Blacklight Anon 3

>You glance around the rocks you had landed in, looking for a way to figure out the situation you have managed to get yourself in.

>The rocks around you appear to be the exact shade of grey that people think about when they think of grey.

>Looking out into the distance you see hills, a similarly odd shade of green, and entirely too homogenous with their shapes, too perfect to exist naturally in nature.

>This all pointed towards a heavy human involvement with the creation and maintenance of the surrounding areas, but why?

>Once more, you look up towards the castle you had fallen through.

>The bloody thing is almost entirely hanging over thin air with just a few scarce supports which seem to be keeping it in place.

>From this, you can infer that there were modern materials such as carbon nanotubes supporting this structure, and as such, the structure itself is fairly new to the area.

>From this you could guess that this is a castle made in the modern age, likely by a person with a lot of money, but, once more, to what purpose?

>You narrow your eyes behind your visor. Looks like you were dealing with a highly eccentric rich person who, judging by the shouts you heard, was having a large amount of company over at the time of your little crash landing.

>That raised the question of how you managed to get over here to a rich person’s castle, but it seemed highly likely that the cause of this was short term memory loss here, perhaps due to your augments acting up.

> In such a situation, judging by what head quarters said about your objectives, you were probably acting as a scout, before primary assault, for the agency. After all, why else would you be dropping from an altitude, here?

>First thing first, you would have to find some way to get up to that castle, after all, it WAS the objective that you were given to accomplish.

>You snap out of your rather lengthy thoughts and observe your environment.

>Specifically, you were observing the mountainside. As befitting an artificial environment, it looks as if it was more steep than a lone mountain should be in most cases you could climb up the mountain if need be, by digging your hands and feet into the dirt, however; that was nowhere close to ideal for your purposes, given both the how fucking long it would take.

>At that moment, you notice something out of the corner of your vision, a flash of metal in the sunlight.

>You wheel around on your feet, looking for cover before you faced the possible threat, as your training dictated you do.

>Diving behind a nearby rock, you push your back against the makeshift cover.

>Keep your cool, Anon, keep your cool.

>You glance back over your shoulder and flick on your HRV. As you look upon the area through your the tactical view, you see no other living creature. No orange enemies, and no yellow neutrals.

>You needed to maintain your caution, however, they could have an HRV blackout, or other similar item which could hide them from your HRV.

>You poke out your head from behind cover, and glance over the environment.

>You see nothing making any sort of movement around the ground. Finding nothing to be scared of, you calm yourself and look more carefully around the area, and you finally see what caused the glint. A twin pair of metal bars upon the ground, supported below by wooden planks.

>You recognize these as rail tracks, you had seen them back home in the subways of cities you were deployed to, as well as some of the areas within the country side.

>However, all of these seemed to be substantially less advanced in appearance compared to the ones back home. This further reinforced your hypothesis that this was indeed the land of a crazy rich person.

>With a flash of inspiration, you realize that this was your way up most effective and safe way up, likely.

>You move out of your cover, and walk towards the tracks. Judging by the fact you didn’t see a good way for anyone to get up on your way down, it is entirely likely and possible that this was the primary means of access.

>You walk beside the tracks, and trace where they were going, and see a tunnel leading into the mountain, on a slow curve upwards.

>Bingo.

>You walk towards and into the tunnel, following the track, and activate the night vision on your helmet, allowing you to see easily into the darkness. As the scene is laid out before you in low light, you see most of the tunnel was well smoothed, the hand of a skilled craftsman or an accurate machine showing well done work.  It was apparent that a lot of time and work went into even the low tunnels beneath the mountain, which one would likely never see unless they brought a light along on the train to examine the walls.

>Judging by the slow climb of the track upwards, and how far you fell, you were going to have to take a while to get up to your objective.

>With a sigh, you mentally will your suit to access the your music, which you may or may not have downloaded against the wishes of the agency into your armour’s database. As the music comes on, you make sure the mic which picks up your voice and relays it to the outside world is off, and you smile lightly.

>You start humming along with the song, the electric tones helping to sooth your nerves after the stressful start to the day. Oh, goodie, the few words within the song are coming up.

“Fasten your seatbelts.”

>You march upwards into the tunnels, and into the unknown.

_______

>Up ahead you see a single spot of light on your vision, definitely the way out, and possibly an access directly into the city. Unfortunately, you could not see beyond the threshold of the light, due to the greater brightness outside compared to the inside of the tunnel. You do not turn off your night vision quite yet, due to the fact that you would had a fair chance of tripping if you turned off your vision early.

>As you get closer to the light, covering the last few meters, you figure that you were now close enough to see properly, and flip off your night vision.

>Outside the tunnel, you see the a train station, and what looked to be old world apparel which you would imagine such a train station would contain. Two tracks, then one you came from, and another going going into a different tunnel, a nice cloak on the wall, and glass windows.

>And populating this all was small horses, of various insane colorations, from green, to red, to purple, and back again.

>Over the throngs of horses, you saw some flying above, with wings on their bodies, pegasi possessing a presence here too.

>Within the throngs below, something else catches your eyes, some of those horses have fucking horns! Unicorns are fucking here, too.

>BRAIN.EXE has stopped working.

>Rebooting, please stand by.

>What the flying fuck?

>You continue walking forward, more cautiously this time.

>As you close in, you stick to the rails, as the ponies on the platform seemed to be in quite large quantities, as befitting some sort of major gathering.

>However...

>You slowly move towards one of the edges of the track, and reach out one of your hands towards the mass, just out of reach.

>You reach out, and hold it in at roughly mid way on the lower legs on the horses, and you look around, hoping that one of them would press along soon, so you could verify that you were not tripping balls right now.

>Soon enough, one passed close enough, one which the others seemed to give a tiny bit of room. He was a unicorn in a suit, walking with motions and attitude which suggested he was unhappy to be near the rest of the other horses, possibly some sort of elite member.

>For now, you push aside your questions about why a horse would need clothing.

>As he passes by, you brush the tips of your fingers against his front leg, confirming you were seeing this shit correctly.

>The stallion, as you supposed he looked male, suddenly huffed, and looked around, apparently angered at someone touching him. His angry glare looked around for a target, anger overflowing on a level which implied offense far beyond what a mere touch would cause.

>At that particular moment, a devious thought entered your mind.

>First, you check for an escape route, and after a brief moment of searching, you spot it, on the other side of the railway, the area was open, and level with the track itself rather than the platform.

>You withdraw your hand, and ball it up into a fist. You were probably going to regret this later.

>Searching for an appropriate target, you see a mark upon the flank of the horse, shaped like a book. You had to come up with a pun for this.

“Looks like I’m hitting the books!”

>Good thing no-one else can hear you spout these horrible puns.

>With a quick punch, you drive your hand hard into the horse’s flank, and ignore the shout of pain as you immediately turn and run, off to the opposite side of the tracks, where there was no platform, and no horses; to block your way.

>Although that wasn’t exactly conductive to your mission, you did not regret what you did one bit. That was bloody fun.

>However, you had to keep on moving. Get to safety, to the evacuation site, where you could safely freak the fuck out after you ran out of combat drugs to suppress your nerves. After all, you were seeing technicolor horses back there. Well, assuming your reality test wasn’t inaccurate and you didn’t just punch a civilian in the leg.

>You circle around the train station, and the trains which were parked there, finding a dirt path out front.

>You walk slowly along the well maintained path, and towards your target.

>The castle, which was rapidly approaching from the distance.