The Baltimare Incident

by Powerdrainer

Deadly Beginnings

Ghost attacks had become fairly common over the years. Each hit becoming increasingly more destructive as more and more spectral entities found their way to Earth and its inhabitants. As such, newly formed response teams to counter this threat could be seen investigating these sites more and more often, as their previous secrecy was undone to give the world's citizens a sense of security; knowing their government cared and that in no way, their taxes were wasted on unnecessary items, such as better education for their children, or healthcare improvements. To show them that they would respond, maybe not in time to help when it mattered, but in an overwhelming force after the fact.

As such, a large contingent of soldiers had worked around the clock to secure the area; the latest attack of the ever present ghost plague only serving as a reminder their fight was still far from over. 

Special operatives, those trained in the use of spectral based weapons, accompanied by the suits of the Guys in White methodically sweeped one building after the next, leaving no stone unturned, while testimonies were taken from the victims who, according to them, were simply let go after something quite unexpected happened.

Now, nearly a day later, with the city locked down and the streets full of military forces, they waited; waiting for the shimmering point of distorted reality in the air to open up and reveal the newly formed tear to the ponies' realm, and the ghosts who went through it when it first appeared. 

"White One, what's your status?" A dark skinned, cleanly shaved man, sharply dressed in a fitted white suit asked over his earpiece; the red and orange light of the rising sun reflecting in the dark lenses of his shades. 

"White Two, all clear," a slightly tan man with neatly combed dark blond hair, dressed in the same white suit and wearing similar shades replied, fingers pressed against his earpiece. "White Three?"

"No suspicious activity on my side," A slightly nasal woman replied over the communications chanel; she, too, wearing a matching white suit and shades, contrasted sharply by her curled mess of fiery red hair.

"White One, remind me again. Why-"

"White Two. SJW."

"White One, copy."

"White Two, affirmative."

Meanwhile, the soldiers around them watched the exchange with growing confusion. First and foremost for their apparent desire to use the radio, even though the white dressed individuals were all standing next to one another.

"Ehh… should we, I don't know, say something?" one of the soldiers asked his brother in arms, keeping his voice low enough so they wouldn't hear.

"Way above our paygrade," the other replied, giving the white dressed 'professionals' an incredulous look. "... Somehow."

"White One, roger."

"White Two, we're not on a first name basis yet."

"White One, I meant Ten Four."

"White Two. Understood. Apologies.”

"White One. No problem."

"White Three here, get a room."

Both men turned to the woman, eyebrows raised high above their shades. 

"White Four here. Men, right?"

"White Three here. You know it, sister," White Three looked to the surprisingly short, somewhat chubby woman to her side, also dressed in white with shades and, shoulder length brown hair, nodding approvingly to the woman who seemed out of breath just from standing there.

White One and White Two shared an uneasy, disapproving look with one another, both shaking their heads in resignation.

"White Two. Did they even pass the physical exam?" White One asked with a sigh.

"White One. SJW," White Two muttered.

"Copy, White Two," White One replied grimly. "SJW."

Any retort that might have come from the two women in white was promptly cut off when, with a sound of a vacuum pulled in reverse, the newest tear linking their world with Equestria opened, revealing to them the city of Baltimare, and the destruction wrought upon it.

"White One to all units. Move out!"

With a chorus of affirmatives, the mass of military might quickly and effectively moved through the tear with the pounding of feet on the ground and the roar of engines from their tanks as they entered Equestria, covered under the unmoving blanket of night.

Silence had claimed the city, with only the faint howl of the wind as it blew through the abandoned streets; picking up dust and soot left behind from the destruction, billowing unseen in the darkness of the night. Some of which was slowly working to coat the forms of the two pegasi lying in a heap, partially covered with odd pieces of debris and blood.

With a weak, pained groan, Soarin stirred; eyes blinking blearily as his strained mind desperately tried to figure out where he was and what had happened, as his gaze slowly moved from left to right. 

"Wha-" he groaned, trying to coordinate his legs and push himself to a sitting position, when he felt a weight shift on his back. 

Blinking slowly, he struggled to turn his neck; his beaten muscles screaming in protest at his attempts to move.

Eventually he managed, and what he saw kickstarted his brain into overdrive as all the memories leading up to the here and now, returned with a vengeance.

Spitfire, body broken and limbs splayed at impossible angles, lay unmoving over his hind body, with only the faint rasp and bubbling blood covering her nostrils, as well as most of her body, revealing to him she was still breathing, if barely. 

As if a switch was flicked the muted sounds around him, obscured through confusion, snapped into focus with blood curdling clarity. Now aware of the cries of anguish filling the air all around him, coming from all over the city as the stone, brick and concrete groaned in protest and anger, in response to the glowing red crater, which had forced its way into the city; standing within the smouldering slag of molten stone, Princess Celestia, wings flared, stance wide, panting heavily, mane and tail a livid inferno and eyes aglow with burning hatred towards those opposing her.

