Gridlock was always anxious around capybaras. Not that she thought they were ugly, of course: your average capy looked much like a guinea pig, if guinea pigs ever decided that being so small was a bad thing and getting up to the size of actual wild boars was a good idea. They stood a whole head smaller than the mare, a head and a half smaller than most pony stallions, but that was big enough to matter in the grand scheme of civilisations and politics.
She wasn’t even that anxious about the weapons the capies around her were carrying. In the pack of 20, half of them carried spears and shields, the other half bore the weight of an arbalest on their backs.
What made Gridlock anxious was the likelihood of them ever using the weapons they carried.
Capybaras were, by nature, easy to scare. In that respect, they were much like ponies. Their first response to being scared, however, was quite different to that of ponies, at least in Gridlock’s eyes. Where ponies were prone to rallying against a common foe, capies had a tendency to just run and hide, or freeze in terror. That may have accounted for their taste in weapons: stationary defenses made it easier to curb their instincts; standing still while firing big guns did work, provided the guns were big and numerous enough. It did leave them weak to being overrun, but it was better than nothing. She just hoped the military training had done enough to get them to stand their ground when attacked.
You just can’t beat evolution, and the instinct of whole generations' worth of being prey animals doesn’t go away if you introduce civilisation for a, by comparison, pathetically short time.
Gridlock knew the upsides and downsides of genetics all too well. She was a unicorn mare with a whitish golden coat and a flaxen mane and tail, remnants of her proud Brabansong ancestry. Ponies even said she looked like a paler Daring Do, which was ridiculous, because Daring Do never brushed her mane, whereas Griddy made a point of keeping her hair flat and manageable at all times. She had descended from a long line of strong Earth pony workhorses who’d partaken in valliant missions for the Royal Guard, and who’d later gotten mixed blood with unicorns. But where her more recent family had forgone military matters in favour of traffic control, Gridlock was a traditionalist.
“So what do you think, Griddy?”
She looked next to her. Though Gridlock was only descended from the legendary Brabansong, dear Slam had their pure blood coursing through his veins. Deep brown coat, caramel-coloured mane and tail, and hooves like sledgehammers, Slam looked like the very picture of one of the old warriors. Didn’t have the temperament to match, though.
“I’m sorry, what? I wasn’t listening.”
Slam grumbled. “Think we can get to Milagro before tomorrow?”
Griddy looked back. Twenty capy guards, all fresh out of training; four wagons, each being pulled by a pair of heavily armoured Earth pony Royal Guards; six pegasus Royal Guards for scouting, eight Earth pony heavy infantry, and three casters, her included.
Really, their speed depended on the terrain. The roads weren’t so much roads as they were dirt trails for the moment, and in the savannah the trees were present enough to slow the group down, but not dense enough to provide any shade, so that would add a couple of hours to the timetable. Not that the officials had any fault there, of course.
The capies had been expanding their territories out of the usual swamp and river lands they inhabited, and headed more towards the south of their home continent. Again, they weren’t that different from ponies in that regard.
Unfortunately, much like ponies, that meant they’d encountered some threats along the way. Wild beasts, rogues and bandits from other nations, and the occasional eldritch abomination that rose up from the depths to take over the world. Standard stuff, really. Equestria had been more than happy to lend its aid, though training the rodents had proven tricky. This trip was to be the first real mission for the local forces.
Milagro City, where they were headed, was one of the newer settlements, and was scheduled for a visit from both the capy governor and Miss Harshwhinny, along with the usual suspects who got sent out of Equestria: Prince Blueblood, and two dignitaries who liked to tag along with him.
“A trek through the savannah, in full gear? We should make good time, I suppose. Assuming we don’t get ambushed, we ought to make it by nightfall. Why?”
Slam gulped. “Hoping to keep a promise. No biggie.”
Griddy nodded knowingly. “How old is he now?”
“Nine years and three hundred sixty-four days. Not counting leap years.”
