some monster with a hundred hooves must be barreling down that hallway
>Of course, it isn’t; in a few seconds’ time, the two guards are joined by at least a dozen more, all sporting the same malicious weapons
>All of them projecting a distinct sensation of fear, just like Comet Tail
>But not fear of you
>”Last chance, Clover! You’re done! It’s over!”
“I’ll shoot him!”
>”NO! DON’T KILL ME!”
>”You do it, we’ll drop you! Lay it down NOW!”
“You kill me...”
>You speak to nopony in particular, your hoof gripping the trigger of the pistol for dear life, ready to pull it back at a moment’s notice
>Your mane is standing on end, and your heart is a cannonade, but your nerves are set and steeled by a force you can’t begin to understand
“You kill me, and she’ll attack.”
>”STOP TALKING!!!”
>They’re all aiming at you
>Their eyes, hidden and fearful, are all on you
>You were never one to bask in attention; you’ve always preferred to keep to yourself
>And now...
“Even one of you... sons of bitches... comes closer... I’ll call her out...”
>This time, not one of them musters a response
>They know about Pink... they know she’s back there, in the hidden chamber, watching and waiting to strike
>How they... how Black Bar... managed to figure out your plan, you’ll probably never know; but what’s important now is that they know what you have, and they’re scared out of their minds
>You can use that... you just have to... just...
>You take another step back, pulling a ghost-white Comet with you
>”Clover... stop moving. Final warning.”
“You don’t sound too convinced.”
>”Clover. Come on. Don’t make this so hard.”
>The foremost guard lowers his voice; there’s a note of sympathy in his tone
>You know this guard... only by ID number, not by name, since you’ve audited his unit once or twice
>But you know him all the same... you’ve seen him in the cafeteria, the hallways, the upper-level CI barracks
>You hate these ponies... you hate every last one of them, you...
>”No matter what happens here, Clover, you can’t think it’ll turn out your way. It just won’t.”
>You can’t shoot them; damn, you can’t do it
>Can’t even think about it without trembling, losing whatever facade of bravado you thought you had
>”Nopony’s that lucky.”

>>41433631
>Gritting your teeth, holding up what seems to be an unbearable weight on your withers, your mind stutters forth in fast-forward
>You could press the gun against Comet’s temple... but if you take the weapon off the soldiers, they’ll put one between your eyes like THAT
>You could take a step back... but they might advance, and it’ll be a shootout all the same
>You have no options left except—
>”THERE SHE IS! WEAPONS FREE!”
>Something silky and black slips across your periphery
>No, no, what is she doing?!
RATATATATATATATATATATATATAT
>Your eyes squeeze shut, and the gun in your hoof goes off; you know it only by the sudden pulse of pure power that bucks your foreleg backward
>All around you is the cacophony of ARC-77s blasting, crimson fireworks exploding behind your eyelids, the heat of micro-explosions touching your face
>And yet somehow, after several seconds of this, you aren’t dead yet
>You force your eyes open, revealing a sight that would have trumped your wildest horrific fantasies just a few short months ago
>Framed in the darkness of the hallway is Pink, illuminated only by a single bulb of flickering fluorescent light, the rest having apparently been blasted apart
>Standing on her hindlegs, which are eerily extended as if equipped with spring mechanisms at the hocks, she towers over you and the three guards she’s currently wrestling
>Dark slashes of blood paint the back wall, and it’s easy to see why; while two guards struggle against Pink’s grip, attempting to point their derelict weapons at her, the third is raised midair upon a glinting blade that appears to be extending directly out of her hoof
>There he thrashes, pierced through the throat like a fish on a hook, and with what little life remains in him he gargles while absorbing the fire from other guards out of sight
>”HOLD HER DOWN!”
>”CELESTIA! RED, NO!”
>You remember his name now: Code Red, ID # A4209
>He’s looking at you now; oh, Celestia, he’s looking right at you with bloodshot eyes, mouthing silent words as the life leaves him
>Nononononono, screw this screw this
>”FOR CELESTIA’S SAKE, SOMEPONY SHOOT THIS BITCH!”
RATATATATATATATATAT
>The pulse of firearms continues steadily, hailing from a dozen sources
>Pink moves faster than the eye can detect, whipping her prey around in a circular motion before dashing the two still-breathing guards against the far wall
>Then, with what you swear is a shockwave, she dashes upward, plunging her hooves into the ceiling and finding purchase in the miniscule cracks of exposed rock
>Still using Code Red as a shield against the fire, Pink hurtles across your vision at full speed, spider-like in her movements, until she’s completely out of sight
>Screams and cries echo out of Theta Tunnel, and more noises you don’t even want to begin to understand

