Although the day had started out normally, it had eventually devolved into a situation that was beyond what Jason Fawkes had ever decided that he could handle.
“No.” He stared down at the ponies who looked up at him from his perch on top of a local coffee shop, his little bastion of safety from the group below him.
“Why not?! It's only for a short while-”
“You don't understand. I graduated from the Academy of 'Fuck This Shit', a doctorate in 'Nope, Not Happening,' and a minor in 'Hell No.' You understand what I mean?” The ponies still stared up at him as he tried glaring at them. His 'Academy' reason to say 'no' was not working, which meant he was stuck on the roof until they either left or he went with them. Standing up, he looked up at the rising sun. It was still the middle of the morning, and he could not see the outlines of Mewtwo or Creed, the two of their group that had followed him on his little excursion into the city. Sitting down, he shook his head in exasperation. A voice behind him drew his attention as he flipped around, his hand flashing as he withdrew the Compliance Regulator from his Pip-Boy. He stared directly at Minsc, who stared down at the ponies below.
“Why do you not wish to join the ponies in their mirth? Minsc and Boo join them! It is incredible fun!” Jason covered his face with his hands, sighing as he turned to look at Canterlot from his rooftop perch. He sat down, shaking his head.
“Can I be honest with you, Minsc?” Jason turned to see Minsc settling down beside him, staring out over the city. The ranger nodded.
“The anger, the swearing... it's all an act, really. I'm angry at myself more than anything else.” He let the Pip-Boy digitize the Compliance Regulator, looking down at his knees. He drew them up to his chest, shaking his head.
“Why are you angry with yourself, Fawkes? This I would definitely like to know.” Jason turned to find Creed sitting on the other side of him.
“I let so many people die in the Mojave. So many I could have helped, but I did not. I was stabbed, shot, and burned, and it never kept me down. An entire town burned to the ground because I couldn't deal with a few gang members.” Jason looked down at the ponies below, sighing. A tear fell from his eye.
“If I let myself feel anything towards anyone, they died, without any warning. I can't get attached to anyone. Everyone I get attached to dies. The only reason the scientists at Big Mountain never died, well, they're massively intelligent. They designed a teleporter gun, for crying out loud!” Creed put his hand on Jason's shoulder, sighing.
“Jason, might I let you in on a little secret? I'm not the great general that Cadia wishes I was. The impure forces of Chaos invaded so many times... the fact that I have the lowest casualties is the only reason I am the best. I fight alongside my own soldiers to prove to myself that I will not let my men believe that they are alone in the fight. I will not eat the food of officers, but of the grunts, the true soldiers. Guardsmen who give their lives every day, and are still giving their lives.” Creed stopped to breathe, panting. Jason and Minsc both glanced at him in shock, unsure of what to say. Never before had their compatriot fully explained anything. Minsc lifted his hamster, looking whimsically off into the sky.
“I am not the unintelligent ranger that everyone believes me to be. Minsc may be my name, and I may be a ranger and berserker of Rashemen, but there is nothing preventing me from being brilliant. I feigned a head injury to allow myself some leeway in matters regarding the Bhaalspawn of the land I come from.” Minsc leaned back, sighing.
“I had a love once, friend Fawkes. I lost her... to a terrible wizard by the name of Jon Irenicus. I watched him die, screaming my most powerful battlecry!” He withdrew his sword, Boo perching on his shoulder and squeaking.
“'I grow tired of yelling battle cries when fighting this mage! Boo will finish your eyeballs once and for all so he does not rise again! Evil, meet my sword! Sword! Meet! Evil!'” When he finished, he smiled, letting the sun glint off the grand sword that he knew had once brought a vampire lord to their knees.
“My friend, you have camaraderie with us. We may be the unlikeliest of heroes, considering most of our backgrounds, but we still have one another. There might not be-” Creed looked off in the distance towards something shambling. Jason was already standing, his hands typing in commands to his Pip-Boy.
“Creed, please don't tell me that that is what I think it is.” Creed swallowed, nodding. Jason turned to Minsc, who was already jumping off the roof.
“Follow the ranger, Jason! I will find the rest of our compatriots!” Jason needed no prompting, his powered armour appearing around him as he leapt off the rooftop to the street.
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As he arrived at the place where he saw the strange shambling creatures, he watched as Minsc charged through a crowd of them, their limbs scattering as their gray uniforms acted not unlike tissue paper to the ranger's powerful sword. Jason rolled out of the way of another, the symbol on the uniform similar to something he had read from an old history book. Withdrawing his Q-35 Matter Modulator – he was rather proud of his plasma rifle's name – he started taking potshots at the ones that were closest, the flesh slowly bubbling as the corpses slammed into the ground. He raised his hand to his head, blocking out the sun so he could see. More of those creatures poured into the town, many simply keeling over and piling up as their heads smashed into the ground, the blood black in colour as it sprayed the cobblestones. The ones who still stood were contending with Creed and Minsc as they either slashed or burned holes through them.
