Crimson Dawn woke up to see his officers galloping about, trying to grab a hold on the situation. All of Tartarus seemed to have broken loose. He quickly suited up and raced to the map table, horribly donned armor clanking loudly as he went.
In the map room, Captain Midnight Shadow ordered practically everypony around. When he saw his senior officer come in, he gave a report on the morning’s activities.
“Sir, the Crystal Army has attacked in full force. They took us completely by surprise, taking the Tartarus Bridge up to Whirlpool Island before we knew what hit us. Scouts report that the western shore of the Hubson River is overrun, and we have pulled back on that side to the bridges. All ferries are shut down, but a sizable chunk of our supplies were stored in Greensville. We are currently working to get them across the harbor to our storehouse in Zucchini Park.”
“Any good news, Captain?”
“I’m afraid not, sir. Our archers at Withersburg Bridge can’t hold back the advance for more than an hour. We’ve already sent as many as we can spare.”
Crimson frowned. This was not how he was going to fight a war. Conventional tactics obviously didn’t work as well as he needed. It was time to bring Atlantean warfare into the picture. “Gather some explosives experts. If we can’t hold the Withersburg Bridge, neither can they.”
Midnight was taken aback. This went against most rules of Equestrian warfare, established when the war had first begun. “Sir, do you mean to... I mean, you want to- destroy the Withersburg Bridge? That goes against almost everything!”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures. You have your orders, Captain Shadow.”
The Unicorn rushed outside to carry out the unconventional means to acquire victory. He reached the barracks where the bomb technicians were, telling them they had less than an hour to crash the Withersburg Bridge into the cold water below. They had the same reaction he did, but galloped off to carry it out.
On the Equestrian side of the bridge, ammunition was becoming so low that the archers began to pick up arrows from their fallen comrades. Below the short, wooden archery towers, the infantry clashed their weapons. Spears jabbed through weak spots, swords cut into armor, and shields spit from heavy blows. Celestia’s forces were outnumbered by a factor of over ten to one, and still fought like there was no tomorrow. A constant flow of blood spilled from cuts and slices, spreading out onto the street and into the sewer system. Dead ponies littered the suspension bridge, and more kept following. The wailing cry of the wounded filled the air with pain.
The explosives experts reached the scene and nearly hurled from the sight. There were definitely more guts than glory in the area. Holding their breakfasts in, they reached the underside of the bridge and started unloading. The Pegasi from the group flew with their own packs to the middle of the center span to place bombs there. Meanwhile, the Unicorns and earth ponies set up on the west towers.
Forty-five minutes of enduring the sounds of battle later, the grounded technicians were ready to go. The Pegasi still had about ten minutes left, even at their fastest pace. Once the flyers came back from the center span, they all left for safer ground.
But they were almost too late. The Crystal Army had destroyed the Equestrian resistance and was marching over the bridge. Archery towers fell apart as they burned in flames only a Unicorn could summon.
“Run!” one yelled.
The ten ponies raced away from the Crystal ponies as fast as their tired legs could carry them. When they reached a safe distance, the Pegasus with the trigger pressed it. “Fire in the hole.”
Explosions rocked the Withersburg Bridge. Bomb after bomb set off and blew a sizable hole in either the midpoint or the lower section of the western towers. Eventually, the thinner cables couldn’t support the wildly shaking bridge, snapping as pieces of asphalt and concrete cut through them. The entire southwest tower up to the road was destroyed, with the northwest one losing most of its strength.
Crystal soldiers galloped to the nearest land, not caring which side of the water they were on. The result was complete chaos within Sombra’s army. As the entire weight of the western end of the Withersburg Bridge sat on the northwest tower, it began to bend towards its southern counterpart. The creaking and groaning of stressed steel could be heard from the other side of the Manehattan island. The center span of the bridge collapsed into the water, followed by a mess of thick steel cables, asphalt, and the bodies of fallen ponies. After a few minutes, the stress was too much on the northwest tower and it crashed into the Bricklyn Strait. The southwest tower hit first, sending up waves that flooded the piers. By the top of the hour, the entire west end of the Withersburg Bridge lay calmly in a pile of twisted metal and broken steel blocking the entire North Bay from the ocean.
The bomb experts rushed to Headquarters to tell Crimson Dawn of their success. When they got there, he told them it was heard from a mile away.
“You did fine, troops. But it’s only gonna get harder,” Crimson said, “because shit’s about to hit the fan.”