>>41433633
>Celestia, you didn’t want this... you never wanted this, you’re just a hacker, oh Prophetess just come and deliver you out of this shitstorm...
>”CLOVER!”
>You’re still here
>You aren’t watching a movie, or playing a game, this is real life and you’re in it
>Pink just bought you a lot of time, and you’re wasting it splayed out on the ground, crushed by Comet Tail’s weight
>You need to leave, and fast; it doesn’t matter where you go, as long as you can make your way out of this damn desert forever and ever
“Comet! Get the hell off me, for—”
>It’s only when the light flashes again that you see that Comet’s eyes are wide open
>Far from being unconscious, he’s riddled with bloody holes, no doubt from the ARC-77s which moments ago were trained right at your head
>If you’d moved an inch, if Pink had been a moment too slow...
“NNNGHHHH!!!”
>You wriggle away from your boss’ corpse, reflexively curling into a fetal position and staring into those dead eyes
>Comet... he was a slimy bastard, a-and he was one of them...
>But he didn’t deserve this... nopony deserves to die like this, especially on your account
“SHIT!”
>Shit, what can you do, what can...
>The data
>The pictures
>Somehow, amid all this noise and gore and light and sheer brutality, some rational piece of you manages to reach out and get your brain’s full attention
>If you run now, you might have a tiny, tiny chance of getting out of here alive
>But then you’d be on hoof, in the middle of a desert that extends hundreds of miles in every direction, with no food or water, and nowhere to hide
>But if you can reach out to Neighsay, send him the pictures, give him a reason to come and intervene directly...

>>41433641
>Maybe it won’t all be in vain
>Your mission... your life...
>Maybe it could be FOR something
>You force yourself to avert your gaze from Comet’s lifeless body, raising yourself up on legs made of jelly and grabbing your pistol off the floor before retreating further into your hideaway
>Gunshots still echo off the walls, which means neither Pink nor all the guards are dead yet; while they fight, you can push the databank through the rider channel you and the Chancellor established
>The central monitor still glows with the last grainy, zoomed-in picture you’d been examining before Comet distracted you
>You close it hurriedly, navigating to the secure backdoor embedded within the hijacked computer’s system and dropping the files into it
>They take time to fully upload... time you really don’t have right now
>Gunshots outside, voices, slashes and slams... and something that almost sounds like a chainsaw?
>Celestia, give thee mercy to anypony who crosses that monster’s path
>After a few dozen seconds that feel like hours, a console message pops up in the corner of your screen, reading:
[UPLOAD COMPLETE :: ESTABLISHING SECURE UPLINK WITH IP 23.976.100.01...]
>The message will ride on existing communications through the main site-wide comms array, then scramble to an unknowable number of devices across the country before converging on Neighsay’s private terminal
>After a few seconds, a new message appears:
[ENTER ENCRYPTION KEY NOW: _]
>The encryption process will take even more time, and you can’t be confident just how much longer Pink will be able to fend off your attackers
>You bypass the encryption module you set up, opting to simply beam the unencrypted message directly through the channels
>If it were any time but now, a message like this would be far, FAR too risky to send, but there’s no use in maintaining secrecy now
>If they know who you are, they almost certainly know who you’re working for, and a Chancellor can sort out his own damn problems
“Come on, come on... LOAD!!!”
KRAKOOOOOOOOOOM
>That sounded like a grenade!
“Celestia, shit, nonono COME ON!”
>Finally!
[PACKAGE SENDING... 10%... 20%... 30%...]
>Please...
>You don’t want to die here... not without somepony, somewhere, knowing why...
[40%... 50%...]
>You find yourself inexplicably imagining the face of one Daredevil Cherry, that prim little filly who never said no to a challenge
>Back in the old days... if you could take it all back, if you could talk to her one last time, what would you say?
>What COULD you say?
[60%... 70%... ERROR!]
>Your blood turns to ice
>No, no, this... but...
>But you know exactly why, even before the error code resolves in the console...

