Plenty of freshly minted scholars have made curious mention of the fact that, in a society which is roughly a third magic users, most everypony still chooses to walk, run, drive, or fly to their destinations. Teleportation magic is an almost unheard of talent, reserved for the most focused, most academic, or most powerful unicorns. Why then is such a seemingly useful magical discipline so under-utilized by the public at large?
The answer is two fold and rooted in precisely what teleportation entails.
Moving directly between two points in space without passing through the intervening distance is not - contrary to popular belief - one single, unified variety of spell work. There are actually multiple forms of teleportation, some more reliable and well understood than others.
Quantum Tunneling - whereby a unicorn rips themselves or their target into their composite atoms and tosses them through tiny worm-holes then reassembles them on the other side - is one of the easier methods, but also has one of the most spectacular failure states. A failed tunneling event rarely leaves even a red mist to vacuum up and bury.
Displacement Cloning is another option, but an unpopular one, since it entails the unicorn scanning a pony, then copying them at another location at the subatomic level while the original is destroyed. As you can imagine, dying to get to work is not how most ponies prefer to move about and this method has been illegal for use on any living being since its discovery.
The last, and most common, is Energy Stream Transmission. A unicorn converts matter directly into energy, then pushes a particle stream between two points which passes between all the intervening molecules, rather than intersecting them, and returns them to their base state at the other end. This has the unfortunate side effect of needing some fairly precise knowledge of where you’re pushing to, and also has a range limited both by the imagination of the user and the power they can draw on. Accidents tend to involve a pony’s body coming out of the teleport inside of something else, hence most teleporters have layer upon layer of arcane safety measure to force the spell to fail if the destination is unsafe.
Public use of teleportation is forbidden in many cities, if for no other reason than that it’s quite rude to appear out of nowhere in front of someone. This is not helped by the long, storied histories of those who ‘got it wrong’. That has buoyed attempts by legislators to ban the practice entirely (though to date, with very limited success).
One fact may have contributed more than any other to the rarity of teleportation in modern Equestrian society; most young unicorns are taught in school that the ancient Unicornian word for ‘botched teleport’ translates directly to ‘jam’.
-The Scholar
Teleporting with Princess Twilight was an experience, but not a terribly unpleasant one. Teleporting with a junkie - even one whose talent was teleportation and who was trying very, very hard not to discorporate me into a wet stain on a wall - was nothing short of terrifying. I’m glad my stomach was already empty before liftoff.
----
I’d thought I was dead for about the first five seconds we were in that ‘between’ space. It certainly felt like being dead, but without the pleasant bits. When sensation returned, my flesh was an indistinct creature sending signals from all different directions to my brain. One of my eyes felt like it was somewhere near one of my left hindlegs, and an ear was definitely on my stomach.
The wrenching feeling of being in a car accident from several directions at once followed a short drop out of midair. I landed on my back and skidded down a small incline to a stop against a concrete wall, barely having time to inhale before impact. A half second later, Hay Frost appeared in the same spot I had, about a meter up. She yelped and managed to get herself turned around in time to land mostly on her hooves, only stumbling a couple of steps.
A burning smell filled my nose, and I quickly lashed my tail until it stopped smoldering, then pulled myself up, straightened my coat, and pushed my hat back in place.
We’d appeared in the parking structure where Taxi’d stashed the cab. The car was a short distance away. In the stark white lights, it looked even worse than I remembered. I silently saluted our fallen comrade, then turned to the wall beside it. Most ponies would have dismissed the circle of raw dirt as some sort of discoloration on the concrete unless they knew what to look for.
“M’sorry about the r-rough landing,” Hay Frost muttered, rubbing one foreleg with the other. “I figgured you wanna get here wi-without bein’ in the ground.”
Drawing in a deep breath, I smiled at her in as genuine a way as one could with their mane smoking. “It’s fine. You did great, Miss Frost. You can port back if you want to, or you can stay here. It’s up to you.”
She glanced around the garage, then shook her head.
“Not leavin’,” she said. “M’nothing special, no how, but yer Dead Heart. Y-you bring back the sun…”
“In that case, wait there. I’m going to call some friends of mine. Diamond Dogs. I promise you they’re safe.”
‘Please be listening. Please be listening,’ I thought, trotting over to the wall of freshly dug dirt. ‘I’m gonna look real stupid if I went through all of this and they’ve buggered off for coffee.’
Reaching up, I tapped the wall and leaned close. “Commander Max! If you’re there, it’s time!”
“Ah! Is time?! Good!” came a bellowed reply.