“Ah, now I follow. Hoping to get him a little something when we get to base?”
Slam shrugged. “It shouldn’t be a problem, right? I mean, Milagro’s already got power and com up. They’ve got a network, don’t they?”
Gridlock nodded and stopped, holding up a hoof. “They should, yeah. Getting it from the usual place, then?”
“Yup. The usual place.” Slam stopped and motioned ahead of him. “Log up ahead.”
"I see it." Gridlock turned and called out behind her. “Roadblock!” Following her lead, the whole convoy stopped.
In front of them lay a tree, blocking the road. It would have stood about twenty heads high, and its trunk was thick enough to reach up to a pony’s chin if they stood next to it.
Too heavy to move with raw muscle, too thick to cut in a reasonable amount of time, and in the middle of the road with good cover for any enemies on either side.
Slam looked around furtively. The capybaras chittered amongst themselves, whistling and wheeking as their recent training regimen slowly came to them. They scanned the area only slightly more slowly than the ponies did. No signs of enemies, no telltale scents, just dried-out trees and spiky bushes in all directions.
Gridlock looked behind her, waiting for the sign. Slam, ever mindful of his duty, stayed close with his weapons at the ready.
Slam was, as Griddy had learned, the typical away-from-home dad, an Earth pony who’d taken the warrior’s path more for the job security than any glory. He took his job seriously enough, but he wasn’t one to go looking for heroics.
This was a major plus in Gridlock’s book. The Royal Guard’s unicorns liked to tell each other horror stories about all the times a pegasus or Earth pony would abandon their unicorn charge, leaving the caster wide open to an attack. Magic took a lot of concentration, so aside from your bog standard run and gun, most unicorns couldn’t cast spells while on the move.
And every enemy to ponies knew about that weakness all too well.
Slam sighed. “Who’s on cushion duty today?”
“I am,” Gritty said with a groan.
“Okay, I’ll cover you, then.”
As had become a routine in such situations, the capies carrying arbalests lowered themselves down while the ones with spears took their defensive positions and manned the guns.
The pegasi escorting them flew up, looked around, then went back down, giving the all clear.
“No sign of any hostiles,” Slam said.
“Not from above, no.” Grid looked around, eyeing the spiky bushes. “Watch the flanks. If the bushes start moving, you know what to do.”
“It could just be bad weather, Griddy. It could have been blown over.”
“Or it could be a trap. Something’s been raiding the supply lines, it might be this.”
Slam regarded the log in front of them as they stepped forward, side by side. “Okay, what are you betting on, then? Centipedes?”
“Not enough meat around to make them flock.”
“Naga?”
“Too far from water.”
“Dragon, then?” Slam snickered.
She slapped him right on the chest. Of course, given he was wearing standard Royal Guard armour, it didn’t hurt. “Just cover me while I move this thing, okay?”
“As you say, Ma’am.” Slam saluted the mare, before donning his shield and spear. He moved even closer beside her, close enough to feel her body heat through the chinks of his armour. If he wasn’t married, it might have created some tension between them.
Gridlock concentrated and let her magic wrap around the fallen tree. Summoning all her might, she gritted her teeth and lifted-
Thunk!
Gridlock opened her eyes. Slam had his arm over her neck, covering the weak spot with a metal-clad hoof.
Tick.
The thing that had nearly gone through her throat bounced harmlessly to the rocky ground.
It was a quill, a serrated arrow.
Slam growled. “The bushes. They move. ‘Pine attack! ‘Pine attack!”
Once their cover was blown, the creatures erupted from the ground. Where before, spikey bushes had littered the landscape, now there were brown hounds darting between the trees. Chencipines: great maned wolf-like creatures that could make the hairs on anyone’s neck stand on end, including their own. Trouble was, they could also shoot the hairs on their necks, and with enough force to pierce flesh at that. A few dozen of them came rushing in, bristles ablazing. Whistling sounds of quills flying towards the convoy filled the air, followed by the excited and panicky “Wheek! Wheek! Wheek” of the capy guards. Before long, the first one had broken through the treeline and made it to the road, its pack right on its tail.