Even from the distance between them Soarin could feel the heat slam into him, and he felt his heart both come to a stop, and try to force its way out of his chest in a painful squeeze of conflict as fear dug its chilling claws deep into the core of his being as, he now realized, the still present screams weren't just from pain, or fear, but malicious intent as well. And some screams came from terrifyingly nearby. 

With his breath stuck in his throat, Soarin slowly turned towards the screams, guttural groans and wet squelches, closest to him; watching with wide eyed horror, as numerous ghosts pushed, clawed, or phased their way out of the rubble covering them, rising up in the air and illuminating it with their unholy glow; their sickly green glowing eyes, burning with rage, locking onto him one pair at a time. 

Outnumbered, outmatched and with his instincts at war with his training to protect and serve, all Soarin was able to do was throw himself over Spitfire in a desperate attempt to keep her from further harm, eyes clenched shut as the ghosts surrounding him began their attack.

"SCOOTS!" Sky Rider shouted in panic, desperately looking for his wife ever since the collapse of the hotel they fled into to seek shelter. How he managed to escape out of that place, unharmed no less, he would probably never know. Not that this mattered to him, now. All he could focus on was that, when he came to, Scoots was not with him and everything that followed after that realization, passed in a blur of fear, and anxiety. 

"OVER HERE!" her, Celestia praised reply, called out, cutting through the confusion, as well as the all obscuring dust still clouding the disaster zone, making it all, but impossible for Sky Rider to see anything other than the debris two steps before him.

"ARE YOU OKAY… INJURED?" he called out, turning to where he had first heard her.

"NO, I'M…. NOT?" there was a clear tone of confusion laced in her voice, but went ignored as Sky slowly made his way through the debris on hoof; not wanting to try his luck with flying and risk hitting some unseen, overhanging piece of metal, or otherwise, on which he could seriously injure himself. 

"I'M COMING YOUR WAY. JUST STAY WHERE YOU ARE!"

"OKAY… PLEASE HURRY."

Grunting his agreement with that sentiment, Sky clambered over a large chunk of wall, some of the windows still in it; the glass shattered, however, leaving numerous sharp and hazardous blades for him to cut himself on should he misstep. 

With a low groan, the segment of masonry he tried to traverse shifted and upset his balance, forcing him to catch himself with a controlled flap of his wings before setting down on the, hopefully more stable debris beyond.

"Are you alright?" Scoot called out, much closer now, and Sky quickly looked around to find his wife.

"Scoots!?"

"I'm here!" she replied, stepping out from behind an unhinged door of a surprisingly intact room.

"Oh, thank Celestia," he cried out as he rushed to his wife, holding her in a tight embrace. 

Returning the affection in full, Scoot Blaze allowed herself a moment of peace, releasing a shuddering breath as tight knotted tension flowed out.

But all was not well, and much sooner than either of them liked, or wanted, she pulled away; nervously biting her lip as she looked down at the ground in between them two.

"Right," Sky said nervously, back in the here and now and trying to get a grip on things. "Do you know where Apple Gleam and Sweet Apple are? Celestia, I hope they aren't buried underneath all of this," he muttered, turning around and trying to find any sign of the two earth ponies.

"No…" she replied, shaking her head. "I lost them when the place came down. But there is something else that happened… I just don't know how."

Turning back to his wife, Sky gave her a questioning look, urging her on to continue.

Mouth opening, then closing without sound, Scoot Blaze was unable to find the words she needed. Instead, she eventually opted to just show, and opened her injured, broken wing without issue.

"What the-" Sky exclaimed.

"My wing… it's no longer broken… I think," Scoot Blaze said, demonstrating this by folding and unfolding her wing several times. "Even my primaries are no longer damaged."

"How…. How is that even possible?" Sky breathed out, unable to believe what he was seeing.

"I- I… I don't know. It was like that after this place collapsed. It… it doesn't make any sense. None of this makes any sense."

"But how-" 

"GLEAM, ARE YOU THERE!?" 

The voice of Sweet Apple cut through the dust still obscuring most of everything, interrupting the pair and forcing their minds back on track.

"We…. We'll figure this out, later. First we must get out of here. Fast." Sky Rider said, clearly forcing himself to say so.

Just as forced, Scoot Blaze nodded in agreement; folding her wing shut while trying to ignore the fact she could do so without issue, and instead the two made their way over to where they could hear Sweet Apple call out for her husband.

Unbeknownst to them, though, were the two red pinpricks of light glowing in the hollow sockets of an eternally grinning skull, as he observed the two make their way over the rubble and towards the other two, who shared in their fate. 

"Gleam," Sweet Apple called out desperately, unable to find her husband in the chaos all around her.

How she had managed to survive the collapse of the building, she did not know. Nor did she know how she managed to do so without a scratch, or wasn't buried under who knows how much tons of stone. Though she did lose her hat, none of this mattered to her now because what she did know was that, when she came to, Apple Gleam was nowhere to be found. 