I barely had time to back out of the way before the wall collapsed inward, sending a plume of dust into the garage. Hay Frost let out a terrified squeal and disappeared, reappearing twenty meters off with her tail tucked tightly between her rear legs. At least she hadn’t popped back inside the Castle.
As the dust cleared, I could see Max and a dozen heavily armed and armored Underdogs standing behind him. His belts of ammunition jangled jarringly against one another as he stepped out of the hole, followed closely by Bella, who gave me a fierce smile. I hoped it was a smile. It might have been mistaken for an offer to eat me alive, considering all those teeth.
I turned and called, “Frost! It’s okay! They’re my friends!”
“M...m’gonna s-stay here, th-thanks,” she stammered.
Max sniffed at the air, then jabbed a thumb at Frost. “This way you get past all the bitey things moving ground-level? She Aced like deck of cards!”
I put a hoof on Max’s chest and gave him a hard glare.
“I am aware,” I growled. “She got me here. You’ll show her some respect, Commander.”
Despite the absurd differences in our sizes, Max shrank a little, wrapping his tail against one of his ankles. I heard a soft pop of magic, then felt her step in close to my flank, peering cautiously around my side at the huge diamond dog. They studied each other for a second, and then Max slowly nodded.
“Max hears,” he mumbled.
“Good. Dogenes gave you your marching orders, but we need to make a change considering the situation. You have any tunnels that run under the Castle’s main garage?” I asked, dropping my hoof and turning to touch Frost’s shoulder, comfortingly. She was giving me a worryingly worshipful look.
He squinted at me, then nodded, one of his cock-eyed ears flopping against the side of his head. “Aye, there be one. It closed, but take us ten minutes to open. Where we come up? You make deal with she-bitch-demon?”
I dug out my brand new badge and held it up. Max studied it, and then his eyes almost bugged out of his skull. It occurred to me I didn’t know whether or not Max could read, but that fear turned out to be baseless.
“You new she-bitch-demon?!” he exclaimed, and there was some muttering from the dogs behind him. With a snap of his jaws, he silenced them. Hay Frost let out a raspy chuckle, but quickly covered it with a little cough as she pressed a bit more firmly against my side.
“S-sorry. That were funny…” she whispered.
I rubbed a hoof in a small circle on my temple and sat heavily. “Alright, Max, get your dogs digging out that tunnel. We’ve got to move all the noncombatants out of the Castle. While you’re at it, can you haul that cab back underground?”
“We...not ready for that many ponies permanent like,” he murmured, picking at one of his yellowed teeth with the end of one claw. “Got room for maybe a few tens of tens for a bit...”
“I don’t need you to take all of them. You have paths near the old ice cream factory and into the section of the city called ‘The Heights’?”
“Aye, we knows them. Farther than we usually goes, but there old dog tunnels. Might take a day to dig out.” He paused, then gave me a thoughtful look. “What out there?”
“Friends of mine who’ll give them shelter. Head to the ice cream factory first and tell a pony named Slip Stitch-”
“We knows of the mad cutter,” Max interjected. “He good, even if he brain full of bugs.”
“That simplifies things,” I replied, then added, “Tell Slip Stitch to use his machine to start fixing as many of the Castle’s unicorns as he can, then take him to the Heights. When you get there, you’ll probably catch some flak, but tell them I sent you and that you’re there to cure ‘Granny Glow’. They’ll know what you mean.”
Max cocked an ear in Bella’s direction. “You gets all that, Bella?” he asked.
The scarred female wagged her tail and slapped a fist across her breast. “Aye! Take ponies to mad cutter’s, take ponies to Heights, tell them Granny Glow to be cured!” Turning back down the tunnel, she darted away into darkness.
“Where’s she off to?” I asked.
Max started to reply, but then his ears perked and he stopped. As one, all of the dogs looked up at the ceiling.
“Wh-what’re they doing?” Hay Frost asked.
I started to ask Max just that, but he held up one digit, then sniffed at the air.
“The biting monsters be...moving,” Max murmured, licking his chops. “They go to attack. Have cannons what shoot sky-fire. We must go.”
“You can hear all that?” I asked.
“Aye. They coming in hot.” Swinging about, he made a gesture at the pack standing in the tunnel. “Underdogs!” he bellowed. “Open the way to the Castle! Dig! Fight! Guard! Bring back the sun!”
The rest of his pack made that curious salute of theirs, let out an ear-piercing howl, then leaped into the walls as easily as a pony might jump into a puddle of water. Max turned back to Hay Frost and I. “You want come with us?”