“Fawkes! I bring assistance!” Mewtwo floated down from the sky, his psionic voice booming to the crowd. An orange blur underneath him was replaced by Raimi as he slowed down. With a click and a whir, Raimi's chaingun spun up, the shells clattering to the pavement as the bullets tore through the somewhat-alive walking corpses.
“Thanks! Try and round those things up! They are-” A scream from above forced the group to look up as the enraged form of Leonidas lept down from the rooftops, slamming his spear into one of them and spinning around, using his new spear tip as a blunt instrument.
“The dead walk again, and you speak of strategy? I have never had such battle as this!” With a smile drawn across his face, Leonidas lept from creature to creature, nimbly hopping on their heads as he made his way to the other side. Fawkes leaned towards Creed, irritation in his voice.
“I want to know how he did that in bronze armor.” Creed glanced at Fawkes, sighing.
“You are wearing powered armor. Any attempt at such would simply crush the-” Without another word, Fawkes was off, attempting to follow Leonidas across the field of corpses. Ponies scattered as the armor slammed into the ground repeatedly, the dead merely banging off the outer shell. In a flash, his Ripper was brought forth, the Q-35 Modulator disappearing in a similar light.
“Less talk, more action, guys-” As they continued to fight the corpses, Raimi overheard two arguing voices nearby. One sounded distinctly like a certain warlock, and the other was as stereotypically German as one could get.
“I am Richard!”
“I am Richtofen!”
“I am Richard!”
“I am Richt- mein Gott! Those pathetic excuses of heroes vill be here zoon, you dummkopf!” Raimi peeked over the near wall he stood by, staring down at a lower path, and the very warlock he had been told about. The other – Richtofen, by the name – was poking Richard in the shoulder, yelling and cursing in his native language.
“You sent undead, Richtofen. Surely we are to expect better of such theatrics from the S.S.'s very own 'Good Doctor', hmm?” Another figure entered the roadway, causing Raimi to cover his mouth. Alexander Volks, the founder of Volks Corp and the very project that had ripped his soul from his body, was walking and talking below him. Before he could leap down and engage, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Creed shook his head, frowning at the three men below.
“I'm sorry, Raimi, but revenge is not what we are for. However,” he shouted as he slammed his fist into the skull of another creature, “we are here to protect the innocent, and let the world know that we will not die!” Raimi nodded, turning away, not noticing that Volks had slightly turned his head, smiling as he saw Raimi, a look of something that would be welcome anywhere else.
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As the sun set later in the day, the corpses still made no sign of slowing. Fawkes could no longer use his Pip-Boy, as the screen had been smashed when a zombie had forced his arm up against the wall, while Leonidas, stout as he was, continued to be forced back. With a glow of brilliant yellow, the corpses floated up, leaving the six warriors standing still. Looking straight up, Fawkes could only smile as he saw Celestia herself descending.
“Must be a fucking Tuesday again if you're going to join us in the muck, Princess. We were just cleaning up these... Dammit. Creed, know a good word for them?”
“Undead, Fawkes.”
“These 'undead.' Now, I've faced some pretty fucked-up shit in the Mojave, but this is just out of the ordinary for me. Creed's fought these things before, while the closest I fought were robot suits with skeletons inside. Trauma Harnesses.” Fawkes removed his helmet, sitting down and leaning up against the wall. His helmet sparked, the Heads Up Display inside completely ruined as he leaned his head back. Creed sat down beside him, offering him a cigar.
“Here. Takes the edge off.” Fawkes nodded, taking the cigar. After he lit it, he took a couple of puffs and continued.
“These fuckers, well, they're wearing the old uniforms of Nazi Germany. Before you ask Creed, they're an old group of genocidal fuckheads that thought they could take over the world. Then again, they're dead now. That's what happens when you piss off most of the free world.” Fawkes took a few more puffs, chuckling to himself.
“Minsc and Boo, we are fine.” Minsc walked up, cleaning his sword of black blood as he hummed. Raimi was doubled over, panting and wheezing as if he had just run a marathon.
“You protected my little ponies again. For that, you have my thanks. However, there is another matter to be dealt with.” Raimi looked up as his most hated enemy walked around from behind Celestia, clasping his hands and flexing his fingers.
“Yes, well, such a good job can come from the one who brought me down. You do have my thanks for that, John Raimi. Oh, don't be surprised. You aren't the only one who has come back from the dead. While I am not allowed to directly interfere, Raimi, I can offer some advice.” Raimi was standing directly in front of Alexander Volks, about ready to lift his hand against him once more when Mewtwo placed his hand on his shoulder.
