//------------------------------// // 3rd Hour // Story: Liberty Unto Death; Warhammer 40k My Little Pony crossover short // by Fulgrim //------------------------------// Valor had enough hearing to look to his back and what he saw horrified him. Unlike the daemons they immolated, the ones that came at them now were very much different. Still equine in shape, these daemons were predominately green, with broken bones and bulging sacs of fat and who knows what else visible under their slimy skin. Their faces were drooping, ugly masks, with rotted eyes and yellow and broken teeth sprouting out of their maws as they screeched at the guardsponies. Their shapes were unique, with no two being the same, as many looked like corpses left out to the maggots, with deep cuts in their midsection spilling out a plethora of rotting guts that had no place in a regular pony. large, bloated flies exited their many wounds, and flew with the daemons, spreading their foulness in the air as well as the ground the daemons walked on. Only the sluggish advance of the daemons allowed the guardsponies time to react. The daemons magicked rusted and broken blades, seeping with a layer of putrescence and muck that Valor knew would kill a pony on contact. The guardsponies shot at the charging daemons, enough to bring down a few of the abominations, but soon after, they were among them. Unlike the other daemons, their slow movements allowed the guardsponies to engage them without being slaughtered outright. Earth ponies and pegasi used bayonets affixed to the ends of their lasguns, while unicorns magicked their bayonets and swords to swing at the foe. Valor was beset by a gibbering horror whose brains were displayed for all to see, dodging the clumsy swipes of the creature's club to deliver it a bayonet straight in the chest, a killing blow. The daemon didn't even flinch, swinging its sword at Valor who just barely ducked under it. Valor pulled his bayonet out of the abomination's chest and stabbed it again in the neck. Instead of blood, putrid muck, urine, and other substances better not spoken of flooded out of the would, bathing Valor's lasgun and head with its foulness. The daemon laughed at this wound, as it swung its sword in an upward strike that cut Valor's bayonet out of its flesh and almost cut both of Valor's hooves off. "Laugh this off, obscenity!" Yelled Valor as he was able to stab his bayonet into the creature's brains, ending its horrid life. The daemon collapsed, wracked with spine-snapping spasams, as its body slowly broke down to a puddle of muck, then reformed as a group of putrid plagueflies, which buzzed away. Valor asked himself in his mind, what are these things? Where did they come from? As he looked around at the swirling melee, his mind conjured up answers. The daemons that they killed earlier were called Bloodletters, and the served Khorne, the master of slaugher and the Lord of Skulls. The daemons they were fighting now were called Plaguebearers, and they served Nurgle, the god of plagues and foulness. Valor was aghast. Where did these names come from? He had never heard them anywhere. He crashed down on these blasphemous thoughts with The Emperess Protects, chanting it in his mind like a mantra. As the battle began to turn in the guard's favor, valor was on his knees in the mud. The voices spoke in his head, pushing him to the edge of sanity. Serve us, the said. What did the Guard ever do for you? Send you to die? We can give you more, anything you want. Visions of Valor sitting in a golden throne, atop a pile of riches flashed in his mind. He saw himself on a blood-soaked hill, his body drenched in the blood of a thousand enemies, their bodies torn and mangled under his hooves. The bodies of those who sought to hinder him from his destiny. My destiny is to die! Valor screamed at the voices in his head, trying to pull his thoughts back to the battle being fought all around him. You don't have to die, think of it. Serve us, and we will deliver you from this planet. You can have endless riches, strength, beauty, knowledge, immortality. You don't have to die here. Immortality thought Valor, an escape from the death he was meant to die. Meant to die. To die... Valor snapped back to reality, the smell of filtered air filling his nostrils, the feel of rubble under his hooves, and the feel of his gas mask on his mussel. No, I serve the Empress. Her gaze is upon me, and I shall not fail! Valor yelled at the voices as he scythed down a nearby Plaguebearer who was about to stab a guardspony from behind. Then have your petty death, snarled the voices, now beast-like. We will show you what happens to those who fail the Gods! they shouted, and a moment later, Valor felt their presence recede. Their attach on Valor's psyche left him cold. He could still see the images they promised, but he had no time to waste on such things. Howling like a prehistoric leviathan, Valor charged into the last remaining group of daemons. As a red haze descended on his vision, Valor saw not the foe, but felt their body-fluids spray his chest, and the snap of their bones on his bayonet. as his rage left, Valor found himself surrounded by a circle of daemon corpses. Many guardsponies stared at him in amazement. Many were still alive after the charge, with the lucky ones with cuts, bruises, and a few broken bones. Things representing bodies covered in an overgrowth of moss was all that was left of the unlucky ones. Valor and the other squad's sergeant did a status check. Valor's squad had only lost three, a good showing considering the amount of enemies. Valor trotted over to the other squad's sergeant. After a brief show of thanks, Valor's squad was off, cantering back to their previously overrun position. As they hunkered down, an incoming transmission came from the vox. "Squads on center front," began the voice of Sergeant Fire. Valor was glad to know he was alive, and had survived his assault. "Resupply chimeras are en-route to your position to dispatch reserves and issue ammunition." This was good. His squad was running low, and after the broadcast had ended, Valor ordered a supply check to know what they needed when the re-suppliers came. As the rumble of the tanks came closer, a chimera stopped right behind them. The back hatch opened, a munitiorium official stood in front of ammunition crates and seats full of guardsponies. "Lets see... Squad 98, yes. What supplies do you require?" asked the official as he stared at his data-slate that was magicked in front of him. Valor trotted in front of the door. "Yeah, we need, 3 squad members, a crate of ammunition, and standard rations for...ten." The official motioned to helpers who unloaded supplies, and three guardsponies got out of the transport and joined Valor's squad. The official tapped furiously on his data-slate as this happened. "Also, a squad was completely wiped out, if you noticed. You're gonna need to replace them." "Yes, I noticed," replied the official in a snotty voice. "Now if you excuse me, I have distribution to do, as you have dying to do." Valor chuckled stiffly at this remark as the door hatched closed and the tank rumbled off. Valor and a few other ponies lugged the crates over to the rest of the squad. "Lunch boys," announced Valor as one of the crates was hungrily ripped open by ponies and its stacks of protein-paste and water-tubes seized. A few squabbles happened, but all the ponies tore off their masks and ate and drank the food in the spare time allowed before they had to be on watch again. Valor sucked down the moist paste of a protein tube and thought about his troops. Who would last? Would this be the last meal they will ever get to eat? Valor wasn't trained to be a leader, but he accepted the position with determination, he would not shirk in his duty. Still, as the squad finished and the other crate was ripped open and its ammunition taken, Valor was uneasy. As the squad hunkered down, prepared to wait out the long slog that holding a designated area came with, Valor prepared for the storm. Not just the metaphorical storm, a storm of blood red clouds formed in the sky and slowly advanced toward them. It would be a fight worth remembering, if they got the chance.