>>41433647
[ERROR CODE 105 : FILE BACKTRACE UNVERIFIED : PLEASE CONSULT ADMINISTRATOR FOR MORE INFORMATION...]
“BLACK BAR! YOU SON OF A BITCH!”
>They locked you out of the comms array... they KNEW!
>They’ve known since... Celestia, since you first started receiving those irregular backtrace logs!
>That was weeks ago... they knew something strange was happening with their outgoing data, and you knew they knew, and you did absolutely nothing
>Well, what could be done? You... you even stopped, just in case... just in case...
>It’s too quiet
>Altogether you become aware that the shooting has stopped, or moved beyond your hearing
>There’s nothing protecting you now... did they finally kill Pink?
>You’re cornered, trapped in a dark cave like some primordial animal, awaiting death at the claws of an apex predator
>Cool air chills your flesh from the rattling grill of the vent above you, and you want nothing more than to turn invisible, to just vanish and slip away unseen
>If you could... just...
>You look up, a treacherous path illumining before your mind’s eye
>The vent!
>It’s just barely large enough for a pony to fit through; in fact, now that you think about it, it’s almost certainly how Pink managed to enter this room without being detected, the first time she arrived at Site 23
>Desperately, you unplug the flashdrive pen, balancing on two legs on top of your chair to just barely reach the vent’s grill
>Sweat and tears stain your face as you pull down with all your might on the aging metal, until...
CRACK
>One bolted corner flies away, followed quickly by another!
>Hanging on by just two bolts now, the grill unhinges, squeaking with a rusted sigh as it falls uselessly to the side
>Ensuring that the pen is secured in your pocket, you leap up and over the lip of the vent, banging your head against the side of the enclosed space as you do
>If they rush your hideaway, they’ll know where you went, so you’ll have to be two steps ahead of them
>You can only assume that they’ve shut down all communications between site electronics and the comms array by this point, and experimenting with any other computer on site would be next to impossible
>So... how to send a message?
>Well, Lucky, you brave, stupid bastard, there’s at least one terminal you know of that can’t be locked out of the array...
>The terminal linked to the array itself! The mainframe responsible for authorizing all incoming and outgoing data!
>That terminal is inside the comms station, several dozen meters from here as the crow flies and across the central well of the facility
>Unfortunately, you aren’t a crow; fortunately, however, you know this place inside out, including the ventilation layout
>You pored over those schematics endlessly, back when you were speculating about reaching Omega Sector by piloting a small spider drone through the ductworks