“Raimi, it is time to let the past be the past. Volks is more different than you or I understand, but he is sincere.” Volks nodded to Mewtwo, who floated away to see what assistance he could offer the rest.
“Well, that... thing, it has a good point. I've let my past go behind me, but I have learned from it. Besides erasing all connections to the occult, I've led a fairly active quest to quiet those who would do harm with such dark powers.” He held out a file folder, one that was dank from age with mildew. The name on the file read 'Doctor Edward Richtofen.'
“Huh, something on our enemy, right?” Fawkes stood behind Raimi, raising an eyebrow in question.
“Yes, actually. Well, just one. Due to my work with spiritual energies and the occult, I've been... scouted as a partner to rather unsavory individuals. Oh, don't look at me like that, Raimi. It isn't like I was exactly myself when that all happened. Look, either way it happened, and I was brought here as a consultant. Problem is, I have no want to assist those men, or the monsters that they work for, get what they want.” Volks looked up to see Creed, Leonidas, Minsc, and Mewtwo arrive behind Fawkes and Raimi. He frowned, looking at each one of them in turn.
“Monsters? What kind of trickery is this?!” Leonidas was about to grab Volks jacket when Creed held his hand back.
“Volks is here to help us, King Leonidas. While you and your friends were fighting these undead, we were busy closing the rifts they came through. Normally, asking the Elements of Harmony-”
“'Elements of Harmony?' What the fuck are those, some kind of superweapon?”
“-asking the Elements of Harmony-”
“You're not going to explain what those are? Some of us are quite curious, if you can't fucking tell.”
“-asking-”
“That's still not answering the most pertinent question-” Minsc grabbed Fawkes and tossed him to the ground, shoving a torn piece of cloth from a nearby awning in his mouth.
“-asking the Elements of Harmony would have been enough to stop them, as the energies of the Magic of Friendship would suffice to remove such horrible disharmony.” Fawkes removed the piece of offending material, and spat on the ground.
“Allow me to ask another question.” Celestia thought for a minute, squaring her eyes on his.
“Go... ahead.”
“Are you a fucking communist?” The other five, Volks, and Celestia all stared at Fawkes blankly as he glared at Celestia, his hatred evident.
“A... communist?”
“Disharmony? Peace? Lady, I hope you remember why you brought us here. We don't negotiate for peace. We fight for the end of wars. You send us in not when you want a calm resolution, but when you want a fucking body count! Talk to me when you think I'm needed. Fuck this shit, and fuck this place.”
“Fawkes-”
“And fuck you too, Creed!” Fawkes slammed his fist against the nearby stone wall, cracking it and leaving the impression of his hand as he walked away. He tossed his helmet over the nearby wall into the street below, scowling when he heard it slam into a cart of apples. Creed clenched his fist as he followed behind closely.
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“Fuck them, and fuck this place! Can't even get through to fucking Mobius with this broken piece of shit!” Creed ducked as Fawke's Pip-Boy flew out of the room he occupied, various pieces of his power armor scattered around the room as he pulled himself out of it. His Ripper lay against the wall, a journal open on the desk.
“Fawkes, what were you thinking?!” Fawkes looked up, his emotion evident by the tears streaming down his face.
“What do you think I was thinking, Creed? That I have a damn choice?! That I fucking want to be here?! I might very well be the last sane person in all of the fucking Mojave Wasteland, and yet, I can't even keep myself from realizing that the entire fucking Wasteland relied on me when they were all a bunch of stuck up shitstains who couldn't even change a fucking fuse without someone leading them to a switch they knew was already fucking there!” He tossed a gauntlet at the mirror, scowling as he watched the shards hit the ground.
“Fawkes-”
“You want to know what the worst part is? I had a girl in the Mojave. A sweet thing. I loved her to pieces, Creed, and what happened to her?! I was tied down while they beat, raped, and finally ate her in front of me! I'm not ever going to forget her face so filled with the mark of betrayal as all I could do was sit there and watch!” He lay down on the ground, staring up at the ceiling. Covering his face with his hands, it was all he could do to keep from screaming his head off. Creed sat down, crossing his legs as he shook his head.
“I cannot pretend to understand what you've gone through, Fawkes, but there are times where we cannot hope to understand what has befallen those we cared about. Chaos ripped my family apart – my wife and daughter – right in front of me. Chaos Marines and Imperial Guard traitor scum.” He sighed, shaking his head. Standing up, he headed for the door.
“Creed-”
“Fawkes, when you are ready to man up and choose to fight instead of letting the fight rule your life, come and talk to me. Otherwise, keep crying about something that happened to you in the past. Trust me, Chaos will do that and far worse when it comes to this planet.” The door closed as Fawkes sat up, staring at the door.
“Wait, Chaos will fuck the planet?”