There exist tales of the Spirit of Fear. A tall, bipedal creature with no face, tendrils of darkness, and a suit so black that he blends in among the trees.

These tales still exist, although they are relegated to simply be fables to get children to behave. Even with the life-like statue of him in Canterlot, he is still seen as fiction.

The tales say he kidnaps ponies who walk through his woods, and eats them whole! The Princess herself says these tales are true! Yet, no matter what, you should never fear the name...

Slendermane.

The Wasteland: a place where all that is good and pure dies. Men may hold to ideals they find good, yet they can rarely ever meet them. Democracy, freedom, safety, all are just words to be thrown around by corrupt bureaucrats wanting to secure more power. A place where the hero is the villain, and the madmen are the heroes.

Equestria: the land of plenty, where ponies can go their entire lives without a single issue or problem. Where the good are told they thrive, and where ponies are told no evil survives. Freedom, safety, harmony, the ideals everything is supposed to meet. The heroes have time to throw parties, and the villains are never heard from.

Yet all it takes is one man to save both the realms. One man to cleanse the Wasteland, and one man to reveal the truth to the Equestrians.

The Courier.

This story is a sequel to Havoc: Godhood

My mortal life was like any other; live, eat, drink, sleep, and make sure the ever-looming fate of death doesn't get you earlier than it's supposed to. But I digress.

As anyone could guess (and know), my life would eventually meet its end at the hands of death, earlier than it was supposed to, in fact. But instead of Being whisked off into some afterlife as I expected, I was sent to a magical land, filled with colorful and talking ponies, among other species, who's personalities often featured great naivety and an amazing amount of gullibility.

I was also given many new powers as well. Powers in which, to the ponies' eyes, were very much godlike. Well, scratch that, they are godlike. As well as terrifying.

"Why would they find them terrifying?" you may ask, and I'll tell you this, would you like it if you saw thousands of people murdered in in a blink of an eye right in front of you? No? That's why my powers are terrifying. Because they kill more than they heal. They caused. . . havoc, if you will.

How did I cope with this new purpose of being a Goddess who thrived on the suffering of others? Well, by the time I'm writing this, I have gotten used to it a long time ago, probably about millions of years past. So instead, I'll start with when I broke out of that stone prison those ponies put me in. A lot of things had changed since I was imprisoned, and I was a little eager to find out what.

Oh, and don't worry, I'll also explain how I became a Goddess. That just comes a bit later.

Criticism on this story is welcomed here. I'd like to know of any mistakes and inconsistencies.

*This story is now cancelled, and is currently being rewritten as The Ancient Arcanist.