I slipped a foreleg around the girl’s neck and pulled her snugly against my side. “I’ve got a ride, thanks. Try to burrow into the northeast corner of the garage. I’ll make sure everypony is away from there and expecting you.”
“We get cab, then. Go. You soldiers need you!”
With that, he dropped onto all fours and burrowed straight down, leaving only a pile of lightly disturbed dirt.
I released Hay Frost and sat down, peeling off my hat so I could wipe sweat from the inner lining before plopping it back on.
“Well, that’s done,” I said, trying to mentally prepare myself for what was to come. “Miss Frost, you know that nice little bar on Majesty Street?”
She looked a bit confused. “M’not sure. Ye mean R-Rascal’s place? Has the stupid garden gnome behind the b-bar?”
“Yes. It’s a lovely place for a drink. I don’t suppose you could teleport us over there, away from this sci-fi horror double feature we’re about to have to go deal with? I’ll buy the first round.”
Hay Frost’s nose wrinkled, then she grinned, and put her forehead against my shoulder. “M’sorry, Mister Dead Heart. Can’t go that far. Mebbe ya better get a ‘porter what don’t like needles so much.”
“I think I’ll keep the one I have, thank you. You want to wait here? Max will be back for the hack, and he can take you with the rest of the civilians.”
Hay Frost didn’t even hesitate this time. “M’comin’ with you. We hafta go inside the garage, though. Th-the wards on the walls only lemme port around inside or leave.”
“That’s fine with me, Miss Frost. Just get us inside.”
She shut her eyes and began to concentrate in preparation for the jump. I followed suit, hoping it might minimize the agony if I knew it was coming.
It didn’t.
----
I came out of subspace - or whatever hideous half-existence there is when all of your atoms are deciding which order they want to be in - with a loud pop. I landed heavily on all fours, almost taking a knee. Whatever rust was on Hay Frost’s skills seemed to have come loose during the first trip, because I was barely six inches off the ground this time and the right way round. I still reeked of burnt fur, but I could chalk that up to turbulence.
Frost herself appeared out of the aether a couple of steps below me and yelped as she tried to catch her balance on the uneven footing. Before she could plummet to the bottom of the stairwell, I grabbed a mouthful of her tail. I instantly regretted it.
‘First order of business when we get everypony evacuated: brush my teeth. Second order of business: get Hay Frost a bath. Use force if necessary,’ I thought.
Once she had her hooves under her, I tried to get my bearings . I could hear shouts, screams, and the loud thump of explosions from somewhere above, but the strange acoustics made it difficult to gauge exactly how far away they might be. Still, that probably meant we were in one of the stairwells off the throne room which led to the garage.
“Miss Frost? I could use somepony to run a message downstairs. You remember the grumpy yellow mare with the two toned hair?” I asked.
She bobbed her head. “M’memories not that b-bad. She’s sc-scary, though.”
“Yes, she is, but I need you to find her. Tell her that the diamond dogs will be coming up through the floor in-”
“The northeast corner,” she murmured. “I heard. Y-you going to bring b-back the sun?”
“That’s right. Go on. I’ll make sure everypony gets out safely. I need to see what’s going on upstairs.”
Reaching out, she put a foreleg around my neck, and I let her pull herself against my chest.
“Y-yer the first pony in forever what didn’t w-want me to vanish, Mister Dead Heart,” she whispered. “Mama w-wanted me to disappear, so I did. That’s how I got my cutie-mark.” Lifting her head, she stared into my face with her Ace-poisoned eyes. “This city - even stupid, bad little fillies what like needles - needs you. Don’t d-die. I wanna see the s-sun again...”
She eased back a couple of steps. I opened my mouth to say something (I’ve not a clue what), but before I could, her horn flared and she blinked away. I stood there for a moment, staring at the burn mark she’d left on the concrete.
‘Move, Hard Boiled. Move, or she dies. There are thousands of innocents out there in the city you can’t save, but there are a few hundred in here that you can. You don’t have time to be overwhelmed. You’re on the clock.’
Turning to the stairs, I launched into a headlong gallop towards the throne room, my coat billowing out behind me.
----
“Gypsy, I’m back in the building! What’s going on up there?” I shouted into my radio.
It took her a second to answer, but when she did, she sounded out of breath.
“We’ve got incoming on all sides!” she hastily replied. “I managed to get most of the ponies off the walls before they hit us, but we lost a few!”
“What’s attacking us?!”
“I don’t know! They’ve been hitting my video feeds before they move in! They’re fast and they’re armed with P.A.C.T. issue weaponry! We’ve taken at least twelve lightning cannon blasts, but the doors are still up! Every hit is burning out another unicorn, though! We’re runnin’ out of horns up here!”