"Gleam!" she tried again, her fear only growing with each passing moment no answer came. 

"Glea-" 

"Sweet Apple!?" 

With a snap, she turned around, eyes wide and hopeful. And though she felt a faint hint of relief upon seeing the stallion who called out to her, even more so, she felt her rising hope crushed underneath trampling hooves when she realized the pony clambering down a mixture of what was once a wall, a bookcase with some books still in it, broken glass and more dust than during a yearly bison migration was not her husband. 

"Sk- Sky Rider," she blinked, forcing away the moisture brimming in her eyes. "Scoot Blaze," her eyes flicked to the mare following after him.

"We heard you call," Sky Rider spoke up, then yelped as the unstable surface he tried to traverse shifted and he lost his balance. Only with a quick flap of his wings did he manage to avoid any injury as a small avalanche of destruction threatened to pull him down. 

Seeing this, Scoot Blaze unfurled her wings in instinct and quickly joined Sky Rider without a second thought.

"Wh- What… How did ya…?" Sweet Apple gasped, wide eyed as she stared at the broken, but not broken wing she knew the pegasus had.

Realizing what she did, Scoot Blaze looked at her wing, slowly folding in to her side. "Honestly, I have no idea," she answered with noticeable worry. "It was like that when I woke up."

"But how- No, tha ain't important. Did any of ya see Apple Gleam?" she asked in despair.  

Scoot Blaze and Sky Rider looked at one another, then both answered with a solemn shake of their heads. 

Trying her hardest to hide her disappointment, Sweet Apple averted her gaze from the two pegasi; instead willing her eyes to see through the darkness of night, obscured further by the ever present dust of structural collapse. 

"He… he has to be here, somewhere," she said, more to herself than the two beside her. 

"Then we better hurry and find him," Sky Rider stepped up, putting a reassuring hoof on the distraught mare's back. 

Forcing a small smile in thanks, Sweet Apple nodded in agreement and, together, the three ponies slowly pushed through the debris in search of the last member of their group, oblivious to the pair of piercing red dots watching their every move.

With a wheeze which quickly turned into a rough coughing fit, Apple Gleam came to; his legs flailing without control as he tried to regain his bearings while suffocatingly dry dust coated his eyes and lungs, blurring his vision while struggling for breath.

Grunting in strain while blinking the tears from his eyes, he tried to sit up only for a nauseating pain to shoot through the core of his being, and he discovered his already broken front leg lay pinned underneath some obstruction or another. 

Faint light flickered somewhere off to his side, and he turned to see a small decorative, magical lamp which had managed to survive; mercifully providing him with some light to see with.

"Ghraa," he grunted, reaching out for the light and pulling it closer to him.

"Sweet, are ya there?!" he called out through labored breath, moving the lamp from one side to the other, both hoping to find his wife, and wishing she wouldn't be trapped in here with him.

After numerous hour long minutes, without answer, or sight of his wife, nor of the other two ponies he had fled with, he used the light to see just how bad a shape his leg was in. 

It was bad. Really bad. As he soon learned his leg was trapped and by the look, and feel of it, crushed underneath the weight of a massive support beam, making it impossible for him to free himself alone. 

Taking several deep breaths to calm his nerves and push back a fresh bout of panic, he instead focused on where he was. 

What he found, quickly made him realize his leg was the least of his problems. As, all around him, there was nothing, but destruction, completely covering him under the rubble of the collapsed hotel. The only reason he was even still alive being the sturdy desk of the reception, which seemed to have caught the very same support beam, which had trapped him in the first place, which in turn kept enough of the collapsing structure at bay, to create a small haven, for him to survive in. 

Finally understanding the situation he was in, Gleam slowly worked his way through each profanity he knew with rapidly rising volume until he was shouting his anger to the heavens, had the thick shell of destruction around him not muted his voice for anyone else out there. 

After enough time had passed for him to run out of words, he finally turned back to his leg. Alone as he was, and afraid for his wife's life as much as his own, not knowing just how deeply buried he was, and if his air would run out or not. He knew if he would have any chance of living through this and find Sweet Apple, he first had to free himself. 

Of course, this was easier said than done. And as he soon rediscovered, merely trying to pull himself free only resulted in him crying out in pain as the pinned, broken and, most likely crushed, bone shifted and moved, while everything else did not.  

After numerous deep breaths while forcing the pain away, Gleam once more shone his light around his surroundings, hoping he could find something he would be able to use to free himself. 

The first thing he found this second round was his rope, all tangled up and covered under some debris, lying only just in reach of him.

It took him several attempts and reaching further than he initially thought he would, (which only added to the strain on his broken leg,) he managed to just grab the rope with the tip of his hoof; slowly pulling it to him and taking firm hold over it once it was close enough to do so.

Not sure how it would help him, but glad to have his rope all the same, he gave it a good pull to free it from underneath the junk covering it, only for it to get caught on something.

