Alone in a world, with millions of souls, Walking in circles, trapped in their dreams, unhealthy, unclean Walking in Circles, now, do not disturb, scream in silence, everyone’s sleeping- Walking in Circles, Dead by Sunrise

Prologue [Written by Blaze]:

The pony race and humans have lived together in harmony for centuries. A peaceful race, the ponies never really felt the need for war or violence to solve world problems. Things always seemed a lot friendlier with the ponies involved. Only recently have ponies been integrating into the modern human society. Ponies have lived in isolated, calm lands for many generations, but with over-population becoming a risk for the equine communities, moving from Canterlot to Newark was a common occurrence in these times.

Through warfare and species-exclusive diseases, humans have begun a steady decline in population and general health. The ways humans have destroyed the world around them, through pollution, greed and unhealthy living conditions, have led the humans to realize the error of their ways, but it had been too late.

Ponies, being a hardy, largely pacifistic folk, had slowly become the majority in world population (but only just so). It was becoming clear the time of the human was coming to a close. Soon, scientists of both human and pony worked together to create a formula to, in a sense, "ponify" a human, and hopefully keep society from collapsing. Their long term plan was to start a thriving, pony-centric world for generations to come.

In this interim period, humans were plagued with mass confusion and doubt as to what to do. Most humans understood the decline in the population, and would much prefer to be a pony. With a down-to-earth, carefree lifestyle, the possibility of flying or using magic to their advantage, and current human health problems a thing of the past, what could possibly go wrong? However, some people have shown some second thoughts.

The Conversion Bureau: Guardian Chronicles

Written by Notorious/Jack Anarchy

Based on Blaze’s Fan-fic The Conversion Bureau

[Tags: Mild-Grimdark, Violence, Mild-Language, Adventure]

Episode 1: A World Forsaken

Location: New York City

Time: Unknown

Year: Unknown

        Tell me...

        Is this the world you fought for?

        BOOM!

        He felt the very earth tremor beneath his feet as he dragged the worn out soles of his dirt-stained loafers upon the cracked asphalt beneath him. The never-ending ringing in his ears renewed with every deafening explosion that rocked the city landscape followed by the wrenching sounds of twisting metal and blocks of shattered concrete echoed through the city blocks. The once mighty skyscraper crumbled to pieces upon the already devastated streets below, dispersing a thick cloud of dust and debris rushing through the battle torn streets.

        As his footsteps grew heavy and so did his breaths, the clenching tightness in his chest made breathing a true effort, his lungs suffocated from the clouds of dust that lingered in the air. Half awake, he stumbled forward though fortunate enough to regain his balance as his shoulder came in contact with a pillar, half destroyed from the explosion barely minutes ago. His vision blurred, caught between the world of the living and the gentle caress of blackness that allured him so. He shook his head from side to side, feeling it would be wise to linger for a short breather in hopes it would restore his sense of composure.

        The young man’s jittery hand began to shift, inching his fingers sluggishly in the direction of the blood soaked bandanna bounded tightly around a gash on his right arm. He clutched it gently yet firmly as if reminiscing on an onslaught he had barely survived by the skin of his teeth. However, try as he might, the answers he sought in the depths of his memories were non existent. What happened? How did he get here? The roar of a sonic boom instinctively directed his gaze to the chaotic horizon above and there reflected whithin his hazel eyes behind those thin framed, cracked lenses he saw.

        The skies lit ablaze with bright flashes, whether beams of bright plasma or magic it was hard to tell perched so far on the ground. There were hundreds of them, an ocean of both humans and Pagasi locked in an intense aerial dogfight across the endless vista. The bright blue skies tarnished by the ominous black clouds looming overhead, casting a dark, ominous veil upon once bustling metropolis. It was then, the young man caught a quick glimpse of bright flash of neon. He felt the adrenaline course through his veins, his muscles tensed, his teeth gritted tightly  as his legs bucked, leaping out of the way just a violent beam streaked right past him.

        It missed but was it luck it strayed barely several feet away from him? That it exploded on impact upon hitting the wreckage of a car behind him, reducing it to pieces in a blink of an eye? The young man picked himself up, struggling to steady himself on his own two feet. As of now, those question are all but relevant, he had to keep moving, he had to. His goal, his mission remained a mystery, all he knew is that he had to.

        Why do you continue to deny who you truly are?

        Heaven knows the last time he laid eyes on the sun or feel the gentle caress of the morning rays upon his dirt stained cheeks. Heck, he could barely recall bits and pieces of a place once called ‘The City of Dreams’ before all Hell broke loose. The voices of its citizens, the scent of coffee roasting in a café, the taste of a hotdog from a sidewalk vendor. They were all but images and fragments of a world that used to be. When did the world succumb to Devil’s sanity? When did war become the one and only solution for the human race? Where did we all go wrong?

        The scarlet tie that donned the collar of his shirt swished violently in the harsh zephyr coursing through the war torn city streets. He straightened his tattered lab coat, once bleached white now stained and begrimed with muck, grime and patches of dried blood. He brushed his medium length ebony hair to the back to clear the view from his eyes, widening yet again as his arm made a quick effort to shield them, gritting his teeth as he turned away from yet another explosion. This time a lime green beam making contact with the building on his right, sending small bits of concrete and metal in every direction. He coughed as he was engulfed in yet another cloud of dust and debris.

Peace is but an illusion, your efforts are futile

        Was Lady Luck watching over him? Maybe it was something more but he knew that came a little too close for comfort. Through squinted eyes barely being able to make out ten feet in front of him, the young man continued onwards, trying his best to navigate through the piles of rubble and the twisted wreckage of vehicles that littered the road he walked. But rubble was not the only thing that littered the streets, the young man knew this too well. Forced to turn an oblivious eye to the bloodied, torn and mutilated corpses of both human and the four legged equines lying lifelessly upon sidewalk.