>>41433649
>It never came to fruition, since every sector of Site 23 is partitioned and ventilated separately, but that knowledge never fully went away
>Theta to Beta to Alpha Sector... you’ll crawl your way to the comms station, a-and then...
>Well, you’ll just have to cross that bridge when you come to it
>You flick on the flashlight hooked to your vest, affording you a narrow yellowish view of the metal corridor ahead
>Multiple hoofsteps grow louder and louder beneath you, signaling that more than one pony are converging on your hideaway
>Pink... you’d almost believed she was impossible to kill, and despite yourself, there’s a pang in your heart when you content yourself that she really might be gone
>Your time with her was short, and she was damn creepy, but you didn’t ask for this...
>No time to waste; you wedge your hindlegs against the trusses of the vent walls and push yourself forward, inch by inch, bit by bit
>Rounding a corner, you summon those distant memories of schematics in the back of your mind, struggling against all the stress and trauma of the last few minutes to focus on that raw, unfiltered information
>Forward ten meters... right... two meters... left... left... twenty-five meters...
>You aren’t concerned about the guards following you up here, at least not armed; those ARC-77s are too bulky to fit in this narrow vent
>Still, every corner you round sends another chill up your spine, as you imagine the light shining on a dark face, and the long barrel of your death
>Focus, Clover... just...
TSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
>There’s noise behind you
>Hissing... an air leak?
>Keep moving forward...
>The noise is spreading... it’s all around you now, emanating from every shaft
>Suddenly, your light catches a strange shadow, a flowing silver streak that seems to dance across the vent walls like water
>Seconds later, your eyelids flutter unconsciously; a smell like burning onions floods your nostrils
>Oh, Celestia... shut your...!
“AHHHHHHHHH!”
>Your eyes slam shut, but far too late; there are already twin infernos blazing in your corneas, piercing deep into your skull
>Tear gas!
>They're willing to flood the air vents with tear gas just to flush you out?!
>You’ve been caught in your fair share of labor riot clashes in the Undermaw, but you’ve never been forced so close to the stuff for so long
>It burns, burns, burns... they’re trying to smoke you out, make you give yourself away, or stand still and suffer while they converge on you!
>Celestia, you can’t see... can’t move, can barely even breathe...
>You’re trapped in the dark, alone, with nopony coming to save you, nopony...
>...
>No
>If these bastards are trying to gut your resolve, they’ll have to try much harder than that
>You may have been pretending to be pencil pushing middle management all this time, but you haven’t forgotten who you truly are

>>41433652
>You’re Lucky goddamn Clover, and your luck hasn’t run out yet
>Gritting your teeth, holding your breath, keeping your eyes shut as tightly as possible, you continue forward, pushing against the gas and the pain and the claustrophobia
>Your mental map of the vents guides you even where your eyes fail... right... twelve meters...
>The whole world is black, only the cold metal beneath your hooves matters
>Forward ten meters...
>Your lungs are corroding, squeezing your ribcage against your sides
>Everything in you ready to snap
>Climb up... a slant, ten meters...
>Clouds in your throat, in your ears, burning your skin, evaporating your tears
>Red pain pulsing through your being with every heartbeat
>Heart stop... STOP BEATING!
>Filter it away, leave it behind you, stop swimming in... in...
>Grill in five meters...
>Eyes still shut
>Heart still pounding
>Lungs still constricting
>But ahead of you, air and light
>Your head rams into something solid and serrated; looks like you overshot just a tad
>If anypony is in there, they’ve already heard...
>Gotta hurry, gotta...
>Gotta breathe...
>Gotta just...
“NNNGHHHAAAAHHH!!!!!”
>KICK!
BANG
>Something flies away, strikes a hard surface beyond the vent
>The uneven spikes of the vent grill leave a painful mark on your hoof, but it’s the least of your worries now
BANG
>Another blind strike, though nothing comes loose this time
>Faintly, beneath the current of static agony resonating in your ears, you manage to discern the sound of hooves tapping incongruously
>A few more should do it... you can taste the fresh oxygen, can see the redness of light through twitching eyelids
>But the gas is closing on you, suffocating you even while you’re inches from freedom
BANG
>You can tell there was less power behind that blow, fewer muscles firing in your hock
>Life is slipping away from you, spilling out of all your crevices, replaced with pain and the feeling of drifting elsewhere
>Just... another...
>TRY!
BANG
CLTCLTCLANG
>Having summoned all your remaining strength into that last shot, the grill is wrested away from the wall panel, screws and all
>It cracks against the ground, and a great involuntary moan leaves your lips as you launch yourself after it, over the threshold and into empty space
>You take a deep, gasping breath, still blind to your surroundings, and relief washes over you as you realize that it’s truly fresh air you’re breathing
>Well, as fresh as air gets in Site 23, but it’s enough to grant you a little more strength
>Tenderly, you open your eyes, ignoring the sizzling pain, struggling to make sense of your surroundings
>Your schematic told you that this ventilation shaft let out into a server bank connected to the main comms array, and that knowledge appears to have paid off
>Large, humming computer frames dominate the walls of this space, not much larger than a broom closet

