Berlin was falling. Of that there could be no doubt. The once glorious army of the Third Reich lay in ruins, pushed to its very capital by the Red Army of the Soviet Union. In the West, the Allies swept in like a vengeful tide. It came down to one battle. It came down to one final battle, in the ruins of the German capital. It was a symbolic gesture of defiance really. The downfall was inevitable.
Six years of war had not been kind to the city. What was once an urban metropolis had been ground to the earth, powdered by constant air-raids from Allied bombers. Civilians flooded the streets, fleeing the wrath of the Red Army as they burned a vengeful swath through the city. Soldiers—children really—held strategic choke points in the city. Everyone was desperate, the air smelled of it. Every now and then, a shell would fall close to a convoy of civilians fleeing the city. They would flinch, staring apprehensively towards the explosion, hoping, praying that the Russians would not find them.
SS-Oberführer Dieter Heinrich couldn’t care less whether or not the Russians found the civilians. His current priority was the preservation of his own life, not those of those too weak to take up arms. Dieter knew that it was over. The Third Reich was collapsing. The Fuhrer was most likely dead. The only logical choice was to flee the wrath of the Soviets. Dieter could understand the Russians’ vindictiveness. He could even respect it. After all, he and his comrades had raped Russian land and massacred millions of their people, most of them innocent. That did not mean that he would accept his own fate. He had seen what the Russians did to SS officers, and he had no intention of becoming another corpse hanging from a tree.
Two Russians rounded the corner of the street. They saw Dieter, and wildly opened fire in his direction, caring not if they hit German civilians. Dieter dived for cover behind a pile of rubble. He felt a piece of wood penetrate his arm. The adrenaline coursing through his veins dulled the pain. Dieter unstrapped his Maschinenpistole-40 submachine gun. Flicking the safety off, he moved into a crouching position so that he could aim over the rubble. Dieter fired two shots.
The first round went through the eye of the first Russian soldier, bursting the eyeball and severing the optic nerve and entering the soft, grey brain tissue behind. The round continued travelling for a fraction of a second before being stopped by the density of the brain matter. The Russian twitched from nerve shock and collapsed face first to the ground.
The second round punched through the other Russian’s jugular a millisecond later. Its sheer velocity shattered his larynx. The round then ricocheted off of his spine and emerged through the side of his throat, spinning end over end as it severed his carotid artery. The Russian made a gargling noise as he tried to breathe despite the hole in his throat. Blood bubbled as he expired, and he collapsed into the mud, dead.
It had taken less than two seconds.
Dieter felt nothing. He felt no joy, no relief, nor did he feel horror that he had taken two lives. He had taken many before, and would likely take many more. It was war. They had attacked him. Now they were dead.
Dieter got up from behind the rubble. He glanced at his arm, wincing slightly as he saw the wood jutting out of his wound. He relaxed his arm, closing his hand around the wood, he quickly yanked the wood out. Blood gushed from the open wound. Dieter promptly brought out a flask of schnapps. Quickly taking a swig, he poured it onto the wound, gritting his teeth as he did so. It hadn’t been the worst pain he had felt. It would pass. Dieter took out a piece of cloth, and expertly bandaged the wound. It was not perfect, but it would do. His healing done, Dieter looked around. The civilians had gone, either taking cover within the structure still standing, or rounding the corner of the street to escape the city. Dieter shrugged, and continued walking.
It was night time. Dieter had walked for a further six hours after he killed the two Russians. The sounds of battle were dying down, although flares and explosions still punctuated the silent night with blinding flashes of red light. Dieter was almost out of the city. By his estimates, he had only two more blocks to go. His arm was burning, and Dieter was almost tempted to lay down and sleep as the exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him. Dieter refused to give in. He had been trained to be as steel: unbendable, unbreakable. He stumbled onward.
Dieter saw the edge of the city in the distance. He was nearly there! He was going to make it. He would live after all!
Dieter’s pace quickened as he felt hope of survival. A shot rang out. Dieter suddenly felt pain in his sternum. Looking down, he saw a massive opening in his chest. Dieter cursed silently. Of course the Russians would have posted snipers. Dieter cursed again. Was this some cruel trick of fate? He had been so close! He sank to his knees, his normally straight posture sagging as he felt an overwhelming tiredness seize him. Dieter fell back, and there was darkness.
Dieter awoke gasping. How that was possible he did not know. After all, he had been shot. Was he dead? He wasn’t sure. The pain hit him. He was quite sure that the dead felt no pain. Of course, the pain could simply mean that he was in hell. He inhaled. The air was fresh, and scented of flowers. He was laying on grass. He opened his eyes. The sun’s golden rays shone through the trees. He decided that it was too pleasant to be hell. It must have meant that he was alive. There was supposed to be no pain in heaven, and he was not hell.
Dieter got up. He found that the crater that had been in his chest was no longer there. He checked his arm. The puncture wound had also mysteriously healed. However, his uniform was caked in blood and dust, and he still had his weapons. Dieter took in his surroundings. He seemed to be in forest. He was confused. How did he get there? He distinctly remembered being shot in the ruins of Berlin. Dieter randomly picked a direction and began to walk.
Dieter had been walking for about twenty minutes when he heard what sounded like hoof steps. He unstrapped his MP-40 and cautiously advanced towards the noise. It could have been a Russian patrol. Dieter crouched low, aiming over foliage. He made sure that he had a clear line of site, so he could return fire if necessary. Dieter was a hardened veteran of the Eastern Front. It was almost impossible to surprise him. What he saw did surprise him.
Twilight Sparkle disliked making trips to the Everfree forest. It was dark and spooky, and full of ravening, rabid monsters. She always made a point bringing somepony along with her, even on mundane trips such as visiting Zecora for a recipe. Fluttershy was the logical choice. After all, she seemed to have an almost mystical connection with animals. Fluttershy was timid at the best of times, despite her ability to calm the angriest of creatures. Fluttershy was at ease at the moment, but things changed quickly.
As the two ponies cantered past a group of bushes, there was a sudden rustling. Twilight’s head pivoted, and she found herself looking at a strange bipedal creature. It wore strange clothing that reminded Twilight of the military uniforms that her brother, Shining Armor wore. As Twilight looked closer, she noticed that the clothes were caked in blood. In the creatures hooves (Hands, Twilight corrected herself.) was a strange boxy implement, made of dark metal. Twilight noticed that the creature had a similar, smaller one on its belt. With a shudder, Twilight noticed a knife hanging beside it on the belt. The creature had a hard, angular face, and blue eyes, like those of a baby. It wore a hat, that Twilight noticed with a start had a skull insignia marked upon it. Beneath the hat was blonde fur. The fur did not extend past the top of the head. Fluttershy whimpered, hiding behind Twilight. Twilight couldn’t blame her. The creature appeared terrifying.
Twilight swallowed her fear and spoke anyway, “Hi, my name is Twilight Sparkle. What is your name?”
The creature blinked, “You speak English?”
Dieter was surprised. Standing right here before him were two garishly colored equines. Moreover, they seemed sentient, and could speak. At least, the purple one could. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that the one that identified itself as Twilight Sparkle had a purple horn protruding from its head. Dieter saw that its mane and tail were styled much in the same way a human female would style her hair. Indeed, the creature’s voice sounded as though it was a female’s voice. The main was a darker colour than the rest of the unicorn’s body, with a streak of crimson running through it. It also had dark purple eyes that appeared disturbingly human, although slightly larger. Dieter found it extremely disconcerting that they appeared sapient. The light betrayed a presence of mind that any normal animal would lack.
The second equine was a buttery yellow colour. It cowered behind the unicorn (Twilight Sparkle, Dieter reminded himself.). It had a pink mane and tail, and green eyes. The pupils, Dieter noticed, had contracted. The creature obviously found him intimidating. Dieter noted that this one had wings. Dieter knew he had seen something similar in a book during his childhood. He searched for a name. He found it. The creature was called a pegasus. These creatures were like those out of a fairy tale!
Twilight Sparkle, the purple equine frowned. That too was frightening. These creatures could make facial expressions, despite the fact that they had snouts. Dieter held out his hand to placate the two…ponies? They did not seem dangerous. Dieter had no idea why he was even attempting to communicate with them. They were after all, abominations, animals with human minds.
“You speak English?” Dieter asked again.
Twilight’s frown deepened, “You speak Equestrian.” It was a statement, not a question.
“What are you?” Dieter queried.
Twilight blinked, obviously confused. “We are ponies. What are you?”
Dieter’s response was cut short by a roar. It sounded like an enraged animal, a lion perhaps. What leaped out of the bushes was not, in fact a lion. It was a horrid amalgamation of several animals. He had the body and head of a lion, but also had a scorpions tale, and bat wings. Dieter recognized it as a manticore. He snapped around to face it, with his MP-40. The manticore charged. Both ponies screamed and backed away. Dieter pulled the trigger.
Twilight was afraid. First this odd creature appeared, obviously sentient, and obviously a soldier. Next, they had come under attack from a manticore. It was shaping up to be an absolutely nerve-wracking day. Fluttershy looked absolutely terrified, and was breathing heavily.
“Run, Fluttersh-!” Twilight was cutoff by three explosions in quick succession. She saw flames leaping out of the creature’s weapon. The weapon was devastating. The manticore’s right eye was blown out of its socket. Next, its ear was torn off by some great force. Finally, a bright crimson hole opened up in the manticore’s throat. The manticore fell and ceased breathing. Fluttershy nearly fainted at this casual display of violence, and Twilight nearly retched. Worse was yet to come.
A second manticore charged out of the bush. The creature did not show any surprise, it took it all in stride. It simply pivoted to face the second attacker. There was another succession of explosions, and the second manticore’s face was blown open, brain matter spattering the ground behind it. This time, Twilight did vomit. There was faint rustling in the bushes. The creature parted the leaves. There were five manticore cubs, hidden within. Twilight gasped as the creature calmly killed all five of them, blowing their heads off. There was no emotion in his eyes, his breathing didn't change. It was almost as if the killing did not compute with him. This grisly display had taken thirty seconds. Twilight paled. The creature replaced his weapon. It closed its eyes, and breathed deeply. It smiled. It was not a smile of mirth, of joy, or even of victory. It was the smile of a predator, cold and vicious.
Fluttershy was silent for some time, shocked by the violence so indifferently inflicted. She suddenly shouted, “How dare you! How dare you! How could you just kill them like that? They were a family! You can’t do that!”
The creature glanced at her and shrugged.
Fluttershy persisted, “You big meanie! You don’t even care!”
Again, the creature shrugged.
Fluttershy looked the creature in the eye, and stared. Her anger overriding all thought of self-preservation. Her eyes widened, and she gritted her teeth, her fury making itself clear. The creature stared back. Fluttershy suddenly felt an overpowering fear. This creature had killed seven manticores without a second’s thought. When it looked back at her, she felt the boredom in its eyes, the cold indifference. It really didn't care. The creature could easily kill her if it wanted to. Fluttershy deflated.
The creature turned to Twilight. It spoke.
“ I am Oberführer Dieter Heinrich of the Waffen- Schutzstaffel of the Third Reich, and I am a human.”
Twilight had eventually gotten over her shock. She bombarded Dieter with a multitude of what he considered to be inane questions. She asked him about everything, from his uniform to where he came from. He answered each questions levelly. Fluttershy remained silent throughout the trip, her head bowed, as though she was afraid of him. She likely was, Dieter thought. Apparently killing was not the best way to make acquaintances. The questions continued. He continued answering.
Dieter eventually gave Twilight an entire summary of the war, from that fateful day, the 1st of September 1939 to his near-death in Berlin. Quite a few of the details appeared to make Twilight physically ill. Dieter continued. Twilight became increasingly sickened as Dieter described the atrocities committed by both sides on the Eastern Front, and the fact that millions had died there. Twilight began to think that bringing him to Ponyville was not a very good idea. This man was a hardened killer.
“You killed how many…uh…people?” Twilight asked in terror.
“One hundred and eighty-six,” Dieter had responded. He paused. “ No. One hundred and eighty-eight.”
Twilight was horrified. This man had killed the equivalent to half of Ponyville’s population. Not for the first time, she began to question the logic of her choice. This man could possibly be hostile, and had the capability to massacre everypony in the town. She could only hope that he remained as friendly as he had been. If he was not, they were doomed.
They continued on in silence quite some time. Finally Twilight asked him another question. How did his weapon work? She wished that she had not as he went into a long winded description of his weapons’ capabilities. The way he casually described how the weapons dealt death was terrifying for Twilight. Yet it was also fascinating. The Human’s technology far exceeded what she had considered possible. She wished she could take notes, despite her revulsion. She simply hoped that she could remember the hours worth of information that he had described to her.
A twig snapped, and Dieter suddenly pivoted on his heel, bringing his MP-40 up to his shoulder. His hard, cold, blue eyes pivoted in his head as he scanned for possible targets. Finally, seemingly confident that there was no threat he slowly lowered his weapon. The sudden movement reminded Twilight just what kind of world he came from. He came from a world of war. There had been two major in ones within the first fifty years of what the Humans called the 20th century. 90 million people had died, and that was simply a wild estimate. What kind of race could descend to such depths of depravity? What race could kill so many of their own? As a pony, war was a concept that seemed alien to Twilight. Their culture, the one that Princess Celestia had set up was one of pacifism. Such violence seemed unreal, yet she had seen it firsthand. It was chilling.
Twilight decided to tell the Dieter about Equestria’s history, from Discord’s rule to the modern period. She even told him of the Elements of Harmony. Dieter simply stared at Twilight with nothing short of incredulity. Twilight did not understand. What was so strange about the history of Equestria? She thought that it was awfully rude of him to scoff at her species’ heritage. Perhaps he thought of their species as soft. After all, his species had killed millions of their own in what seemed like a more or less constant state of war. Twilight though was interrupted as they entered Ponyville.
Dieter stared at the town before him with distaste. How soft could this race be? He had been taught almost all his life that everything consisted of the survival of the fittest. The ponies obviously were not fit. The village contained so many multi-hued buildings it horrified him. There was no uniformity, no order. He followed Twilight from the edge of what the ponies called the Everfree forest. He had no idea what scared them so much within the forest. It was nothing compared to Stalingrad.
He saw a cyan pegasus with a multicolored mane come racing towards him, its wings pumping furiously, her mane and tail causing a rainbow colored streak. He knew that it was going to attack. He rolled at the last moment, drawing his combat knife. The cyan pegasus struck a brown pony with a black mane at high velocities. The brown pony, he noted wore a suit, and had the bearing of one who thought he owned all he saw.
The brown pony, a colt he assumed, began to berate the cyan pegasus. He saw Twilight staring at the knife with fear. She shook her head at him, signalling that he should put it back. Dieter raised an eyebrow.
“She’s a friend, please don’t hurt her!” Twilight squeaked.
Dieter sheathed his knife. He approached the quarrelling ponies. He noted that the brown pony had three money bags as a “cutie mark” as Twilight referred to the symbols upon the ponies’ flanks. He frowned. The pony turned towards him, preparing to accost him for the intrusion upon what he believed to be a righteously indignant lecture. The pony’s tongue stopped as he saw not a pony, but a large, imposing figure.
Dieter leaned in close, “Are you a Jew?” He asked quietly as the pony shrank back from his intimidating form.
Dieter stared at the brown pony intently, his piercing blue eyes giving nothing away. Inside, he seethed. If this pony was indeed a Jew, he would die. The weak perish, the strong survive. That was the rule the Third Reich had always used. Dieter knew that his anger was more than that. The ghosts of the past still haunted him. He had dealt in death and been around it much too long to care anymore. Part of him was dead. He was no longer capable of compassion. It had died with his family.
The pony shrank back in fear. Dieter felt only distaste. This pony was a coward. He shrank back, fearing for his life. Dieter was surprised that he had survived this long. Only the strong deserve to live. The pony suddenly straightened his back. Dieter knew that pose. It was a pose that came whenever the rich were indignant. It was usually followed by a singular question.
“Do you know who I am?” The pony asked. “I am Filthy Rich! You eat because of me.”
Dieter felt like rolling his eyes. The name was strangely fitting. Dieter found himself suppressing cold laughter. He ate because of this minuscule creature? He could eat this stuck up parasite. Dieter’s face showed no emotion, ever the effective facade.
“Answer my question. Are you a Jew?” Dieter’s voice remained level, even mechanical. He took out his luger. It would be amusing to kill him.
“N...no!” Filthy Rich stammered.
Dieter sighed, holstering his luger. It was too bad, really. He really was looking forward to killing this waste of space. Dieter knew that he could not. It would not be the same. Dieter began to wonder why he even bothered. He quickly suppressed the thought. It was a shameful thing really, he was expected to kill for the Fuhrer. The Fuhrer is dead. He turned back towards Twilight.
The cyan pegasus, he noted was arguing quite forcefully with Twilight. Dieter picked up a few words. The blue coloured pegasus was referring to him as a “diamond dog”. Twilight was loudly assuring “Rainbow Dash” that Dieter was not, in fact, such a creature. Dieter sighed. He had always known that his arrival would be greeted with something less than enthusiasm. Everywhere he went, people had either been afraid of him, or hated him. Sometimes, he honestly couldn't blame them. He was, after all, a Nazi. No one liked Nazis.
Twilight gestured for him to follow her. Dieter shrugged. He followed. For all he knew they could be planning to gas him. If they did, the irony would not be lost on him. He knew what had happened in the concentration camps. They were death camps, really. He had never been in a camp. The Waffen-SS were devoted completely to combat. Concentration camps were for the SS-Totenkopfverbände, the infamous Death’s Heads. He had a few “friends” in that group. They were truly cold blooded. The probably had fewer emotions than he did. They were most likely dead by now. Dieter didn't care. He hadn't really cared for people for quite some time. What was the point? You cared for someone and they died. It always happened.
Twilight led him to what looked like a house built inside a tree. She lived there. The cyan pegasus, Rainbow Dash, had left sometime before, presumably to gather some other ponies. By the time Rainbow Dash returned, there were three others with her. Dieter observed them.
There was an orange one, with green eyes and a yellow mane and tail. The mane and tail were both tied into ponytails. The pun was not lost on Dieter. Even more surprising, she wore what looked like an American cowboy hat. She also spoke with an obvious American accent. Was it Texan? She had three apples for a cutie mark.
There was a white one, with blue eyes and a purple mane. The mane, strangely enough was styled to look...what was the word? Posh. She had three diamonds as a cutie mark. When she saw Dieter her eyes widened, and she spoke in abject horror. Here, standing before her, she had said, was a crime against “fabulosity”. Dieter couldn’t care less what she thought of his looks.
Finally, there was a pink one, also with blue eyes. She had an extremely unkempt mane. She didn’t walk. She bounced like there were springs in her legs. She had three balloons as a cutie mark. She was talking about throwing a “welcome to Ponyville party”. Dieter, as a rule, tended to avoid parties. They brought up many painful memories that he had buried with his cold demeanor.
The orange one introduce herself first.
“Howdy! My name is Applejack! Pleased to meet you!” She reached out as if to shake his hand.
“Touch me, and I will break your legs.” Dieter had responded. He didn’t like being touched.
Applejack was taken aback by the hostility displayed. What had she done wrong?
The white pony spoke next.
“My name is Rarity. You look horrid my dear. Allow me to fix up your uniform for you! It is a crime against fashion, all grey and whatnot!” Dieter noted the hopeful look in her eyes as she stared up at him.