“I’ll be there in a minute!”
I reached the top of the stairs and slammed open the door, rushing out into a scene straight from a war movie. I was close to the stairs up to the Chief’s office and chose to hang back near one of the pillars, hoping not to be noticed until I could survey what exactly had happened in my absence.
The scents of smoke, fear, and frightened piss filled the room and a low, grey haze hung just below the File Cloud. Dozens of heavily armed ponies had taken up positions on the balconies above the throne room; shotguns, pistols, a few light machine guns, and even some more specialized weapons were leveled at the double doors, and a platoon of unicorns stood in loose formation in front of Telly’s console, their horns blazing with arcane power as they projected a dazzling field of spellwork across the building’s entrance.
Through the shield, I could see gaping holes in the doors. They were being propped up by the unicorns, but the strain was showing. Most were soaked in sweat, quivering with strain as they fought to maintain the shield against a hail of fire. Even as I watched, there was another muted bang, followed by a flash of light which tore at the front of the building, and a mare right near the front of the group let out a shriek of agony, collapsing on her side in a heap of spasming limbs. Another stallion who was standing on the sidelines quickly levitated her away from the action and took her place, facing the doors.
“Gypsy, I need you to get me a window or something! I need to see what’s out there!” I ordered.
“There’s no windows facing that side of the building!” she replied. “There’s a couple of arrow slits, but we sealed all of those!”
“Arg...fine, then! Where’s Telly?”
“I’m up here with Gypsy,” the radio pony answered. Her voice was ragged with exhaustion. “I plugged into a direct control port beside the File Cloud to see if I could boost my efficiency using the Cloud’s computing power. Talking to so many different ponies at once is wearing me out quicker than I thought it would, but we’re making it work. What do you need?”
“We’ve got an incoming rescue in about eight minutes, but we have to last that long. How are the unicorns?”
A rattling explosion shook the building as dust began to fall from the rafters.
Telly was quiet for a second, then answered, “They can probably hold up a bit longer than eight minutes, although retreating is going to be a mess. You sure these friends of yours are going to be on time?”
I covered my hat with a hoof and ducked back into hiding. “I am not sure of anything right now, but pretend I am and we’ll probably survive. What’s the status of the civilians in the garage?”
“Not good. We have most of the injured ready to move, but there are a few who were in critical condition before we decided to take them into a diamond dog tunnel. They’re scared. Precious is keeping them calm.”
“Did Hay Frost talk to Taxi?”
“Yep! The northeast section is clear.”
I breathed deep as another shell or spell of some kind hit the outer walls, rocking everypony on their hooves. Time to go pretend to be the Chief.
“Give me the P.A. in the throne room, Telly.”
“You’re on, Hardy. Go for it.”
Stepping out from behind the pillar, I marched into the open with my jaw firmly set. The cops on the balcony refocused their aims for a half second before they realized precisely who they were aiming at and quickly dropped their barrels back towards the door.
I shouted, “This is Hard Boiled!”
The sound was enough that it could probably be heard right through that shield. It might have been just a bit of wishful thinking, but the waves of fire pounding on the doors seemed to slacken briefly. Everypony not currently holding the shields together had their eyes on me as I strutted across the hall and into the middle of the unicorns, moving through them to the back of the group.
Tilting my head back, I yelled and my amplified voice rang through the building, “Officers of the Detrot Police Department! We’ve got attackers coming from all sides! Our rescue will be here in under ten minutes! Hold position on the doors! We’re going to retreat in an orderly fashion to the garage!”
One of the unicorns beside me flicked his eyes in my direction. I recognized Sang Froid, sweat running down his chest in great rivulets as he fought to hold his concentration together.
“I swear to Celestia, you better know what you’re doing, Hard Boiled,” he growled, but softly enough I doubted anypony else could hear him.
Offering up a quiet prayer that I did as well, I continued tossing out orders.
“One set of shields will fall back and form a wall across as much of the room as you can to provide cover, leaving an opening in the middle for the front line to get through, then the front line will fall back! Once the Biters are inside, the balconies on both sides will lay down suppressing fire! First balcony nearest the door will peel off first, then the next. Once your clip runs dry, you get behind the shield wall, reload and continue firing! When we reach the stairwell, we’re going to collapse it above us! Get ready!”