>>41433655
>There’s nopony here, save for a few concerned busybodies outside the far door, but fortunately they don’t seem to have noticed your loud entrance
>In fact, their backs are turned to the window between you... they all appear to be intensely focused on something just out of view
>The sound of irregular hoofsteps is gaining, despite the lack of movement outside; you need to get to work
>As you creep up to the window to get a better look at the comms station, your hindquarters begin to bristle
>Tear gas is still flooding out of the vent, and may fill this space too given enough time
“They really don’t know I’m here... they don’t know what I’m trying to do.”
>Any secret is an advantage
>They’ve almost certainly reinforced the perimeter of the installation by now, so there’s practically zero chance of true escape; but that hasn’t stopped you in the past
“Rubes. They’d s-save their own skins, so that’s all they expect.”
>Not so long ago, they’d be right; but this is bigger than you now, bigger than any one pony
>Examining the parallel space more closely, you recognize a few of the ponies within; all of them engineers, none of them currently seated at their stations
>A large circular console juts out of the room’s center, exploding with ancient apparatuses, switches and dials so out of date that your grandmother would’ve called them used goods
>This is one of the oldest intact parts of the original mining facility, after all, some of the technology even predating the discovery of the New Maker’s Handbook, back when modern ponykind was left to their own devices in reverse-engineering the Makers’ miracles
>Still, you know how to use it; so long as it’s retrofitted with a modern drive port, which you spy as part of a mainframe laptop attached to the more robust equipment, the contents of the pen drive will be easy to upload and relay
>Easy, but time-consuming; as soon as you bust in this door, you don’t know what might come for you
“No sense in waiting for them to come to me.”
>With one fell swoop, you brandish your pistol and swing the door wide, attracting the attention of all eight of the ponies beyond the threshold
“NOPONY MOVE!”
>A stubby, red-maned stallion close to you stumbles forward, but you’re too quick
>One good look at the barrel of your gun, as well as your burning red eyes looking fiercely back into his, sends him spiraling backwards over a chair
“Everypony to the back wall, NOW! No sudden movements, or I won’t hesitate!”
>The grunts are quick to comply, scrambling into a great huddle between two large secondary terminals
>Immediately, as you move towards the central console, it becomes clear what had been distracting the whole team: the smooth, venomous voice of Minister Black Bar echoing tinnily over the intercom

>>41433657
>{“—through any defenses we might throw at them, so remain vigilant should one approach. These are intelligent, cautious, and learned creatures, so take extraordinary care in dealing with them. Again: I speak directly to you, Lucky Clover, when I say this. Stealth is not an option. You will submit yourself to OI force, which will treat you with summary justice befitting one who has committed a crime against the state. You will not be harmed if you come quietly; far from, your contributions to OI itself have been considered, and despite past dealings, you would be enabling for yourself a far more positive future in submitting to the law, and allowing the proper precautions to take place. Whatever the...”}
>And on, and on, and on
>Bastard... you can’t afford to give him another thought
>They find you here, and you’re dead, that’s all there is to it; you can only hope that by “them,” Black Bar means that Pink hasn’t yet been apprehended
>Wasting no time, you activate the mainframe, sliding the pen into its drive port and navigating through layers of automated firewalls
>”Hay! You can’t...”
“Shut it!”
>Splitting your attention between the engineers and the screen isn’t ideal, but it’s preferable to letting one of them get the drop on you
>First things first... the sliding doors leading into the comms station from the main artery of Alpha Sector can be mechanically locked at the touch of a button in case of emergencies... this is certainly an emergency, so you lock them up tight
>Now for the harder part: an inhibitor program... automated shutdown, bypassed with a script... a severed connection to the console, rerouted trivially
>All along, that droning voice over the speaker drowns out all but your most primal thoughts; try as you might, you can’t escape the words
>{“There are very few ponies out there capable of hiding their existences from me. Far fewer who can do it right under my muzzle. Your employer did a stand-up job erasing you from the public record... or was that your work”}
>Click, clack, government-issued devices are shockingly easy to deal with, certainly easier than some of the more advanced private systems
>{“I’ll admit, you had me convinced... not of your innocence, of course. I knew from the start there was a mole in our midst, and once I did manage to deduce your identity, it was only a matter of waiting for you to make your move. The gamble down in Omega Sector was certainly something, and it’s a shame poor Inspector Comet Tail had to pay such a heavy price for it. We had him pegged for your knowing accomplice, at the very least, so there was a handy bit of trickery.”}
>With most of the security measures disabled, it’s just a matter of compiling the data contained on the pen drive and converting it to a format this old equipment is capable of broadcasting over long distances