The first wave of the monsters lunged as one, a wave of flesh and spines airborne for a single moment.
And then the capies returned fire, and suddenly there weren’t quite as many hounds as there were a while ago.
Gridlock afforded herself a wince at the sight of the enemies getting impaled. “Ouch.”
Slam patted her on the back to snap her out of it. “Don’t get distracted now. The enemy’s on the convoy, escort’s on the enemy, we’re on the log. Get that thing out of the way, before the blood scent travels.”
Gridlock resumed her stance and cast her spell again. “Guess now we know what’s been raiding the supply lines.”
Slam nodded, always keeping an eye on the bushes around them. “Yeah, chencipines, quillhounds. Awful lot of them, though. At least the capies are shooting back.”
Gridlock braced herself and groaned, then slowly got the tree to move.
She felt the pressure of gravity spread into her body, her muscles contracting despite her best efforts. Her neck tensed and ached, and she was pretty sure she pulled a muscle in her haunches as she steadied herself. She put it past her, though, breathing calmly and steadily like she’d been taught. The magic took its toll, but she got her target off the ground, shaky though it was. It inched out of the way agonisingly slowly, but out of the way, regardless. Once it was off the road and dropped safely, she gasped for breath. She shook on her hooves, trying to get the dizziness to recede. “Okay, that’s done. Now once they stop charging us we should-”
“Get down!” Slam knocked her down and to the side. A louder ‘thud’ marked another projectile launched at her. She saw it bounce off Slam’s shield and jam itself into the ground. This quill was bigger, thicker, heavier.
Oh, no.
She felt the ground shake, like a stampede. Once she saw the source of the attack, her very life passed before her eyes.
Breakfast at the first day of kindergarten. Oats and milk.
First Nightmare Night. She went as a skeletal lich, so her mother could keep track of her in the mob of zombies.
Career day in high school. The pride on her father’s face when she mentioned she might be a Royal Guard one day.
Prep school. The burn of her muscles. Headaches from studying.
First mission, meeting Slam.
And finally, this. This one moment. Her death.
A howling monster of a wolf, the size of a manticore, covered in a mane quills.
The pack alpha.
It leaped at her, teeth at the ready.
“Not today!” Slam brought down his front hooves on its head to stun it in mid-air. Even with Earth pony strength, the thing just shook off the blow, before trying to lunge for the unicorn’s supposed protector.
Slam took a bite to the bracer on his right hoof, then a swipe from the claw against his chest plate.
Slam fell back, thrown like a rag doll. Blood and metal scattered through the air, claws finding the chink in his plates.
The alpha turned on Gridlock again. She tried to move, to get back on her hooves, but the spell had worn her out. As much as she prided herself on her power, she was no Celestia. She forced out more magic to her horn, trying to conjure lightning but only managing a fizzle.
The thing lowered its head, three spines of its mane bent forward. One was aimed straight at her throat, the other two would scatter and probably pierce bone at that range. Behind her, more ‘pines fell to the arbalests, and the ponies took care of any holes in the defense while the capy shooters reloaded.
She needed a shield, fast.
“I said: no!”
Slam jumped in front of her again. Right when he was in position, she felt something knock him back and into her, but he wasn’t even winded. She saw the quills scatter on impact, no doubt bouncing off what was left of his armour.
The alpha, however, was surprised by his second wind, and against an angry Earth pony that sort of lapse in attention was lethal.
Slam rammed into the thing with his hooves again, before getting his shield and, true to his name, slamming it into the alpha’s skull. It buckled under the onslaught, but even after that blow it still had enough strength to stand on its hind paws and swipe for him.
Slam took the beating on his shield, driven back a step, then two. He couldn’t see his spear, probably dropped it at the first blocked shot.