Frustrated, he tightened his grip. Before he could try again, however, a sudden shift within the precariously unstable rubble around him caused pieces to break, fall and groan in protest; dust falling down in great heaps before everything stilled. 

Realizing time was not on his side and knowing he would have to find a way to free himself, he quickly turned his attention back to the rope still held in his hoof. 

Gritting his teeth he pulled again with more strength, freeing his rope, but pulling out something else as well and he froze upon what he saw lying before him, gleaming in the light.

A sword. 

A damaged, bent and jagged sword which clearly was from a royal guard. 

He did not know how it ended up there with him, nor did he question it as, right then and there, while the damaged metal laid just out of reach, (but was partially snagged in his rope,) an idea came to mind. 

A terrible idea.

A horrible idea. 

A way to free himself. 

With a lump stuck in his throat he slowly looked from the sword to his pinned leg, then to the walls, floors, woodwork and anything else of the former hotel entombing him just waiting to collapse completely on top of him. 

And as three ponies up above slowly moved through the devastation, calling out his name in hopes of finding him, the same debris kept them from hearing his tortured screams. 

Soarin shook.

Still covering Spitfire with his body, surrounded by ghosts expecting the worst to happen at any given time and unable to do anything, but wait, the inevitable fear had clung to his very being and it took every ounce of willpower he had to keep from curling up into a ball while the ghosts surrounding them took their time to play with their victims.

How much time had passed, he didn't know. The pain wrecking his body was too consuming to his senses; every breath a struggle as smoke wafted from the numerous black marks of singed fur and burned flesh. Yet despite his torture, he forced himself to stand as strong as he could, willing to take as many hits it would take to save his partner. Hoping, wishing, praying to any who were out there for help.

Then an explosion shook the ground, lighting up the air, and breaking though his crumbling defense with concussive finality.

Dazed, Soarin weakly struggled to reach out to Spitfire, unaware if she, or even himself were still alive as darkness clung at the edges of his vision; the world growing darker and darker as his trembling hoof tried and failed, to reach the blood drenched mare, just out of his reach.

"We've got a live one over here!" 

And as his leg fell down to the ground, and darkness pressed in completely, the last he saw through the haze of blissful unconsciousness were numerous bright flashes which drove away the ghosts, before a pair of strange looking boots filled his vision.

How much time had passed they didn't know, but Sweet Apple, Scoot Blaze and Sky Rider had spent every minute since they found one another searching for Apple Gleam, while also diving for cover time and again when one, or more ghosts drew near. 

Fortunately for them, none of these unholy beings took notice of them, not even when one especially horrific looking ghost hovered not even a leg's length above their impromptu hideout.

With their breaths stuck in their throat, and with no more sound than a whisper, they searched the disaster site of what was once a moderately luxurious hotel. And though they weren't able to find Apple Gleam, to the ever growing fear of Sweet Apple, they did find other ponies. Or… their bodies.

Partially covered by the debris, crushed to death when the hotel collapsed, the now soulless husks stared back at them with glassy eyes as the three ponies slowly backed away from yet another destroyed room, unwilling to look, but unable to tear their gazes away from the young mare, probably not older than fifteen as her broken and beaten body hung impaled on the twisted and broken rebarb of what had been a ceiling; her now cold blood, still dripping slowly to the large pool of red below her.

Backing away around a pile of concrete, the stone mercifully broke their line of sight.

With a loud, body wrecking sob, Scoot Blaze collapsed to the ground; eyes wet with tears as her entire body shook.

Sky Rider, not faring much better, put a comforting wing on her back, yet lacked the words to talk to her. The horrors they'd seen this terrible day and night scarring them deeply. And despite it all, they knew Sweet Apple was worse off, for as much as they felt like drowning in despair, at least they had each other.

Breathing heavily, clearly trying to keep from throwing up, eyes clenched shut, Sweet Apple slowly turned her back to the mangled corpse just behind the corner.

"We…. he…. he must be here… somewhere," she muttered weakly, forcing her eyes open and looking at her hooves. "He has to…. he has…"

In the silence that fell, it was impossible for them to not hear the faint, but sudden shifting of rubble. With their ears at attention and their breathing all, but stopped, they listened. 

A faint tremor followed, which grew stronger and stronger with alarming speed, and all three ponies looked at one another with wide eyes, as all around them loose debris began to shift and slide, while the ground underneath their hooves shook in turn with the tremor, and roar of some unseen beast that had descended upon the former hotel.

"CONTACT!" somepony shouted, followed a split second later by a cacophony of numerous booms, then a massive explosion which nearly knocked the three ponies from their hooves.

Numerous flashes of toxic green lit up the air in retaliation.

"FOCUS FIRE!" another voice could barely be heard over the deafening noise.