I turned around to face the doors, freed my trigger bit, and readied to kick it into my mouth. What good my six bullets might do against what was coming I couldn’t have told you, but the position in the middle of the unicorns had a unique advantage insofar as it looked like I was leading from the front while still being surrounded by ponies who could cover me with magic. A good leader and a dead idiot are only separated by who finds the most impressive place to stand while also not being shot.
Sweeping my coat out of the way, I raised my gun.
“First group, front five unicorns, on my mark, drop your shields and back up five meters! Re-establish and get ready for the rest! Three, two, one...mark!”
On my cue, the front line’s horns flashed and died as they pulled away from the damaged remnants of the doorway. Those unicorns who remained redoubled their efforts against the onslaught as their fellows filtered back through their ranks. One of the mares - who looked like she was too young to drink, much less fight a war - stopped long enough to shoot me a grateful look before raising her head and throwing her shield across the air in front of me.
“Next three ranks...get ready to fall back! The second you see the next row of shields go up, start moving! Mark!”
The group started moving again, pulling back from the entrance.
A crackle of brilliant energy snapped against the doorframe, sending vicious arcs of electricity creeping across the front rank of spell fields. Another stallion next to me collapsed, and I grabbed his collar in my teeth, dragging him back from the middle of the formation, then rejoining them. He was quickly replaced as the next rank fell back, throwing their shields around us again.
The air was becoming thin and saturated with power, but discomfort meant nothing when death was so very close.
“Mark!" I called again and, like a perfectly synchronized clockwork, the next group of unicorns let their shields down. “Balconies, fire at will!”
There were finally no shields across the main entrance and a much wider, but thinner field of shimmering magic across the front half of the room. This left a space for our enemies to get inside, but they wisely held back as the groups surrounding us began peppering the entrance with gunfire. The crack and snap of guns, the moans of fallen unicorns, and the shouts of encouragement as ponies quickly reloaded from piles or bandoliers of precious ammunition were making it hard to think. Thick, stinking smoke filled the air, making it difficult to see much beyond the shadowy entryway, but I could pick out shapes moving out there like a swarm of locusts.
Several small, smoking canisters of gas flew through the entrance, but they were quickly caught and flung back by blasts of telekinesis.
“Hardy,” Gypsy said, and I barely caught her words over the unfolding chaos. “I just noticed one of the sergeants isn’t where she’s supposed to be! I’m trying to find her!”
“Which one?” I asked, hastily scanning the fighters.
“Sergeant Tune Tale! She was at the briefing and she was supposed to be in the garage, but she’s not there!”
“What’s she look like?”
“Tall, muscular, pegasus, brown pelt, silver mane!”
My eyes roved over the combatants as both sides poured fire into the doorway. My lungs burned for clean air, and my vision was blurry, but I finally picked out a shape moving up from behind one of the grand pillars at the back of the room. Swiping my leg across my face, I felt ice start to form in my guts.
The pony in question was the mare sitting near the front of the conference room, hugging her shotgun and looking frightened throughout my explanation. Now, her expression was dazed and languid as she staggered out of the shade behind the throne dais. A dark green blanket was draped around her body. As she caught sight of me, a feral grin spread across her face, and she began to waddle a bit more quickly. It was definitely a waddle, as though she’d become suddenly heavily pregnant and her legs weren’t working correctly.
A sudden misstep caught the blanket under one of her back hooves, ripping it away.
I felt my trigger drop out of my teeth. Nopony else seemed to have noticed her approaching, but they could hardly be blamed for that in the smoke and terror.
Something was terribly, terribly wrong with Miss Tune Tale, other than the vacant, empty countenance. Her belly bulged out obscenely on either side of her, as though she’d swallowed about ten cannonballs, stretching the flesh of her stomach so thin it was nearly translucent. There was a black and roiling mass beneath the skin, like a hundred maddened pythons were trapped inside her and itching to escape.
Horror cost me a full three seconds, during which her waddle became a gallop towards the center of the unicorns maintaining the shields.
“On your six! On your six! Bring down Tune Tale! Bring down Tune Tale!” I shouted. My voice was still being projected over the P.A. system, but as I backed up I found myself hemmed in by the front rank of ponies.
I can’t blame them for hesitating. I would have, too, considering none of them were really soldiers and being told to shoot a friend is never an easy thing, even in the best circumstances. Unfortunately, that was what Tune Tale or whoever was controlling her was counting on.
Kicking my trigger-bit into my teeth, I leveled my barrel at the charging mare. Her pupils were huge and blood leaked from her tear ducts, streaking her cheeks. She was only meters away by then, and coming in fast. I hauled back on the firing mechanism and the Crusader kicked.