        Scattered across the urban landscape, like the snarls of the hounds of Hell were mechanical grindings of hundreds of humans clad in bulky futuristic battle armor brandishing weapons, far more advanced than anything the modern world has yet to see. The streets were reduced to anarchy, lit ablaze with flurries of laser like blasts, every beam with the potential of tearing through rock, metal and even flesh and bone as if it were made of paper.

        They towered over the ponies, taking the form of soulless, war mongering beasts. Their blood red eyes glowing ominously with a gaze borne by Death himself with the sounds of heavy breathing resonating from behind their emotionless metal helmets. They had one mission and one mission alone, exterminate the Pony race and the traitors along with them and they will do it without restraint, without opinion and most definitely without mercy.

        The Ponies, like Trojan warriors bore hardened war armor of bright gold and silver. The unicorns returning fire with magic, manipulating the elements and bending them to their advantage. Fire, water, earth, anything they could use to break through the thick pieces of metal that protected their nemesis. The Earth ponies joined the fight, mustering their skills in crudely constructed war machines and armored vehicles doing their best to strengthen their defences. They fought valiantly but deep down inside they bore a sense of reluctance within their eyes with the unicorns being forced to use magic to induce harm for the very first time.

        They were once peaceful race, war and violence were nonexistent, merely forgotten texts written in books left to stack on shelves of a library. Now they do what comes naturally to all living things, whatever it takes to ensure ones survival. The Pagasi took their battle to the skies, with blades and all manner of aerial weapons at their disposal, engaging the humans outfitted with metallic wings and jet packs.

         Everywhere they turned bore unspeakable chaos and carnage, through magic, guns and cold steel wielded by the hands of men against the magic and tenacity of the Ponies they were bent on exterminating. Cries, yells, curses, and growls, too many and too loud to separate from likes of man and equines the ruthless battle raged on. The earth beneath them ran red with crimson from mangled corpses of their fallen comrades.

        It was like a show reel of terror and horror, in the skies Pagasi having their wings shredded by those beams, their limbs being torn, slashed to mere chunks of pastel flesh before falling to their graves. Ponies having their bodies ripped in half, their remains scattered upon the walls, screaming in horror as the gurgling cries of their brethren being taken apart with the revving of a chainsaw blade. But for the humans did not leave unscathed, their cries and screams were just as blaring, as they were burned alive, shocked, impaled, crushed while being  trapped within those suits which would soon become their graves.

        The Ponies had tenaciously held their ground, however with every fallen human; five more would take his place as if they were wrathful souls born of Hell. Their minds only saw blackness as their eyes saw nothing but the redness that drenched the armor they bore. Gone was the fear, gone was their concern for their well being for now they acknowledged no friend, no ally. Nothing but the undying flames of hatred and the sights of an enemy who will be subjected their wrath. However, the Ponies had no intention of submitting to their murderous whims, even as they were shot, slashed, hammered, stabbed, bruised and even killed, they were determined to give the humans one battle they will never forget.

The Guardians cannot save you now, you can’t even save yourself

        It felt like a decade had passed before his footsteps came to a stop. He had no reason to be where he was at that very moment, but somehow he knew that this was the place, his final destination. The young man lifted his head, recognizing the fact he was at the junction of Broadway and Seventh Avenue, The Crossroads of The World they call it, the remnants of what was once the pride of New York, Times Square. His breaths were heavy, his legs were barely holding up, his body felt weak and drained as if worn by battles past. Everything was a blur, what was he doing here? Was there something waiting for him?

        It was then, like a dark, menacing aura coursed through his very body, through his veins, bones and flesh as he barred his teeth at the specter that stood before him. He can tell it was a young man no older than he was but he adorned an armor far different from that of the other humans. It looked more like a well fitted suit, drawing a certain inspiration from the real of fantasy, as if he came straight out of a graphic novel.

        From his helmet, to his shoulder pieces, the gauntlets that adorned his arms and his legs, shining with glimmering, polished glint of bright gold. His eyes hidden behind a visor that shone with an almost malicious glint of crimson and young man sensed the air grow heavy with an intent to kill. But the one thing that caught his attention the most was the odd, yet bulky buckle that lay fastened to his waist.

        The ebon colored device, about five inches across and three inches wide bore a red gem glowing in the middle, bearing an uncanny resemblance to the likes a camera. Strange runes or marking were engraved in a circle around the gem and he could only assume the strange symbols stacked in threes on the left and right did not represent the Elements of Harmony.

        Gripped within his hand was the maliciously, yet futuristic shaped hilt of a long magnificent katana. The mechanical parts of parts of the silver blade glowed luminously in a dim yellow tint, its blade dripped with the crimson liquid of life. Whether it came from the body of a human or a pony, the young man could already deduce that person before him was no friend or ally.

“Do you see?” a voice resonated from behind the helmet in an almost daunting tone.

        The young man was silent, his eyes narrowed in intimidation.

        “I once told you, old friend, the human race is incapable of love and understanding, birthed into a cradle of hatred, wrath and despair. Upon their exile, Earth had been their salvation, their sanctuary and yet these sinful beings pillaged, butchered and raped it at their every whim”

        “Humans know no peace, they know no mercy, all they crave is the euphoria of death and the intoxication of destruction. Now, at long last, after decades of war and meaningless bloodshed the day of reckoning has arrived. Watch... watch as their twisted reality falls to ruin, tremble their very existence heads down an endless spiral to oblivion. May their gods help them all,” he said, walking nonchalantly in the direction of the young man.