But Earth pony soldiers were known for improvising in the heat of battle. With one smooth motion, he kicked up one of the alpha’s spent quills, got it in his front hooves, and stabbed the alpha in the neck.
A bloodcurdling yowl went through the air. The other quillhounds, the ones that hadn’t been routed yet, shivered and slowly started backing away.
Slam growled and jammed the quill in deeper, before finishing it with another double-hooved blow to the skull. The thing went down, and if the quill hadn’t been enough of an indicator, the mushy state of its face left little question as to whether it was dead or not.
Silence fell. The road was clear. The hounds were gone.
The capies wheeked at each other in confusion. Gridlock was barely aware of what was happening, with the magic exhaustion and adrenaline rush.
“You saved me.”
“Royal Guard duty, Griddy.”
Behind them, an excited voice could be heard. “Do you realise what you’ve done? You’ve killed an alpha! Their whole pack will be finished here!”
Grid’s ears perked when she heard Slam’s breathing grow ragged. “Governor’s pleased, at least. Probably get you a capy medal. Slam, you okay?”
When she saw the front of him, she gasped. “No.”
Slam’s face was contorted in agony. He’d pushed her out of the way of one of the alpha’s shots. That quill was now sticking out of a bloody hole in its body. He’d bodyblocked the second shot. Two of those quills lay behind her. The third was now sticking out of a bloody hole in his chest.
“But… the armour…”
Slam rolled his eyes. “‘Sign up today’, they said.”
He collapsed.
"Ugh..."
Bright lights. Green walls. The smell of antiseptic. The sting of a chencipine quill right through the chest. Bandages over the stinging area, good sign.
"Mister Slam? Sir? Sir, can you hear me?"
The stallion tried to move, to sit up. Blinking bleary eyes and taking in a big gulp of breath, he was rewarded with agony, but an upright position nonetheless. "Aaah... yeah, I can hear you. And see you. Hellooo, nurse. Where am I and how much time do I have?"
The nurse was a capybara, with a brown and white coat, dark brown eyes, and no arbalest on her back. This, to Slam, suggested she was a civilian. She chitchitted her teeth together in annoyance. "You are in Milagro General, the military ward. Your squad took heavy fire."
"No, the chencipines threw heavy fire. We did a lot more than just take it."
"Hey, Griddy," Slam greeted. "How's the head and horn?"
Gridlock grumbled and stumbled into the room. “Better now. I shouldn’t have frozen like that.”
“Come on, you lifted a whole tree, while under fire. Cut yourself some slack.”
“Doesn’t make it okay.”
“How’s the rest of the gang?”
"Good. Everyone made it back safe and sound, except for a few scrapes, and except for you. The first round of return fire really took the wind out of’em, but the alpha would have turned it around if you hadn’t stepped in. The capybaras are very grateful, Blueblood nearly had a heart attack, but he’ll live. Now why did you have to go and do something stupid like that?"
Slam chuckled. “Guy’s gotta cover his ‘corn, right?”
“You know what I mean, Slam.”
Slam rubbed his sore and bandaged chest. He clenched his jaw. "I promised I’d be on time. I wasn’t going to let some cocky quillhound alpha mess up my timing.”
“You’re a fool, Slam.”
He winced. “I’m a father who keeps his promises. Now, how bad is it?"
"You took an armor-piercing quill to the chest. One of your ribs was sawed through from the impact. Your heart was pierced," Gridlock replied. “That’s not even mentioning the flesh wounds from the claws. Your plating got knocked clean off on the side, you should have been cut in half. You’re lucky to be alive.”
The stallion sighed and sat back, trying to bite through the pain. It worked, but only just. There was definitely something off about the spot where he’d taken a swipe, but nothing he couldn’t handle. The ache in his chest, though, that was worrisome. "Wait, how long was I out?"
"You've only missed a day," Grid replied. "You can do it now, if you like."
“Do what?” The nurse asked.
“Get my son his birthday present,” Slam replied. “I promised I’d get him something, so I will.”