My first shot was a little low and only grazed her neck, not even slowing her advance for an instant. I adjusted my aim and had a moment’s realization exactly how lonely it felt without my friends there beside me, even if my fellow cops were on all sides. My gun kicked again, and that second round took Tune Tale in the face; there was a spray of viscera as my bullet punched through her cheek, but she didn’t stop.
Somepony on the balcony had finally realized what was going on and managed to lodge a round in her chest, but by then, it was too late; the mare’s wings spread, and she launched herself into the air, crashing muzzle first into the backmost group of unicorns. I threw myself to one side, bowling over the stallion nearest me and pulling my coat over the both of us in the hope the damage resistant spells woven into it might hold.
I held my breath and waited, listening to whinnying ponies, ricocheting bullets, and frightened shouts.
Everything went momentarily silent, or maybe my eardrums had been punctured. Gravity seemed go light for a second as I was bodily lifted and shoved a couple of meters, still clinging to the stallion below me. Something wet drenched my shoulders, soaking into my mane within seconds.
‘Dead? Am I dead? No, I’ve been dead before. My back hurts too much to be dead. Concussed? No. I can hear some things. Ah, there we go. That’ll be screaming.’
My addled brain finally caught up, and sound crashed back in. There were terrified screams, violent retching, gunfire, and agonized moans all mingling in a terrible symphony.
‘Get up! Get up, dammit! If you lie here, everypony dies! They’re coming in!’
Wrenching my tortured muscles into action, I fought my way upright. I was standing in a pile of scattered bodies. They all seemed to be in one piece, and few appeared badly damaged, but the smell coming off of them was enough to choke the Bull himself. It was a stink so putrid that if I hadn’t already chucked my lunch, I’d have started losing it right away. Worse, the vile sludge closely resembled what’d come out of Chief Iris Jade. Of Tune Tale herself, there was no sign but a few stray bits of brown pelt here and there.
A few of my unicorns were still on their hooves, staggering back and forth with sparking horns, and above us, the fire on the door had redoubled, but it would only be so long before our opponents figured out what’d happened and launched another gas of some kind.
“Shields!” I yelled. “Shields! Anypony with a horn who can still cast, get us a bubble!”
Sang Froid was lying nearby, slowly crawling away from the heap of unconscious, wounded, or slimed ponies. I launched myself at him, dragging him back to his hooves. His face and horn were splattered on one side with the disgusting goo. Forcing him around, I turned him towards the door. The rain of bullets from outside was gone, but that couldn’t mean anything good.
“Cast! Cast, you bastard!” I growled, inches from his face. “I need a bubble over the injured! Doesn’t have to be a big one!”
That woke him up, and his eyes centered on me; then he nodded firmly and raised his head. His horn let out a weak buzz, and then he flinched and clutched at his forehead. “I...I can’t! It’s like my magic’s being sucked away!”
A cold, ugly thought dropped into my consciousness with a blood-soaked splash.
‘Slime that a unicorn of Jade’s power couldn’t magic out of her body. Magically resistant slime. Magic that stops a pony from casting spells.’
My stomach did a quick pirouette inside my gut as I put the whole business together.
‘Oh. That’s not good.’
Heaving Sang Froid back from the line, I threw myself away from the doors, galloping for the nearest pillar as I bellowed, “Scratch that last order, Officers!! If you’re on your hooves, grab somepony who is still alive and carry them! We’re moving out! Head to the stairs, double time! Shields only if you can cast them! Balconies, fall back in time as soon as the throne room is clear!”
A few other ponies were getting themselves up as the balconies continued showering the doors with fire. I pulled the stallion I’d been protecting up, then turned and grabbed a groaning blue mare who’d caught most of the blast of foul liquid in the face. Hefting her onto my shoulders, I started making for the back of the building.
And that was when I saw my first Biter.
Some sixth sense made me glance over my shoulder as I hobbled towards safety, and that was all that saved my life. I caught the movement from the corner of one eye as something black as midnight swooped in through the door faster than any pegasus I’d ever seen besides Swift. The broad outlines of the monster were still equine, but somepony with a twisted vision seemed to have taken attributes from a dozen other animals and woven them into the horror’s genetics. Whereas poor Canyon had only been a blueprint, that was the final product.
The demon’s wings were huge, bony protrusions with only the barest fleshy membrane holding them together. They sprouted from a back laced with bulging, bulbous muscles and a spine that undulated in an unnaturally flexible fashion with the movement of its body. It wore something resembling armor, though much of it appeared fused into the beast’s flesh rather than strapped in place. Plates of crude metal were bolted through its neck and shoulders or clamped to its chest, held in place by woven braids of the monster’s own skin.