        “Now do you see? How your so called mission was but a lie. Your beliefs, your convictions were all but lies, The Guardians had deceived you and YOU in turn deceived the very ones you longed to protect. Harmony? Friendship? What a load of bull! Now they pay dearly for your delusions, all because you couldn’t accept the truth!” he exclaimed, his finger pointed in accusation.

“And what is the truth?” the young man finally spoke.

        The young man in the armor lifted his sword, the tip of the blade brandished in his direction. “That you were never meant to save the human race, you were meant to destroy it,”

It was then, a rather odd smirk began taking shape upon the young man’s face. “Then tell me this, my ‘old friend’…,” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice though pausing for a moment with the intention of catching the attention of the armored one.

        “When did you forsake yourself?” he asked.

        The young man in the armor stood motionless as if deep in thought, a moment of silence then ensued but only to be broken by a slow yet menacing chuckle began came from behind the golden helmet, raising his armored hand to font of his face, the tip of his fingers touching the likes of his forehead as if amused by the man’s question.

         “I see, you never fail to amaze me. Bloodied, beaten and bruised, standing amongst the ruins of a world that will soon come to pass, you continue to hold onto your ludicrous delusions. I don’t know if I should commend you on your faith, or feel sorry for you” said the man in the golden armor.

        The young man chuckled coarsely and weakly. He then looked straight into those soulless, malevolent blood red eyes, bearing a warm yet gentle smile.

        “That is what makes me... human”

        “Human....,” said the man in the golden armor before scoffing under his breath. “Well then, with a statement like that, it would be rude of me not to grant you the honor of dispatching you to the Advent Void myself,” the man in the armor said, lifting his sword before twirling it violently in his hand, the jet like sounds of solid metal slicing through the air before he resting it upon his shoulder.

        The young man gave a soft chuckle, his fingers struggling to reach for his broken glasses before gently removing it in his softly trembling hand. “Twilight… forgive me” he whispered, allowing the thin frame to slip from his hands, the lenses shattering to little pieces as it came on contact with the asphalt beneath him.

        With was left of his strength, he raised his right fist in the direction of the man in the armor. His left hand pulled back on the long sleeve, he revealed a golden bracelet engraved with intricate runes adorned cerulean gem. It was at that moment, it started to glow as brightly as the northern star in a blinding blaze of azure. Thrusting his hand to the sky, a bright blue orb of pure energy appeared within the palm of his hand as he whispered…

“Gone and returned through time”

        His voice seems to echo at the very mention of those words, at the exact moment the ground beneath his feet began to glow. An incredible magical circle expanded at his feet, circling on its axis was glyphs and symbols of unknown origins. The rattling sounds of vibrating metal grew louder as it was dragged across the asphalt, drawn by the immense power of the glowing orb in his hand.

        Suddenly, the pieces of metal levitated violently in his direction, disintegrating into small compact pieces at it began to circle the orb, melding together to form a large bulky, white buckle which bore an uncanny resemblance to its black twin with the exception it bore six of the the symbols that represented the Elements of Harmony, three on each side.

        As if by instinct, the young man spun it in his hand before slapping it to his waist, a belt magically appearing in a flash of light as it secured it to his waist. Reaching down, he pulled o the sides of the buckle, causing it to unfasten itself with the white buckle rotating 90 degrees upwards to the left. “Standing by” came a male voice with a sense of fortitude, resonating from that of the buckle.

        Now what? What should he do next? Then once again, as if guided by pure instinct, he thrust his hand forward with a single motion, and like magic, another magical circle appeared with a set of six card materializing in a single flipping motion with a pinkish, almost purplish flash of neon. By impulse, he grabbed one of the floating cards before him and the moment he did, the other vanished in a gentle flash of light.

        A card? His hazel eyes studied the picture of head shot, adorned in an intricate fantasy inspired battle helmet illustrated its smooth, glossy surface. His gaze then shifted downwards to the white buckle, suddenly noticing the apparent thin slot before him. At that moment, he knew what to do and what he had to do.

        “Let’s do this” he said, holding up the card before slicing it swiftly into the card slot with a single motion.

        “A.D.V.E.N.T Guardian…” said the voice from the buckle.

        “Engage!” he cried, with the same single swift movement, the young man shut the sides of the buckle, locking it into place.

         A smaller crimson magical circle expanded from the gem in the middle bearing the words “Drive Engage” just as the larger one beneath his feet expanded. Like magic,six symbols representing the Elements of Harmony manifested around him, drawn to his body as it crystallized in an armor of light.

        Then suddenly, it shattered revealing glistening jet black suit of armor, like the young man before him, bearing a design influences borne of fantasy and magic. From his helmet, the gauntlets that adorned his arms and legs, the suit was intricate and unique with the exception of the visor that glowed with a gleam of bright blue.

        “Ho…” said the young man in the golden armor, feigning as sense of impression. He spun his sword yet again, this time however, he twirled it within his fingers as if taunting the young man from before but to no avail. Raising his hand, the same circle of cards appeared, with the exact single flipping motion, grabbing hold of of one of the materialized cards within his fingers as the young man pulled opened the buckle yet again.

        “Final Form Drive…” said the voice from the buckle.

        Sliding his card into the buckle, he proceeded to shut the buckle, the same magical circle, this time taking an ember tint appeared from the gem in the middle as the word “ANIMA!” was both illustrated and mentioned by the voice, following soon after. It was then, another magical circle appeared behind the young man, the rattling of chains grew loud as from the depths of the glowing glyphs, a large beast bounded in chains began to appear, as if it crawled out from the deepest, darkest past of Hell itself. It stood almost as tall as the four storey building behind them, fangs barred in viciousness from its nightmarish appearance would make any sane person tremble and petrify in fear.

        But he man in the golden armor merely gave a rather mischievous smirk behind that helmet of his.

