“Maud, darling, are you going to be okay?” Octavia’s face held wrinkles of concern as she spoke. “Maud, please, speak to us, we’re all worried. Just say something, anything, please.” Head turning, she looked at Vinyl, her eyes pleading, and neither mare seemed to know what to do for their distraught friend.

“As long as I live, I’m probably never going to be okay,” Maud said, breaking her silence. “Not with that. Not after almost losing Tarnish that way. I don’t want to talk about it, either. I just can’t. Not now. Maybe not ever. We’ve got a job to do, so let’s just do it and get it over with.”

“I understand, Maud. If something were to take Vinyl from me, I would react poorly.” Octavia pulled away from Vinyl’s side and drew closer to Maud. “Not just Vinyl… but you and Tarnish as well. We’ve become a tight knit little group. Vinyl and I are very fond of the two of you.”

The group lapsed into silence, with Tarnish and Helianthus leading the way through the lifeless empty streets. Vinyl kept the camera rolling, getting as much as she could on film. Helianthus ignored the many distractions, there was so much to see in the old city, and Tarnish kept going to wherever Maledico pointed.

Ahead, something that almost looked like a palace of some sort loomed.

The doors opened with no effort. This seemed like the sort of place to look for a vault, something that the horn would unlock. Not only were greater alicorns fantastic anti-doomsday devices, but they made for excellent keys as well. Tarnish looked around, his head turning left and right, and he ignored the tiny automatons that scurried around, trying to get the palace-like building ready for visitors.

Lights came on, flickering, powering up after thousands and thousands of years. The walls thrummed as if the very building was coming to life, waking up after a long slumber. Somewhere, the sound of water flowing could be heard, it sounded like a fountain gushing. Vents began to blow air that was just the right temperature, not too warm, not too cold, but perfect for an equine with a thick pelt.

“So much technology,” Maledico’s projection said mostly to himself. “We were so advanced. We pushed the limits of everything and anything that was possible. We built gateways to other worlds, other whens, other wheres. We figured out how to make our own thin places so that we might travel to neighboring realities. We built vessels that flew like birds… some of them even flew above the sky and we had hopes of exploring the stars… the endless seas.”

Tarnish came to a halt and listened.

“The world was so advanced. Not only did we begin to explore above the sky, where there was no air, but a vacuum. That technology allowed us to explore the depths of the ocean as well. We made wagons that required no beast to pull them, based on the technology we found in other places. We pushed the limits of everything that was possible… and then we fell so far down. I don’t know what happened.” Maledico gazed at a mural on the wall showing what appeared to be a mechanical centaur. “It must have been such a long way down.”

The dry air now held a pleasant humidness that made breathing easier. Tarnish looked around the room he was in. The walls were a testament to centaur technology. Fantastic flying machines, machines shaped like fish, things that were very clearly trains, but not like the trains that Tarnish knew.

“I can remember some of these machines from when I was young,” Helianthus murmured. “Most of them didn’t work and they were all broken.”

“Wait.” Tarnish turned to face Helianthus. “How can you remember these machines?”

“Never you mind!” Helianthus snapped with uncharacteristic anger. “It would be best if you just pretended that I didn’t say anything, Tarnished Teapot.” Eyes narrowing, Helianthus focused upon Maledico. “And don’t you dare say anything, spirit… we have an agreement.”

“Agreement?” Tarnish began to suspect that something was going on.

“It is not of your concern.” Maledico’s projection turned to face Tarnish.

“Okay, fine. Keep your secrets.” Tarnish let out a snort, shook his head, and flicked his tail in annoyance. “It’s not like we need to trust one another.” Eyes narrowing, he glared at both Helianthus and Maledico.

“When this is over, I will give you a suitable explanation,” Helianthus offered.

Acknowledging Helianthus’ words, Tarnish nodded. He doubted that he would get a suitable explanation, but he let the issue drop. Helianthus was the sort of pony that ran a secret society—as such, she kept secrets and secrets only remained as such if you said nothing about them. In silence, he prepared himself for disappointment.

With Vinyl right beside her, Octavia was looking at the walls while Vinyl filmed what the pair of them were seeing. Maud was looking up at what appeared to be a large mechanical bird of some sort. It had a long tubular body with swept back wings and fins. Some of the machines on the wall defied description.

Looking around him, Tarnish realised that this place really was a tomb. It was a place where concepts and ideas had come to die. Equestria didn’t have this sort of technology now, most of what was on the walls were all inventions lost to the ages. Sure, Equestria had airships, but there was nothing like the mechanical looking bird or the big mechanical fish that no doubt swam the oceans. This was a crypt for knowledge. Now, with its discovery, Tarnish felt the future might be a little uncertain. Technology it seemed, might have contributed to the downfall of the centaurs.

It would no doubt be for the best if this place was never seen by other equine eyes, and Tarnish knew it. Vinyl’s films would need to be kept secret. Tarnish began to understand that the less that was known about this place, the better. Helianthus, just a few yards away, was looking at some strange machine that Tarnish couldn’t even comprehend. He had no idea what it was that she was looking at.

“If there is a vault of some kind here, it will be down below,” Maledico said to the others.

A little spooked, Tarnish lept off of the mechanical stairs. They were rickety, made a grinding sound, and didn’t work very well anymore. He wasn’t sure why anypony needed mechanical stairs that moved along a repeating loop. The very idea seemed nonsensical. Mere seconds after he landed, the mechanical stairs came to a grinding, grating halt and made a screech.