“No.” Dieter replied. “You will not touch my uniform. It is against regulation to make alterations.”
Rarity blinked. How rude was this creature? She tried to display generosity, and he responded with indifference.
The pink one was introduced next.
“Omigoshomigoshomigosomigosh! I finally get to meet an alien! I am going to throw a party for you! Welcome to Ponyville! I’m Pinkie Pie.” She bounced up and down excitedly.
Dieter responded with silence. Pinkie Pie ("What an original name". Dieter thought) continued to bounce in circles around dieter, almost expectantly. When Dieter didn’t respond, she grabbed onto his leg and stared up into his eyes, her own widening and brimming with tears. Such displays were lost on Dieter. They only annoyed him. “Mein Gott!” Dieter thought. “They really are ignorant! Fashion...parties.” Dieter thought the last two words with distaste.
Finally, the cyan pegasus, Rainbow Dash, zipped around his head and landed before him.
“I’m Rainbow Dash! You better stop being so rude to my friends jerk, or you will have to deal with me.” She flew up to his eye level and bumped his chest with her hoof.
“Don’t touch me.” Dieter put emphasis on each word. “No one shall touch me.”
“Oh yeah? Or what? You bleed on them?” Rainbow Dash responded rather brashly, staring at the blood stains on his uniform.
“No. The last person who touched me, I stabbed multiple times in the heart with a combat knife.” Dieter said the words with a hint of amusement. He left out the fact that the person he stabbed was in fact and enemy soldier trying to kill him. The group of friends recoiled in horror. They had never heard someone speaking so casually of such violence.
“I am Oberführer Dieter Heinrich of the Waffen- Shutzstaffel, and you will refer to me as such.” Dieter stated loudly. The ponies glanced at each other. What did that even mean?
Dieter studied the room he was in silently. Twilights house, although built in a tree was quite cozy. He noted that there were shelves and shelves of books. Dieter had always enjoyed reading. He found reading to be edifying and quite refreshing. This place was apparently originally a library. On the surface, Dieter still did not give any reaction.
Dieter noticed a purple scaled, bipedal creature staring at him with wide, green eyes. Dieter assumed that it was a lizard of some sort. Twilight introduce the creature as “Spike”. Apparently, he was a baby dragon. Dieter resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course there would be a dragon! He was in a land governed by sentient Equines and control by two deities who apparently controlled the sun and moon. How could there not be dragons? Dieter wasn’t so much confused as he was annoyed. This was like some sort of fairy tale!
The dragon spoke, “So you’re an alien?”
“I am a human, not an alien.” Dieter responded with his usual impassive tone.
“Okay. That’s cool?” The dragon was obviously confused. The way Spike saw it, anything that was not a native to Equestria was an alien. How could this creature not define itself as such?
After the not-so-cordial introduction that Dieter had given the ponies, they seemed to be avoiding him as best they could. Dieter noticed them discussing him in the corner. At least, he assumed that he was the subject of their conversation, since they were constantly glancing at him. Of course, they could have simply been intimidated of him. Dieter preferred it when people were afraid of him. It gave him a gratifying feeling of empowerment.
Applejack, the orange one, came up to him. Dieter knew it was likely another attempt to get him to apologize for his coarse introduction. Applejack looked him up and down, frowning. Dieter remained still, standing in the centre of the room. He was almost like a statue. He still wore no facial expressions. He appeared even more emotionless that the Canterlot royal guards, and that was saying something.
Applejack spoke he words heavily accented, “You know what ah think, Mr. Heinrich? Ah think that you are very rude, and should at least try to be nice. What ah mean to say is that, we are showing you hospitality. You should at least try to be thankful.” Applejack looked up at him expectantly.
“One,” Dieter replied, “You will call me Oberführer, Oberführer Heinrich, or sir. You will not call me Mr. Heinrich. I hold a military rank, and will be addressed as such.”
Applejack narrowed her eyes.
“Two,” Dieter continued, “Do not presume to lecture me on my manners. I outrank you. Therefore, you will follow what I order, not vice versa.”
Applejack’s eyes became like slits.
Dieter noticed the other ponies staring at him, wide eyed. Rainbow Dash displayed obvious hostility towards his words. Dieter got the feeling that she did not find his demeanor endearing. Dieter didn’t care. His purpose was not to be endearing. He did not want to become attached to others, since they had a nasty habit of dying on him. Some died naturally, others were murdered, some shot on the battlefield, other torn apart by shell fragments. No, he could not afford to become attached to people, much less something that was not a human. Dieter still had not decided whether or not to designate them as an under-race, like the Jews.
Just as Dieter was about to turn away, a rainbow colored contrail zipped right up to him. For the second time in as many hours, Dieter found Rainbow Dash right in his face.
“Hey!” Rainbow Dash yelled, “No one talks to my friends like that! Do you hear me?”
Dieter smirked in amusement. It was the first time that day he had made a facial expression in front of others. The expression only seemed to infuriate Rainbow Dash, who had perceived that the expression was a mocking one. She charged him.
Dieter knew the attack was coming. It was written all over Rainbow Dash’s body language, from the tensing of the muscles to the clenching of the teeth, it had been obvious. As she came at him her hooves extended, Dieter side-stepped. His hand fell to his belt, and he drew his combat blade. In one fluid motion, he had his arm around a stunned Rainbow Dash. He brought the knife up to her throat. Rainbow Dash tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he was stronger by far.
“Do not attack me.” Dieter hissed. “Next time, I may not be so merciful.”
He let go of Rainbow Dash, who collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.
The stunned silence was almost deafening. Rainbow Dash, the fastest of them all had been bested in less than two seconds. The ponies couldn’t believe it. Dieter, they realized was a warrior that far outclassed them all, not to mention the fact that he was at least two feet taller than all of them. Dieter replaced his knife.
There was a sudden pounding at the door. Twilight telekinetically opened the door, noting the surprised look on Dieter’s face. Some things obviously did startle him. Perhaps his species weren’t capable of magic. A royal guard was framed in the door. Behind him was dragged an angry Diamond Dog. The guard spoke almost as coldly as Dieter, “We captured this creature when it was raiding. Its brethren have captured a few of our ponies, and we are unsure where they are being held. Since you are Princess Celestia’s student, we were wondering if you could use your magic for an interrogation.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t use my magic so brutishly!” Twilight replied, shocked.
“I understand, Miss Sparkle. It was worth a tr-“ The guard was cut off by loud footfalls.
Dieter, knife in hand approached the guard. Running his finger over the blade to test its sharpness, he spoke. There was more indifference in his voice than even what the guard was capable of.
“Allow me.” Dieter grinned wolfishly, his blue eyes fixed intently on the dog before him. He could finally do something that was slightly challenging. Interrogation, after all, was an art. The ponies shrank away from his fear inducing form. The Diamond Dog whimpered.
“You should be afraid.” Dieter declared as the dog began to struggle.
With a blade in hand, Dieter’s impassiveness was even more terrifying. He brandished the knife as he walked over to the Diamond Dog strapped to the table. The guard had demanded to stay behind to observe Dieter’s technique, and the rest of the ponies neither refused to go, nor refused to stay. They simply remained rooted to the ground in fear as Dieter sharpened the blade.
Dieter turned to the dog. “Here are the rules of this interrogation. You will answer my questions. If you answer my questions satisfactorily, you will have a quick death. If you do not, you will beg for death. If you are lying or refuse to answer, I will begin cutting parts off. I will work my way up.”
The dog whimpered and once more writhed against its bonds. Dieter approached, his face giving nothing away, no horror, no fear, no joy. It would not be the first time he had used such interrogation methods. The longest that anyone had held out against his probing was fifteen minutes. It was a miracle really, the primary SS method generally consumed much less time. Dieter would rather that the dog gave up right away, so that he would not have to waste his time so much.
“First, what is your name and designation?” Dieter asked coolly.
The dog didn’t respond, opting instead to grind its teeth. Dieter sighed. Dieter tightened his grip around the combat knife. He raised it over his head. He brought the sharp tip down directly into the dog’s foot, opening up a huge gash and eliciting a cry of pain from the dog. Dieter proceeded to carve through the skin and into the bone. The ponies gasped at the brutality displayed. They never thought that Dieter had actually meant what he said.
“No! No! Stop!”Begged the dog, panting from the pain, “I tell what you want!”
“Go on,” Dieter responded, lifting the knife. “Give your name and designation.”
“Me Bingo, me just grunt. Please no hurt us!” The dog whined pleading.
“Good. Tell me what I need, and I will end your pain.” Dieter replied emotionlessly. “Where are the ponies being held?”
“Me can’t tell you that! Me don’t know!” The dog frantically cried.
“I believe you.” Dieter turned away.
The dog sighed in relief, but suddenly howled as Dieter rounded on him with the knife. Dieter quickly castrated the dog. The guardspony turned green, despite his superior training. Fluttershy fainted from the horrifying scene before her. Pinkie Pie's mane deflated in horror, her carefree attitude vanishing into thing air. Applejack and Rainbow Dash squeezed their eyes shut. Rarity ran outside to vomit. Twilight simply stood rooted to the ground, rendered mute by the sheer brutality displayed.
“I always had my dogs neutered.” Dieter stated. “Now, answer my question!”
The dog panted, “They...being held...as...slaves in burrows outside...Ponyville.”
Rarity, who had re-entered the building despite her conscience screaming at her not to, nodded. She had been captured by Diamond Dogs once before while she was out collecting gems. She knew exactly where the dog was referring. She told Dieter what she knew. Dieter withdrew the blade.
“How many of your brethren are in these caverns?” Dieter asked.
The dog responded instantly, not wishing to endure the pain a moment longer. “They...about...seventy...or...more...” The dog’s voice had taken a high pitched quality. “Please...kill...me...” The dog pleaded.
“One more question, and I will grant you the silent mercy. I am a man of my word.”
“One...more...hng...question?” The dog’s breathing had become erratic, as the pain threatened to overwhelm him.
“What kind of weapons do you have?” Dieter asked, obviously interested.
“Mostly...clubs...hng!...knives...some swords. Kill...me.” The dog begged.
Dieter brought back the knife. He looked the dog in the eye. The dog stared back despite the pain. After what seemed like hours, but was in fact only a few seconds, Dieter brought the knife down into the dogs jugular, splitting larynx in half and severing several vital arteries. The dog breathed its last. Dieter remained impassive, even though on the inside, his stomach writhed. Dieter had had a dog in his childhood, the dog he had just killed reminded him too much of that happy time that he had long ago buried. Despite the facade of amusement, Dieter hated torture. He glance at the wall. The interrogation had only taken 2 minutes and 15 seconds, less than an average human.
As Dieter turned back towards the ponies, he saw them cowering at his glance. He didn’t blame them. He must have looked like a monster, covered in blood. Dieter wiped his bloodied knife on the dog’s fur and sheathed it. He looked at Rarity.
“Madame, would you be so kind as to guide me in the caverns. I will finish what I started.” Dieter’s eyes seem to glint with the prospect of a good fight. He was ready.
Rarity and Dieter stood before the hole in the earth. It was interesting, Dieter thought, that creatures that were obviously canine would live in the earth like moles. He slid his gas-mask over his face. He had stated that there could be certain pollutants in the air that necessitated the wearing of the mask. Truth be told, he wore it more for the scare factor. After all, what was more terrifying than an emotionless insectoid death mask? Rarity thought the mask was horrid, but didn’t comment.
Dieter pulled out one of his several Model 24 hand grenades. He noticed Rarity eyeing the grenade curiously. Dieter paused to see if she was going to say anything. She opted not to. Shrugging, Dieter proceeded to cock the grenade, much to Rarity’s surprise. He dropped it down the hole. After a few seconds, there was an earth shattering explosion and several howls of pain.
The ground was not far down. Dieter jumped. He hit the ground and rolled, MP-40 aimed further into the cavern. Rarity gave a grunt as she dropped down next to him. There was a scraping noise as several Diamond Dogs closed in. Dieter spotted the first one on the roof of the cavern. He aimed for the head, and pulled the trigger. Rarity shrieked as a loud explosion echoed through the cavern. The Diamond Dog’s head suddenly caved in, and the twitching corpse fell to the ground, dead. Dieter booted it with satisfaction. A text-book kill. Rarity, once again, had to resist the urge to vomit.
Dieter poked the barrel of his gun around a corner, peeking out after it. Two metal armored dogs came charging towards them. Dieter shot both of them through the visors, pulverizing their skulls. A third dog came charging through. There was another flash of bright yellow light as the bullet sped its way into the dog’s chest. The bullet pulverized the dog’s sternum, driving bone fragments into its heart. Finally the bullet severed the spine, sending the dog’s corpse sprawling to the ground in a pool of its own blood. It was quiet. Dieter nodded to himself. The dogs were intellectually compromised and easy to kill, inferior opponents for Germany’s elite. Walking forward, he found that the cavern branched off into five different sectors.
Dieter glanced at Rarity, noticing that she was shivering. “Lead on,” Dieter ordered.
Rarity knew where they were previously, but it could only stand to reason that they had harvested all the gems in that particular region of the cavern and had moved on. Rarity cast her gem-finding spell. The dogs would likely be where there were the most gems. Dieter followed Rarity’s lead as she headed towards the cave on the far left, silently scanning for targets of opportunity.
Several more dogs came charging out, each mowed down by Dieter’s superior fire power. Six fully armored dogs came from multiple directions. They were covered head to toe in steel, and each carried a sword. Nominally, the dogs armor could stop swords or knives swung randomly towards them, but they had specific weak points and stood no chance against a well trained opponent. In fact, not even the hardest part of the armor could stop a lead slug traveling faster than the speed of sound.
Dieter found himself surrounded. Rarity cowered, knowing full well what would happen if they lost. Dieter’s body expression suggested boredom. He fired five shots before his first magazine emptied. Each bullet punched through a vital organ within the dogs’ bodies, exploding hearts, severing nerves and pulping brains. The final dog took a swing at him. Dieter knew that if one blow connected with him, he was finished. Dieter rolled under the strike, drawing his knife. As he traveled under the dog, he jabbed his blade through the dog’s un-armoured groin. The dog howled at this apparent assault upon its masculinity. The dog toppled to its knees. Dieter stood behind it, and jabbed his blade into the back of the dog’s neck, in between the helmet and the body plate. Dieter reloaded his MP-40. He still had around nineteen magazines left to spare, plus several for his luger.
The killing continued. The brief silences punctuated by sporadic gunfire as Dieter ruthlessly and efficiently gunned down the dogs that attacked him. Heads exploded, hearts stopped bleeding, limbs were amputated by shrapnel as Dieter used his grenades on highly concentrated areas. The walls of the cave were splattered red with blood, like some maniac’s random fit of creativity. Not a little of the ichor splattered onto Dieter himself. He ignored it. This wasn’t the first time in his life he had found himself covered head to toe in the blood of his enemies. Unfortunately, a lot of blood also splattered onto Rarity, who reacted poorly to the viscous red fluid.
The cavern eventually began to widen out, as they came to the dogs’ mining area. Dieter noticed several pieces of luminous golden armor discarded haphazardly around the room. He heard the sounds of whips being cracked. He saw several white ponies pulling what appeared to be trolleys as three of the ugliest creatures he had ever seen whipped them onwards. They obviously led the group. Without hesitation, Dieter blew the largest one’s head open. It took two steps, its primitive nervous system not yet realizing that it was dead. It collapsed in a bloody heap on the floor. The other two turned to face him. The medium sized dog wailed as its eye was suddenly knocked from its socket. The smallest dog’s chest simply blew out, leaving a cavity the size of Dieter’s fist.
The guards turned to stare at him apprehensively. They thought they had it bad when they had been captured by, of all things, Diamond Dogs. Many thought that they would be ended right there by this angry bipedal god that had so easily dispatched a warren of dogs. Dieter saw several of them move their mouths in what he assumed were prayers.
“Oh sweet Celestia,” He heard one whisper, “Have mercy upon my soul.”
Equestria’s armed forces were pathetic in Dieter’s eyes. How had these soldiers been so easily captured by a foe so intellectually incapable and inferior that they had simply charged into the maw of his guns? Dieter grimaced. They reminded him of the Russians, just before Stalingrad. Retreat, retreat, retreat, that was likely all they did. Dieter removed his mask. After breathing stale air through his mask’s respirator the cave’s musty air was almost sweet.
Dieter fixated each of the ponies with a hard glare, noting the way each of them squirmed under his cold observation. Dieter paused for a moment before moving to free the guardsponies.
Dieter was the first to climb out of the hole. It was easier for him because he had hands. He could dig his finger into the earth and lift himself up. To the ponies waiting for him to emerge, he looked like an angry demon, covered head to toe in his enemies’ vitae. He was terrifying to all who saw him.
Rarity and the guardsponies took much longer to reach the surface. It took them long because they had hooves, not hands, and were inept at climbing. They looked bedraggled and beaten. In the case of the guardsponies, “beaten” was probably literal. Dieter ignored them completely, opting instead to walk to a nearby stream to wash. He may have been used to being bathed in blood, but he didn’t like the stickiness.
Dieter was interrupted by one of the guardsponies. “My name is Captain Surefire” she said. “I would like to thank you for rescuing us.”
Dieter grunted in response. They were soldiers, these guardsponies, but they certainly didn’t act as such. Once again, he thought of how pathetic the ponies really seemed to be. They lived in a world without war. Dieter had nightmares about stuff like that. What would a career soldier do without war? It seemed to him that the Equestrian Royal Guard had more in common Allgemeine-SS than with the Waffen. They certainly looked good with their weapons and armor, but they rarely used them. Looking up, Dieter noticed that Captain Surefire had gone. Good riddance.
Dieter finished washing up. As he put on his uniform, he noticed that there were no holes. The dogs hadn’t even managed to touch him. Dieter smiled coldly. They were hardly worth the time. It made a change from Soviets. He continued replacing his equipment.
There was a loud commotion coming from the town square. Dieter was going to ignore at first. Then he noticed a chariot being pulled by more of the royal guard. On the chariot sat a white unicorn with wings. At least, that was what it looked like. Dieter, overwhelmed by curiosity made his way to the square. He noticed the ponies bowing to the winged unicorn. Dieter stood tall, the only creature not bowing other than the creature. He noted that the mane was multi-hued, but seemed ethereal. The mane was moving in a breeze that wasn’t there. It was quite odd. The creature also had pinkish eyes, that seemed to radiate a sort of warm calm. Dieter realized this must be the ponies’ ruler.
The creature turned to face him. “I am Princess Celestia, ruler of Equestria. I welcome you to our fair land, Oberführer Dieter Heinrich of the Waffen- Shutzstaffel.”
Dieter stared at her incredulously. The highest ranking ruler was not a Queen, or and Empress, but a Princess? These ponies didn’t even have the initiative to seize a title of supreme executive power! Dieter was chagrined. He knew he should have expected a pathetic title, considering all he had seen from the ponies thus far.
Celestia, having no answer continued. “I would like to thank you for rescuing some of my Royal Guardsponies. It must have taken great kindness to risk one’s life to rescue strangers.
Dieter smiled. It was not a pleasant smile of warmth, but a smile of cold amusement. He spoke. “I needed something to do. In truth, Princess,” Dieter fairly hissed the word, “I couldn’t care less for their survival. This was not done out of kindness. Bear that in mind.”