All three ponies, having dived to the ground on reflex, had to force a lump down their throat when, quite damning to their safety, a mound of debris shifted, then collapsed completely. Now with a sudden clear field of view, the previous unseen warzone was revealed, and all three felt their breathing stop as they watched with massive eyes at the carnage, a stone's throw away from them. 

Humans, before only heard about, were present in great numbers; wearing some kind of strange olive drab colored armor, firing even stranger weapons which created a multitude of bright flashes and thunderous explosions in rapid succession. All of this destructive force was aimed up towards a group of ghosts, who did not seem the least impressed by this show of power as they fired beams and bolts, with shrill laughs, and wicked grins.

Another massive explosion rocked the night, pulling Sweet Apple, Scoot Blaze and Sky Rider's attention to the metal behemoth with a long narrow barrel angled up towards the ghostly threat; a multitude of toxic green bolts impacting on its heavy armor with minimal damage.

A flash of light illuminated the air, and the ghosts' attack came to a sudden halt, as they screeched out in pain and anger.

Slight movement caught Sweet Apple's eye and from some dark alley, she saw a small canister being thrown towards the ghosts which exploded seconds later in their midst with a strange burst of energy that managed to knock two of the undead entities down. Both of which were suddenly caught in a beam of bright blue, before being sucked towards and into an odd looking canister held by a white suited human who stepped out of the alley. 

Not pausing for a moment, this new arrival quickly fired another bright blue beam towards the rest of the incapacitated ghosts, capturing the group within a minute.

Slapping a cap onto the ghost capturing object, he brought a hand to his right ear.

"White One here, area reached. Ghosts present, neutralized and captured. Continue sweep."

Eyes wide in shock, all three ponies were unable to believe what they had just seen. After all they've gone through, their nightmare was finally at an end.

Realizing they would be safer down there with these humans than out there on their own, they wordlessly agreed on their next course of action and slowly pushed to their hooves, and began their careful approach to the human guards.

With a cry, shout and tortured groan mixed into one, Apple Gleam broke through the debris burying him; breathing heavily and laboriously past the small lamp held within his mouth, as he reached out with his hoof to find purchase, and pull himself further out of his deathtrap. 

A new cry of torture escaped him as he grinded over the numerous jagged pieces of destruction, most of it becoming slick with dark red blood which smeared out of the jagged stump where his leg used to be, tied off with the rope he first found. The lamp falling away from his mouth in the process. 

Even then, tied off as the remainder of his leg was, blood still escaped him at an alarming rate. And most of his strength had been lost during his escape from his would be tomb. 

Now though, free from his prison and with the first breath of sweet, refreshing cool air filling his lungs, after far too long, he allowed himself a moment to recuperate; lying on his uninjured side, as his chest heaved and shook; his vision blurred and darkened as a puddle of red began to spread out.

Knowing time was a luxury he didn't have, he rolled back upright and tried to get up on his remaining hooves, when he saw something.

Something which, despite the blur the world around him currently was, stood out on perfect focus and clarity, illuminated by the miraculously still working lamp: Sweet Apple's stetson.

His once laborious breath came to an abrupt stop as he slowly hobbled over to his wife's possession, reaching out with a hoof he no longer had.

More on autopilot than conscious thought, he sat down and used his freed hoof to pick up the stetson.

A scream full of anguish escaped him as he pushed back, the stetson falling to the ground as, now revealed to him, was the broken and bloodied face of his wife as her lifeless eyes stared unblinkingly back at him, from the debris she was buried underneath.

Exactly what happened after was lost to him. 

Sounds were muted. Colors were drained. The world around him had lost all focus. Even time seemed to have stopped completely as he moved one hoof after the other. Not knowing where he went, just that he couldn't stay.

A misstep forced him to put weight on a leg he no longer had, and the weight carried on his back shifted and almost fell.

No. Not a mere weight. The body of his wife, the mother of his children, the other half of his being.

What little he remembered working to dig her out of her deadly prison was reduced to a blur and now, while he pushed himself well past the limits of his long spent body, he realigned his wife to regain his balance, then continued onwards without sense, or destination in mind.

He just had to get out of there. Somehow.

A harsh light suddenly glared down on him, yet he barely noticed and pushed onwards with dragging, cracked hooves. 

"WHO GOES TH-  OH, SHIT!"

Blurred shapes quickly closed in, surrounding him as he pushed onwards without acknowledgement, putting one hoof after the other until, eventually, he could continue no longer and collapsed into darkness.

Sweet Apple, Scoot Blaze and Sky Rider slowly scampered down the mound of destruction, surprised they hadn't managed to gain the attention of the human guards while doing so when, with a sudden clang a large light activated, shining blinding light to some area off to their side.

"WHO GOES TH- OH SHIT!" 

Startled by the loud voice, and even more worried by the sudden shift in tone, all three ponies stopped in their tracks, looking off to what had gathered the human’s attention. 