Even with the automatons trying to keep the place maintained, decay had set in and some things here were dying. It made Tarnish a little sad. He wondered if the automatons would begin to fail and break down. Who repaired them? Did they repair each other? As the others made their way off of the stairs that were now unmoving, regular stairs, more or less, Tarnish could hear a swarm of automatons coming to fix what was broken.

Down here, in the depths, most of the lights worked but a few flickered. Water leaked down the walls, no doubt a pipe had busted somewhere. Down here, things were less than perfect. Age was showing and time had its way with things. There was also something musty, something foul in the air. Down here in the depths, something felt dark and oppressive.

A bipedal automaton came wobbling up to Tarnish, this one wasn’t made of centaur steel. It appeared to be in bad repair, it trembled and shook, its movements were jerky and unbalanced. One of its gemstone eyes was still glowing with a faint light, the other had gone dim. It let out a stream of garble at Tarnish, some language that he did not understand.

“I don’t speak your language,” Tarnish said.

The automaton buzzed and its arms trembled. After a few seconds, it made a fizzling sound, the scent of hot metal filled the hallway, and something went clunk inside of the old golem’s chest. With a rattle and a clang, it spoke.

“Standard labourer language—BEEEZORP!—engaged.” The automaton leaned forwards. “Labourer, you should not be down here. It is dangerous! Dangerous! The city has been sealed. There is life threatening radiation down here—BEEEZORP!—life threatening radiation down here—BEEEZORP!—life threatening radiation down here—BEEEZORP!—life threatening radiation down here—BEEEZORP!—life threatening radiation down here—BEEEZORP!—down in the darkness we hear his song and we listen for the day when he awakens.”

With a loud screech, the automaton began spewing smoke and an acrid smell filled the hallway as it shut down, finally succumbing to time and decay. The bipedal automaton fell over, and with a clatter, hit the floor. One arm popped free of its socket and bounced over the floor, making metallic clanging sounds.

“Everypony needs to stay close to Tarnish,” Helianthus said in a voice that had a faint quaver of fear. “Come all, all of you, get closer. We’ve all shared a bed so nopony should mind.”

Tarnish checked his amulet and saw that it was flashing, going from pale blue to black. Seeing it made his mouth go dry. Thirsty, he pulled out his tea flask, took a swallow, and then passed it around to the others so that they too, could have a drink. When it was returned to him, he stuck the stopper back in and slipped it back into his saddlebags.

“More stones I don’t recognise.” Maud reached out and touched the wall with her hoof. “How strange they are and how curious is their song. Boulder says they are unknown to him.”

Moving as a group, they began forwards, down the narrow hallway together. Tarnish remained in the middle with Helianthus leading the way and Vinyl, limping somewhat, bringing up the rear. Octavia walked on Tarnish’s right and Maud walked along at his left.

The hallway remained level for a time, then began a downward slant. The walls glistened with moisture and strands of crystalline conduit threaded through the ceiling above sent down showers of sparks. The musty smell of decay was present, the cloying stench lingered in the nostrils and made the companion’s noses crinkle.

Another automaton was found. This one stood in the corner, banging his head against the stone over and over. There could be no doubt that it had been doing it for a very long time indeed, as there was a worn indentation in the stone, the spot where the automation’s head had impacted a countless number of times. A muffled metallic ding could be heard with each impact. The automaton’s gemstone eyes were both dim and an incomprehensible string of garbled gibberish came from its mouth.

It was Vinyl that put the old automaton out of its misery. Using her magic, she pulled him apart, dismembering him, separating limbs from body. With a hissing fizzle, the various pieces went still and ceased to function. She placed the automaton’s limbs, torso, and head down in a pile in the corner where it had banged its head for eons.

Ahead was the muffled sounds of more movement and Tarnish knew that there was an army of automatons ahead, all of them no doubt suffering some sort of failure-state. His ears perked at the sounds of voices, of mechanical clangs, of screeches, the cacophony of mechanical insanity.

Ears perked, Tarnish could hear the faint sounds of singing. “Down in the darkness we hear his song and we listen for the day when he awakens.” The sound made him start sweating. He didn’t like the sound of it at all. Over and over again the chanting came, with all of the regularity of the automaton that had been banging his head against the wall.

Taking a deep breath, Tarnish prepared himself for mechanical madness.

The signs of automaton upon automaton violence was all over the ground. Severed heads, arms, and legs were scattered about. Some of the automatons were mismatched, wrong looking, wearing the stolen arms and legs of other automatons, evidence that they had cannibalised one another to continue their tortured existence.

It was Vinyl that dealt with them, seizing them one by one and pulling them apart. She snuffed out whatever life they had before they had a chance to become dangerous. Nopony wanted an automaton running around with a nice, fresh pony leg or a pony head. One by one, the mechanical insanity was dealt with and the awful chanting silenced.

Past the automatons, a bright centaur steel door awaited and sure enough, there was a hole in the center. Tarnish knew that there was no force great enough to budge this door. The walls too, the area around the door, all of it centaur steel. He pulled the horn out of his saddlebags, held it up, and saying nothing, he inserted it into the hole in the center of the door.

The smooth sounds of mechanical perfection greeted him and with a hiss, the door began to open…

Author's Notes:

Soon, this story will have a complete tag.