Celestia’s eyes widened, and the guardsponies that flanked her tensed at Dieter’s statement. The gathered ponies gasped at his coarse response. Nopony had ever spoken to the Princess in such a way before. Of course, Dieter was not a pony, so that statement remained true. A guardspony wearing blue armor leaped down to face Dieter, seething.
“You dare?” The pony shouted, “You dare to insult our Princess? I’ll have you know that hostility to the crown is punishable by death!”
Dieter remained cold, not giving the pony the satisfaction of seeing fear. “Do you think that I am afraid of a death threat? I have been shot, stabbed, blown up, bayoneted, lacerated, and burned enough times that I no longer care! If I were hostile to the ‘crown’ by any stretch, I would have already killed everything that moves within this square right now! I would have done it with ease. Do not think to threaten me.” Dieters voice became dangerously low at the last sentence.
The ponies in the square gasped, and some began edging away from him in fear. Dieter took a step towards the guardspony, his face set in stone. The guardspony didn’t budge. It was the first pony that Dieter saw that had any guts whatsoever. Dieter noticed that the pony had a cobalt blue crest, to match his tale, and that he had an armor plate on his front, marked with a six-point star.
Celestia spoke, “Commander Shining Armor, stand down.”
The pony deflated, and made his way back to the princess. She turned once again to face Dieter. She stared at him. He stared back. The Princess in her thousand year reign, had never seen such a cold, seething glare. This man knew violence. He knew it very well.
“You shall disarm yourself and return with me to Canterlot.” Celestia stated.
Dieter responded by leveling his MP-40 at Celestia’s head, aiming for her eye. One twitch of the finger, and her life would be ended in the most violent fashion conceivable. Dieter buried his emotion, preparing for a fight, in case the guards made their move.
“I will go with you,” Dieter said this firmly, ice in his voice. “But I will not disarm myself. Do I make myself clear?”
Celestia was taken aback. This was the first time anyone had defied her. Of course, there was a first time for everything, and Celestia didn’t want to risk the Human’s wrath. She nodded. “Very well.”
Dieter had never like flying. He was willing to fly if it was absolutely necessary, but otherwise he shunned being airborne. It wasn’t fear, it wasn’t even trepidation, it just felt...unnatural. Dieter had flown once, during the invasion of Crete. He had been glad to jump. He did not like the helpless feeling that inherently came with sitting in the back seat of a plane while being hit by anti-air fire. Dieter honestly didn’t know how the American Airborne put up with it.
If planes were bad, the royal chariot was worse. It was open to the air, and was pulled by pegasi. Dieter knew that if they slowed past a certain point, the chariot would tilt downwards and deposit its contents all over the ground. It was all well and fine for Celestia, who sat beside him, since she had wings. Dieter did not. True to form, Dieter didn’t let any of his feelings show. To show feeling was to show weakness.
Dieter clenched his fist around his combat knife. It was not a threatening sign. It was a movement born of habit. The habit truly was born of necessity. While on the Eastern Front, Dieter had to make sure that he was continually prepared to fight. The movement caught Celestia’s attention. She began to regret bringing him along. He was always silent, and continually threatening.
In the distance, Dieter saw a castle-city built into the side of a mountain. It reminded him of pictures he had seen in school when he was a child. He could only assume this was the famed “Canterlot” that the ponies were always mentioning. Looking down at the city, he found its layout wanting. It was certainly beautiful, and had a theatrical flair, but it was not a defensible position. There was very little exploitable cover, and the streets ran parallel to each other. There were no exploitable choke points to be had. Dieter scoffed out loud. Celestia’s face reddened at Dieter’s mocking.
They put down in front of the Royal Pony Sister’s palace. Once again, Dieter noted its focus on ostentation rather than military efficiency. At least the Reichstag had some tactical use alongside its ostentation. The gates were opened when the guards noticed that it was their ruler that wished access. Dieter received odd looks. They had never seen anything like him before. Captain Shining Armor, notably, regarded him with paramount hostility.
Celestia glanced at him, “Well, what do you think?”
Dieter snorted, “The palace is poorly defensible, and your troops are poorly trained and equipped. Furthermore, the nobility is too heavily concentrated at this city. If this place were to be destroyed, your nation’s head would effectually be severed, leaving no one in a leadership position. The power vacuum would result in continual warfare, eventually leading to the degradation of the Equestrian power base. I noticed it in a few minutes. What took you so long?” This speech was delivered with curt, logical matter-of-factness.
Celestia was flabbergasted. The human always thought of warfare before all other things, didn’t he? What kind of world did he come from for such violent thinking to manifest itself? Celestia couldn’t imagine what “Earth” must have been like.
“SISTER! WHAT CREATURE HAST THOU BROUGHT HERE?” The shout carried across the palace, strangely resonant. Looking up, Dieter saw a midnight blue “alicorn” glide from the topmost spire.
Celestia sighed, “Luna, keep it down!”
Luna frowned, “What, pray tell, is this? Hast thou brought us another subject for experimentation?” Celestia was about to respond, when she heard a clicking noise beside her. Turning, she found Dieter with his large weapon aimed directly between Luna’s eyes.
Dieter spoke in even tones, “Touch me, and you will die.”
Luna blinked, she was not used to being spoken to in such a way. Her ethereal mane quickened in its movements, the stars shining brighter in response to the surge of adrenaline that came with the creature’s statement. Her horn began to glow, and Dieter’s finger began to tighten on the trigger. Celestia quickly stepped between them.
“Luna, this is Oberführer Dieter Heinrich of the Waffen- Shutzstaffel, our guest. Oberführer, this is my sister and co-ruler, Princess Luna.” Dieter did not respond. He stood still for a moment, like a statue, before flicking the safety on his gun back on, and returning it to his shoulder. Luna shuddered. What was the weapon capable of?
Entering the throne room, Dieter was suddenly confronted by a pure white unicorn with a golden mane. From the unicorn’s proud bearing, he assumed that it was a noble. The unicorn stopped in front of him, blocking his path.
“I see you, abomination! How dare you defile the sanctity of this throne room! I bid thee leave at once, heed me, or I will strike you with my magic. Flee before Prince Blueblood!” The unicorn spoke haughtily. Dieter ignored him and pressed further into the room.
Blueblood was obviously offended by Dieter’s cold demeanor, and came to stand before him again. “You refuse to obey your betters? Gua-!“
The royal was cut off when Dieter’s fist encircled his horn, pulling his head back. In a swift movement, Dieter’s knife was against his throat.
Dieter paused before hissing into Blueblood’s ear, “I was at Stalingrad, you know. We ate horses.” Blueblood gulped. Dieter continued, “I haven’t eaten for some time, and when I see you, my mouth waters. You are so plump and fat; I imagine that you must be delicious. You look quite appetizing too. I can see you when an apple in your mouth, with you on a platter, throat slit. You are, after all, a horse.”
Blueblood began to pull away from Dieter with all his might. He was squealing incoherently, his fear of being eaten overriding his normal regality. Dieter suddenly let go of Blueblood’s horn, sending him crashing to the ground. Dieter glanced back at the two sisters, noting their looks of stunned indignation. Dieter turned, and continued further into the palace, indifferent.
Luna whispered into Celestia’s ear, “I have a bad feeling about this!”
Dieter’s time in Canterlot was pleasant, even if he was not. Naturally, Dieter still thought poorly of the Equestrian nobility, seeing them as snobby and hypocritical. As such, Dieter found his stay barely tolerable. The ponies were assumptive, looking at him as some sort of beast. In truth, Dieter enjoyed their fear. As an SS officer, fear was common in all those who saw them. After all, the SS’s brutality had been famed throughout the Third Reich. Fear was always expected.
Some of the nobles could really irritate Dieter though. Many had called him an abomination, a demon. Perhaps in many ways they were right. Dieter had been fighting for decades. War was his life. He had gotten too used to it. For this reason, he could barely put up with the civilians who assumed that the military was a useless institution created for drop-outs and fools. What did they know? Dieter could barely restrain himself from violence every time they insulted him with their ignorance.
Dieter began to discuss military reforms with the princesses. Dieter never liked doing administrative work, but it was something to do. Dieter found a certain subject anomalous: magic. What was magic? To the ponies it seemed to come naturally. It obviously was rarely used in any military capacity. Magic, however was obviously a power. How could power not be applied to war? Dieter scoffed when he heard of the “magic of friendship” as Twilight called it. If friendship were truly magic, then people wouldn’t be shelling the crap out of each other, and Dieter would be out of a job.
Dieter had been truly offended when Celestia had asked whether or not guns were magical. Dieter had given her a long winded introduction to ballistic weaponry and its capabilities, leaving Celestia wide-eyed. Dieter followed this up by explain what grenades and shells were. Dieter finally gave her a firsthand demonstration of his weaponry by shooting Celestia’s pet phoenix, Philomena. Celestia had stood there stunned. Dieter figured that the bird had not long to live anyways, since it was too sick too even move. When Dieter had extracted the lead bullet to show Celestia, she fainted. She was in comatose for four days, Dieter had been told. Dieter noticed that for those four days, the night didn't end. On the bright side, the bird had been delicious.
Luna had thought that Celestia’s reaction was hilarious, and remained the only pony willing to talk to Dieter. That soon ended as well, when Dieter had given Luna a particularly bloody and gruesome account of Stalingrad. Luna had been horrified by the cold, matter-of-fact way that Dieter described disembowelments, strangulations, dismemberments and decapitations. Luna refused to see him afterwards. Rumors began to spread around Canterlot that Luna was having nightmares, and was not sleeping well. Dieter had been amused greatly by that particular story. It was probably true.
It was on a sunny day that Dieter began sparring against Royal Guardsponies to pass time. The Guardsponies had proven themselves quite adept at one-on-one combat, but Dieter was better. Each round always resulted in a severe injury for each guardspony. Most of them had been pegasi. Dieter had eventually gotten bored, and was glad when Shining Armor had finally stepped up to the challenge presented.
Dieter and Shining Armor stood off against each other in the ring. Shining Armor was the prime example of passion in warfare. Dieter was the pinnacle of cold indifference. Dieter was limited to his combat knife, since using his gun in sparring was considered a cheat. Shining Armor really didn’t like Dieter. Dieter had a grave disrespect for both princesses in Shining Armor’s eyes, and Dieter’s lack of emotion really turned Shining off. Shining would be glad to hurt him, at least to simply teach him a lesson.
“You’re going down!” Shining Armor called across the ring. Dieter simply shrugged, raising his knife and falling back into a combat stance. He raised his hand, gesturing for Shining Armor to come at him.
Shining Armor charged with his horn extended, his cobalt mane and tail flowing out behind him. Dieter realized that it was imperative to avoid the horn. The horn was as much goring weapon as it was a channel for “magical energy”. Dieter decided to toy with Shining Armor first. He side stepped, and extended his right leg. Shining Armor tripped with a cry and landed face first into the dirt, breaking his nose. Dieter gave one of his wolfish smiles.
Shining armor stood back up, glaring at Dieter with hatred in his eyes. Dieter had abandoned all emotion. This happened every time he fought. He would give away any signs of humanity for logic. He could be brutal and ruthless simply because he buried himself. Dieter’s face became frozen in an expression of cold concentration.
Shining Armor charged again. This time, rather than side-stepping, Dieter simply extended his fist. Dieter’s hand collided with Shining Armor’s chin. There was a loudly audible crack as Shining Armor’s head snapped back. It wasn’t lethal, but it would hurt. Shining Armor was struggling to get up again. Dieter knew that to let him get up was to display weakness. He brought his foot down, snapping Shining Armor’s right front leg. Shining Armor screamed in agony. Dieter did not seem affected. The audience winced. Dieter kicked Shining Armor in the stomach, shattering several of his ribs. Shining Armor screamed again before falling unconscious.
Dieter paused for a moment before sheathing his blade. He spun on his heel and marched out of the ring. The audience shrank away from him, seeing the brutality he was capable of. This display of coldly calculated violence had lasted less than a minute.
Dieter was leaving Canterlot. There wasn’t much point in remaining there, since no one was willing even to spar with him anymore. It was probably because he had reduced their best soldier to a quivering wreck. It would take months for Shining Armor to be healed physically. The psychological impact would probably stay with him for much longer. Dieter was disgusted by the ponies. They were weak and incapable of proper military action. It was a miracle that they had lasted so long.
Dieter barely looked back as he wandered the Everfree forest. He had been walking for days from Canterlot. He was quite used to such physical activity after marching on the Easter Front, and he could march for miles on end. It was certainly much more pleasant than the blasted battlefields that the Eastern Front consisted of. The air was fresh, free of the coppery stench of blood. Dieter was thankful for that.
The gnarled trees did not seem threatening as the ponies believed them to be. They were actually quite nice, considering that there were no people firing wildly at him from within. Dieter would have liked that, it would have broken up the monotony. Dieter’s blue eyes traced back and forth looking for some sign of movement. There was a faint rustling. Dieter raised his MP-40, aiming at the area of disturbance.
A strange insectoid looking pony creature jumped out in front of him. Dieter stared, aiming for its head. On closer inspection, he found that it had an accordion-like midsection. It also had a shaggy, broken mane, holes in its legs, and oddly glowing green eyes. The creature also had a horn like protrusion, similar to one on a goliath beetle, and wings that honestly reminded Dieter of a fly.
The creature spoke, its voice strangely resonant, “I am Queen Chrysalis of the Changelings. You will come with me human! Do not try to resist. I have an army. I have use for your superior weaponry and military ability.” She laughed in a way that sounded strangely like an infant.
Dieter responded with indifference, pushing past Chrysalis. She reacted violently. Her horn began to glow green. Chrysalis smiled, she would soon dominate the human through feeding off of his emotion. Dieter continued walking. The green glow faded. Chrysalis’s smile faded along with it. Impossible! The human had no emotions to drain, they were too deeply buried. She couldn’t feed off of him. Dieter placed his gun upon his shoulder, opting instead to draw his knife. Why waste ammunition?
“Come, my children! Fight for your Queen!” Chrysalis cried.
Immediately, Dieter found his way blocked by thirty creatures on each side. Each had glowing blue eyes that completely lacked pupils. They were also insectoid, and had holes in their horns and legs as well. They had wings covered in chitin, just like their queen. Ninety-one to one, that wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair for the Changelings.
The first changeling came in hard, going for Dieter’s leg. Dieter brought his foot back, kicking the changeling in the mouth, knocking all its teeth out. The Changeling screamed and collapsed. Another changeling jumped and landed on Dieter’s back. Dieter through the hissing creature onto its back, and promptly plunged his knife into its eye. There was an expulsion of green ichor and a scream of pain.
Several more came at Dieter, and he became a blur of fists, feet and blades. He swerved around another changeling, striking its throat with his knife to sever its head completely. Dieter rolled under the flying attack of another, bringing his knife into its abdomen. Twisting the blade, he disembowelled the howling creature, ropes of intestine slicking the earth. Dieter pivoted, delivering a thunderous kick to the head of another Changeling, snapping its neck.
Dieter smiled grimly. It was all too easy. Several Changelings cowered from his hard, cold stare. They died when the grenade that Dieter threw into their midst exploded in a flash of incandescent light. Limbs were scattered like a demented child throwing his toys. Another one of the Changelings charged, its horn glowing green as it channeled power into the attack. Dieter sidestepped, seizing its wing. The Changeling squealed in agony as Dieter tore the wing off with a sharp twist. There was a fountain of emerald gore.
Several more Changelings came at Dieter. Their attacks were predictable, and Dieter fought them with great ease. Up and down his blade went, taking out throats, removing heads and slashing limbs. More came. Emerald gore began to cover Dieter from head to toe. His face was locked in an emotionless grimace of sheer concentration. He fought with a fluidity that made his killing moves seem like a dance. It was dance of death. Limbs carpeted the ground and blood sprayed wildly, blossoming in the air and glittering like diamonds. It would have been beautiful if each spray of the vital fluid did not represent the death of another creature. Dieter struck with skill born from years of conflict, and the Queen realized her error.
Chrysalis had yet to join the fight. She stayed at the edges of the conflict, waiting for an opportune time to strike. Dieter noticed her, and slaughtered a path directly towards her, killing all that blocked his path. The ground under their feet was slicked with blood, and a nearby stream had completely turned green. The Queen backed away, but slipped on the mud. Dieter seized her horn, and in one fluid motion snapped it off. The Queen screamed in agony, and the Changeling horde howled as they felt their Queen’s pain through gestalt consciousness. The Queen took to flight, hovering over the battle, trying to avoid Dieter as best she could.
Dieter looked up in cold calculation as he stomped on the head of Changeling soldier, shattering it like a melon. He drew his Luger. Aiming it, he shot the queen through the eye, the bullet bursting the ball from its socket. The Queen fell to the ground with a cry of rage and pain. She was still alive.
The queen looked up at Dieter with fear in her eyes, as he approached. She tried to scramble back. Dieter shattered he legs with his heavily booted feet. His lack of emotion as he carried out his bloody deed was terrifying. The Queen’s eyes began to fill with tears as she realized that she was likely going to die.
“Please,” She begged, “Please, I am only trying to feed my children!” Dieter cocked the weapon to her temple. The gun didn’t waver. Dieter glared at her with cold-hearted intent. His finger began to tighten on the trigger. The Queen screamed.
“No! Please! Have mercy!” She cried, trying her best to escape the inevitable. Dieter paused, regarding her for a moment. The Queen felt a flutter of hope as she thought that perhaps he wasn’t going to kill her. Those hopes were soon shattered.
“I have none left to give.” Dieter whispered just loud enough for her to hear. He pulled the trigger.
The bullet traveled through the barrel of the Luger. It broke through the queen’s tough, chitinous skin. It shattered the skull, driving bone fragments into the Queen’s brain. The bullet punched through the meaty portion of the brain, severing important blood vessels and reducing it to pulp. The bullet proceeded to shatter the other side of the skull, and punched through the other temple to bury itself in the earth. It took less than a second.
The Queen’s death sent a psychic backlash throughout the Changeling’s gestalt mind. Her death caused major system shock that cause the mental breakdown of each and every single Changeling. The bonds that attached the Changelings to each other were severed, and their minds were fried as the Queen’s death scream washed over them. All over Equestria, changelings would stand rigid, their eyes losing their glow. They would fall, and greenish blood would flow from their open mouths, as their brains exploded in their heads. Ponies would watch in horror, as their fellow “ponies” would scream and fall to the ground, dying spasmodically. The disguises would evaporate and the truth would be revealed. Such an event happened in Celestia’s throne room itself. The event left Celestia stunned by shock.
In less than a second, Dieter had exterminated every last Changeling in Equestria. It was a feat that the Royal Guard had spent years pursuing without success. Dieter didn’t give any sign of joy or arrogant celebration. He simply holstered his Luger, and continued walking deeper into the forest. He noticed that his coat wasn’t even torn. The Changelings hadn’t managed to touch him.
Dieter was interrupted by a single cry of “CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS WAFFEN-SS!”
Three fillies emerged from the forest. There was an orange pegasus with eyes and a mane that were both purple. There was a pure white unicorn with green eyes and a purple-white mane. Finally, there was a yellow filly with amber eyes and a red mane. None of them, Dieter noted coldly had their cutie marks. They didn’t seem at all phased by the extreme violence they had just seen.
“Verdammt!” Dieter thought, “These ponies don’t know when to stop!”
The ponies started bouncing around him, holding onto his legs. They were not at all worried that he was capable of killing them in an instant. They lined up expectantly.