        “Alright, I’m game” he said, reaching down to his own buckle as he he opened it in the exact same fashion, the words “Final Form Drive…” was heard, but this time from the voice of a female.

        The same exact magical circle appeared with the circle of six cards appeared, this time with a yellow glint of neon. Grabbing hold of one of his cards, he slotted it in with a single motion and slapped it shut.

        “OBELISK!”

        A magical circle appeared beside him, this time like magic, a large majestic white suit of armor standing at the exact same height of the beast before him made it apparent. The armor or more precisely, the creature brandishing a long lance and a shield, its long royal blue cape waved gently in the wind.

        “This is the end for you, old friend. Perish a fool and take your ludicrous dreams and ideals of peace to Hell with you!” he said, his hand reaching down to his waist as he slid open his buckle.

        “Final Attack Drive…”

        The young man in the black armor raised both his arms as the glowing outlines of a pair of weapons began tracing itself over them, even on that of his legs. Within a second, they took the form of a pair of gauntlets, bounded in chains, black as the raven’s back.

        “I told you once before, heed my words. As long as the magic of the Guardians continue to flow through my veins, as long I my soul remains untainted and my body unbroken…” the young man said, reaching down to slide open his buckle in the same exact manner just as a card appeared in his right hand.

        “Final Attack Drive…”

        “Then may Celestia have mercy on the fools who would stand in my way!” he roared, sliding in the card and shutting the buckle.

        “A, A, A, ANIMA!”

        “Come then! Strike me down with with all you have I will return this hatred a thousand fold!” the young man cried in return, slicing in his very own card before slamming his buckle shut.

        “O,O,O, OBELISK!”

        It was as if hands of time had crawled to the bare fractions of a second the moment the two warriors broke out in relentless charge. The ground shattering from the moment they left the patch of asphalt where they stood barely moments ago. The magical beasts they had summoned charged alongside their masters into the glory of battle to the death and beyond.

        “WAKE UP! ANIMA!” the young man yelled, and heeding the command of its master, the creature in chains began glowing in a bright purplish glow, transforming into a blazing ball of light.

        Zipping frantically in mid air before entering the pair of gauntlets mounted on the young man’s arm. The metallic shattering of chains could be heard the moment the gauntlets unsealed itself, followed by the menacing mechanical whirring of blades of a chainsaw being emitted from both his arms and legs.

        But the young man in the golden armor brandished his blade, twirling it at sonic speeds as he cried “RELEASE! OBELISK!”. Just like the beast before, the white metal suit of armor transformed into a blazing ball of red light, entering the golden katana.

        The blade glowed beautifully for a brief moment, strange runes creeping from the hilt arranging itself along the length of the blade, glowing bigger as it did. Then shattering like pieces of glass, revealing a massive blade about seven feet long.

        They both broke out into a long battle cry, both driven by their own beliefs and their own sense of justice and righteousness. Their eyes narrowed, teeth barred, their throats grew coarse with the long, harsh battle cry. Their fists tightened, they knew for a fact that this was it, here is where it all ends. But just what have they truly been fighting for? Was it for the Ponies? Was it for the Human race? Their reasons were their own, and here at the end of it all, only one will prevail.

        “AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!”

        The very moment their auras collided, in a split second the very earth beneath their shattered with an incredible burst of power. As pieces of asphalt, scrap metal and debris lifted into the air, though the fractions of the grains of time, he saw it, every move, every motion of the massive katana slicing though the air. The deadly rotating chains on his gauntlet shifted into overdrive, his fingers curled tightly into fists as he threw his right hand forward in a massive swing. And then came the clash…

        BOOM!

        The clash of energy was so great, so powerful, it engulfed downtown in a dome of light, reducing the nearby building into nothing but piles of rubble. It was an explosion of great magnitude, a grim remembrance to a weapon long utilized and long feared by the human race.

        Perched upon the tallest building in the city, a fair distance from the explosion stood a unicorn. Her coat had seen better days, now sloven and stained with the blood of a race she once called friend. Amongst the battles and carnage that filled the skies around her, all she could do was watch. Tears streamed down the sides of her face, hues of bright purple filled with pain and regret. Then, looking over her shoulder as she mouthed…

        “David… wake up”

        Her whisper echoed and faded into the shadows.

**************

        “ARGH!” David sat up violently in his chair, startled wide awake as he woke up in cold sweat, his heart racing as his breaths grew quick.

        “Dr Lestor, Dr Lestor, you are needed in the Room 23, thank you”

        It took him a full minute to steady his racing heart, his fingers massaged his temple as his mind shimmered with vague loops of images from the final moments of that dream. These dreams... these crazy, stupid, infuriating, meaningless dreams. Night after night was the same, for months these bleary images of war and carnage, New York in ruin, strange creatures called Guardians had haunted him in his sleep.

        The young man groaned in frustration, he was sure his delirium would soon drive  him to the brink of sleep deprived madness. In truth, the whole thing made him sick to his stomach. Magical circles? Mythical Armors? Cards? Advent Drives? It was like a cheesy scene straight out of poorly made B rated action movie, or worse, the result of an overactive imagination fueled with buckets worth of soda pop, candy and Saturday morning cartoons.

        Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he got up from his leather chair as he ran his fingers through his shabby hair before giving his aching body a well deserved stretch, feeling the stiffness muscles beginning to subside. Yet another long and rough night at the hospital, with the place being rather underhanded they had the young doctor running around clock a little too often for comfort.

        He straightened his lab coat and straightened his tie, tardiness was almost nonexistent to the young man but he had to admit, he was a complete and utter mess. He reached for the stacks of paper that lay scattered along his glass table. The digitized words ‘Good Morning Dr Stone’ flashed upon the glassy surface, fading into the background before revealing a layout commonly found on a computer with icons of various shapes and sizes.