"Excuse me?" The nurse furrowed her brow. "Mister Slam is not going anywhere."
"Silly capybara naming conventions," Slam said. "My name is not Mister Slam, okay? It's Mister Tilt, Slam Tilt.”
“Very well, then, Mister Tilt. You are in no condition to be moving. Your heart was damaged.”
“But it’s repaired now, isn’t it?”
Gridlock sighed and sat down next to his bed. “Barely. You need to rest now, Slam. It was touch and go for a while. You can’t take any more risks.”
“What, so lying in bed doing nothing is less of a risk than getting my son a birthday present?”
Griddy rolled her eyes. “Do you even know what you’re going to get him?”
“Sure I do. I’ll, umm, I’ll browse around the store, see what he likes.”
Griddy groaned. “You don’t even know where to look.”
“Oh, and you do?”
Gridlock folded her arms in front of her chest. “As a matter of fact, yes. I think I do. I think I’ve got a little more experience in the matter than you.”
Slam looked away. “Look, I promised, okay? That’s kind of a big deal in my household. It’s a big day, I can’t just do nothing.”
Griddy nodded. “I know, I understand. Tell you what, I’ll help you out. You’re buying, though, got it?”
“Of course.”
“Excuse me, but Mister Tilt is no condition to go out buying anything. Besides, you’re not going to get to Equestria anytime soon,” the nurse remarked. “If you’re going to send a package, you’re better off waiting until you can think clearly again.”
Slam let out a weary sigh. “I am aware of how far I am from home, thank you. Now, am I to understand I'm in a civilian hospital?"
The big rodent nodded. "Yes, sir.”
"Does this hospital have an open comline to the Infonet?" Slam asked.
"Ah, some of the wards are insulated, but, yes, it does. You can get a connection here, I suppose. Why do you ask?"
"Gritty, would you mind?"
Gridlock nodded. "I'll go get you a computer."
Slam chuckled. "And if it's not too much trouble-"
"One that can handle some work, don’t worry. I know."
Button Mash sat, as he always did this time of night, downstairs. He kept his nose in the book he'd gotten from Silver Spoon. It was three hours after sundown, almost bedtime for him. He didn’t yawn, though, not with the excitement of the day still fresh in his mind.
"Have fun today?" Carrot Mash asked.
Button shrugged. "Yeah, mom. It was fun, thanks." His left ear twitched.
“Your ear’s twitching again, sweetie. Anxious?”
Button nodded eagerly. “He’s supposed to be in Milagro by now, right? And off duty?”
“That’s what he said. He might be delayed, though. If he can’t come online today, you know that doesn’t mean anything.”
“But he promised, mom. He said he would.”
“I know he promised, honey, but you have to understand sometimes-”
“Calling Ponyville! This is Slam Tilt calling Ponyville, come in, Ponyville!”
Button didn’t even close his book. With one smooth motion, he rushed into the computer room where the call had come from, got on the chair and plugged in his headset, with the microphone already down. "Dad?"
"Hey there, champ! How's it feel to be a decade old?" Slam Tilt's voice came with a rasp and a cough.
"I dunno, dad, it feels kinda the same as yesterday, I just have more stuff now. What's wrong with your throat? Did you catch a cough? You're not allergic to rodents, are you?"
Slam Tilt chuckled. Even that close to bedtime, he could count on his boy to ask the smart questions. He coughed again, and groaned through the headset.
Button did notice, of course, but before he could ask more, his dad surprised him.
"Open your Vapour account."
"Huh?" Button clicked around on the computer screen to open up Vapour, the online games library he and his dad were signed up on.
It wasn't so much that Slam had wanted to sign up, it's just that Button really liked video games, Vapour tended to be the easiest way to get them, and Slam had slowly started getting into the hobby as a result. Very slowly, given his duties.
There was always the concern for Button’s grades, of course, as well as the danger of addiction. But his grades had gone up since acquiring his little library of games, and it was easy enough to keep him away from the computer room if need be. Button could still go without gaming for a few days or weeks, if he had to, which was the major concern of both his parents and his teacher.