“That was awesome!” Cried the orange pegasus excitedly.
“It was amazing!” Gasped the yellow one. Dieter noticed that she had the same accent as Applejack. He wondered offhandedly if they were related.
“Err...What they said!” The white one exclaimed.
Dieter sighed imperceptibly. He was no good with children. Plus, these were not just any children; these were the offspring of ponies. They were likely much more annoying than humans. He glared at them coldly, giving none of his thoughts away. Dieter once again showed his capacity to lack emotion.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, his voice level and distant.
“We are the Cutie Mark Crusaders! We are on a crusade for our cutie marks!” They cried together. “We want to be part of the SS!”
Dieter thought of responding with hostility. It would be amusing. A better idea struck him. He smiled coldly at them, almost predatorily. He took step closer to them. They took a step back, finally realizing his potential.
“Can you kill? When you are in the Waffen-SS, your must be prepared to disembowel anything on a moment’s notice. Even your own family cannot be exempt if it is ordered.” He stared at the yellow one with his piercing gaze. They gulped.
“Are you willing to live a life of professional murder? Do you wish to spend years learning how to kill?” The fillies shook their heads. “No? Then go home!”
With that, Dieter turned on his heel and marched away.
Dieter had been marching for days. It hadn’t been non-stop, after all, Dieter had stopped to eat and rest. However, he only paused for a few minutes each day. Dieter had been well conditioned, and was well used to long marches. Dieter was slightly annoyed however, when he arrived back at Canterlot. He had been traveling in circles! In hindsight, it was easy for it to happen in the tangled mass of the Everfree Forest. Dieter considered turning back into the Everfree Forest simply to avoid the naive ponies. However, logic dictated that he could find some meat to eat in Canterlot. Ponies were herbivores and didn’t eat meat, so he would have to kill something. House pets were safer than manticores, Dieter knew this first hand. He had eaten several different animals on the Easter Front without issues, but the manticore that he had butchered and eaten had caused severe stomach sickness.
Once again, Dieter was stared at by a number of ponies as he marched into the city. The ones his eyes set upon shrank back from his glare. Good, they remembered him. A bird landed in front of him. Dieter supposed it would have to do. His hand shot out, wrapping around the bird’s plump form. Dieter lifted the struggling creature to his eyes. The animal chirped in terror at the cold, blue eyes that seemed to burrow into its soul. Dieter quickly squeezed the bird to death. The ponies gasped in horror at the brutal killing that had occurred. They still weren’t used to it.
Dieter carried the limp form into the nearest restaurant. He slammed open the door with enough force to splint the wooden cabinet that it struck. The cook stared at him apprehensively.
“Get me a cutting board,” Dieter demanded quietly, with cold indifference.
The cook brought out the cutting board, and fled deeper into the restaurant, where he assumed Dieter could not find him. Dieter smiled. If he wanted to kill the cook, he would already be dead. Dieter drew his combat knife and quickly beheaded the life less corpse of the bird. He held it by the foot and allowed the blood to drain. He then sliced the bird open, and proceeded to gut it. The intestines and other organs went in the trash to rot. The corpse was deboned. Dieter threw the headless corpse into a pot. Without ceremony, he began to boil it. Within half an hour, the bird was fully cooked, and an aromatic smell rose from the pot.
Dieter brought his meal out on a plate. He noticed several Royal Guardsponies standing in front of the restaurant. Upon seeing him, they began to inch back. He had severely injured their commander, and was fully capable of killing them with ease. They began to explain to the civilians how Dieter had “special clearance”. They fled. Dieter smiled coldly. Once again, this race had proved itself weak. He began to eat, using his knife to cut off strips of the bird’s flesh; It was very tender. He noticed that several of the ponies had begun to vomit through their nostrils, like all horses. They obviously didn’t like the thought of eating meat. Dieter quietly finished his meal.
There a flash of bright light. Dieter saw a pink alicorn flying towards him. This, he assumed, was Princess Cadence. If he remembered correctly, she was Shining Armor’s wife, and the embodiment of love. Dieter stared at her with cold disdain. The naive and ignorant tended to be with each other. What was the old American saying? “Birds of a feather flock together”?
Cadence stopped before him. Dieter rose, not out of respect. He was done with his meal, and was prepared to leave.
Cadence stopped him with a hint of sadness. “How could you do this?” She asked quietly, obviously disturbed by the eating of meat in her presence.
Dieter grunted, “I was hungry, and I needed the protein.” His face was a mask of calm.
Cadence spoke with softness, “You can’t just take another life like this! We must live in peace, love and harmony.”
“Love? Harmony? Peace?” Dieter chuckled. “Such concepts are alien. I have walked through hell and back. I have seen my friends torn to shreds, my own brother disemboweled by friendly shell fire. How do you expect me to believe in such naive concepts?”
Candence blinked. “Love can heal anything. I banished the Queen of Changelings with love when she attacked Canterlot. I used love to do it.”
Dieter laughed coldly. “Chrysalis, you mean? That parasite? She was regrouping her army to renew her assault on the capital. She attacked me in her arrogance. I killed her without guilt. Your love did not stop her. You merely gave her pause to consolidate her power. I kill her, and in doing so exterminated that pitiful species.”
Cadence blanched. “You killed her? How could you? You could have given her a second cha-“
Dieter smiled like a wolf, “A second chance? In nature there is no second chance. The strong survive, the weak perish. She was weak, so she died. That is the purest embodiment of the Third Reich. Your species is weak. Unless you miraculously find strength for yourselves, you too, will die. History can only repeat itself.”
Cadence began to cry. “How could you believe something like that? What kind of world do you come from? What kind of people can find it in their capacity to exterminate entire races?”
Dieter held up a silencing hand. “My people do. If I did not believe it, would I have crippled your husband?”
Cadence sobbed, “You did that to Shiny? Why?” She fairly choked over the last word.
“He was weak.” Dieter replied. “He was weak and arrogant, it was inevitable. Better in sparring than in war.”
He turned and walked away, while behind him, Cadence wept in horror.
Dieter was leaving Canterlot for the second time when Celestia confronted him. When Dieter looked back, he found that it had always been inevitable. Their incompatible ideologies and his coarse nature always meant that she was eventually going to go after him for it. Celestia stood resplendent with her white fur and ethereal mane. Her royal regalia gleamed. Dieter wasn’t impressed. Very few things impressed him, simply because he was indifferent to beauty and glory. What was the point? Everything would eventually die.
“Oberführer Dieter Heinrich of the Waffen-Shutzstaffel, you are under arrest for the illegal killing of animals, the verbal abuse of royals, and contempt against the crown.”Celestia spoke loudly. She glanced at several of her guardsponies. “Take him.”
Dieter sighed. He had consistently demonstrated his capabilities, and the fact that he was willing to kill. These creatures always seemed to give him an excuse to kill more of them. He drew his knife, his face set in an expression of logical, emotionless concentration. He really didn’t care how many he had to kill. They attacked him, and they would face the consequences.
Four guardsponies charged Dieter. He noticed that their movements were hesitant, reluctant. They were afraid of him. Dieter almost smiled. Fear was natural when facing a superior warrior. Dieter capitalized on their fear. He was a blur. The Dieter drove the knife through the eye of the first guardspony, who cried out in agony as his eyeball was punctured. He collapsed, dead. Dieter wrenched the knife out, and pivoted. He drove the knife through the next guardspony’s jugular, sending blood spewing all over the street. He broke the leg of the third with a well aimed kick, and stomped on his throat, snapping his spine. Dieter rounded on the last pony, who stared up at him with fearful defiance. Dieter grabbed the guardspony’s head and wrenched it a hundred-and-eight degrees, snapping his neck. All the guardsponies were dead. The civilians had fled, and the street was completely smeared with blood. Ichor ran through the cracks between the cobblestones, and seeped into the ground beneath. It had taken twenty seconds. Dieter glanced at his blade. It was covered in gore up to the hilt. He cleaned it on a dead guardpony’s fur. It was blatant disrespect for the dead.
Celestia was shocked into stillness. She was barely breathing, and her eyelids were fluttering as if her brain was having a hard time processing input. Dieter knew that look. Celestia was shell-shocked. Dieter was surprised it had taken that little to send into stress. He shrugged, indifferent as always. He gave her a mock salute, arm parallel to the ground, and walked back towards the Everfree forest.
Dieter had been walking in random directions for some time. He was trying to reach Germaney. He hoped that it would be similar to Germany, simply because of the similarities within the names. He had had enough of the ponies, weak and pathetic. Dieter hoped he would never have to put up with them again. Their ideals of love and tolerance above all else had no place in a dark and dangerous world. Dieter knew that their nation would likely collapse soon, simply because they did not take initiative. The weak would perish, the strong would survive.
Dieter was slightly annoyed when he emerged at Ponyville. Why was it that he always emerged at some sort of Pony settlement? He wished that the maps were more adequate. The maps that the ponies used were more pieces of art than useful directions. He had a better chance marching randomly than he did using one of their maps. Dieter was about to turn back into the forest when he heard yelling from within town. Dieter certainly didn’t care if the citizens were dying, but he was curious as to what was happening.
He strode into town. Many of the ponies began to shrink away from him, having heard that he was the one who had exterminated the Changelings. Dieter ignored them, focusing instead on where the yelling was coming from. He saw what seemed to be a combination of eagle and lion. Dieter knew what it was. It was a griffin. It was yelling at Rainbow Dash, and accosting every living thing in sight. Dieter stared at it in cold offhanded interest. Griffins were supposed to be warriors. Perhaps it would be worth talking to. The griffin suddenly spun to face him. It laughed.
“Is this another one of your dweebish friends, Rainbow Crash?” Dieter was amused. This thing had the audacity to insult him?
“…Gilda…” Rainbow Dash’s tone was one of worried warning. She had seen the violence with which Dieter could operate.
Gilda swept up to Dieter. “Scram little guy, or I might hurt you.” She said, prodding him with her talons.
Dieter looked at her with indifference. “Do not touch me.”
Gilda scoffed loudly, bumping him again with her talon. “Or what?”
Dieter suddenly brought his hand up and caught her talon in his fist. With a quick twist, he snapped the limb. Gilda shrieked in agony. Dieter rounded to her side, where her wings were beating frantically. He pulled out his knife, and slashed downwards, almost completely severing the wing from her body. Gilda fell on her side. Dieter pressed down on her throat with his boot. He placed his knife to her carotid, preparing to end her there and then.
“Stop!” screamed Rainbow Dash.
Dieter paused. He didn’t pause because he pitied Gilda. He didn’t even pause because Rainbow Dash asked him. He simply paused to draw it out.
“Okay, Gilda may be a jerk, but you can’t kill her because of that! All things deserve a second chance. In the name of decency, spare her. Please.”
Dieter smiled, his face taking on a wolfish aspect. He spoke with cold amusement, and Rainbow Dash found herself chilled by his expression.
“Chrysalis said the same thing, you know…” Dieter straightened his back. He sheathed his knife, and everyone gathered there gave a collective sigh of relief. He drew his luger. “I shot her. Since the same argument is used, the method death will be the same.”
Dieter leveled the pistol at Gilda’s forehead. She looked up defiantly. Dieter was satisfied. At least this one had guts. He pulled the trigger. The bullet punched through the skull, shattering the bone and opening a hole in Gilda’s head the size of his fist. The bullet went through the brain, pulping it with sheer force. It went through the back of the skull. It didn’t stop. The bullet continued forth, and puched through Gilda’s throat, severing the spinal cord. Brain matter and blood seeped into the earth. Gilda had died instantly, her face frozen in a death scream. She had only shown fear when Dieter pulled the trigger. It was likely involuntary, as her mental defenses shut down in death. The body continued to twitch for some time. There was silence.
Dieter looked around, his face set in emotionless calm. The ponies began to edge away from him. They didn’t run, afraid of catching his attention. Rainbow Dash was speechless. Gilda had been her friend at one point. Now she was dead. Rainbow Dash hovered, frozen by shock.
“Can your friendship do that?” Dieter spat in contempt.
The Everfree forest was burning. This was not some accidental fire. This fire was intentionally set. Century’s worth of trees crackled in the firelight, and sparks floated lazily on the breeze. A majority of the forest was already burning. Animals and monsters alike scurried to and fro trying to avoid the licking flames. In a few hours, the forest had been reduced to a cinder, consumed by the intense flames. Dieter smiled. Equestria’s maps were inadequate, and he was continually lost in the Everfree forest. Dieter had set the fire. Now he would not get lost, and the path to Germaney was clear.
Dieter began to march to the North-East. The land was now a grey wasteland, unbroken and immense. The feeling was familiar. The Soviets had used scorched earth tactics on the Easter Front. Dieter had been continually marching through wastelands for most of the war up until Stalingrad. The fact that there were no craters was a relief. However, there were corpses in spades. Many of the animals had been burned to death in the inferno. In hindsight, the fact that the pegasi had diverted the fire from Ponyville was nothing short of miraculous. Dieter would have to look into the military capacity of pegasi.
Dieter marched for days, his pace unbroken. He paused only to eat and drink when he got the opportunity. The Everfree forest had come to an end a while back, and Dieter was now climbing mountains. There was very little wildlife on the mountain, and Dieter ate once a day, killing for food. Dieter came to the edge of the mountain range, and saw in the distance, a grey land of industrial might. Coal smoke rose on the wind, and the clanging of metal could be easily heard. Already, Germaney reminded Dieter of home. They were obviously an industrious group. Dieter hoped they had military might to go with it. He had plans. The Third Reich may have fallen, but he would create a new Reich in his own name. He would begin by conquering the Equestrian world. He needed support.
Dieter reached Germaney. It was an almost unbroken mass of buildings and factories. He found that most of the ponies there had grey coats, blonde manes, and blue irises. The similarities to Germans were eerie in a way. The only way one could really tell them apart was their cutie marks. Each mark was set upon what looked like an Iron Cross. Most of the Cutie Marks involved military implements, such as swords, spears, and surprisingly, bombs. This was a militaristic society. Dieter knew that this would be where he would begin. Dieter had read of Germanean history at the Canterlot Library. He knew that they had gone to war with Equestria. They had been beaten out through a lack of supplies. The Germaneans would have won, Dieter had realized, if it had not been for food shortages. They were more militarily aware than the Equestrians, and were tactically and strategically superior. Dieter knew where he would start his bid to power.
Dieter continued walking until he had reached the Germanean capital of Marelin. He strode up the stairs of a building that looked surprisingly like the Reichstag. According to reports that Dieter had gathered in Equestria before he left, the leader of the Germanean Neighmar Republic was old and ill. He would soon die. The parallels to German history were very odd to Dieter. However, he took them as good omens for his plan.
He approached the secretary. Her cutie mark appeared to be a clip board superimposed over an Iron Cross. Dieter stared at her with intimidating calm, his blue eyes seeming to radiate cold light. Dieter leaned in close so that she could see his Iron Cross. Recognition came into her eyes as she saw the symbol of Germaney.
“Take me to see your president.” said Dieter quietly.
President von Ponyburg was old, weak, and easily manipulated. Confronted by this being from an alternate reality, he folded. Dieter explained to him that Germany had become great. Germaney, he reasoned, was a parallel universe equivalent. History could only repeat itself. Germaney would be great under his leadership. Von Ponyburg didn’t bother asking how Dieter had come to his world. Only bowing in acceptance, and declaring Dieter his successor. The next day, von Ponyburg died under mysterious circumstances.
Dieter stood on a podium before the parallel-Reichstag. He stared out over a grey mass of ponies. He gestured. He pounded his fist over his heart, and finally lifted his arm parallel to the ground in a parody of the Roman salute that had been used in the Republic. The ponies raised their right front legs.
“HEIL HEINRICH!” The crowd roared.
"So it begins." Dieter whispered, smiling coldly.
In 1253 E.F. (Equestrian Founding), Dieter Heinrich was crowned Fuhrer of Germaney. This was despite the fact that he was not Equine. Dieter took a much less extreme stand in comparison to the Third Reich. He did not endorse mass murder or the death camps. Rather than exterminating subjugated races, he simply had them integrated into Germanean society as lesser-races that could work their way up through satisfactory labor. In this way, the First Germanean Reich could be considered much more benevolent government than the German Third Reich.
Years passed. Under Dieter’s leadership, Germaney became a powerful military power, with weaponry and destructive potential beyond any nation’s comprehension. Using Dieter’s vast knowledge, Human technologies were reverse engineered, including tanks and artillery. A strict military hierarchy came into being. The unicorns were officers due to their intellectual and tactical capabilities. The pegasi’s role was primarily one of air support. The only Equine species capable of flight, they were used in a role similar to bombers. The earthponies were reduced to the role of grunts, doing all the heavy labor. All of this became heavily classified. For all the outside world knew, they still used spears. Military equipment was never paraded.
Tensions between Germaney and its surrounding nations began to rise as they became increasingly hostile and militaristic. Surrounding nations tensed themselves in apprehension at the giant on their borders. They formed an alliance against the Germaneans known as the Alliance of Freedom. Equestria was declared the leader of this alliance, despite its apparent military weakness. The Allies were confident that they would have victory. They knew that Dieter had killed entire species. But, they reasoned, he was only one man. They were blissfully unaware just what kind of power Germaney possessed.
On July 2, 1256 E.F., an Equestrian pegasi scout was shot down of Germaney. This was all the excuse Dieter needed. On the next day, July 3, Germaney declared war on Equestria. In response, the Hooviet Union, Prance, and the Griffin Kingdoms declared war on Germaney. Dieter had already prepared for each eventuality, coldly laying out plans for a war unlike any other seen in the world’s history.
Captain Stormtalon puffed up with pride as he saw the neat, ordered rows of the Griffin army. Confidence seemed to ooze from the Griffin forces. The Germaneans would be easily defeated. They were, after all, spear wielding savages.
“Crossbows, aim!” Stormtalon ordered.
There was a clattering sound as crossbows were leveled to the forest before them.
Let them come, Stormtalon thought, they would fall before the griffins’ superior fire power. There was silence. Stormtalon blinked. Why wasn’t there any movement? Surely the Germaneans would attack soon? Invasions usually came with a lot of noise, and a mass of charging bodies. Perhaps they had chickened out? Stormtalon felt strangely disappointed. He had wanted a good fight. He hoped that they were still coming. Griffins loved to fight.
There was the sound of thunder in the distance. A sudden whistling screech bombarded Stormtalon’s ears. What was that? There was a massive flash of light, and dirt was thrown wildly into the air. There was a strange crimson mist. Stormtalon realized with a start that it was blood. There was screaming. He looked back. Several of his men had limbs blasted off by the strange projectile. They writhed in the dirt, agonized shouts escaping from their beaks.
More thunder sounded. There were several more shrieks from the air. More explosions resonated. The ground shook. Stormtalon was struck by a moment of indecision. It was soon ended when he saw his aide, Private Leatherbeak, decapitated by a piece of shrapnel. As Leatherbeak’s vitae spattered over Stormtalon’s pure white feathers, he knew exactly what to do.
“RETREAT!” He screamed. They couldn’t deal with something like this!
The Griffons turned tail and began to flee. Some ran, some flew, all moved as fast as they could. A succession of smaller explosions came from nearby. Pieces of lead whizzed through the air, striking griffins in the back. They shrieked as they pin-wheeled to the ground, ichor making strange patterns in the air. Stormtalon allowed himself a glance back.