        David arranged the stacks of paper but just as he bent down to slide open the drawer under the table, he paused, looking directly at the large photograph used as his desktop wallpaper. It was a picture of him and four other youths, three young men and a young lady, all clearly in their late teens dressed brilliantly in their graduation suits. The words ‘Friends Forever’ and five signatures all draw in gold ink was written in the bottom right corner. The young doctor shrugged, tapping the surface of the table as the image dimmed to black.

        Even after putting away the stacks of paper, he realized the feeling restlessness continued to linger, his mind pondering on the possible questions derived from the strange dream. It just made no sense, that dream, strange buckle, the man in the armor? What did it all mean? Was it a vision? He groaned again, just thinking about it was an invitation for an oncoming migraine.

        Making his way to the window, he pushed aside the green curtain that shrouded the windows, the bright morning rays of the sun made his eyes squint a little. Even ten floors off the ground, he could hear the the sounds of the bustling streets below, the honking of the vehicles caught in traffic, the obnoxious revving of dual T.R.I core engines probably from a rich pretty boy wannabe trying to swoon the ladies nearby with his multi million dollar toy, even the the brief sirens from a passing fire truck. From the holographic signs of bright neon revolving around the towering skyscrapers looped the action packed adverts of the upcoming Superbowl, to the news hover plane that hovered in the skies above. Yes, the world was as it is and not a pile of ruins in the midst of the flames of war. The young man tucked his hands into his pockets, who was he trying to kid?

        Trotting right beside their two legged neighbors, their coats glistened with hues of bright pastel with strange tattoo-like pictures on their flank as made their merry way down the busy streets. A single feather of dark violet a little too large to be a bird made his eyes of bright hazel shifted to the skies above. Zipping through the clouds like brightly colored angels, the Pagasi flew as free as the birds in the sky. It has been five years since they first made their existence known to mankind, these peculiar, horse-like creatures from a distant land having lived in absolutely secrecy and seclusion from the known word.

        They called themselves Ponies, though they bore no resemblance or resemblance to the ‘ponies’ David had seen on his uncle’s farm down in Texas. The young man turned away from the window, instead to the remote lying idly on the glass table. Grabbing hold of it, directed it to the large pane of tempered glass on the wall. With a push of a button, a semitransparent  holographic screen came to life, bearing an image of a newscaster. Jenny Alderan, one of New York’s most beloved anchors..

        “Good morning citizens of New York City, in breaking news, the Conversion Centre down in Brooklyn will now be open 24 hours a day, our beloved Mayor seeks to expand the facility in hopes to accommodate…” she said.

        “Conversion Centres…” David muttered under his breath.

        The Conversion Bureau, Ponyfication, Magic, once he swore he would only hear such words from the old bedtime stories his grandfather used to tell before he came to pass. He always did tell the best stories, tales of magic, mythical beasts like dragons, manticores and warriors of bravery and valor who risked everything to protect the innocent. David spun the remote in the palm of his hand, in the end those were just stories, fantasy. If only the old man could see it now, it was everywhere, in the headlines in the papers, on the big screen, even plastered all over the World Wide Web.

        David was no strange to the long bloody history of the human race and it never fails to fascinate him how they would take such foolish pride in it. History was no history, merely records documenting the savage nature of a species that thrives of violence and destruction. Fanaticism, racism, anarchism, the list goes on. They have spent all their hearts and souls into undoing one other, peace was never a solution amongst even their fellow brethren but in the end it was ignorance and senselessness that disarmed them.

        The world was dying, everyone knew that. Societies were crumbling and the city walls fading into soulless shades of gray. The economy was in shambles, extreme pollution led to new diseases, some which were terminal and crime ran rampant on the streets with New York’s finest doing little to nothing to ease the situation. Worst of all were the politicians, greedy, selfish chunks of lard who did nothing but spout lies in an effort to hide the ugly truth from society. The human race is spiraling to oblivion, wasn’t that what man in his dream said?

        But then, almost a year ago, life took a strange turn for the human race, a ray of hope from a land beyond the sea, Equestria.

        Humans were offered a chance at salvation from the darkness and decay of the world they had laid to waste, to a place of peace and serenity. Like a stairway to Heaven, a world without conflict, pain and suffering, a place where they can start anew and leave their pointless existence behind them. However, like all things great and small, it comes at a price most humans were willing to pay without so much as a second thought, their humanity. David shrugged at the thought.

        Within a year, these ‘Conversion’ centers began popping up all over the country, the first in New York City, then in Miami, Tennessee, even in California. Within a month, thousands of people flocked to these centers, choosing to be ‘ponified’ in hopes of a better life and a better future. It is true, the world changed after those centers opened, everything changed, even for him.

People he used to know, grocers, the delivery boy, the garbage collector with the golden tooth,, even the old woman who used to serve him coffee down the street from the hospital.  One by one, they disappeared from the moment they spoke of their interests in the Bureau, one or two even tried talking him into doing the same. Heaven knows knows where they are now.

        “Now, we go live to City Hall for a press conference with Lieutenant Miguel Estrada, the Director of the Conversion Bureau…” said the newscaster. David snapped to attention at the mention of that name, his eyes shifted to that of the projected image.

        Miguel Constantine Estrada, a name the new world has become most familiar with, specially since he has been making the headlines more and more as of late. There was no question that the man of Hispanic origins, in his mid forties is possibly the second most powerful man next to the President of the United States of America. Though the American people have long wondered what exactly the Conversion Bureau is. Ask anyone off the streets and they will return their simple perception, they are the ones ‘in charge’ of the myriad of centers for human ponification.