Vapour was a convenient system like that: purchased games were added to an account, meaning there were no disks that could break or get lost and reinstalling games after getting a new computer was an easy matter. It had started as a fad back in the day, then settled into a mainstay of video games.
Not only that, but the online store had a good amount of games that simply didn't come in physical copies any more, meaning there was never any rush to get a new game as it came out. It was a social network, too, but Button rarely used it like that. Most of his actual friends, he only hung out with in real life. He didn’t have a use for all the features.
But for his father, at the other end of the world, Vapour did allow for some other, more practical advantages.
Button saw the welcoming screen, and the notification of a message on the top right, one with his dad’s username on it.
You have been gifted a new game by Pinhead77.
"Snorks Must Die 2?! You got me Snorks Must Die 2?" Button screamed, loud enough for his mother to hear.
"Not so loud, champ, you don't want the neighbours to complain again. But yeah, I told you I'd get you a game for your birthday. I know how much you liked the first one, even if it's a little too violent," Slam lied. In reality, Griddy had checked his son’s library and noticed the first Snorks Must Die game in his collection. According to Gridlock, apparently Button had good taste in strategy games. Slam Tilt wasn’t familiar enough with it all to really tell, he just knew his son liked one particular part of the online store.
Button let the game install immediately. "Oh, my gosh, this is gonna be so cool. This one's got co-op and everything. You can split your traps and then go shoot Snorks in two different lanes."
"Yup," Slam said, pretending he understood that before coughing again. "How about a couple rounds, huh?"
"Wait, you're gonna play, too? With me?"
“I promised, didn’t I?”
Button smiled. “Yeah, you did. But are you allowed to play games right now?”
"Sure I am, why wouldn’t I be? I just gotta log out and log in with a different account, hang on."
Button waited anxiously. That ragged breath came through the headset, sending shivers down his spine. "Dad? Are you okay? You don't sound so good."
"There, I'm in. I'm sending a friend invite."
You have been invited by NittyGrittyWarlock.
Button clicked 'Accept'. "Okay, I accepted. Dad, where are you? What happened?"
"Well, I did what I was supposed to, of course. Escorted the governor, protected the convoy, protected the ponies and capies. I got a little banged up covering my ‘corn, so now I'm in the hospital. I'm on a laptop, so I might be kinda laggy. Can you start the game?"
Button didn't reply. He just hit the buttons.
The music that greeted him was a bombastic orchestra fitting a heroic entry, the sort that would be heard in the cheesiest of Saturday morning cartoons, a mix of medieval and metal that he’d learned to love in the first game. The title screen was just like the first game’s, too: big, flashy letters, a background that showed the blue nexus he was supposed to protect, and dead bodies littering the ground. "Dad, this is so cool."
"I know, that's why I got it. Gonna make your character already?"
A couple more clicks and some typing, and Button was ready to go. A burly War Mage was his choice: the same big-chinned unicorn character as in the first game. The only character in the first game, in fact. Apparently the sequel let you play the villain from the first one, too. "Okay, I'm ready. Which level do you wanna play?"
Button heard more coughing and two female voices speaking, along with a slight beep. "Dad, am I on speaker?"
On the other end, Slam chuckled again. "Speaker? No, of course not. Why would I do that?"
Button felt the hairs on his neck stand on end. "Is anypony else there, listening? Could you please say something if you are?"
No response.
"See? How about we do something simple, like 'Halberd'?"
Button went through the right menus again. When the level was done loading, his avatar was there, along with a female one, presumably the Sorceress character. "Dad, why are you playing a girl?"
"Because the owner of this account is a girl, of course, one that’s got more stuff unlocked. Now watch how it's done. I'm gonna run over to the entrance where the hounds will spawn, and I'm gonna put down Frost Traps here, here, and... oh, here."