Its back legs were deformed, small, and bent at odd angles, but its forelegs were gigantic clutching limbs with several extra joints. Worst of all, its head: the creature’s skull was thickened bone, elongated like a wolf or bear, with a great biting maw so full of serrated teeth that it wouldn’t close entirely. A gibbering pink tongue dangled from one side of a muzzle caked with what looked very much like dried blood, and the light of a mad, animal fury blazed in its piercing red eyes.
I processed all of this in a matter of seconds, and those seconds cost a life.
The Biter swooped, wrapping those multi-jointed forelegs around one of the unicorns who were staggering weakly away from the front doors and hauling him into the air. It barely slowed despite a half dozen bullets tearing into its sides and the weight of a fully grown stallion. His frightened scream filled my ears, but it was cut off as the creature’s massive jaws locked around the back of his neck.
A splash of liquid rained down on my face and hat. Blood.
The bastard could have ended it immediately, but it seemed to be taking glee in the agonized struggles of its victim. Bullet after bullet slammed into the thing’s barrel, but they might as well have been a swarm of bees stinging a dragon. It did a quick loop and made for the broken doors, vanishing into the skies as quickly as it had appeared, its prey still squirming.
I felt the mare on my back coming awake and beginning to shift. I was beyond panic by then, but panic wouldn’t have saved my cargo, so it was enough to get me moving again.
“Hardy, we’ve got two dozen more uglies just outside, not including whoever is shooting at us!” Gypsy shouted in my ear. “They’re swarming!”
More officers were on their hooves after Tune Tale’s attack, and a few were even moving in my direction. A couple magical bubbles were popping up, containing far too small a number of ponies. Unfortunately, several more smoke grenades rocketed through the door and landed amongst the survivors, spewing great gouts of blinding smog. Within seconds, most of the ponies near the doors were lost to sight.
Sang Froid was at my side, an unconscious pony hanging across his back. “Hard Boiled! You got any more good ideas?!”
“I’m working on it, dammit!” I barked, then hefted my juju bag to my mouth. “Keep moving! Balconies, focus fire on anything that gets through!”
The gunners up above unloaded round after round, but the smoke was spreading faster than a pony could run. That was the moment the Biters chose to attack.
Even as the cloud began to billow up towards the roof, I heard a frightened shriek. Another quickly followed, then another, until a chorus of terrified howling rang through the building. A thick wave of blood rushed out of the cloaking fog and coated my forehooves, but I couldn’t make out whose it might be.
A flapping shadow appeared in the grey miasma, and on instinct I raised my gun and snapped off a shot as it began to dive. The beast let out a guttural snarl but peeled off, disappearing into the stinking cloud again.
“Sang, get her downstairs, then come back! I might need you,” I ordered, spitting my bit out. He bobbed his head and started down the steps with his cargo.
Howls of agony and ripping noises that would haunt my dreams echoed through the building. The gunners were focused on keeping the Biters from cutting off their escape even as more and more of the room was covered in the overpowering smoke. Blood and other substances were starting to pool and drip from the balconies in a steady rain.
“This is a general retreat! Head to your exits, quick as you can!” I called, then added more softly, “Telly, get your flank down here! We’re leaving!”
Reading my gun, I pulled the hammer back and chewed my bit. Another trio of unicorns appeared from within the cloud, one projecting a flickering bubble around the other two.
“Hardy...I think that was the last of the survivors from the door team,” Telly murmured. “I...Celestia, you don’t want to know what I can see. There’s another wave coming from outside.”
“No kidding! Haul tail!”
The moment’s hesitation that followed told me most of what I needed to know.
“I...I can’t make it to you.”
I snapped off a shot at a Biter who was trying to snag one of the ponies on the far balcony, and it tumbled backwards over the edge, catching itself on those deformed wings before swooping away into the encompassing vapor.
“What’re you saying, Telly?” I demanded.
“Somepony must have hit something in the elevator with a stray bullet It’s not...it’s not working...”
Gypsy’s voice broke in. “Hard Boiled, you need to go! Get your people to safety! Avante!”
“I’m not leaving her here!” I growled, backing a couple of steps down the stairs. The cloud of smoke had finally reached the rear of the room.
“I’ll take care of Telly, and then we’ll handle these bastards!”
“What do you mean, Gypsy?” Telly asked.
“You got that bucket of paint!”
“Y-yes?”
“Throw it at the roof! Destroy the control runes!”