>>41433660
>No invisible signal riding this time; it all goes in one big blast, the Chancellor’s secrecy be damned
>This is already a national incident, so why not make it a little more fun?
>{“But you HAD convinced me of one thing, Lucky Clover: your willingness to play ball with the powers that be. There is a hierarchy in this world, a pyramid of information beyond anypony’s reckoning. Information which, if revealed, would shake the foundations of this nation we’ve worked so hard and so long to build from nothing but ashes. I thought you’d be a better judge as to the shape of that pyramid, the direction that information flowed. Security, Clover. Isn’t that what I tried to impress upon you? Security, mutual self-defense, that is the main-mast of this device we call power. Knowledge of one’s surroundings, in the animal sense. But it seems...”}
[DEVICE PAIRED WITH RELAY BOOTH 1.1 CENTRAL. PARSING FOR CORRUPT FILES...]
>{“...it seems that your judgment was misguided. Or maybe... maybe something worse. Maybe it was idealistic. It doesn’t matter much now. After all, it’s most ponies’ naive assumption that the greatest power on this earth is that which names itself the greatest power.”}
[LOCAL FILES AUTHENTICATED. PROCEED WITH UPLINK CODE... IP 23.976.100.01 AUTHENTICATED.]
>{“I only thought you were better than that. I thought you had seen, down there, where the greatest power really lies. Or are you looking at it right now? Can you see it, in all its digital glory?”}
[MESSAGE CONTENTS :: PLEASE CONFIRM ATTACHMENTS.]
>You read over the message you hurriedly typed into the console one last time, ensuring that the information contained within will satisfy:

COMPROMISED
SEND HELP NOW
OMEGA SECTOR INFILTRATED
PINK GONE

>You can’t risk this process taking any longer than it already has; you’ll have to choose just a hoofful of images to send along with the message, maybe just one
>You scroll through the uploaded files, one particular image catching your eye: the sphere in all its glory, surrounded by supercomputers and all the pony culprits of its creation
>One final time, you look at it, wanting to understand despite yourself, wanting to play a grander part in all... this
>This noise, this story
>{“Or are you content with looking away? Sending it on, to somepony who wants that glory for himself? I know you, Lucky Clover. I’ve seen so many of you. You don’t seek power, or even information, for yourself. No, you seek... heh, to survive. To live in a world that hates you. That wants you dead and broken and forgotten. Sometimes, there’s only one way out of the maze you’ve built around yourself, and that’s to go through. See past the illusions and the lies. I see you, Clover.”}
>File attached, system ready, all you have to do is—
>”I see you right now.”
>Black Bar’s voice is muffled, but it didn’t come from the intercom