        But from the words of Charles Darwin, things have a way of changing and adapting to their surroundings and their situation. The Conversion Bureau of America now functioned as a private organization endorsed by the US government, representing the human race in terms of political ties with the Royal House of Equestria. The citizens of New York city had grown to accept their presence, some convinced the Bureau was the equivalent of an Equestrian Embassy on United States soil. Although some citizens have grown mighty wary of the Bureau, paranoid even but more so intimidated.

        “Mr Estrada, would you care to comment on the recent attacks on the Ponies by the HLF? Is the Bureau doing anything to to stop these heinous hate crimes?” asked the reporter, shifting the microphone to the man before her.

        David recognized him from the countless pictures printed all over the New York Times, draped in his trademark black suit, a white shirt and a red scarf worn around his neck to match. Parts of his face showed signs of wrinkling, a testament to his age although his olive skin seemed a little darker than the young doctor last remembered. The man stood about five and a half feet tall, ran his fingers through his jet black hair for a brief moment, kept short and neat pushing it to the back. His expression remained neutral but David can tell from his dark brown eyes that whatever he was about to say, he would mean every word of it.

        “The recent attacks were indeed horrid and ‘inhumane’, bearing an unfortunate resemblance to the fanatics of yesteryear like the KKK or the Neo-Nazis. Although their chapter leader has denied any involvement in the attacks, rest assured, the Bureau is conducting a thorough investigation and we will bring the ones responsible to justice” he said.

        “But Mr Estrada, is it true that the Bureau uncovered the existence and currently in possession of the Z.O.H.A.R weapons that had been allegedly used in the attack?”

        Z.O.H.A.R weapons? David could see a slight change in his expression but it was too minor for reporter to notice, it was one of his quirks, a slight movement of the right eyebrow. He does this every time he encounters a question he was reluctant to answer. But the man retained his composure her question was calmly answered.

        “We cannot reveal any information of evidence pertaining to the case due to this being an ongoing investigation. Now if you would excuse me, I have a situation in dire need of my presence,” he said, as he took his leave, with reporters on his tail like bloodhounds on a hunt.

        “But Mr Estrada! What about the HLF? What of Pat Maitland? How does the Bureau intend to handle them-,” words cut short as David turned off the screen with a press of his remote.

        HLF… the Human Liberation Front, a sense of disgust grew from the bottom of his heart. Liberation? Freedom? They were nothing but fanatics, having taken a sip from the chalice of insanity. The young doctor recalled the headlines printed on the New York Inquirer, ludicrious lines like “Humans Unite!” or “The End is Neigh!”.

        Day after day, they spewed distortions of lies being turned to truth in hopes that it would unite society as a whole, regardless of religion, beliefs or creed. Having convinced from the start that the human race is on the brink of extinction, accusing the Bureau as traitors to their kind for being a front for a conspiracy to convert and/or annihilate the human race. Just as these Conversion Centers have been popping up all over the country, these ‘Chapters’ or groups have been making themselves known at the exact break neck pace.

        Although it may have started with protests, marches fueled by paranoia and fear as the months passed, the citizens of the city had grown accustomed and generally began accepting of the Conversion Centers and the Ponies as a race. Though most decided to put aside their all differences and learned to live alongside Ponykind, some did not.

         In fact they downright refused to, David has heard all their excuses “It’s against the Bible” or “It goes against God!” banner and slogans exclaimed in religious propaganda, considering the Pony race as abominations and the act of Ponification was that of the Devil’s work. When others preached about violating the ways of their God, some merely hated the Ponies simply for being different. Never once did they cease in their efforts to convince humanity that they were on a road to annihilation.

        Finally after months, being unheard and neglected by the American people and their government, it inevitably escalated, with several groups deciding to take matters into their own hands by condoning violence against the Ponykind. Lynching, assaults and other manner of unspeakable acts were but a few of their crimes. The local authorities were powerless to control the flurry of reported cases, well that is until the Bureau themselves decided that it was time to fight fire with fire.

        David knew little of it, but lately, as extracted from various resources and rumors, upon realizing that things were escalating with reasons for concern, the Bureau established V.AN.G.A.R.D, a private military task force assigned specifically to handle these extremists and those who bore ill intentions against the Ponies. Little is known about them, people who commonly encounter these agents were usually the unfortunate members of the HLF or people who were definitely on the wrong side of the fence.

        However, the city knew they exist, they have seen them in action on the streets but it was strange there was little to no information about how they operate. David was sure the Bureau suppressed any news or reports  made about them. Only rumors like how they seem to posses technology and knowledge in advance military warfare far more advance that of the US military seem to surface as a usual topic for gossip over a cup of coffee. To why they needed such serious hardware to deal a bunch of racist rednecks and religious nut jobs pissed drunk on beer, head deep in the bible or both at the same time was a complete mystery.  

        David leaned against his table, his arms folded before him deep in thought as he tried to digest everything. The dream, the words of Miguel Estrada, the HLF, Z.O.H.A.R weaponry? He sighed, rubbing the side of his temple. It was then, the sound of a bell that hung from the metal doorknob gave a little ring as the face of a bubbly young nurse could be seen peeking through the ample space in the door, dressed in her standard issued uniform with her auburn hair tied neatly in a bun.

“Dr Stone? May I come in?” she asked politely.

        “Delia, please” David said, immediately putting away his concerns as he invited her in. “Care to tell me what’s on the agenda today? Lay it on me, and this time don’t sugar coat it” he said with a smile, half joking.

        “Well, Mr Wilson is here for his nine o’clock, then you have Mrs Keen, for her two o’clock and Dr Leslie said to remind you that you have an additional hour at the clinic later today”

        David groaned deep inside, another hour? To think he was looking forward to finally being allowed to return home after spending almost a week sleeping on couches in the common area and that of the chair in his office, God he was in need of some fresh clothes and most importantly a bath. What wouldn’t he give for a hot shower right now? However, he could not bring himself to cast blame on Dr. Leslie for the additional hours. Being the Dean of the hospital was tough enough without being pressured by the mass resignation and the never ending flood of newly admitted patients. In truth, it was a real understatement when David mentioned they were understaffed.