Following a number of humans who broke formation rushing to whatever had happened, the others aiming their weapons and sweeping the area with rapidly rising anxiousness, it took the group of three a moment to realize what was going on. Only when two humans rushed back, carrying somepony on a stretcher, did they understand what had occurred.

With a cry, and foregoing any of her former carefulness, Sweet Apple rushed towards the humans carrying her husband; able to see even from the distance she stood the horrific shape he was in.

In her panic she did not realize how odd it was no human reacted to her rushing in, or that no human even acknowledged the fact she desperately tried to see Apple Gleam's condition as he was rushed towards a medic.

Though while she did not notice, Sky Rider and Scoot Blaze could only stare in confusion, which rapidly turned into an all consuming sense of horror when they saw the two more humans move back, also carrying a stretcher holding something, somepony that could not possibly be.

And as these humans moved back into the relative safety of their ranks, none of them saw, or heard the panicking mare as she frantically paced around her husband's beaten and broken body.

But as they reached the medic and lowered the deceased form of her to the ground, Sweet Apple froze; staring into her own, still open, lifeless eyes.

Only Sky Rider, Scoot Blaze and one other heard her scream, but a chill went down the spine of all present.

Pinkie, Maud and their grandmother lay on the ground as a result from the concussive blast which took them by surprise, unmoving, but breathing as they slowly gathered their with. 

Pinkie was the first to recover, sluggishly returning to her hooves, blinking owlishly while trying to regain her bearings. 

Second was Maud, who slowly sat up, looking none the worse as she shook off the disorientation, then turned to her younger sister to make sure she was unharmed. Seeing she was already up and oddly prodding at her mane, Maud released a quiet sigh of relief, then quickly turned to her grandmother who began to move with a strained groan.

With a gasp, Pinkie rushed to her family, helping her sister help their grandmother back to her hooves.

"Oh, good grief. What happened?" Granny Pie asked, voice woozy.

"I don't know," Maud said quietly, voice once again bereft of emotion while Pinkie began to fidget on the spot, looking around worriedly.

Steeling herself, Granny Pie forced herself to focus and stop the world from wobbling before her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she slowly pushed away from her grandchildren, looking around for any sign of danger. What she found, however, forced the air out of her in a large gasp.

Numerous buildings were severely damaged; their windows blown out, numerous cracks running along the walls, personal belongings found within the numerous rooms blown out and onto the streets below, joined by several large chunks of wall, that had been broken loose by whatever had just happened, spreading even more carnage all around them. Literally, as she saw with blood chilling realization that several large chunks of masonry had fallen around them, encircling them on almost all sides yet never hitting the small spot they had fallen to the ground. One especially jagged looking piece hung precariously over them, yet seemed to ignore gravity's ever demanding pull as it swayed up and down much like a seesaw. 

"How…" she breathed out, shocked. 

"Gummy," came Pinkie's subdued response, her mane, having lost some of its luster, as it sagged down into itself. "He said we were going to be fine, remember?"

"Pinkie," Granny Pie said nervously, never looking away from the overhanging doom waiting to come crashing down on them. "I don't understand anything that has happened today, but please tell your friend to do whatever you say he does for a little bit longer and get out of here, NOW!" she shouted, frantically shoving Pinkie away while pulling Maud along by a leg. 

No sooner had they left, the jagged segment of wall crashed down, instantly killing them, had they still been there, as the three ponies leapt away from danger. 

Looking back, wide eyed and disbelieving, neither Granny Pie, nor Maud, were able to form any words to what had just happened. Pinkie, however, released a strangled sob as she stared teary eyed at the pile of debris.

"Gummy," she squeaked out, the tiny reptile nowhere to be found.

Though shocked, maternal instinct was stronger still, and Granny Pie reached out with a hoof to her granddaughter, pulling her closer to comfort her, when a faint clatter could be heard. All three ponies turned back to the pile of rubble, as some smaller pieces of stone started to shift and fall; gradually picking up, until a small avalanche of concrete and other assorted pieces of destruction clattered down. 

It lasted for nearly a minute, then stopped and fell silent. Then, to their complete shock and astonishment, seemingly out of nowhere Gummy popped up, dust covered, but ultimately unharmed. 

The tiny alligator slowly looked around, both eyes slightly misaligned. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, which he then flopped up and over his right eye, licking away the dust with a long, slow drag. He then repeated the process for his left eye.

"GUMMY!" Pinkie cried out in relief, rushing to her reptilian friend in what, to her grandmother and sister, appeared to be a pink blur. Scooping up the alligator up and hugging him tightly to her chest.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. You kept us safe, just like you did by scaring away those meany ghosts."

Both Maud and Granny Pie were at a loss for words, their mouths hanging slightly open as they tried and failed to figure out what just happened. Much time to do so, they didn't have, as, with a sudden and rapid pounding on the ground, numerous strange bipedal creatures came rushing in; cutting through the darkness with numerous flashlights as they began to surround the three ponies and an unblinkingly watching, baby alligator.