>>41433663
>Your attention is shifted away from the monitor, away from your hostages, for mere moments as you sense movement outside the main portal to the bridge
>A dozen heavily armed site guards, planting flashing devices all around the edges of the door
>Black Bar himself, positioned well behind them, staring darkly at you while gripping a microphone
>They move away; the button is there, you just have t—
BLAAAMMMMMMMMMMMM
>Dust chokes the room, blinding you again
>The force of the explosion didn’t reach the console, but that didn’t stop you from bracing yourself automatically
>One second too late
>Fast hoofsteps grow louder from behind you, and before you know what’s happening, a red mane fills your vision and thrusts clean into your jaw
>”RRRAHHHHHHHH!!!”
>You shove the short engineer away, pain radiating out of your muzzle and throat; there’s blood on your hooves, either yours or his
>Hell, it could be Comet Tail’s; you can’t be sure of anything anymore
>The stallion kicks himself back up, swings a rolling chair at your head, but you see it coming this time
>There’s a report, a flash, and suddenly what was once a teeming ball of rage is now a limp body splayed across the hard floor
>Your gun... you fired without even thinking about it
>You killed somepony... you... did... this...
>”Stop him!”
>”Don’t let him—”
>There are no thoughts in your head, at least not conscious ones
>Something moves your body forward, whipping it around to face your next attacker
>A horde of glossy shapes bearing down on you with murderous intent, weapons rising and falling, smoke billowing in the vague arcs of movement
>The button is still there, still flashing
>”Shoot the—”
>”NO! WE NEED HIM ALIVE!”
>Your hoof falls, slamming down into the keypad with a desperate finality
>You can only watch as instinct compels you to look, to watch as something unbelievable happens
>Your efforts...
>They weren’t in vain
>On the monitor, a single line remains:
[MESSAGE SENT :: 11:36:34. FILES SUCCESSFULLY TRANSMITTED. AWAITING INPUT...]
>It’s something to behold, truly, something to rival the stars beyond all this din, the vital, sanguine red rock encircling that endless night
>Here... here in this godless place, at the edge of the world...
>Within instants, a tremendous weight crushes all the air out of you in a terrible wheeze
>At least six guards trample you, pinning you to the floor, gritting their teeth with primeval malice
>It’s like something out of a dream, or an ancient memory; predators gorging themselves on prey
>Then, what’s left of your fading vision is dominated by the hefty form of Black Bar, peering down at you with dark eyes bereft of a soul

>>41433671
>”This is my way out of the maze, Lucky Clover. This is what your Chancellor has forced me to do. Like a cornered animal, I must pounce with a final desperation.”
>You expel another long, broken sigh, followed by a voice which barely resembles your own
“What... the hell... is it? The... sphere?”
>Black Bar grins that unsettling goatish grin, chuckling as if to some private joke whose punchline only he knows
>”The Ovum, you mean? It could be the future of life as we know it. Or it could mean its annihilation. I can’t look into the future like some in this world, Lucky Clover. But I know power when I see it.”
>You struggle against the darkness, desperate to keep your eyes open
>”Remember, alive. Don’t squeeze the life out of him, for Celestia’s sake.”
>But the crush of hooves overwhelms you, the numbness of their grip, and the fading cacophony of voices a world away
>”Otherwise, I’m afraid it’s all for nothing.”
>With a sigh, the breath leaves your body, and...
>Sleep finds you
>The type
>Without
>
>Dreams
>
>

******

Welp, that's it for now. I've already started working on the next update. Hopefully it won't be as massive as this one, though the one after that... let's just say I have a choice between once again splitting at a potentially huge cliffhanger, or just dumping everything at once. Please let me know if you all would prefer one over the other. I hope you're all still enjoying the story. Cheers!

>>41433680
Hell yeah. Good to see you back in action Sol. I think I lean slightly more in favor of the cliffhanger for better release pacing,

We're so back bros

Stories updated in the last thread (#92):

Shape Your Home (#deca.mare, posted in NMP) (Ponegreen)
>https://ponepaste.org/477 https://ponepaste.org/478 https://ponepaste.org/479 https://ponepaste.org/480 https://ponepaste.org/4581 https://ponepaste.org/8319
>End of the last update: >>41332718

Voidborne (Writefag_Is_Kill)
>https://ponepaste.org/7604
>End of the last update >>41332718

Last updated in thread #91:
Untitled. Robot ponies don't know they are robots and they are trying to reach space.
>End of the last update: >>40915546

Last updated in thread #90:
The Swirling Menagerie (Solanon !H9HspSG49U)
>https://ponepaste.org/4272 https://ponepaste.org/4285 https://ponepaste.org/4286 https://ponepaste.org/8537
>End of the last update: >>40601362

Last updated in thread #89:
Preservation of Innocence (Wall-o-Text)
>https://ponepaste.org/user/Wall-o-text
>End of the last update >>40330292

Last updated in thread #86:
Anon clueless about how cars work.
>No paste.
>Start here: >>39869470

Last updated in thread #85:
TiM (My Idea of a Good Time)
>https://ponepaste.org/4160 https://ponepaste.org/4161
>End of the last update: >>39594374

>>41433680
Welcome back, king.