Grey ponies advanced on their hind legs. They wore grey uniforms and black helmets. Upon their faces were strange masks that gave them a bug-eyed, insectoid appearance. Upon their right front legs were red bands marked with downward pointing swords. The swords were superimposed over Iron Crosses. It was the symbol of the Germanean Reich. The strange, boxy weapons magnetically clamped to their front hooves spat fire at alarming rates, shredding easily through the griffins.
A beast burst from within a forest. It growled. Upon closer inspection, Stormtalon found that it wasn’t an animal at all, but a contraption made of metal. It had an angular turret, with a large cylinder sticking out of it. Stormtalon could only assume it was some type of weapon. The turret of the strange vehicle swiveled to face the main body of the fleeing griffin army. A large explosion sounded, and smoke billowed from the open end of cylinder. Stormtalon cried out as he was thrown onto his back by a large blast.
He tried to scramble onto his feet. They wouldn’t respond. He looked down to find that his legs had been completely amputated from the knees downwards. He didn’t feel any pain, just numbing cold. The adrenaline must have dulled the agony. More scything pieces of lead flew through the air, and Stormtalon almost wept as he saw his comrades falling, crimson holes opening in their backs and sides. Blood slicked the earth.
After a few minutes, there were no griffins left standing upon the field. The ponies went about the grisly business of field executions. Screams were suddenly cut off by sporadic shots. One of the Germaneans came to stand before him. Stormtalon glared up at it defiantly. The pony leveled a weapon at Stormtalon’s head.
“Do you have any final words?” The pony asked, its voice muffled by its gas mask.
“Damn…you…!” Stormtalon hissed.
The pony twitched its hoof. The trigger on its Maschinepistole-1254 was magnetically pulled back. A round spat from the barrel, punching through Stormtalon’s skull, shattering it like a melon. All over the battlefield, such scenes were being repeated. Blood coated the Germaneans, and they continued, indifferent. They left nothing alive as they continued their advance towards Olympus, the Griffin capital. Hundreds of thousands of hooves thundered against the ground. Following them were hundreds of tanks. Overhead, pegasi air units pumped their wings, closing in on targets for bombing runs. Artillery units spat shells overhead onto distant Griffin positions.
Similar events occurred over all the allied countries, as Germanean technology took them by surprise. In Equestria, frightened civilians suddenly found pegasi bombers demolishing Detrot. The pegasi were soon followed by artillery, tanks, and foot soldiers. In the massive Hooviet Union to the East of Germaney, Germanean units marched hundreds of miles in a day, killing many. To the west, Prance found Germanean troops inside their capital, Cloparis. The Prench surrendered within hours, finding themselves at the mercy of Germanean blitzkrieg tactics. By the end of the day, roughly two hundred thousand allied troops lied dead in the dust of the Germanean advance. The Germaneans had not lost a single soldier.
Dieter smiled in cold satisfaction. According to the reports, all was going according to plan. The war was already going in Germaney’s favor, and the war was only a day in. Dieter knew that victory was likely assured. Dieter’s smile faded as he remembered that this was the way he had felt when France had fallen, and Europe was conquered. Dieter didn’t need to be reminded how that had turned out. He would stay on guard, and the world would be his.
“Flee,” Dieter whispered to the figures representing hostile forces on his strategic map, “Flee, it will only slow the inevitable.”
He turned and quietly left the room. His blue eyes glinted like ice in the sun.
The ground shook as the artificial thunder of shelling continued. The bloodied earth had been softened by days of nonstop rain. The soft earth made digging easier for the Equestrian Royal Guard. They were entrenching. After weeks of non-stop defeats by the superior Germanean army, the Equestrian high command had finally decided to dig in and weather out the storm. Magical barriers were set up over the trench network, in the hopes that they would ward off Germanean shells. Blocking units had been sent up front to distract the Germaneans while construction neared completion.
General Shining Armor inspired his men by getting in the mud and digging with them. He attack the dirt with abandon, steadily digging the trench. Hundreds of miles had already been dug and lined with wood. The perimeter surrounded Ponyville, Cloudsdale, and Canterlot. They were the only three cities that hadn’t yet been attacked. All others had fallen. Fillydelphia was long gone, Manehattan had been reduced to rubble. Even Los Pegsus had been conquered in a week. That had been the Equestrian Army’s first true battle. After constant retreat, the Equestrian Army finally committed to a stand up fight. The hard fighting had taken thousands of lives, and reduced half of the city to rubble.
“Dig harder men!” Shining Armor ordered. “They shall not pass!”
A weary cheer broke out from among the ranks, as the Guardsponies redoubled their efforts. They had utter confidence in their leader. After a week of exhaustive work, they were almost done. The completion of the trench system was only hours away. The trench was done by the time the sun had gone down. The men settled down to rest as the unicorns cast defensive shield bubbles.
Dieter chuckled coldly as he heard the news. Trenches had been disastrous in the First World War. Dieter had been trained in officer’s school how to deal with them. The Equestrians simply didn’t know how to go about war. They believed that if they fought defensively, they could weather the storm. Dieter knew that it was an act of desperation, not of defiance. Dieter began to frown however, when he heard of the shield spells that were used to safe-guard the trenches. They could pose a problem.
Theoretically, Dieter had been told, the shields could be broken by infiltrators. No spell was perfect. They could be undone. Dieter knew of unicorns able to cloak their presence. However, to cloak themselves, and break a shield spell required a great deal of concentration. Dieter knew that recruitment would take time. He would have to form an elite unit, he supposed. In the mean time, probing assaults had to be planned, at least to keep the Equestrians’ heads down.
Dieter began to look into forming a new elite infantry group, the Infiltrators, Eindringlingesturmbrigaden.
“Hold on!” Shining Armor screamed as the shells began to fall.
All along the lines explosions sounded. There were bright flares of magical energy as the shields absorbed the impacts. More shells screeched from the Germanean positions. Pegasi dived through the air, bomblets dropping from magnetic holsters to strike Equestrian positions. Smaller munitions, such as mortars began to fall in between shields. The ponies caught there screamed as they were hit by high explosive ammunition. Casualties were lower, though. The trenches could be considered a success.
The shelling continued for hours, the cacophony lasting well into the night. There would be screaming as some shields flickered and died. Every time it happened, several more soldiers died. Each time the shields failed, a fresh unicorn would stand up to take his predecessor’s place. After a while, the shelling stopped.
Engines roared from the Germanean lines as their Panzers began to close in. Germanean infantry quickly followed, using the tanks for cover from Equestrian magic fire. The tanks advanced, machineguns blazing at the Equestrian positions. The bullets ricocheted from the shielding. The shields were only one way, and the Equestrian unicorns began to blaze away with their magic, their desperation fueling their magic barrage. Hissing sounds emanated from the Equestrian trench. Several Germaneans pitched back, struck by abnormally powerful magic. Some exploded from the inside, others were pulped, and there was one whose head burst like melon struck with a hammer. The soldier next to him screamed in shock as he was coated in red fluid. It was magic powered by strong emotion, the most potent kind. Several tanks detonated in blossoms of fire and smoke, their crews screaming in agony as they were flash-incinerated. The Germaneans pulled back. For the first time in the war, the Equestrians had victory. Five tanks were destroyed, and roughly a hundred and fifty Germaneans had died.
This went back and forth for months. Casualties mounted on both sides as they entrenched. Equestrian assaults were batted back with contemptuous ease, but Germanean attacks were stopped as well. As the war dragged into its second year, it seemed that the war would last forever. Germanean assaults across multiple sectors were rebuffed. The Griffins did not have the same kind of success. After a protracted battle, Olympus fell, the mountain sheered in half by relentless shelling. Almost half a million griffins died in the dramatic collapse of the Griffin capital, and the Kingdoms were quickly annexed. Iron Crosses and First Reich flags were everywhere to be seen in the Griffin Kingdoms, and yet another foe was crossed off the list. Sporadic resistance continued, but was easily crushed.
In the meantime, the new elite units, the Eindringlingesturmbrigaden (Infiltrator storm troopers) were formed. They consisted completely of unicorns with high magical capability and focus. They were capable of cloaking, and could undo advanced shield spells. They were trained extensively in counter-trench tactics by Dieter himself. Only two hundred of these ponies were recruited, and they were immediately identifiable by their uniforms, which were black. Their symbol was the twin lightning bolt, similar to that on Dieter’s original Waffen-SS uniform. They reported directly to the Fuhrer, and as a result often saw themselves as superior to the other fighting forces of the First Reich.
Hochrot Nacht crept with the rest of her squad to Equestrian trench network, invisible. They truly were invisible, having used cloaking spells to hide their presence. She could not see her comrades, and she was confident that they could not see her. However, she felt them through their telepathic link. She could feel confidence exuding from their links. They were ready, they had been trained in tactics by the Fuhrer himself. They could do it.
“Okay,” she thought to her squad-mates, “Everypony ready?”
Each responded subconsciously. They were all in the affirmative.
They began to work on the shield spell, focusing on it, smashing it with their minds. The thickly wrapped shield spell began to unravel. They poured more focus and emotion into it, and the spell suddenly shattered, like glass. Now! Hochrot Nacht pulled out one of her grenades. Taking cover behind the earth works, Hochrot felt the ground shake as the grenade detonated. There was sudden screaming. She and her squad leapt into the trench, firing wildly at the sleeping forms of the Equestrian soldiers. Blood spurted, painted the walls of the trench red. A coppery stench reached her nostrils. She remained unaffected. She was long used to blood. Equestrian soldiers began to wake, and an alarm was sounded. “Attention!” An officer cried through a loudspeaker, “We are under attack! To your pos-“ He was cut off by a bullet to the eye. The loudspeaker emitted a deafening noise as he screamed.
Shining Armor was awoken by gunfire. Scrambling from his position in his trench, he saw black uniformed soldiers. A young corporal screamed as a bullet punched through his jugular. Blood spattered over Shining Armor, caking itself on his armor. He screamed in anger at the wanton death around him. He charged his horn. His shot struck one of the soldiers in the chest. The soldier didn’t react. The spell dissipated around him. Shining Armor reeled in agony as a shot took him in the leg. He stumbled and fell to the ground, his eyes screwed shut in pain. He waited for the shot that would end his life, take him from his wife and children, but it never came. He opened his eyes to find one of the soldiers standing over him, aiming at his head with its submachine gun. He tried to move, but felt himself held down by a strong spell. He tried to use his magic. The soldier smacked him, causing the spell to dissipate just as he came up with it.
“The Fuhrer wants to see you, General,” said the soldier, a tinge of amusement in her voice.
This scene repeated itself all across the Equestrian trench system. By morning, the trenches were held by Germanean forces. Artillery was dragged to the front, tanks advanced over the trenches. The trenches were hastily converted to advancement zones. Months of stalemate were broken. Over three hundred thousand Equestrians had died in the assault. The Germaneans had only lost two. It was a kill ratio of roughly a hundred and fifty thousand to one. It was crushing for the Equestrians, who found themselves once again retreating towards Canterlot. Germanean spirits were high, and the Eindringlingesturmbrigaden hailed as heroes. Victory was within reach.
While trench fighting in Equestria had begun, the Germaneans had marched hundreds of miles into the Hooviet Union. The Hooviets were in constant retreat, as they were pushed back by determined Germanean troops. The Hooviets soon took on a strategy of scorched earth, burning crops and farmlands as they retreated. The Germaneans responded by hauling in millions of tons of supplies, enough to last five years. As the advance continued, the Germaneans found themselves at the last line of defense before Horsescow: Stalliongrad.
Stalliongrad was important for several reasons. The capture of Stalliongrad would give the Germaneans a clear path to Horsescow, the capital of the Hooviet Union. Furthermore, it would give the Germaneans control over surrounding fields and oil fields. The Hooviets did not have time to burn the former, and were blissfully unaware of the latter. Not only that, but Stalliongrad was the economic and cultural capital of the Hooviet Union, and would cause severe backlash if captured. All of these reasons made it imperative that the Germaneans capture the city quickly.
Mitternacht Voraus stared from his tank towards Stalliongrad. It was a glorious city of shining buildings and lively action. Soon, he realized, much of it would be in ruins. Mitternacht stared, memorizing every detail of the city, so that he could remember it when it had fallen. After a while, he noticed friendly pegasi diving over the city. Screeching noises sounded, and explosions sounded, flashing like stars in the distance. He heard nearby artillery open fire on the Hooviet positions. The distant whistling was almost haunting. It would have been beautiful if it wasn’t for the screaming. Screams of terror, screams of death.
The pegasi had begun to strafe ground targets, diving downwards and hosing ponies with leg mounted machine guns. The staccato bursts were punctuated by explosions as the bombs continued to drop. Mitternacht sighed. The fuhrer had decreed that tanks were not to enter the city. He had stated that the rubble from the artillery would make tank warfare unviable. This was an infantryman’s war. The tanks would be hidden deep within Germanean territory, where the Hooviets would be unable to go. Over three and a half million Germanean soldiers would be deployed to take the city. It was overkill in the truest sense of the word. It was even rumored that fifty of the elite Eindringlingesturmbrigaden had been deployed to the city. Mitternacht didn’t give much credence to the rumors, but it would be interesting indeed if they were true.
Mitternacht pulled out his Karabiner 1253K and leapt from the tank hull with the rest of his crew. Like all Germanean soldiers, they could multitask. All Germanean soldiers were trained for multiple scenarios, giving them versatility that most nations lacked. While Mitternacht was technically a tank commander, he doubled as an infantry squad leader. Like all officers, he was a unicorn. A crew from another tank joined them to form a squad of crack infantry. Several more squads joined them, and they began the advance into the city. Mitternacht truly envied those who rode in the personnel carriers. They didn’t feel as tired as he did, he imagined.
They entered the city. Hundreds of spear wielding Hooviets charged them. The Germanean line opened fire upon the swarming enemy. Several were spun around as rifle rounds found them. Mitternacht pulled the trigger on his gun, magically ejecting the spent round, his horn flaring as he did so. His bullet punched through the eye of one of the Hooviet soldiers, and he toppled to the ground, blood slicking the earth where he fell. Germanean machine gunners set up at the intersections, hosing Hooviet conscripts with merciless fire, before they could come into range. As a nation set up by the working class, the Hooviet Union consisted mostly of earthponies, this meant of course, that the Germaneans would not have to worry about ranged fire coming from Hooviet positions. Spears did pitiful damage to tanks and guns. They had, however an advantage of numbers. They fought a war of attrition, burning everything that could have been of value, and swarming Germanean positions with zealous abandon. They intended to drown them in a tide of flesh.
More machinegun fire sounded. Limbs were amputated by the sheer weight of ammunition expounded, and blood spurted in weird patterns against walls and the ground. Shells screamed overhead, and Mitternaucht saw a group of Hooviet soldiers blown apart by a mortar. The screamed as their organs were blown out, and Mitternaucht saw one beheaded by a stray piece of shrapnel. Buildings collapsed all around, crushing those unwary. Mitternaucht saw a burning soldier running from the inferno of a destroyed building. The soldier screamed as his skin boiled off. Mitternaucht looked away.
By the end of the day, half off the city was under Germanean control. Sporadic gunfire sounded as small skirmishes broke out between the opposing forces. Hooviet units had begun to ford Holga River, which ran through the middle of the city. They were beaten back constantly by Germanean artillery and pegasi units. The Germaneans began to bring up amphibian units, transports that could go on land and water. These amphibians would engage Hooviet ships, hosing them down with merciless fire. Screams could be heard constantly, and the river turned red with blood for several weeks.
Ruhig Todesfall crept through the streets of Stalliongrad with the rest of his Eindringlingesturmbrigaden squad. They were fully cloaked by their magic. Germanean intelligence had found that Hooviet high command had set up its base in one of the grain mills that dotted Stalliongrad. The Eindringlingesturmbrigaden unit had been dispatched to terminate them. Ruhig probed his psychic connection with his squad mates. Good. They were all in position. Two guards were stationed in front of the mill. That was a dead giveaway.
Ruhig mentally gave the command. Two jets of blood suddenly appeared, as the guards throats were opened. If Ruhig hadn’t known that his squad mates were cloaked, it would have seemed miraculous. One moment, the guards were alive, the next, they were dead. He crept up to the window. He heard the sounds of merriment inside. He stared in. The uniforms certainly did designate them as general staff. He nodded.
“Go loud.” He thought to his squad.
The door was kicked in, the sound jarring all of the officers into silence. Grenades were hurled into the room from cover. The officers stared at the potato-masher shaped explosives with mute interest. They had never seen them before. These were not combat officers. There was an explosion, and shrapnel embedded itself all over the room. He heard screaming inside of the room as a wall was blown apart by the force of the blast. Now was the time!
“FOR THE FATHERLAND!” Ruhig screamed.
“FOR THE FUHRER!” His squad returned.
They swept into the room, their silenced submachine guns belching fire. Everything in the room was already dead. They hosed it down anyway, shredding corpses until there was no doubt that they were dead. They continued up the stairs, hosing down the rooms that they passed, opening doors to check for casualties. Blood painted the wood colored walls, some of it even covered the roof boards of the mill, so powerful the attack had been. Bodies lay strewn all over the building, and limbs had been hurled into odd locations. Several of the officers had been disemboweled by shrapnel. Explosives were planted all over the building.
Ruhig and his squad walked away, as the sun began to rise in the sky. Behind them, there was nothing to suggest that the mill had ever existed, save wood chips and splinters. A giant crater was in the earth, showing simply that something had detonated in that area. In a few minutes, Ruhig and his squad had beheaded the Stalliongrad garrison.
The Hooviet army, now without leadership, degenerated into chaos. Thousands of soldiers deserted, having received no new directives. In a few days, the last resistance in Stalliongrad collapsed. The city came fully under Germanean control. Horsescow now came fully into the sights of the Germanean army. Victory was theirs.
Dieter smiled with cold satisfaction as he crossed yet another hostile strongpoint from the map. He had expected it in some ways to play out like Stalingrad had. He thought it would result in disaster. It had not. Dieter was satisfied. The last of the resistance against the First Reich was once again weakened. The world would be his. He would finally bring peace. Peace through superior fire power.
Shining Armor awoke with a jolt. How long had he been out? When did he pass out? He couldn’t remember. He was lying on his side. He wasn’t physically restrained in any way. He looked around. He was in a sterile white room that seemed to shine in the white light. There were no windows, and there were only bare necessities, such as a sink and a toilet. He stretched. His armor had been removed. He attempted to use his magic to turn on the sink. He found that he could not, no matter how much he strained. He raised a hoof to his horn, and found that it was covered by a strange object. He tried to remove it, and was answered with bouts of agony as the object sent bolts of electricity into his head. He twitched slightly.
The door burst open. Two of his gas-masked guards came in, their weapons pointed squarely at his head. The approached him. Shining Armor wondered if they were simply going to shoot where he stood. Did it really matter? Equestria was lost anyways. His death would change nothing, although he supposed that Cadence would wonder what happened to him. No one knew where he was.
“The Fuhrer will see you now, general. Do not attempt to resist, or escape. They will be met with extreme violence...towards your entire family.” The guard spoke almost in monotone.