Celestia was burning, the literal embodiment of the sun. The ground underneath her, molten and red. Her mane and tail a living inferno and her eyes, glowing hot with anger, and hatred towards these abominable ghosts who dared to hurt so many of her subjects. 

One in particular, Skulker, grinned evilly, as he kept a calculated distance between himself and the enraged princess, while she never let this monster out of her sight. The other ghosts who first dared to attack her, lay either burned and beaten on the ground, or had left out of self preservation; instead seeking out others to torment. 

Celestia would have hunted them down, had it not been for this one ghost. 

She soon discovered he longed for this fight, seeking out any way to induce her, to force her to push past her limits. Limits which, fortunately, were much greater than Skulker first anticipated. This was something that only made him all the more eager to fight. And keeping her from directly stopping all the other ghosts ensured their fight would last. And Celestia knew that, should she try to save her ponies, turn her back on this threat, he would use the opening to strike, doing who-knew how much damage to her and in extent, anypony else. 

No, as much as it pained her, she had to stop this monster before she could focus on the rest. She just hoped what remained of her guards were able to hold their own against these unholy abominations. 

With a mechanical whirr, Skulker brought out yet another weapon out of his armor's shoulder; aiming a now familiar looking box shaped device at her, from which he fired numerous small missiles, which flew towards Celestia on numerous different paths. 

Before any of them could hit, however, the searing heat emitted by her form, melted and detonated the tiny explosives, before they could do any harm to her, just as they did the last several times.

"Come on. Show me what you are made of!" Skulker demanded with feral glee.

With a growl escaping her mouth, Celestia once more powered her horn with a most devastating spell, releasing it the instant it was charged; bringing forth a soccer ball sized orb of golden light, which shot from her horn in a blurring streak of light, lighting up the night in its path, while its light also reflected off the dented and charred armor of Skulker, as he narrowly dodged the spell. Even then, the mere proximity to it, caused his armor to heat up and dimly glow red; his already damaged arm finally reaching the breaking point, as some internal component exploded and blew off the limp appendage.

Then, the orb struck an already damaged tower complex and a sizable portion of it, disintegrated in the ensuing explosion. 

Celestia breathed heavily. She knew something had to change, soon, or they would be stuck in this endless fight to see who will break first.

An explosion detonated off of Skulker and the ghost slammed into the ground with a massive crash, joined by a victorious roar coming from the street behind him.

Shocked by this sudden turn of events, but not allowing herself to waste this opportunity, Celestia flew up, while charging her horn once again; looking down on the cratered ghost with pure hatred as she fired her spell with all her remaining power.

Skulker did not have time to move, and the spell slammed into his unguarded back with absolute destructive power; the ground around his armor flexed, cracked, then exploded from the sudden intense heat, before it, along with the armor, melted, until nothing of the metal construct remained. 

Dropping down, Celestia kept her horn aimed towards the lava filled crater, waiting for any sign of Skulker to rear his head, not even acknowledging the creatures who hesitantly approached.

"You think she got it?" some unseen stallion asked, his voice a mix of shock and awe.

"Fuck if I know," another replied. "It's fucking ghosts. I'm amazed our rocket even manage to knock him down."

"Then I suggest you keep your weapons aimed and at the ready, Lieutenant," a white dressed, dark skinned man slowly stepped into view of Celestia. "And allow the lady some much needed rest while we make sure this ghost is indeed gone."

"Sir," a chorus of confirmations was heard, and numerous armored humans rushed in to surround the slowly cooling puddle of rock and metal, while White Two slowly moved forwards, a strange, beeping device held in his hand.

For almost a minute, nothing happened as White Two worked with his device; the beeping ever present, but gradually slowing down. 

"White Two here," he spoke up, two fingers pressed to his ear. "Sector reached, hostile presence found and engaged. Unable to capture. Scan shows it may have escaped, invisible and, or intangible, but no further presence is detected, and the signal is fading. Be advised, Royal White is present."

The human soldiers present all shifted nervously, clearly not liking what they heard.

"Affirmative," White Two replied to whatever response he got, then lowered his hand to the side. 

"Men, secure the perimeter and begin search, and rescue."

"Sir yes Sir."

As the marines moved away to perform their duty, White Two turned to Celestia.

"I would say you can relax, but I doubt this is a luxury you would allow yourself in such a dire time," he began. "Do know that human forces have arrived through the tear and are in the process of securing the area, neutralizing as many ghosts as we can."

Celestia, still standing tense and ready to fight, suddenly found her strength leave her as she fell to her haunches; breathing heavily and not even trying to fight the tears escaping her.

"You… I… Thank you."

"Of course," White Two gave a curt nod, then tilted his head to the side, listening to a new transmission.

"We'll have to wait with the formalities until this crisis is resolved, I'm afraid," he said. "Lieutenant," he called over his earpiece, "combine efforts with the princess, ask for any useful intel to this city. We're going to need it. Keep the spectral containment units your unit has at the ready should more hostiles approach, while I go and tend to another matter that has popped up."