>>41434416
Okay, so linking to Solanon's post and NOT linking to the OP when put together gets past the filter. Not a great solution, but whatever.
>>41434416
>>41431332

>>41434419
Hey if it works it works

>>41433680
>Solanon still alive
Now that's some good news.

>>41434416
Having the links in the op posts makes searching for greens years later easier.

>>41436351
Ahh! You found the secret to my immortality!

>>41432697
Hopefully many. This thread could use some traffic.

>>41436355
Clone bodies they upload their minds to, or are those rejuvenation tanks?

>>41437171
The latter, I guess. Simply because clones don't grow any regalia.

>>41437879
Fair enough

>>41436351
Looking at Twilight's surprised expression, this doesn't look like one of her projects.

>>41438348
Or she is surprised that it worked.

>>41438348
Nah she's surprised the clones are growing their regalia

File: 1633019893296.gif (124 KB, 1024x658)

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bump

>>41431332
WE BACK BABY

>>41439202
>The regalia of the princesses are in reality organic extensions of their bodies
Not sure if that would be weird as fuck or hot as fuck.

>>41440884
I wonder what they would use Sweetie Bot for.

>>41441200
I think Jawas usually just sell their droids

>>41441200
hopefully not scrap parts

>>41441786
I don't think she would allow that to happen.

>>41442472
Droids are programmed to obey living sentient creatures. Except when instructed otherwise.

>>41441200
If it was Rarity instead I know what I'd do

>>41443167
Being the example that prompted the do not fist the androids warning sign?

File: chasing a dream.gif (1.14 MB, 500x355)

1.14 MB GIF

>>41443228

File: 1720909027490846.png (1.16 MB, 1024x1024)

1.16 MB PNG

Technology makes horses.
What a time to be alive.

>>41444241
wow what a picture. thank you for sharing

>>41443667
Personally I'd try upgrading her with at least some silicone toys before I just rawdog her mechanical gears but you do you.

>>41445932
I'd hope for something better than mere silicone

>>41446287
Artificially created biomatter?

>>41446662
That would certainly be fantastic

>>41443667
At least you can now do it again without the fear of losing another limb.

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Would the buildings become mundane and soulless if ponies were built them like humans do?

>>41447917
50/50, I wager. Look at Manehattan in the show. Some look more pleasing than others, aesthetically speaking.

>>41447518
True

>>41448209
Oh, that exists.

>>41449731
I have yet to read Friendship is optimal.

>>41449731
A little bit too big to would.

>>41450310
I'd still be tempted to try

>>41450890
I dont think she would even notice

>>41451206
If she's CelestAI, she does. She notices all of her little ponies.

File: GUtDi8TXEAA5vPb.jpg (12 KB, 176x176)

12 KB JPG

I checked, the “flying boats” are in fact aeroplanes, I give one, their Antonov 222 the possibility to be bigger than ponyville-centre.

>i'm simplificating
“flying boats” if you attach floaters to an aeroplane it doesn't becomes a boat, Applejack had an accident with her truck, she ended in the river, it floated for 20km. it isn't a boat.

>okay we have buildings taller than Manehattan skyscrapers.

*stare at anon* Which ones
>Burj Khalifa
*frowns at anon* they're the people who destroyed two buildings of yours. still smaller than the crystal palace, 1.1kilometre. there's one made of carbon allotrope. Diamond, in manehattan at 900m high.

>okay, we may have been on the moon or inb spa-
Anon, you've been on the moon, you can go anywhere in three dimensions using enough explosives as fuel, it's physics. it's a law. PinkiePie wrote it.

>okay then electricity everywhere? internet?
we have electricity we just don't pay monthly fees for it. Also internet. What do you want internet for in a place like this.
>well, it's
Anon.

Anon....

>>41451650
Bucking of the future.

>>41451650
God I want that so badly

>>41453427
design files are available
you can 3d print it

>>41450171
Do it. It's an interesting read.

>>41454331
Its in my queue. Along with 100 other.

>>41454630
>Along with 100 other.
I know that problem.

>>41455640
Companion huh? What can you do?

>>41455640
kiss kiss kiss

>>41457269
The weak should fear the strong

>>41457269
Is that Scootaloo meeting her older self?