“So Dr. Stone, if you don’t mind me asking, did you finally find the time to read that Conversion Bureau brochure I gave you the day before?” asked Delia.

        “Hhm? Oh, that, well…” said David, smiling nervously with a sense of reluctance to speak his mind, but the young nurse merely smiled.

        “It’s okay, I understand how busy you have been. You see, I was thinking of dropping by myself. My mom and dad have been ponified, so were my brothers. The whole family intends on moving to Equestria next month and I have been thinking really hard about joining them” she said, smiling as warmly as ever.

        “That’s nice Delia, I’m sure they made the right choice” said David, feeling rather awkward all of a sudden. “If you don’t mind, I think I better get going now, I most definitely don’t want to keep the patients waiting” he said with a nervous chuckle.

        “Oh certainly Dr Stone, just one more thing” she said, holding up a clipboard with several documents. “I just need you to sign here, and here” her fingers pointing to the dotted lines on several pieces of paper.

        The young doctor skimmed through the printed words and signed it without a second thought, he just wanted to get out of there, least away from Delia as quickly as he could.

        Once he was done, he zipped right out of the office, barely hearing what Delia had to say on his way out.

“Have a great day Dr Stone”.

**********

        He could not remember the last time he looked at his watch but he knew from the warmness of the sun’s beams at that hour, it was bright and early. Well, to be more specific it was 8 am to be exact. Time flies when you least expect it, his hazel eyes reflected upon the glossy surface of his watch, both arms indication proclaiming it was now 7 pm. However, David breathed a sigh of relief, his patients had tended to, papers filed and organized, no sirens at the front door and things at the hospital were finally beginning to mellow down.

        It was a good thing too, if he had to listen to another one of Mrs Keen’s cat stories, he swore he would have burst. But in all honesty, David had lost track of the amount of people he had consulted today. Remembering faces gets a tad bit difficult after the thirtieth file or so, however his memory refused to allow him to forget the same constant question brought in by each and every one of them.

"Where is Dr Carlos?”

“When is Dr Maine coming back?”

“What happened to Dr Monroe?”

“How is Dr Sunny?”

        He felt his heart grow heavy, an unfathomable sense of discontent gripped at his bottom of. The footsteps from of his brown leather loafers seem to echo down the once lively hallway. Where were they? When were they coming back? He wished he knew the answers to those questions. No,he knew it all too well, it was just denial on his part. They were gone, more precisely were no longer, well human. Carlos, Maine, Monroe and Sunny, they were the faces on photo which adorned the backdrop of his computer. Why? Because he wanted to remember them as they were and not some pastel byproduct of sorcery or magic.

        To think that fate would have them practicing at the same hospital. They were reputable and respectful doctors and everyone loved them, the staff, their patients. Heck, there was never a dull moment here behind these ivory walls, especially with Carlos around and you know for a fact you could always count of them when the sirens come on. The young doctor gently pushed his glasses over the bridge of his nose before tucking his hands into his pocket, feeling the fading warmth of the sun through the hospital windows as it began to set beyond the horizon. His hazel eyes stared idly at the checkered floor beneath his feet. They were more than just colleagues, No,they were his best friends.

        “I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore David, I’m just not as strong as you are”

        “Everyone I love and care about is gone. I refuse to spend my days alone, I can’t and I won’t. I’m sorry David but this is goodbye”

        “What is your problem David!? Everyone’s doing it, why do you have to be such a jerk!? I came to you cause you’re my friend, I thought you would understand! You know what! Screw it, I’m gone!”

        “Godspeed David, I wish you all the best”

        Did they abandon him? Or was it the other way around? David never truly understood what insanity could bring a person to discard everything that made them who they were, deny their humanity, all for a chance at a slice of heaven from a promised land. His grandfather had always said, struggling and hardships a part of living. Life was never a walk in the park, they knew that, everybody knows that. Fighting is what makes us human, obstacles exist there for a reason and what does not kill you only makes you so much stronger. The world is a dark, cruel place but it prepares you in its own way.

        But now, how can the human race continue to survive, tempted with the knowledge that better, easier alternative exist? An alternative to living? David scoffed, gritting his teeth in frustration. He called them many names, cowards, quitters even to the extent of branding them as traitors. For a while, he even came to think ill of his friends, scorning the very thought that he had shared a bond with those converted ‘things’. He had long banished those feelings of resentment, in the end as much as he hated those supremacists at the HLF, was he any different to begin with?

        The pathway back to his office took him right through the children’s ward. Pediatrics was an interesting subject back in medical school but it was definitely not David’s forte, not to mention children tended had a tendency to touch everything shiny object within their reach which annoyed the heck out of him on a constant basis. It was natural for the young doctor to amble on by, however upon passing by yet another ward, his hazel eyes caught onto something that froze him in his tracks. There, illuminated in the fading light of the setting sun though the partly draped window, laid almost motionless in bed was a child barely six years old.

        David had given up counting the amount of tubes coming from under his blanket, his head made bare from the effects of the countless Chemo sessions. The room was silent, only but the sounds of the electrocardiograph machine beeping in resonance with his heartbeat. David knew the child was done for, Geno Stigma, an abominable, incurable disease which came to light barely three years ago. He can tell from the black, sickly, disfiguring hexagon shaped patches that littered the child’s pale skin. However, what truly caught his attention were the two Ponies by the side of his bed. The boy had trouble breathing, but he smiled a weak smile, his hand gently running through the pink streaked mane of maroon pelted Unicorn.