“Wait, what?! No!” I exclaimed. “I’ve got a teleporter somewhere in here! I can get her!”
I waited, holding the juju bag to my ear. I could still hear a few whimpers and moans in the fog as well as the meaty ripping of flesh and the agonized cries of those who hadn’t quite managed to die.
I heard hoofsteps behind me and looked back to see Sang Froid standing a few meters down the stairs. Somewhere in the building, rumbling explosions were going off, followed by the sounds of falling rubble. I swallowed and backed away from the stairwell.
“Chief, we’ve collapsed the other entrances to the garage. This is the last one,” he murmured.
My knees were weak as I rested against the wall, closing my eyes. The pounding in my chest was so loud I felt certain one of the Biters would hear it.
“Telly...you can’t die up there. I’ve lost too many, already,” I whispered.
Gypsy’s voice cut in. “I said I'd take care of her! Ugh, he’s going to be melodramatic about this, isn’t he? Telly, they’re coming! Do it now!”
Before I could protest again, I heard a clang of metal far above. A falling paint can spiraled down from above and crashed onto the ground just a few meters in front of me. The shadow of a Biter fell over it for a moment, then batted it across the floor. As the creature looked up, our gazes locked with one another, and I thought I saw - for just an instant - real intelligence in those bloodshot eyes. It might even have been mixed with a hint of sadness. Then it was gone, and the creature’s lips peeled back in a hideous parody of a smile.
I backed away a couple of steps as it readied itself to pounce. Sang Froid’s horn was sparking violently, but he still couldn't cast. I raised my gun and kicked up my bit, knowing in my heart of hearts that I was about to die, possibly permanently.
The Biter leapt, and I started to haul back on my trigger.
That part of the brain which handles trajectories and distances had time to tell me I’d made a mistake aiming for the bastard’s center of mass instead of its open mouth. It was heavily armored, and even if a bullet could find the thing’s heart, it would still have a few seconds to pulp my fragile little body.
Whether it was the weight of trauma or exhaustion, I’ll never know, but in that instant I didn’t really want to see my own death again.
My gun bucked. I shut my eyes and waited for the end.
Of course, the universe is never that kind.
When, ten seconds later, I was not dead, I exhaled and felt hot breath in return. It smelled terrible. Cautiously, I peeled open one eyelid and found the Biter hanging, frozen in midair, six inches from the end of my nose. Its malformed limbs were raised to mince me, but the creature looked about as surprised as I felt. Its lower jaw flapped a little, spitting reeking gobs of half-chewed meat onto my face.
Feeling a tad lightheaded, I took a slow step back, nervously glancing back over my shoulder. Sang Froid was still there, paralyzed with fear, staring at the creature. I looked back, and a disjointed part of my mind demanded an immediate explanation for why I wasn’t watching my own intestines being chewed on.
‘Emergency observation one: you are not dead. Emergency observation two: the Biter is not moving. Emergency observation three…what is wrong with its tongue?’
The beast’s tongue. Strange. It looked like a sort of thin, white rope was pulled tight across the back of its throat, forcing its tongue to curl up in an unusual fashion. I eyed its forelegs and noticed more such strands holding them firmly, intractably in place like marionette strings. Suddenly, the monster was yanked backwards into the air and out of sight.
There was a crunch like a pair of bulldozers copulating on a bed of raw spaghetti, followed by a shower of black liquid. Several more grunts and yelps of alarm followed from different places within the room, punctuated with the sound of an industrial grinder being fed a load of corn-flakes and mayonnaise; it was enough set my teeth on edge. Another shadow drifted through my vision. It put me in rough mind of a squid’s tentacle, but the end was split into many smaller tendrils that flailed about, probing across the ground. I couldn’t make out any more details in the thick smoke, but I think my fragile mind was probably better off for it.
As quickly as it’d appeared, the unearthly limb retracted toward the ceiling.
“Hardy,” my juju bag whispered, “You’d best go. I don’t know how long I can keep this portal open without something bigger coming through.”
My legs wouldn’t move. Why wouldn’t they move? I needed them to move.
‘This is the part where you run away,’ my rational brain demanded. Fear had rooted me in place.
Wait.
No, not fear.
Fear doesn’t feel like somepony is giving you a very angry hug. I peered down at my legs. Dozens of translucent, veiny tendrils which led off into the smoke were wound around them tighter than rubber bands.
‘Oooh, okay. This is actually the part where you die. Gotcha. Well, I’m glad we cleared that up before the end.’
There was a flash of light, I was torn off my hooves, and a crushing, tortuous darkness wrapped me in its deathly embrace.