Shining Armor blinked at the last statement. What was that about his family? The guards escorted him along the halls. There were still no windows, and he was almost blinded by the harsh, artificial light. They reached the end of the corridor. He saw a door leading out to a grey street populated by grey ponies, surrounded by grey buildings. How monotonous. He realized that he must have been taken to the Germaney. If the Fuhrer was going to meet him, this would have to be Marelin. Shining Armor still didn’t know which facility he was in however. He felt a blindfold being slipped over his eyes. He was led for several minutes through, what he assumed were bustling streets, based on the noise. He heard engines roaring as vehicles sped by. Whether they were military or civilian vehicles, Shining Armor did not know. Presently he felt himself ascending stairs with his escorts. The noise was swallowed up. After a couple of minutes, he felt himself pushed into a chair. The blindfold was removed, and he saw cold blue eyes appraising him.
“General,” Dieter smiled with cold amusement, “Long time no see.”
Dieter observed as emotion flashed over Shining Armor’s face. Anger, hatred, surprise; He obviously hadn’t learnt to bury his emotions since the last time they met. Dieter knew that Shining Armor had expected to be shot. That would explain his surprise. Dieter, however was a man of his word. Dieter remained staring at Shining Armor quite some time, his indifferent eyes daring him to speak.
“You bastard,” Shining Armor growled.
Dieter responded with mirth, “Always cutting to the chase, eh? Do you remember what happened last time?” Dieters eyes shared nothing of the joy his mouth did. They were cold and calculating.
Shining Armor simply glared, letting his hatred wash over him.
Dieter continued, the death glare affecting him not. “You are a very unimaginative commander. Entrenchment is not an effective way to wage war, if the Great War taught us anything. You however, could be better. Join the Reich, General, you can have a position of power. Do not, however, think that this is a sign of mercy. I have none. I would kill you without a second’s thought. You are simply more useful this way.”
Shining Armor glared, “I will never side with you. No amount of torture could ever convince me to do that.”
Dieter grinned coldly, his eyes showing great indifference, he leaned forward.
“I’m not going to torture you.” Said Dieter.
The doors were thrown open, and a pink alicorn was led in. Shining Armor’s eyes widened as he recognized his wife. She looked so very tired. She glanced around worriedly, before her eyes settled upon him. Her eyes widened as well, and she gasped.
“Shiny? What are you doing here?” She asked, her voice breaking.
Dieter was no longer smiling. His face was a mask of immense coldness. He was capable of anything. He suddenly stood. He unsheathed his infamous combat knife and strode towards the couple. He gave Shining Armor a look of sheer boredom before speaking.
“You fool! Did you think that I would not station infiltrators in the Crystal Empire? The pathetic weakling there never expected to wake up one morning with their ‘Crystal Princess’ gone. I may not be able to torture you personally, but I can strike at your one weakness: your family.”
Shining Armor seethed, “You son of a bitch!” He hissed, charging at Dieter.
Dieter side-stepped his charge. Dieter suddenly brought his foot up, and Shining Armor screamed as his leg was suddenly broken. Dieter went around to his other side, kicking him in muzzle as he did so. Blood leaked out of Shining Armor’s shattered nose. Dieter placed a knee on Shining Armor’s throat, and began to choke him. Dieter’s eyes registered no emotion.
“I am just as capable now as I was three years ago, fool.” The words were spoken without a sign of emotion. It was chilling.
Dieter released Shining Armor’s throat, leaving him gasping for air. He spun on Cadence, who had backed away from the violence unfolding before her. Dieter gestured, and the guards began to drag her away. Dieter picked Shining Armor off the ground. Yanking on his mane, Dieter lifted his head.
“Listen.”
The screaming started. It was obviously Cadence’s voice. Shining Armor screwed his eyes shut. It was the last thing he wanted to hear. The screaming intensified, and he heard tears in his wife’s voice. Dieter simply stood, indifferent to the horrible noises emanating from the next room. He had lived with screams almost all his life. He simply didn’t care anymore.
“All right!” Shining Armor screamed, “I submit! I submit!”
Dieter nodded. Picking up the communicator on his desk, he spoke a few words into the mouth piece. The screaming stopped, and was replaced by sobbing.
Dieter turned to Shining Armor, no emotion written in his body language. “Your wife has not been harmed physically. The pain was confined to her mind. It was nothing but an illusion. If you resist in the future, it may be physical damage the next time.”
Shells fell on Ponyville. The whistling screech of mortars were punctuated by quaking explosions, and the crash of collapsing buildings. The attack had started six hours ago, when Germanean artillery pieces came within range of the village. Frightened villagers ran to and fro, unsure of what to do. Royal Guard ran to man strategic positions along the village. Several shells struck the central Ponyville tower. It collapsed in an expulsion of smoke and flames. Carousel Boutique was obliterated by a fifteen centimeter shell. Pieces of wood and shrapnel flew everywhere. There was one casualty, Rarity’s sister, Sweetie Belle.
Applejack and the rest of her family defended the farm with everything they had. Big Macintosh wielded a pitchfork, Granny Smith held onto a spade. She expected manticores, despite the fact that the Everfree forest had been burnt down years ago. Applejack herself, held onto a bottle of tomato paste. She knew that they would likely stand no chance. They took cover behind a table.
Unbeknownst to the Apple Family, the farm was a primary target for the Germanean advance, due to the fact that it had huge stores of food. A majority of the forces committed to the battle would center on Sweet Apple Acres. The Apples would stand no chance.
Hundreds of soldiers poured towards the farm. Big Macintosh suddenly mounted the table, and charged the oncoming Germanean forces with his pitchfork. Applejack watched in horror as her big brother was mercilessly gunned down, his head snapping back as a bullet passed through his skull. Another bullet burst his heart, and yet another punched through his jugular. The red stallion collapsed to the ground in a heap, his blood staining the ground as red as his coat.
Applejack ducked behind the table, mortified by the death of her brother. Hundreds of rounds impacted the table, shredding it in half. Applejack barely had time to register that she was dead. She simply fell in half, her eyes glazing over as her organs failed.
Nearby, Rainbow Dash suddenly came to a halt as she felt her friend’s death scream over the harmonic connection. She charged into the air, attempting to ascertain whether or not what she felt was true. She did a fly by over Sweet Apple Acres, her wings pumping frantically. What she saw would stay with her for the rest of her life, which as it turned out, would not be very long. She saw a strange tank with a three barreled turret suddenly stop. The gun swiveled upwards, and Rainbow Dash barely had time to think before she was shredded by a hail of rapid fire, explosive flak rounds. She fell to the ground, her head punched cleanly from her shoulders by shrapnel.
Pinkie Pie was in sugar cube corner, bombarding Germanean forces with a steady stream of cake. They hadn’t open fire yet, too busy laughing at the novelty of someone trying to hurt them through hurling cake at them. Finally a sergeant approached, levelling his weapon.
“Come out,” he called, “unarmed.”
Pinkie Pie responded by hurling more cakes.
“WHY?” She screamed, “ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE CAKE?”
The sergeant sighed. He removed a grenade from his belt. Kicking open the door, he hurled the grenade into the building. There was an earth shattering explosion. Pinkie Pie was thrown against the wall of Sugar Cube Corner by the force of the blast. Multiple pieces of shrapnel impacted against her, lacerating organs and opening arteries. Pinkie bled out, alone. Her eyes glazed as the river of blood grew.
Fluttershy whimpered as she hid in her hut. The screaming was unbearable. How could ponies inflict such harm? She heard trudging feet outside. She made herself as small as possible. There was sudden gunfire. Fluttershy almost shrieked. The animals that she had been harboring cried in fear and pain as they were butchered.
“I imagine,” she heard one of the soldiers say, “That these animals will be tasty.”
Fluttershy was suddenly overcome with rage. She burst through the front door of her hut, eyes streaming with angry tears. She charged headfirst at the nearest soldier she saw, intending to hurt him. She realized her mistake when the first shot hit her in the side. She fell two the ground with a scream, heaving as she felt the bullet lodged in between her ribs. Another shot resounded. This bullet passed through Fluttershy’s head, killing her instantly as it passed through her brain, shattering her skull.
Twilight stared in horror at the space Rarity had occupied. The shell had been a direct hit. There was nothing left of the white unicorn, save for a large pool of blood and some pieces of flesh. Twilight trembled with the shock. Such violence, with such ease! Her organized, calm demeanor vaporized as the horror of the situation struck her. Her friends were all dead. She could feel it. Their pinprick light of their harmonic connections faded. It was over, she realized. It was all over. She hung her head.
She looked up to see two Germanean soldiers staring intently at her. She struggled back, until she bumped rather painfully against a wall. The two soldiers approached her. One of them pulled out a piece of paper, and began to study her. They nodded and leveled their guns at her.
“Twilight Sparkle,” said one, “You are to come with us. Do not attempt to resist.”
It took one day to capture Ponyville. After heavy fighting, the village was taken. The flag of Germaney hung from the tallest building, the Ponyville library. The Royal Guard Garrison refused to surrender and was massacred to a pony. The Elements of Harmony, Equestria’s super weapons were terminated, save for their leader, Twilight Sparkle. Equestria’s last hope was dead. At the same time, the Germaneans laid siege to Horsescow, killing millions in the first day of heavy fighting. The end was nigh.
The sun rose again to another dismal day within the Crystal Empire. It had been three weeks since Princess Cadence had disappeared, and a general feeling of fear permeated the air. The Germaneans were coming. They were sure of it. The Germaneans were coming. Despite the trepidations of the people, the Crystal Ponies prepared for war. It was the first time in centuries they had undergone such preparations. Not even the return of King Sombra had warranted such a response.
Crystal fortifications sprang from the ground. Crystal Ponies took cover behind these fortifications, confident in their ability to fight. Their magic was charged with energy born from the determination of an exiled people. They would fight. In the distance, the rumble of artillery sounded. Explosive munitions began to detonate on the streets. The buildings, reinforced with magically imbued crystal, held.
Screeching shells fell overhead, causing the defenders to flinch at the sharp noise. Sporadic machinegun fire began in the distance. Flashes of light came over the mountain. The earth rumbled as the Germaneans met the first lines of defense. They were not expected to hold. They simply had to buy the warriors time to prepare.
Red flares hovered over the mountains, signals for the impending battle. Screams were heard in the distance as the outlying defenses were annihilated. The ponies manning them were torn asunder by concentrated fire from multiple angles. Tigers and Panzer IVs rolled over the desecrated ground. The snow was dyed red with the blood of the defenders, and opened wounds steamed in the cold. The battle had begun.
Transcendent Love stared out from his bunker in slow apprehension at what was to come. In the distance, he saw the grey forms of Germanean Panzers closing in. Behind them marched legions of Germanean troops. Overhead, Transcendent heard the screeching of bombs as the pegasi units began their assault. Ruby red beams of magical energy speared out from the defenses. Transcendent focused on a nearby pegasi bomber. He pushed. He felt a gratifying punch from his horn as he released a blast of energy. The pegasi screamed as its innards were opened up by the energy. It fell slowly to the ground, its innards looping around its legs.
Transcendent and his comrades began to take aim in ranks as the Panzers closed in. They fired as one, beams of magic punching through the tanks’ hulls with ease. Dozens of tanks stopped before promptly exploding, their ammunition cooking off in bursts of heat. The tank crews screamed as they were incinerated in their own vehicles. Some of the crews escaped from their burning vehicles, only to have limbs punched off by indiscriminate fire from the Crystal Lines.
Whole groups of infantry were vaporized as they were struck by beams of super-heated energy. The Germanean infantry returned fire, rifle and sub-machinegun fire pounding mercilessly into the crystal defenses. The bullets ricocheted off without causing any damage. Transcendent fired and fired again. He saw one of his targets lose its head in welter of blood and gore that sent its body spiralling to the ground. Another lost both its legs as they were blown into the distance far behind. It tried to crawl away, only to be dispatched by another beam of energy. Blood soaked into the grass, turning the soil a muddy, crimson mess. Corpses littered the ground, and the pungent scent of blood and death wafted in the air.
The Germaneans began to retreat. This wasn’t a poorly coordinated rout. The infantry began to back away slowly, providing covering fire against their pursuers. The tanks still offered them mobile cover as they began to reverse back towards the Germanean positions. Several tanks continued to poor explosive rounds into the Crystal positions. The Crystal Ponies did not pursue, for fear of being annihilated by concentrated tank fire. They were content to simply hang back and fire upon targets of opportunity.
This pattern continued for several days, as the Germaneans unsuccessfully attempted to assault the Empire. Flares were fired into the air late at night, and the battle raged without respite. The cacophony never stopped, and the Crystal Ponies found themselves hard-pressed not to fall in exhaustion. But they held, and they would not let go. Conventional Germanean tactics were insufficient against such dogged opposition, and the Fuhrer decided to test the new super-heavy tanks, the Panzerkampfwagen VIII Maus.
The ground trembled as twelve of the mobile fortresses approached the Empire’s perimeter. The tanks bristled with weaponry. Each had a hundred and fifty millimetre cannon fixed to its turret, and it bristled with machine guns. The Crystal Ponies fired upon the tanks. However, the spells that had been so effective for so long simply bounced off the armor of the Maus tanks. The tanks responded in kind. The earth shook as they returned fire, and it seemed to many that the heavens were falling. The crystal defenses were shattered by the sheer force of the cannons, which far exceeded those of the seven-point-seven centimetre artillery pieces. The Crystal Ponies suddenly found themselves dangerously exposed. Heavy fire sprayed from the close in defense machine guns, and the Crystal Ponies were hosed down by merciless fire, their blood painting the crystals with chaotic shapes.
The tanks continued, crushing all that came in their way under one hundred and seventy-five ton hulls. The tanks were larger than some of the houses that the empire possessed. Machinegun fire stitched itself randomly across the streets, and houses were demolished with ease as the Mauses simply rolled through them. Behind the Mauses advanced smaller tanks, and finally the infantry. The infantry began to lock down the city, destroying remaining pockets of resistance, while the Panzer IVs remained on standby for support.
The last major source of resistance was the Crystal Citadel. It soared into the air dwarfing all around it. Fully three hundred and fifty-five stories tall, it was truly a wonder of the Equine world. Fire blazed from the windows as the Crystal Ponies fired upon Germanean forces. To wage a floor to floor battle for the citadel would be costly and time consuming, reasoned the Germanean General. The twelve Mauses began to bombard the sides of the citadel with their elephantine cannons. Fire blazed from the citadel as the shells punched through the outer surface and detonated dramatically. After mere minutes of shelling, the citadel collapsed. The supports gave out. The collapse was almost in slow motion, as the tower leaned to one side, and keeled over like dying man. It hit the ground with a titanic crash, its demise causing earthquakes for hundreds of miles around. The tower was firmly buried in the earth, the force of its impact driving it halfway into the ground. With the tower demise, the crystal heart was shattered. It was over, the Crystal Empire was crushed.
On September 23, 1257, the Crystal Empire fell. This defeat caused the further demoralization of the Equestrian forces, and the death of joy as a cosmic power upon the planet. One of the last sources of Equestrian power had fallen, and the situation became truly hopeless for the Equestrians. They pushed on and continued resisting in futile defiance.
The Elements of Harmony were dead. The Crystal Empire, the last bastion of love and peace, had collapsed. Deep within the Canterlot gardens, an asymmetrical statue began to glow. The stone fell cracked and peeled away. A deep, reverberant chuckle issued from within the statue as its prisoner awoke. Discord slowly wormed his way out from within the stone casing. With a snap of his fingers, he was gone.
Chaos and destruction: the world was built around these ideas. Discord, one of the oldest beings in Equestria had seen many things. He had seen years of warfare, the death of thousands, the rise and fall of empires. It was an eternal cycle of rise and fall, chaos and destruction.
But the cycle had been broken, the order of chaos shattered. By what? It was destroyed by an anomalous being from another world. He was unifying all the world under his one banner using ruthless violence and vast destruction. This would not be the first empire to attempt to conquer the world, but this was the first to come so close to success. Discord could not allow the cycle of Chaos to break completely, it was too much fun to let go!
Germaney was thrown into confusion as chocolate milk rain fell from skies of cotton candy. Germaneans looked up in confusion at the unnatural phenomena. From the roof of a tower in the heart of Marelin, Discord watched, his mouth twisted in a smile of unceasing amusement. This nation was much to organized, it had to degenerate to Chaos. Wars may be chaotic, but this war was waged in the name of order.
“HELLO EVERYPONY!” Discord yelled at the top of his voice, “Let’s have some fun.”
Germanean guard units responded quickly. Discord was soon surrounded by dozens of tanks and hundreds of soldier. Several thousand more were kept in reserve, in case things went downhill. Dieter himself emerged from the crowd of soldiers, his red cape billowing in the chaotic wind. He stared up a discord with cold, disinterested eyes.
“Discord, come down now. I am offering you a chance to discuss this. If you refuse, you will die.” Dieter smiled coldly.
There was a sudden flash, and Discord suddenly appeared next to Dieter. Dieter simply turned to face him, his face showing none of the surprise or fear that Discord had expected. A hundred guns leveled themselves at Discord’s head. Discord, for the first time in centuries, felt a twinge of nervousness. He was functionally immortal, but he was not invincible or invulnerable. All it took was a signal from Dieter, and he would be cut down by a hail of bullets that not even he could stop.
“It has come to my attention Discord, that you are considered to be a deity of Chaos. This, however, is untrue. This is a land of magical creatures. You are perhaps stronger than others, but you are like Celestia in that regard. You have magical capabilities, but you are not gods.” Dieter said the last five words with particular emphasis.
Discord laughed, “Why so grim? Loosen up; you can’t kill me any way! I’m immortal; to shoot at me is useless!”
Dieter responded coldly, his smile enough to freeze blood. “You may be immortal, but you are not invulnerable. I can tell. First, if you were truly impervious to bullets, you would not have come down from the tower. Second, when the guns were first leveled at you, something played across your features. It was not mischief or amusement. It was fear. We both know that you cannot dodge bullets. For all of your talk, you are unable to move that fast.”
Discord cursed himself mentally. He had made it too easy! He was being beaten at his own game. It had been so much easier to trick the Elements of Harmony. He simply had to target their weaknesses to alter their thoughts and emotions utterly. Dieter was much more intelligent than that. Discord would have to switch tactics. He could tear the First Reich apart from the inside.
“You’re right. In truth, I came here to state my loyalty to your cause. I think that it is so very worthy, and I would like to join it. Perhaps I could be your lieutenant.” Discord chuckled.
“You lie.” Dieter said simply, his face emotionless.
“What? Me lie? You must be mad!” Discord feigned ignorance.
“Do not think of me as being idiotic or ignorant like the Elements of Harmony. They believed in the altruism of all creatures, that friendship could heal all things. Their naivety made it easy for you to deceive them. I am not naive. You cannot trick me. You are the ‘spirit of chaos’. You would not swear your loyalty to a regime dedicated to order and dominion above all else. It is against your nature.” Dieter smiled coldly, his eyes glinting like steel.
Discord was taken aback. It was almost as if Dieter could read his thoughts! Dieter could see through him easily, despite the fact that they had never met. How could it be? Discord was a master of duplicity, and he had been put down twice by this creature. It was supposed to be impossible. Not even Celestia could figure out is conniving schemes. Discord realized he was dealing with something on a far greater magnitude than Celestia. He was not of this world, he could think “outside of the box”. Discord knew he was foolish in imagining that the man who conquered most of the world would be stupid.