Button's character struggled to keep up. Looking at the map, he already saw the flaw in his father's plan. "Umm, dad? No offense, but you're gonna wanna set up your killbox way farther down. There's three lanes of attack coming, and the central hall's easier to barricade off. You're only gonna want to block off this passage after three waves or so, to thin them out. So, umm, I'm gonna go set up Spike Traps over there, if you don't mind."
Another chuckle came through the headset, followed by a round of heavy coughing.
"Dad? What's going on?"
Button heard a commotion on the other end. Two female voices, his dad arguing, then coughing, then sighing.
Then breathing, heavy breathing.
Slower breathing.
"Dad?"
Silence.
"Dad? Dad, what's going on? Dad?!" Button felt tears start to well up in his eyes. “Nurse? Is there a nurse nearby?”
"Hello?" One of the female voices spoke now. "Is this Button Mash I'm talking to?"
Button gulped. "Yes. Who are you?"
"Oh, you don't know me, my name's Gridlock, I’m one of your dad’s squadmates."
"Gridlock? Like a chokepoint or bottleneck?"
"Yup. Military ancestors, traffic cop parents, long story. So, your dad tells me you're a gamer, huh? You like these strategy games?"
Button bit his lip. If this mare was in dad’s squad, he had to be nice to her. He couldn’t be rude to her; his dad would kill him. "Uhuh. I like the planning. Really think hard, you know? It's easier to do when you've got it in front of you, when you can move around to think."
“You don’t get nightmares, then? Some of these games get pretty violent, and scary, with all the monsters.”
The boy shrugged, even though Gridlock wouldn’t see it. “I know. But you kill the monsters, usually. And they’re not real anyway, they’re just pixels. It’s for fun.”
“You wouldn’t wanna do it in real life, then?”
“Uh-uh. It looks pretty painful, even when it’s not real. I just wanna have fun, you know?”
"Hmm." He could hear the mare's approval ring through. "You do still read books, though, right?"
"Of course. Books are fun, too, they're just not the same as games."
"Good lad."
The Sorceress and Warmage stood face to face. The Sorceress didn’t move.
As much as Button tried to be polite, he couldn’t keep up the smalltalk much longer. "Umm, Miss Gridlock?"
"Call me Griddy."
"Griddy, why isn't my dad on anymore?" Button felt something reach for his throat and squeeze.
"He, uh, he had to get away from the screen for a little bit."
"But he's gonna be back, right?"
Silence, then a sigh.
"No. I’m sorry, but he’s not gonna come back."
The sobs that had built up finally erupted. He threw the headset off and buried his head in his arms.
"What's the matter, honey? What's wrong with Slam?" His mother yanked out the headset to put the game on speaker again. She could deal with the neighbours' complaints later.
"Hello! Kid, get back here! Hello?! Someone answer me!"
Button quickly plugged the thing back in and lowered the mike. "Yes?" He still sobbed. He made some adjustments to the settings so he could speak and his mother could still listen.
“Put your mom on.”
“This is Carrot Mash,” the mare said, speaking into the microphone on her son’s head. “What’s happened to my husband?”
“What happened to my dad?” Button asked.
A sigh came through the connection. "Okay, the truth is, your father didn't want to muck up your birthday. I know he made a big promise and everything, but I guess it can't be helped now. We were on protection duty today. Standard convoy through the savannah, capy governor, couple of pony officials, the usual. We were waylaid by chencipines."
"Chencipines?" Carrot asked.
"Like porcupines, but more dog than pig, if you catch my drift. Wild animals, but smart enough to get organised, and vicious. They’re not that bad one on one, but they can shoot their quills pretty hard, so sneak attacks can be pretty dangerous. They set up a roadblock for us.”
Button gulped. “Chokepoint to lure out the casters. Who was on cushion duty?”
Silence fell on the other end.
“You know what cushion duty is?”
Button nodded. “First unicorn to stand still to cast a spell gets turned into a pin cushion. My dad told me.”