White Two listened to the reply for a moment, then grimaced before sighing.

"SJW," was his cryptic response. "White Two out.”

Within the ruins of the apartment complex which took the full force of Celestia's might during her fight with Skulker, the aforementioned ghost stood in one of the more intact buildings, glaring down at the humans milling about like ants. 

Skulker, now without his armor, went completely unnoticed as his true diminutive green blob like form, was too small to be seen from such a distance.

"Unfortunate," he grumbled, trying to sound menacing but only managing to sound like a squeaky toy. "But not unexpected. That tear had to open up sooner, or later. Still, I've been sloppy, letting my guard down like that," he reflected, clenching his left fist. "And now I am without my armor," his eyes moved to his right hand, "but at least I was able to secure my trophy."

Rainbow Blaze's severed tail lay on the ground beside him, its bloody length thrice the size of Skulker as he held a tuft of multicolored hair in his grip. 

"Now, how do I get out of here?"

Scanning his surroundings, he took notice of one human in particular. A white dressed, dark skinned male. 

Recognizing the outfit and the less than impressive challenge they posed, an evil smirk grew on his face as he followed after the individual from a safe distance.

Stepping over the remains of a burned down chariot, careful not to get any stains on his white suit, White Two made his way over to the allocated area of White Three and White Four, frowning deeply while keeping a close eye on his active scanner.

The sound of footfall came from his right and he turned to see White One approach, also holding his scanner at the ready.

"White One," White Two said, his scanner aimed at the man.

"White Two," White One returned, also running a scan.

When both devices gave the all clear, they closed the distance.

"SJW, right?" White One sighed out.

"You've heard the same call as I have," White Two replied tiredly.

"Indeed I have," White One confirmed with a resigned sigh. "To no one's surprise, honestly."

"Let's just get this over with."

"Affirmative."

Both men continued onwards, while White One put away his scanner and pulled a small spectral blaster from within his suit, quickly moving to the area White Three and White Four insisted they were more than capable of securing on their own, regardless of any objections given.

But, as White One and White Two entered through a demolished door into a storage area of sorts, neither man was surprised by the sight that awaited them.

Both women hung upside down, stuck to the wall with spectral goop gluing them in place. The same material also had them gagged, making it impossible for them to call for help. Though as both men slowly approached, White One with his blaster at the ready and White Two performing a detailed scan, while reaching for his own blaster held within his suit, no hint of joy could be found in the heated glares the two women shot at them.

"It's clear," White Two said after a moment. "Guess whoever did this lost interest a while ago."

Nodding, White One approached the two captured women; putting his blaster away and pulling the goop covering White Three's mouth away.

"Oh, sure. And here come the men to show us how it's done, huh? As if we, strong independent women can't fend for ourselves. In fact, we were doing just fine before you two showed up. Getting really close to freeing ourselves as well before yo- mpfhmmf."

White One promptly reapplied the gag.

"White Two to all White units. White Three and White Four have been located. Be advised, their objective has failed and their recovery..." he paused for a moment, looking at White One who gave him a so so gesture, "Their recovery may take some time."

White Three and White Four started to increase their struggle upon hearing that, loud mumbling coming from behind their gags.

Waiting for a moment to think it through, White One eventually pulled away the gag from White Three again.

"You're going to leave us here?! Without help?"

"Didn't you just say you were close to freeing yourselves and, that you don't need help from us men?" White One asked in return, completely serious.

"What… but.. you are-"

"A man who worked hard to reach the position I have and someone who doesn't appreciate it when others join this outfit, not through hard work, but by the rule of ‘who can shout the loudest.’ Let this moment here serve as a reality check for the both of you. This is not some fancy desk job, with classy clothes and an excellent dental plan. We're soldiers, first and foremost. We fight, we get hurt, and possibly even die. But when we do head out, we do so with the knowledge that our brethren in White have our backs. But not you. No. You see us wearing a fancy suit and immediately think that we're leser than you; that we didn't deserve to wear this outfit. But that is where you are wrong. White Two, he earned his suit. So did I. Earned through years of hard work and sacrifice and having the scars to prove it. But you two, what did you do to earn them? Properly earn them? Whose lives did you serve except your own?"

White Three's mouth opened and closed like a fish on dry land, but no sound came from her.

"But no, we're not going to leave you here," White Two stepped up. "However, do know that when we free you, it will not be from one White unit to another. You're civilians in way over your heads, without the proper training, or physique and who should not have been sent out in the field in the first place. And you know it, even if you don't want to admit it."

"Now, let's get this stuff off of you and get you two back to base."

Not waiting for an answer, or rebuke, White One and White Two began to pull the women free, making sure they wouldn't fall to the ground when their bonds were removed. But as they worked and with their scanners put away, they were unaware that the miniature ghost that Skulker truly was, had watched the exchange with interest and a wicked grin.