Discord tried to use his magic again, but found that it was suppressed by a great power. What was strong enough to suppress him? It was impossible. Chaos magic was on a powerful on a magnitude incomparable to other forms of magic. Discord was the strongest wielder of Chaotic magic that ever existed. Only the Elements of Harmony could stop him, and only temporarily.
Dieter observed Discord’s straining with cold indifference. “There is someone you should meet before you go, Discord” he said.
Discord gritted his teeth at Dieter’s mocking tone. Nevertheless, he was interested as to who was suppressing him. He stared to where Dieter was pointing. His eyes widened as he saw who it was. This was a day for firsts; for the first time in centuries, Discord blanched. There, standing before him was an ever familiar lavender colored unicorn. It was Twilight Sparkle. Discord rounded on Dieter in shock.
“Twilight Sparkle? How did you get her to join you? She is only loyal to Celestia.” Discords voice was tremulous. “How did she become so powerful?”
“I have ways.” Dieter stated coldly.
It had been hard to break her. It had taken hours of psychological torture. That wasn’t truly effective, either. She had resisted him even as her mind had begun to break. In the end, Dieter fell back to the same method he had used on Shining Armor. He threatened to torture her baby dragon, Spike. Her mind had broken, and she had sworn her allegiance on the spot. Dieter was still cautious around her. She could turn on him at any time. He made a point of being heavily armed whenever she was around. As for the increased power, Dieter had injected her with experimental magic stimulants which amplified her magical powers seven-fold. She was more powerful than Celestia by an order of magnitude.
Discord, however, could not be broken. There was nothing to break him with. Torture had no use on him, since his nerves had long since died while encased in stone. Psychological torture was useless, since there was none worse than being encased for eons in stone. Discord wasn’t attached to anything, so he could not be threatened through the torture of an individual. Death was the only logical conclusion.
Discord obviously came to the same conclusion. He suddenly straightened up. He beat his wings frantically, trying to escape from the ring of Germanean soldiers. Dieter raised his hand, leaving it opened. Discord began to lift off the ground. His eyes seemed to plead with Dieter for his life. Dieter smiled coldly at seeing such a foe humbled with such ease. He made a fist. Thousands of rounds of ammunition tore through Discord as over two hundred sub-machineguns were fired at him. His wings were severed, his head was pulped, and several of his limbs were completely amputated by the hail of bullets. Blood sprayed all over the building behind him, leaving odd, chaotic patterns. Ichor spattered against the pavement, leaving it slick with the viscous red fluid.
Dieter stared at the corpse for several seconds. After a while, he turned to his soldiers.
“Remove the body and incinerate it. Have the engineers clean off the building and street.” Dieter spoke like an automaton.
Cloudsdale was a city of vital strategic importance. Cloudsdale was the weather control hub of Equestria. It would form a key part of Dieters plan for the Siege of Canterlot. As a weather hub, it could be used to weaponize weather, which was of great importance. Dieter had to seize the city before it could be used against him. Cloudsdale was made of clouds (thus the name), and was only accessible to pegasi. The logical choice would be to assault Cloudsdale with pegasi units.
The Germanean army feinted a move towards Canterlot. All guard units were recalled towards the capital in an effort to counter the perceived assault. Cloudsdale was left poorly garrisoned. The Germanean pegasi then began their assault on Cloudsdale, aware that the Royal Guard would make a counterattack from Canterlot.
It was another peaceful day in Cloudsdale. Despite the war, families were out pretending that the war did not exist. They did it for the sake of the children, knowing full well that it couldn’t be hidden from them forever. The inhabitants of Cloudsdale were quite startle when several thousand Germanean flyers suddenly landed in the city.
Quickly and efficiently, the city was locked down and martial law was placed in effect. The red banners of the First Reich were to be seen hanging all over the city, enchanted to be held by clouds. Curfews were placed in effect, and those who broke the new, harsh laws were shot, their corpses pitched from the city to break on the ground far beneath. The citizens needed no further prompting, and returned to their homes without struggle. Germanean units began to set up defensive fortifications against the impending counter-assault from Canterlot. In a day, Cloudsdale had become a sea of grey, heavily armed ponies.
The counter-assault from Canterlot took two hours to reach Cloudsdale. By that time, the city was fully fortified. The first wave of Equestrian Pegasi fighters closed in, their pure white bodies and golden armor easily visible against the night sky. Cloud mounted Flak installations placed all around the city spat fire into the air. Blossoming explosions filled the night the night air, dazzling all those who saw them. Shrapnel punched through the weak armor of the Royal Guard, and several spiralled to the earth, trailing blood. They shattered against the ground, their organs ruptured, and bones broken.
Germanean flyers launched themselves from the city. The two lines charged each other. The Germanean pegasi units fired leg mounted Maschinegewehr-56 machine guns. Scything bolts of ammunition lanced out from the Germanean lines. The Royal Guard flyers banked and weaved through the hail of fire. Several were struck by rounds. Blood blossomed in the air as bullets opened throats, shattered bones and punched through heads. The noise of battle was overwhelming, the screams of the dying mixing in with staccato bursts of machinegun fire. Loud detonations filled the air as the flak cannons continued their merciless barrage.
The Equestrian troopers that did make it through the air screen were mercilessly mowed down by pegasi reserves. The pure white clouds of Cloudsdale turned crimson with the blood of the dead. The dying writhed and moaned, their sporadic movements trailing various blood patterns onto the clouds beneath them.
On the ground, Equestrian unicorn units engaged Germanean infantry. Artillery rained from the heavens, striking massed units of Royal Guardsponies. They screamed as pieces of shrapnel lacerated them, and their limbs were removed by massive expulsions of heat and force. Machinegun nests spouted flame as the Equestrians advanced, and several of the royal guard were bisected by suppressing fire. Blood dyed the grass a dark, ruby red.
Germanean panzers advanced, pushing pack the Equestrian assault. The tanks recoiled as their main cannons fired, and several guardsponies were dismembered or decapitated by the force of the blasts. Pintle mounted machine guns spat walls of ammunition. The ground shook as if it was being struck by the fist of an angry god. It broke the spirit of the ground assault, and they fled.
Mortar and artillery rounds followed them, blasting them from their feet. Several were sent spinning end over end like ragdolls by the sheer concussive force. One pony had his spine broken by the shockwave. He lay, unable to speak or move, slowly dying as he was paralyzed. Another fell spasmodically as a shell fragment punched through his eyes and punctured his brain in a spurt of blood. Another simply collapsed, his innards burst by shockwaves. Yet another rocked back and forth, his ears bleeding. His eardrums had been ruptured by the concussive force of the fifteen centimeter cannons.
The battle was not going well for the Equestrian air units as well. A full seventy-five percent of their number had been killed, falling to the ground as they were blasted apart by flak rounds. Blood misted on the air, creating strange, red fog on the ground. Several pegasi had their wings torn off by gunfire or by their Germanean counterparts. They plummeted to the ground, screaming in fear and agony before being dashed to pieces on the earth below.
The Equestrians fled, machine gun and flak fire following them, sending hundreds spiraling out of control as they were lacerated by streams of led. Cloudsdale was now firmly within Germanean control, and Germanean scientists began work on. Only two major cities remained free: Horsescow and Canterlot. The end was in sight.
Krasnyy Rassvet looked up as a shell whistled over head. She relaxed by the fire once again when she realized that it wasn’t headed for her position. Explosions resounded in the distance, and brilliant flashes of light could be seen from the outer perimeter of the city. Hooviet positions had been under constant bombardment for weeks. It was never quiet as the screams of the dying mixed in with the cacophony of the shelling. One could never get used to it.
The attacks were worse. The noise would become unbearable as creeping barrages were fired at Hooviet strong points. The ground would shake under the weight of the barrage. Then, there would be silence. The silence would continue for some time, with the defenders fearfully awaiting the inevitable attack. Gunfire would start, the Germaneans hosing down streets with machine guns, and picking off targets with rifles. Germanean snipers would take targets of opportunity, bursting hearts and punching heads clean from shoulders. Tanks would close in, firing their dreadful cannons. The Hooviets would fire back with captured Germanean weapons, but it was rarely enough. The Hooviets would be pushed back, and the Germaneans would spend several days fortifying their positions.
A mortar screeched out of the air. Next to her, a red army soldier screamed as shrapnel punched clean through his chest. He sank to the ground, blood and pus oozing from the chest wound to stain the ground crimson. A sudden flurry of screeching noises pierced Krasnyy’s ears.
“INCOMING!” A soldier yelled.
Krasnyy threw herself to the ground, as artillery shells began to detonate all around. Above her, a building was shattered as a fifteen centimeter round impacted with it. She rolled out of the way of falling debris as the building began to crumble like a child’s toy. One of her comrades was not so lucky. A piece of rubble shattered his skull, causing grey brain matter to splatter all over the street. Krasnyy felt her gorge rise.
The shelling stopped. The silence was almost deafening after the near constant storm of artillery. There was only the moans and screams of the wounded to break the peace. She glanced around. One of her fellow soldiers had had his legs blown off, blood was pouring from his stumps. His legs lay roughly a meter away, where they had been thrown by the concussive blast of artillery. Another was missing an eye where shrapnel had punctured the eyeball. He rocked back and forth, cradling his head. His eye socket wept blood, the viscous fluid coating his coat and the ground around him. Yet another lay still, eyes closed. Krasnyy would have thought that he was sleeping if it weren’t for his opened jugular. There was blood all around, covering the walls, covering the ground, covering her. It was like hell itself.
The silence was tense. An attack was coming, they all knew it. They huddled and hid behind whatever cover they could, waiting for the bullets to fly. It was horrible, in many ways worse than shelling. They knew that there was something out there, but they didn’t know what it was. One of the soldiers stuck his head over the barricade.
“Maybe they aren’t coming?” He asked hopefully.
His head snapped back as a Kar53K round flew through the air. There was a loud crack half a second later. A sudden hail of bullets came from the distance, shredding the ground around the barricade in a merciless barrage of destructive potential. Several rounds punched through the hastily erected barricades, lacerated the defenders behind them. They screamed as the bullets punched through their skin, bursting blood vessels and stopping hearts.
“FOR THE FATHERLAND!”came the distant call.
“FOR THE FUHRER!” the other Germaneans replied.
“FOR THE MOTHERLAND!” Krasnyy screamed, aiming down the sights of her captured rifle.
The Hooviet line returned fire. They were much less experienced with firearms, but they did their best to match the brutal efficiency of the Germanean soldiers. A distant MG-56 opened up on the Hooviet line, its staccato bursts deafening. There was a rumble of engines. Krasnyys heart fluttered as she saw the unmistakable outline of a Panzer VIII.
“Look out, it’s a Maus!” she cried.
The turret rotated as the gunners aimed at the barricade. The fifteen centimeter cannon looked like the maw of some angry beast. Krasnyy paused for a moment, dumbfounded at this newest development. Her fellow soldiers opened fire at the mechanized beast. It was a pointless gesture as the bullets ricocheted off the extremely thick plate armor. Pintel and axle mounted machineguns began to spray fire from the tank’s hull. Several soldiers were bisected by the stream of ammunition, their blood spraying wildly across the street, soaking into the cobblestones.
The main gun fired. There was a massive expulsion of smoke and fire from the muzzle of the cannon. A large booming noise resonated around the street. The shell tore through the air at the speed of sound. It detonated against the street. Several of Krasnyy’s squad died as shrapnel killed them in a variety of agonizing ways. One had his head severed completely, while another had his carotid opened. The artery jutting blood at random angles. Yet another was disemboweled, his intestines looping around his legs like crimson streamers. One simply disappeared in a welter of blood, gore, and bone fragments. Krasnyy herself was buried under a pile of rubble.
Krasnyy crawled out to find the muzzles of dozens of guns pointed at her head. She sighed. There was no escaping it this time. She stood up slowly, resentfully. There was no point in resisting. Several of the Germanean soldiers advanced on her position, hooves on the triggers.
“Disarm yourself and put your hooves on the back of your head.” The commanding officer called.
Krasnyy angrily threw down her rifle. She then carefully and slowly drew her service pistol, pointing it at the ground to show non-aggression. She dropped that, too. She slowly placed her front hooves to the back of her head.
“I surrender.” She called derisively.
Germanean assaults continued on all fronts in the City of Horsescow. Day and night the artillery bombardments would further demoralize entrenched Hooviet forces. The rate of desertion and surrenders increased daily. It became especially bad when the Hooviet parliament was destroyed by heavy artillery. Although the building was not in use, the symbolism was not lost on any of the soldiers. Morale plummeted among Hooviet ranks.
The army was decapitated when the high command officers were killed in a meeting. It was yet another of the infamous Eindringlingesturmbrigaden raids. The generals, it was rumoured were rather messily decapitated by the Germanean infiltrators. Once again, the symbolism was obvious. The Germaneans certainly did have almost poetic way of carrying out warfare. The Hooviet army was thrown into discord and chaos in a way similar to the disaster at Stalliongrad. There was sporadic resistance to the Germanean advance, but nothing heavy. Within weeks, Horsescow had completely fallen under Germanean control. The hooviet Union was dissolved on March 4, 1258, only two years had passed since the beginning of the war. Over twenty-four million ponies had died on the Hooviet front, most of them had been with the Hooviet Red Army. These were figures on a scale previously unseen in world history.
At this point, only Equestria remained resistant. Canterlot was the endgame, and it was within sight.
By the Summer of 1258 E.F., most opposition to the Germanean First Reich had been obliterated. Prance had fallen, the blitzkrieg there leaving thousands of casualties. The Griffin Kingdoms had been annihilated, Germanean forces left over thirteen-and-a-half million casualties behind. The Griffin capital, Olympus, had been reduced to ruins, and the Griffins brought to the brink of extinction. The collapse of the Crystal Empire had been catastrophic for the Equestrian War effort, as it caused widespread demoralization. This was only compounded by the capture of both Princess Cadence and the charismatic General Shining Armor prior to the fall of the Empire. Furthermore, the Elements of Harmony, considered Equestria’s last, best, hope had been terminated during the Battle of Ponyville, causing widespread demoralization and desertion among the Equestrian rank and file. The Hooviet Union had been occupied after years of heavy fighting. Over twenty-four million casualties were left in the wake of the ruthless Germanean advance. Only Equestria remained defiant, their capital of Canterlot still proudly jutted from the craggy heights of Mount Avalon.
On June 21st, 1258 E.F., Germanean forces reached Canterlot. It was an event considered both impossible and unthinkable in equal measure during the outbreak of the war in 1256. Canterlot had originally been considered by many to be impregnable. That had been shattered by the Changeling Invasion in 1250. Even then, the Equestrian Royal Guard had been sluggish to adapt. A millennia of peace had made them ineffective, bloated and incapable. The pacifistic tendencies of the Equestrian ponies had made military development unviable and unfeasible. This lapse in judgement would be punished by the harshest of outcomes.
As Germanean advanced units approached the gates of Canterlot, both Princesses Celestia and Luna prepared a defensive shield network unlike any other in Equestrian history. General Shining Armor’s defensive network could not even compare to the Princesses’. At this point, Canterlot was once again considered impregnable. Life continued almost as usual underneath the dome, although supplies were heavily rationed by the Princesses. There was the hope that the Germaneans would eventually be discouraged and withdraw from the walls of Canterlot.
Captain Golden Phalanx stared out from the walls of Canterlot. In the distance, he could see the grey mass of Germanean forces in the distance. The colors were slightly distorted by the golden glow of Celestia’s shield. Distorted color didn’t make a difference, Phalanx supposed. They could be annihilated, no matter how they looked. They wouldn’t be able to exact any damage upon the city, and would be summarily annihilated once they attacked. Many had claimed that the Germaneans would withdraw soon. Phalanx hoped that it would not be the case. He wanted revenge for all of the lives the Germaneans had taken.
There were several bright flashes in the distance. Phalanx was puzzled as to what they were. He had not been on the front before. There was a sudden succession whistling shriek. Phalanx winced at the noise. It had been thoroughly unexpected. The shield lit up in the areas the shells hit, and there were thundering explosions in the air overhead. Several civilians looked up in fear at the spectacle, while others flattened themselves against the ground, covering their ears. Celestia’s shield held. Several more flashes appeared, and the shield flashed more. Phalanx found himself almost deafened by the horribly loud noises. He smiled. It would be over soon. He was right, the shelling ended after exactly six hours. Night had fallen.
Celestia was confused. Why had the shelling stop? She knew Dieter Heinrich well enough to know that he would not quit. Surely he realized that she could only hold the shield for so long? Judging from his personality, he would not stop doing something unless he had found a much more efficient way of going about it. Celestia shivered. That could not bode well.
She reached out with her mind, trying to sense something, anything. What she found nearly broke her concentration. There was a being of momentous magical power. She recognized that mind, for she had touched it many times before. It was different, though. It was grey, emotionless and devoid. It was the mind of something controlled, leashed, and subdued so that all free will was lost. It was painful to look into. Celestia gasped.
“Twilight...”she whispered.
Ruhig Todesfall and fifty of his Eindringlingesturmbrigaden troopers watched Twilight Sparkle cautiously. Her personality and mind had been completely suppressed, they had been told. However, one could never be too cautious. They were under strict orders to kill her if she rebounded from having her mind shattered. A lavender aura surrounded her horn as she concentrated on Celestia’s shield. She strained and pushed against it, unwinding the magical threads that had been used to build it. The shield began to flicker. After a few more seconds, it died. It was not dramatic. It was there one moment, and gone the next. The siege began in earnest.
“You have done well, Twilight Sparkle.” Dieter spoke without emotion.
“I am here to serve, my Fuhrer.” Twilight replied blandly, like a machine.
Golden Phalanx was afraid. He hated to admit it to himself, and he would not admit it to his ponies, but he was seized by terror. Celestia’s shield, one of the most complex constructs on ponykind’s history, had died. What could have done this? In the distance, there were bright lights as Germanean artillery resumed fire. This time, Golden Phalanx didn’t smile. He threw himself to the ground as fifteen and seven-point-seven centimetre shells began to land in the streets of Canterlot.
The civilians, who had frozen when the shield died, began to scream in terror. Their screams mixed in with the whistling of the shells. Explosions pounded the walls. Several Guardsponies were thrown from the walls, plummeting to their deaths at the base of mount Avalon. Several ponies were obliterated by shells, their blood coating the streets and walls. Phalanx almost vomited, despite the fact that it was almost physically impossible for Equines to wretch.
He spun to see a guardspony laying on the ground, his hoof covering his neck, where a piece of shrapnel had imbedded itself. Blood spurted wildly from the wound, and the guardspony made a gargling noise, drowning on his own vital fluid. Mortars joined the bombardment, and buildings crumbled under the force of direct impacts. Ponies were crushed by falling debris, their cries torturing Phalanx’s soul. There was a scraping noise behind him. He wheeled around.
“What the f—?” His query was cut short when Hochrot Nacht shot him cleanly through the head with her MP-56, pitching him back to fall into the city.
Hochrot Nacht scaled the wall with the rest of her ten pony squad. The captain had been an easy kill. The Royal Guard were tactically unaware. Their primary objective was to secure the royals, and to break up Royal Guard attempts to coordinate. They had been given complete freedom of action within those boundaries. The logical method to sow chaos, was to terminate the commanding officers. It was nothing new.
They moved up scanning for targets. Their telepathic link with the artillery officers told them the vicinity in which shells would land, enabling them to avoid shell fire. The Eindringlingesturmbrigaden unit, in turn, would help designate shelling positions. It was undeniably efficient. The Fuhrer was truly a military genius to have though up such a plan.