        “Moom…” he said weakly

        “Yes dear, it’s me. I’m here” the unicorn replied, her eyes brimming with tears.

        The male Pegasus beside her gently placed his wing, his feathers bore a dark blue hue over her trembling frame, trying so hard to hold back the tears. But the boy’s words were too much to take. “Mom… I can see Jesus mom… he says… everything will be alright” he said.

The Pegasus turned away, a single tear trickled down the side of his face. The Unicorn felt bit her bottom lip in grief. “I know hun, I know…” she said weakly.

        “Don’t cry mom… please… I’m not afraid…” the young boy replied. “Mom, dad… I love you…”

        “We love you too son” said the male Pegasus. No sooner than that, the boy felt his eyes grow heavy, and within minutes and a final beep or two, the machine flat lined... he was gone, the smile never faded from his pale lips.

The Unicorn broke down in tears. “Oh GOD! COLIN NO!” she broke down crying, burying her face in neck of the Pegasus.

        David stood there, a strange cold shiver running down his spine, robbing the feeling from the tips of his fingers. He merely stood there, petrified, not a sound even as he was shoved out of the way by another doctor and several nurses rushing past him. He felt nothing, he heard nothing, not even the ear piercing siren that echoed through the hallways or the red lights that flashed overhead.

        He was a doctor, why did he not respond? He could have tried to resuscitate the boy, why didn’t he? The Ponies were forced out of the room, the female had to be dragged by the male Pegasus, screaming through the pain that tore at her heart.

        “CLEAR!” the doctor cried, placing the defibrillator on the young boy’s chest, causing his small frail body to lift an inch off the hospital bed only with the only response being the same monotone flat line on the black screened monitor.

        “CLEAR!” The young doctor could only watch as the doctor did his best, utilizing every known technique he could think of. His lips counting as his hands pumped at the boy’s chest, a pulse, a breath, anything.

        Minutes passed but as relentless as he was, David knew his efforts were futile. With a long remorseful sigh, the doctor finally decided to call it. The mother’s sobs grew louder, drowned in anguish but David gave both the late boy’s parents a rather apathetic gaze

        “I’m sorry for your loss” he said, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose before making his way past them. The mother’s cries began to fade the faster and farther he walked. The young doctor had no intention of looking back, the louder she cried, the quicker his steps became.

        Gritting his teeth, he took off down the hallway, he had to get away from there, he just had to. His footsteps echoed through the now empty hallway and and soon, all he could heard were but his own.  

        The Gino Stigma disease claims yet another victim, bringing the total death count in this hospital alone to about four hundred or so. Those hacks at the science lab were still working on a cure but who were they kidding? Nature did not give birth to this monster, they did, humans did. It was a biological weapon gone wrong, engineered with every intention to ensure a cure would never be found. Confound those war mongering bastards and their military supremacy, why should the young pay for the mistakes of their old?

        His parents were Ponified, that much David can tell. They had every intention of having their son do the same, but they were too late. By that time, the effects would have been too severe, he would not have survived the process. Strangely, Gino Stigma only affected the human race, the Ponies were completely immune to it. Ponifying him could have saved him.

        But why the lingering thoughts? It was not the Ponified parents or even the Geno Stigma virus that had him walking in circles. No, he was trying to avoid the one true question playing on his very. Why? Why did he just stand there watching like a bumbling idiot? Why didn’t he do anything? He could have tried, at least try, may it be futile but he could have tried!

        “Shit!” he cursed under his breath, making a beeline for his office. The words ‘Dr. David Stone’ engraved in gold upon the polished glass door. However, just as he reached for the doorknob, he felt a sudden tap on his shoulder.

        “Guh!” he cried as he spun around startled by the tap. His back was pressed cautiously against the glass door only to realize it had been Delia, the young nurse from before.

        “AH! Oh excuse me” she said, realizing what she had done.

        “Delia, you scared me” said David, his hand placed firmly over his racing heart.

        “I’m sorry Dr Stone, but I just needed to tell you something. You have a visitor” she said.

        As his heart began to ease from from its sudden rapid acceleration, David raised a curious eyebrow. A visitor? Here at this hour? This was rather puzzling, not to mention suspicious as he combed his memory, trying to remember any appointments he may have forgotten today.

“And just in case you were wondering, no he does not have an appointment. He has been waiting in your office since four o’clock” the young nurse added.

        “That’s a long time to be waiting for someone, I’m surprise he hasn’t thrown a fit. Why didn’t you page me?” David asked.

        “He personally requested that you shouldn’t be bothered during your shift and that he would wait patiently for you until you were done”

        David shifted his gaze to the office, hazel eyes narrowed suspiciously for a brief moment. However he eased up, his gaze turning to meet Delia’s baby blue ones. His smiled ever so warmly and gave her a gentle nod.

        “Thanks for the head’s up, I’ll tend to him. You better get back to your shift before Nurse Jackie catches you again. I swear she has it in for the both of us” he said with a chuckle. The young nurse had to hide her blushing face with her clipboard, nodding in acknowledgement before hurrying back to her duties.

        The young doctor straightened his white coat and fixed his black tie, whoever was behind that door, there was little to no reason to greet him with such tardiness.The small ceramic bell rang against the doorknob with the after motion of the opening door.

        There before him stood a man man, dressed in an oddly familiar black suit. Facing the window with his hands tucked behind his back, he stared aimlessly into the distance at the city lights flickering to life as the last rays of sun began disappearing beyond the horizon.

“May I help you, sir?” David inquired, closing the door behind him.

        “Well that depends on you, Dr Stone…” the man said, turning slowly to face the young doctor. At that moment, David felt the exact same cold chill running down the entire length of his spine. His eyes wide open in absolute bewilderment.

        “That depends entirely on you”

(To Be Continued…)