Is Priceless Beyond Recognition
The shot rang out, and it was then that time seemed to almost stop.
Zero seconds.
The loud bang came from a deep red pony with maroon hair, whose grey eyes showed a manic lust for death and destruction. On his hoof was a peculiar contraption: a metal band was wrapped around the hoof, which held multiple cylindrical tubes made of the same metal. On the "top" end of each was a hammer-like piece which struck a compressed package of mixed saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal powder inside each tube, which would propel a small iron ball at violent speeds with the intent to kill. The "bottom" end was open to release the iron ball, which one of them was currently releasing the explosive results of the hammer-like piece slamming down onto the mixture known as gunpowder. This contraption was known as a gun.
The iron ball, known as a bullet, was currently traveling at 896 meters per second towards the head of Princess Celestia, who had just bowed down after finishing her speech. There were multiple guards around her, each with a gun on their right or left hoof. They were standing guard, keeping a watchful eye out for anypony who would try to harm the Princess of the Sun, just as the red stallion was attempting. However, he had failed. The bullet quizzed past his target's head, simply flying through her weaving mane.
One second.
Screams emanated from the crowd as the shot continued to ring out in the stadium. Most of the guards had already leaped onto and in front of Celestia, attempting to protect her from any further harm. Meanwhile, other guards ran into the now dispersing, but still packed crowd, attempting to find the assailant. The red stallion turned around and stated to try running. He would have stayed hidden if ponies hadn't noticed the gleaming gun that was still on his hoof.
Two seconds.
More screams of fear came from ponies nearby the would-be assassin as they curved their path of escape away from him, the gun giving a clear giveaway to the searching guards. They began to yell at him stop, but their request fell on deaf ears. The stallion kept running, shoving ponies aside so as to clear a way for himself. The guards knew it was a risky shot to take, but they also knew that they were trained marksmen. They set their hooves in firing position, aimed at the red stallion.
Three seconds.
The still-screaming crowd had dispersed even more, eliminating the worry of hitting any civilians. The guards tracked the running stallion, who had begun to turn around in order to shoot the three guards to ensure his longevity. What he did not notice, however, were the two guards on the roof of the building that Celestia was now inside of with longer barreled guns, called rifles, who were loading a special bullet into their chambers. The rifles only had one barrel, but what it lacked in ammo capacity, it made up for in accuracy and power. These guards, called snipers, were the last stand. If anything got past them, it was game over.
Meanwhile, the three guards on the ground were all pulling back on a hammer to one of their barrels.
Four seconds.
The stallion was now upside down, attempting to both escape and shoot the guards at the same time. He brought his hoof across three hammers on the top of his hoof, going for a spread shot – otherwise known as a shotgun effect. It was too late for him, though. The guards had already fired their guns at the assailant, and the bullets were traveling at tremendous speeds towards him. Lucky for him, the guards were caught on a bad shot. Two of the shots hit the pavement, sending minute shards of concrete flying. However, the third caught him in the left hind leg, sending pain coursing throughout his entire body. He kept his aim, though, and released the hammers.
Five seconds.
The bullets spread as they sped out of the barrels, all three of them reaching their targets. The guard on the left of the stallion fell backwards as blood splashed from where his eye was, the bullet traveling through his eye and into his brain, where it bounced around due to the armored helmet being toughened against the bullet. The guard in the middle was hit in the upper chest, where blood was spraying out of to paint the ground red. It had pierced his heart and killed him instantly. The last guard, however, was only hit in his weaponed leg, rendering it useless.
Six seconds.
The red stallion landed on the ground, in pain from the wound to the leg, rendering him unable to get up. He shakily raised his armed hoof at the kneeling guard, wanting to finish him off. He still did not notice the snipers on the roof, who were taking aim at the stallion's head and pulling their hammers back, ready to strike.
Seven seconds.
The stallion struggled to raise his hoof to a hammer on his gun, shakily aiming it at the guard. The guard, however, looked up at the roof, anxiously waiting for the snipers to do their job. The red stallion also noticed what was going on a bit too late. He had only barely turned his head before the defining moment had come at last.
BANG!
Eight seconds.
The stallion's body hit the ground as blood spewed out of his forehead, assumed dead. The remaining guard began limping over to the body, so as to confirm that he was dead. The snipers on the roof fished out another bullet from their pouches, in case there were other assailants around.
Nine seconds.
The guard reached the body as the snipers quickly reloaded and put their eyes in line with their iron sights, quickly sweeping the area. The guard checked the pulse of the stallion to find that there was none, giving the A-OK to the snipers up top.
Ten seconds.
Ten seconds is all it takes for a nation to become united underneath one event.