They cloaked, and became invisible to the naked eye. Their mental signatures were also cloaked, so that they were undetectable in all ways. They saw a squad of Royal Guardsponies rallying around a captain. One shot. The bullet punched through his heart. His comrades recoiled in shock as blood sprayed wildly, and he collapsed to the ground.
They continued, scanning for targets as they went along. There was another contact, a singular officer calling out a rally point. Another shot. This bullet punched through her jugular, shattering her larynx. She tried to gasp through a ruptured throat. They left her to choke on her own blood.
There was a shell incoming. They teleported as one, leaving the blast area. They re-appeared in the midst of several Guardsponies. The guards had barely time to think before they were shot down in a hail of bullets. Their lacerated corpses fell to the ground, dead. The squad continued. Their targets were terminated, thus needing no further thought. They were almost at the palace. They re-cloaked.
They came upon the central palace courtyard. They found hundreds of ponies gathered around, waiting for the order to advance. Several grenades were lobbed. The Guardsponies stared at the potato mashers in confusion. Their confusion ended when the grenades exploded, sending shrapnel and limbs flying wildly around the courtyard. Bone fragments acted as shrapnel as they lacerated the ponies around them. The survivors were ruthlessly gunned down by the advancing Eindringlingesturmbrigaden.
The gates to the throne room were locked. This had been expected and accounted for. Each of the Eindringlingesturmbrigaden pulled out a piece of plastic explosive. The explosives was attached to the bolted doors. Timers were connected. The Germaneans fell back to a safe distance. There was a thunderous explosion, and the door was blown off its hinges.
Inside, the two royal sisters prepared to sell their lives dearly. Celestia’s horn glowed a vibrant gold, while Luna’s was a dark blue. The Eindringlingesturmbrigaden were hardened by years of warfare, and their minds were extremely focused. Furthermore, mental stimulants were coursing through their veins. Together, they were magically superior to both the Princesses combined. Prior to this, it would also have been considered an impossibility, ten ordinary unicorns overpowering two alicorns.
In the distance there was the sound of marching hooves, punctuated by gunfire. Hochrot Nacht stepped forward.
“Your forces are caught in a pincer movement. They are only moments away from total annihilation. Tell them to stand down and surrender to our forces, or thousands more will die.” Hochrot Nacht spoke without emotion.
Celestia froze in a moment of indecision. Then, she scowled.
“No.” she replied, “I will not yield to your evil intent.”
Celestia jerked back as her mind was suddenly filled with an agony that she considered impossible. From the way Luna’s face was contorting, she knew that her sister was experiencing as well. Even worse, she could feel Twilight’s magical signature registering intense agony. She and her sister could withstand that kind of pain for protracted periods of time, but an ordinary unicorn such as Twilight could not. Celestia ceased to resist.
“I submit.” She hissed in pain.
“Then do as you were told.” Came the reply.
Celestia flew to the top of the palace spire. The magical suppression eased just enough for her to use the Canterlot voice for the first time in centuries.
“BRAVE SOLDIERS OF EQUESTRIA, THY PRINCESS SPEAKS! THOU HAST FOUGHT WELL AND HARD FOR US, AND THOU HAST SACRIFICED MUCH! WE CANNOT DEMAND THIS FROM THEE ANY LONGER! THOU ART TO LAY DOWN THY ARMS AND SURRENDER TO THE GERMANEAN FORCES! WE HAVE DISCUSSED THIS WITH THEM, AND THEY HAVE STATED THAT NO HARM SHALL COME TO THEE!”
Celestia’s voice resonated around the city. The Royal Guardsponies ceased to fight. They all recognized the Princess’s voice. They hesitated before throwing down their weapons. They slowly raised their front hooves in surrender. After a day of hard fighting, Canterlot had been taken. Equestria had fallen.
Dieter swept into the palace, his red cape billowing out behind him. He showed no emotion, and his face seemed as though it was carved from stone. He paused a moment. Celestia and Luna glowered at him with hatred in their eyes. Dieter finally smiled. It was a cold, chilling thing. “I have returned.” He said simply.
Dieter stared out over from the window, his back turned to the princesses. Their horns had been covered by magic suppressors, and they were incapable of performing even the most basic of spells. Celestia and Luna, assuming that Dieter’s attention was not upon them tried to remove the suppressors. They wouldn’t come off, and each tug was greeted with agony. They continued, nevertheless.
Dieter suddenly spoke. “I wouldn’t do that too much. If you remove the suppressors, your horns will go with them. It is, I am told, excruciating.”
Celestia and Luna blanched in surprise. They thought that he hadn’t noticed their movements. Outside, fires continued to burn, their orange glow casting eerie shadows in the dawn’s light. Dieter nodded to himself. The princesses were suppressed, and nature still took its course. They had simply used it to control the populace. It was pathetic. They had to find a way to keep to populace complacent through pretending that they were deities. Domination through the threat of violence was much better at keeping the population under control, but alert.
“Why are you like this? Why are you so cold and violent? Why are you so sadistic? Does nothing compute with you?” Celestia asked, trying to play on his conscience.
Dieter smiled coldly. He turned to face the Princesses, who found themselves thoroughly chilled by his expression.
“You think I enjoy this, don’t you?” He asked, “You think that I kill, torture, and dominate for fun. You think that I laugh as I work. Everything computes with me, Celestia. I simply view things without the taint of emotion. Emotions only cause pain. I know this first hand.”
Celestia blinked, her puzzlement evident.
“You believe that peace can be won through pacifism, through non-aggression. Peace is won by one thing, and one thing alone. Strength. To be feared is much better than to be loved. Fear ensures loyalty and discipline, and by extension, peace. Pacifism pertains to a lack of loyalty, as people rebel against your will. This is plainly evident with you, Celestia. In the course of a millennium, you have been reduced to a powerful figurehead. Although you officially had supreme executive power, you were somewhat limited by the noble houses. They did not outright usurp you simply because they were afraid of the people, and your raw magical ability. It is possible they may have even feared your student, Twilight Sparkle. They believed that she was going to enforce your rule somehow, perhaps with their own elimination. The ordinary ponies thought of you and your sister as ‘deities’, and they believed that you controlled sun and moon. This is physically impossible, despite your powers, and was likely only a way of keeping everyone in check.” Dieter spoke coldly, his face giving nothing away.
Celestia was shocked. Dieter had seen through her veil that easily? He was obviously very insightful. What kind of world did he come from for him to understand such things so easily? It was true, she and Luna did not control the sun and moon. Celestia still tried to find a way out of the fix that they were in.
“What about when you...shot Philomena? I was comatose for four days, and for four days, the sun did not rise.” She shot a mock glance of annoyance at Luna.
“That was purely coincidental. It occurs naturally, once every thousand or so years. You likely used a similar event as an excuse to banish Luna to the moon when she became Nightmare Moon. It would have been used to solidify your political position if I had not killed your pet phoenix.” Dieter fairly grinned. The ponies were truly foolish not to have thought of that. This could be explained by the fact that most of them were semi-illiterate. Dieter had seen their education system. It consisted primarily of teaching them about “cutie marks” and their “destiny.” The only true intellectual he had met was likely Twilight Sparkle, and she had been kept on leash with blind faith in Celestia.
Celestia once again found herself blanching at Dieter’s insight.
“As for my reasons...it is a long story.”
“I was born on September 4, 1912. My early childhood was happy. The first two years of my life were times of plenty. I had a loving family, a kind mother, a reasonable father, and caring brother. Everything seemed perfect. I was still blissfully ignorant of the tensions that plagued Europe at that time. It was an innocent time for me.
When the Great War broke out in 1914, my father was one of the first to join the great army of the German Empire. I remember wondering why my father had to leave. At that point in my life, war was a concept that was alien to me. I did wonder why my mother was crying, but I did not pay it much thought at that time.” Dieter recited this without emotion.
“Four years passed. My father had miraculously survived what, at the time, had been the most brutal war in human history. He came back...changed. He tensed at loud noises. We were told not to whistle around him. When we disobeyed, he would scream something about shells, and threw himself to the ground. The war likely never left him until the day he died. This was a time of starvation and lack. The Great War had left the nation destitute, and the German people were required to pay for a war they did not start. My father worked hard to make ends meet in, of all places, a factory. I worked with him, despite my young age. My brother struck out to find his own work.
Then, one day, disaster struck our family. Father and I had received our money from the owner of the factory. A week’s worth of pay was only good enough for a single loaf of bread. People were desperate. As my father and I walked down a dark alley towards our home, we were threatened by two knife toting robbers. They demanded our money. Father was a brave man of action and honor, and he resisted. They slashed him to death. When I screamed, they beat me within an inch of my life.
After I healed from my injuries, I noticed a steady decline in my mother’s spirits. She never spoke, she rarely did anything, and she avoided me and Erich as best she could. I suppose she couldn’t bear to be reminded of her dead husband. She killed herself just after I turned twelve.” There was flicker of what looked like mourning in Dieter’s eyes. It was quickly replaced by his cold indifference. “You have no idea what it is like to wake up one morning, to find your own mother hanging from the ceiling.”
Celestia was horrified by what she heard. What kind of world was this? What people could continually fight as such and inflict such suffering on one another?
“I and my brother, Erich, were orphaned. Erich was saddened, but he didn’t hold it against the murderers. I, being the more impulsive child, swore vengeance. They haunted my memories, and I felt my soul harden against them. My father was not the only one they had killed. They were arrested for fifteen other deaths. My hatred boiled over. I snuck into the prison in which they were held in the night. Using a gun I had stolen from a police officer, I shot both of them in cold blood.
I suddenly realized that I had descended to their level. I had become a murderer, a merciless killer. For many years I was tortured by what I had done. I had taken the lives of two human beings. They had killed my father, and devastated my family, certainly, but that did not give me the right to simply kill them. I made sure that Erich never found out, and I was never caught. But I was tortured by the realization that I had taken the lives of two beings created in the image of God.
I was nineteen when Adolf Hitler took power in 1933. He had spoken of a utopia filled with the racially pure, one through strength. I was fully enraptured with his ideas. I agreed. I believed in everything he said. It seemed so wonderful. A world of perfection and peace, what else could one want. When the Waffen-S.S. was established, I was one of the first ones to sign up. I was quickly initiated as an officer when I showed an ‘amazing gift in the skills of combat and tactics.’ Furthermore, I had an excellent memory and was often considered one of the best. I rose through the ranks quickly, and earned the Iron Cross first and second class in the invasions of Poland and France.
Erich joined the Wermacht. By sheer chance, our units served together. He distinguished himself in both France and Poland. For a time, I was happy. I had finally found a place where I was fed and cared for, where I was respected for who I was. My men looked up at me with what could be considered awe. They admired my combat ability, my tactical and strategic domination. Several claimed that I was living proof of Aryan superiority. I quickly forgot about the men I killed. Killing no longer computed with me, since I had repeated the actions so many times.” Dieter had regained his composure, and now spoke almost mechanically, as if reciting from a book.
“The Invasion of Crete was another battle that I had taken part in. I remember it clearly. We were dropped from the skies, to take this small island from the British. I hated flying. It made me nervous to be in a situation over which I had no control whatsoever. The plane, for all I knew, could be shot down anytime. I did not want to be incinerated within that infernal machine, and I certainly did not want to plummet to my death.
I was thankful to be on the ground. I had been in combat many times, and the actions were like friends to me. Bullets whizzed overhead. I saw men on both sides dying. We had been scattered far from our correct landing positions, and many of my men were separated and shot by zealous British forces. It was horrifying. So many of my men died, and I had killed so many of the enemy. It was worse than other battles that I had been in. One thing truly haunts me. I had destroyed a British machine gun position. Having run out of ammunition, I affixed my bayonet and charged. There was one survivor. He could only have been eighteen, and he had the most beautiful brown eyes I had ever seen. He stared up at me with hope in his eyes. He reached up as if to shake my hand, his own shaking in fear. I drove nine inches of steel through his eye. Part of me died that day. It had been different previously. I had either been fired upon, or I had good cause to do what I did. This boy had done nothing but followed his orders, and I killed him. It was only compounded when I was awarded the Knight’s Cross for my actions.”
Celestia and Luna shuddered at this grisly account. It was made that much more chilling by Dieter’s lack of emotion outside of his words.
“Worse was yet to come. Just twenty-one days later, Operation Barbarossa began. I was selected to be part of the Invasion of the Soviet Union. Erich was attached to my unit. After months of heavy fighting, things seemed to be going our way. We had pushed our way to the gates of Moscow, and had laid siege to Leningrad. We were repulsed time and time again. Then, there was Stalingrad.
I was at Stalingrad. It was a horrible fight. At first, it seemed that we would win. After three months, we had taken ninety percent of the city, which by that time, had been reduced to piles of rubble. We were swarmed by Soviet forces, who charged at us crying ‘Not one step back!’, ‘For the Motherland!’, and ‘There is no land beyond the Volga!’. During this time, they began hugging our lines so that our own artillery would hit us.
Erich died there. He was standing next to me. The next moment I was thrown back a massive explosion. I escaped with only a few bruises. Erich was not so lucky. He was staring down at his torso in distant horror as his intestines spilled out through a crescent moon slash. I rushed to him shortly before he collapsed, his guts wrapping around his legs as he staggered forward. He died in my arms. By that time, I had finally realized that growing attached to people, to love someone, would only end in pain. Everything would eventually die. There was no point. I detached myself from what was happening, and became known as ‘soulless’. I prided myself in logic and indifference, just as you find me today. We were repulsed from Stalingrad, and began the long retreat towards the Fatherland, Germany.
Many died during the retreat, as we were harried by Soviet ambushes. I lost many friends. I mourned not, I did not care. My own life was not truly important to me. We were failing because we were not strong enough to stay the course, to keep pushing. Hitler himself was weak, his ideas and fascination with the occult severely hampering the strategies the Generalfeldmarschals put forth. He, I found, did not know how to wage war.
We retreated all the way back to Berlin. I was determined to escape, not for my sake, but to resurrect the Reich. That has been my purpose. I will bring peace through war. Pacifism will always lead to further conflict, as the strong swallow the weak. But domination and pacification were logical ways to put an end to resistance. I didn’t know how I would do it, but I swore that I would. But before I could escape, I was shot.” Dieter looked bored.
“I awoke here. Slowly, I began to realize how pathetic you really are. You have built a society around pacifism and love. Such a society is inherently weak. You have argued that Equestria has lasted a thousand years. However, this thousand years were years of technological stagnation. It was clearly demonstrated to me how your military is inadequate even against pathetic, mentally retarded foes such as the Diamond Dogs and the Changelings. I annihilated both singlehandedly. This was something you were truly incapable of. Love, you reasoned would heal all things. Peace, you thought, would stop you from being attacked. I know firsthand that this is foolish. Only strength will stop strength, and war will stop war. That is the way of the world.
It was in all inevitability that your nation would collapse within the next two years. You were surrounded on all sides by power hungry foes, such as the Griffons and the Hooviets. I simply hastened your downfall, to secure final domination. Even now, your infantile nobility is being purged. They are corrupt, and thus a threat to the efficiency of the New Order. I still have not decided what to do with you, however. Logic dictates that I terminate you as well, but the emotional side of my personality, which still has not been fully buried, wishes to grant you mercy. It is an idea now alien to me. The Changeling Queen begged my mercy, and it was not provided. Your general, Shining Armor did not beg, and mercy was not granted either. Your student begged when I threatened those she loved, and she was not shown mercy either. Instead we suppressed her free will and broke her spirit. I have two logical options. I can kill you, or I can dominate you.” Dieter spoke with an utter lack of emotion. It was almost as if he was simply talking about the weather. Celestia and Luna stared at him in defiance. They would not be his slaves. They would refuse to submit to him. They were the strongest willed beings in Equestria, and they would fight him to the end. Their minds could not be changed.
“We will never submit!” Celestia snarled.
“I didn’t ask which fate you would prefer.” Dieter replied, grinning in a way reminiscent of a predator that has cornered its prey.
He reached a decision. He gestured to the guard, and made a slicing motion over his throat. He turned away as the Princesses were dragged out. Two shots rang out, followed by two thumps as their corpses hit the floor of the palace. He smiled as he stared out over the beautiful Equestrian countryside, marred by war. A new era had arrived.
Seven years to the day had passed since the Reich’s glorious victory over the pathetic powers that ruled over the continent, and the Reich’s crimson flag hung over the heads of eight hundred million souls, both subjugated and free. From Vanhoover to Horsecow, to Canterlot itself, the Reich demonstrated its obvious, total, superiority.
Even now, parades filed through dozens of great cities, and even through some small towns. In Canterlot, a million soldiers paraded, as the fearful populace, still scarred by war peaked out at the streets. Through Cloudsdale, the Pegasi Corps both flew and marched, heads held high, weapons clenched in wings or hooves, whichever were available. Stalliongrad hid under the watchful gaze of the Heer Infantry, the detritus of the previous night’s riot already cleaned. The only evidence of the violence that had occurred was from the smoke rising in the air as the bodies of those slain by the Germanean Soldiers burned. Two million marched there.
But none of the marches could compare to the one held in Marelin. Grey uniforms were resplendent in the sun, which rose above the clouds for the first time in a month. Five million soldiers snaked through the streets of Marelin in long columns, regimental standards held high in the air for the world to see. Crimson banners marked with the Iron Cross, the Deutschenkreuz fluttered in the breeze.
The proud, glorious music was blared by bands who marched ahead of the individual units. Few knew where the music had truly come from, but a popular rumor was that it was an old song written in the Fuhrer’s homeland of Germany. The cheering reached a high as the Fuhrer’s own regiment, the 1st Eindringlingesturmbrigaden passed by, saluting their Fuhrer.
Overhead, the various Pegasi of the Luftangriffsabteilung flew past, causing a large breeze. To the crowd’s delight, they zoomed downwards, simulating strafing runs and airstrikes on the people they had fought for. Panzers rumbled through as the Panzergrendiers passed through. Several of the younger Germaneans stood in awe as the famous Panzer VIII Maus tanks shook the very earth. These house sized behemoths of war already convincing many that they wished to be in the Panzer Korps when they came of age. In all, there were a thousand of these immense machines passing through Marelin: A ridiculous, but effective number, to be sure. Newly designed bipedal gunnery platforms strode along, looking like strange, metal animals. These remained in prototype phase, and would enter full deployment at the Fuhrer’s discretion. Thousands of other tanks filed through the streets, and the cheers became deafening.
From a building, the operatives Geheime Reichspolizei nodded, satisfied. They had been monitoring a specific Earth Pony for some time. As the sun rose in the sky, it became evident that the Earth Pony, was not, in fact a pony. It was another of those Zebra spies, disguised magically. Within minutes, the “Earth Pony” had disappeared into the GRP safe houses that were scattered about. Cold blooded torture took place, answers extracted, and a body, flayed, exsanguinated, and scorched, was quietly disposed of. No one but a select few knew of this horror. No one heard the screams over the music, the marching, or the “heil”-ing. Just as well.
The Geheime Reichspolizei did not like interruptions.
High above the roiling crowds, Dieter Heinrich, Fuhrer of the immortal Germanean Reich, smiled. His infamous knife imbedded cleanly in a map of the world. It pointed to one country, and the light made it seem as though the map itself bled. Dieter turned, eyes cold, and prepared.