Griddy chuckled. “Well, to answer your question, it was me. I was on cushion duty, your dad covered me. The ‘pines charged once I started pushing. We, umm, we fought'em off, the first wave. Most of them went for the convoy, not me. But then when the fight got messy, the alpha showed up and, well, alpha 'pines don't go down easy, and they hit a lot harder. Your dad, he, ah, he took a quill to the heart, at point blank range."
Button sobbed again. "No."
"Yup. He's okay, though, that's what I'm trying to tell you. You Earth ponies, you're made of sturdier stuff than us unicorns. That thing was aiming for me. Your dad saved my life taking that shot, and he got even, let me tell ya. He got that thing, good.”
"But... he's not..."
"No, kid, no. He's just tired right now, and he’s more tired from trying to put up a brave face, that’s all. Mister Pinhead over here doesn't know when to take a break, and he doesn't listen to mere nurses. He's passed out again, he’s been doing that all day after he got out of surgery. They're giving him some painkillers right now, he’ll probably be up again by tomorrow morning. He's gonna be out of it for a while now, though. And, umm…”
“What?”
Gridlock sighed. “He’s healed, but healing magic isn’t exactly, you know, perfect. So, if you could you do me a favour, Button? When your dad gets home and you give him a hug, don’t tacklehug him, would you? If you want to run or play with him, make sure he can keep up? I don’t know how much of the damage is gonna last. And he probably won’t want to admit to it, so, err…”
Button nodded and sniffled. “I understand. I’ll be careful. It’s okay if he can’t play right now.”
“Yeah, sorry. I don't think he's got any gaming in him today. Besides, looking at the traps here, I don't think he'd have done a good job at it, anyways."
Button let out a hearty laugh. "Uhuh, I always beat him in Battle for Ostoo."
He heard the sound of a laptop being moved. "I haven't played this game since last time I was home, but I think I remember how to do this one, actually."
“Y-you wanna play with me?”
“Your dad promised, and I owe him one. Besides, I want to see what the son of Slam Tilt can do when he’s got his own arsenal. Do you want me to set up the killbox for you, or do you wanna figure it out yourself?”
"Umm, I wanna figure it out myself, but I've only got the basic traps."
"Don't worry. You just say where, I'll set'em up for ya. And then we can mess up some Snorks, sound like fun?"
"Yeah."
Silence fell as the Sorceress and War Mage made their way back to the main hall.
"Don't worry about your dad, kid. He'll be back home soon, I promise. In the meantime, I'll fill in for his birthday duties. Oh, which reminds me: happy birthday, Button Mash."
"Thanks, Gridlock. Okay, looks like I'm gonna want Arrow Walls here, and I think you should start with Acid Sprayers here and here..."
Gridlock smiled to herself as Button laid out his battle plan. She tried not to smirk too much when he completely forgot about the waterways in the level, where some new enemies would spawn from. He would probably squeal with excitement once they got that far. And then they’d both die horribly, overrun by Nagas. Part of the fun.
She bit down the pain as it shot up her head.
Light dehydration, magic exhaustion, and a few scratches that had to be treated for infection. At least healing magic stopped the scarring.
She was battered and boiled, but not beaten. She hadn’t taken a quill, like some of her squadmates had.
‘Sign up today’, they said.
“Okay, I’m done,” Button said. “Ready?”
Gridlock took a long, hard look at the killbox Button had set up. Aside from the waterways he didn’t know about, he covered his bases pretty well. Not bad for a first-timer, she had to admit. Maybe Slam’s son had more strategic insight. Maybe Button got his temperament from his mother.
“Yup. We can sit back and let the traps do the killing. Just hit ‘G’ and-”
The doors at the start of the level burst open, a horde of enemies came forth to rush to their deaths.
“For the Order!” The War Mage ran forward, blunderbuss at the ready to thin out the crowds before they ever even reached the killbox.
Griddy rolled her eyes. So much for strategic insight. “Yup, you definitely got that from your father.”
The End