//------------------------------// // 238. The Loss of Faith - Part 19 // Story: Blaze the Pony Tale // by Wolven5 //------------------------------// The hangar room was packed with activity, earth ponies and pegasi scrambling about to tend to a craft sitting in the center of the unusually roomy building. With just a plain concrete floor and brass ribs holding up the roof of the curved ceiling, nopony observing from the outside would guess that it contained the latest airship Blueblood’s ace hardware experts had been constructing over the past few months. Of course, the workers’ pride in what they had built did not mean that they were prepared for what their boss had to say. “But sir, the Warhawk isn’t ready yet!” protested the lead engineer, “We only just got the injector engines working yesterday, and the fire control system isn’t in place… everything would have to be aimed manually!” “Well unfortunately, Canterlot is having a little bit of a bug infestation at the moment,” was Blueblood’s response to his senior builder’s complaints, “I need a crew, I’m captaining her right away.” The Warhawk class corvette was a small airship meant to be crewed by five ponies, the captain, a pilot, two gunners, and an operations officer. Barely large enough to be classified as a military vessel, it was only occupying about a fourth of the massive hangar. Like most of the airships manufactured by the prince's firm, it was longer than it was wide, but the gas balloon over the single-floored canopy was far different. Not only was it flatter than most seen on Equestria’s airships, the bag was also covered in a mysterious mesh made of a metallic material, the balloon itself barely visible from the outside. Two large propeller assemblies on the back were used to move the craft forward, in addition to four smaller mounts encased in brass rings on the sides for better control. The barrels of a pair of dorsal belt-fed crossbows poked out from the sides of the craft, each one contained in a rounded casemate topped with a glass dome. The entire hull assembly, painted a silver color, could be walked past in under a minute, but the compact design was exactly what Blueblood had wanted. “Why now?” asked the desperate pegasus engineer, Blueblood’s loyal crewponies coming over to help him. “Because the Warhawk is the fastest airship we’ve ever constructed,” he answered, “and its secret weapon is just what we need to handle the changelings.” “I know, it’s just… the defense mechanism might not work!” The prince, growing impatient, snatched a nearby soldier’s crossbow from him with his magic and fired it off at the balloon. As soon as the bolt hit the mesh, a flash of blue light engulfed the projectile, and it was snapped in half with a hiss of sparks. “It seems ready to me. Is she fueled and armed?” “Y-yes sir,” meekly came the reply. Blueblood nodded, and threw the crossbow to the ground carelessly, before moving to enter the craft, accompanied by two pegasus guards in thin, green flight uniforms, and his selected co-pilot. Deciding to help them, the lead engineer took a deep breath, and followed them into the craft to serve as the ship’s special weapons officer. Inside the vessel, Blueblood pushed his way through the cramped metal tube of a hallway connecting the crossbow battery turret housings to the main cockpit. Opening the hatch with his hoof, and his co-pilot soon behind him, he crawled into the frontal canopy and sat himself down at the control console, a nice large W-shaped steering control in front of him a pony could easily hang their hooves on to helm the vessel. The glass pane of the bridge, split into three sections nicely by the support beams, gave them a nice view of the engineers scrambling to load the remaining supplies into the tiny vessel. Blueblood’s copilot sat in the other swiveling chair next to him, and the earth pony started to flick various switches and levers inside. “Ignite the steam-injector engine,” ordered the prince, “and open the hangar doors. We’re heading out!” “Affirmative.” The other two ponies and their special weapons officer sat in the side control room, two pegasus guards took seats inside the turret assembly room, their windows giving them a more generous view angle from inside the armored casemate of the gun. Each officer on the side of the craft sat down in a seat and attached a pair of control sticks to their front hooves. As energy from the ignited steam engine reached the turrets, the crossbows built from heavy gunmetal came to life. Testing each gun, the pegasus ponies moved their hooves, manipulating the two control rods on each side of the gun. As they did, the turret assembly and the chair swiveled together, aiming the barrel of the crossbow around on the outside of the ship. The belt of ammo, a strip of paper with bolts embedded, was color-coded green, which would turn red when the turret was down to its last 100 rounds. In the cockpit, the co-pilot, her red mane getting in her eyes, struggled to activate the active-defense rune shield mesh on the balloon. In front of her on the boilerplate console was a magic rune in the shape of a blue arc, the amount of the arc filled with blue energy indicated just how much shield the balloon had left. Blueblood had designed the system himself after a sleepless night thanks to nightmare involving him going down with one of his own vessels… after a lucky shot managed to pierce his largest battleship’s entire balloon assembly. Any airship afloat could easily take several hits to its hull from even explosive rounds or the nastiest spells, but a good hit to the balloon would inevitably down the vessel. Most of the designs in use had compartmental gasbags inside the assembly, which prevented total loss of buoyancy, but it was still the weakness of any ship. In his genius, the prince had figured out a solution in the form of a metal alloy “net” that was magically welded to a rune system fed power from an energem kept hot and powered up by the ship’s compressed steam engine. Shield runes were typically used as private defense systems for wealthy nobles’ homes and castles, usually meant to guard against Equestria’s beasts or the rare weather accident. Unfortunately, balloons made poor objects to wrap a shield around thanks to their thin skins, and in testing a regular shield would wrap around the balloon and slowly burn it. To solve this, the metallic mesh contained the shield energy within each little hole between wires. Hopefully, it would be enough to keep the vessel’s balloon intact vs changeling blasts… Above them, the hangar doors began to grind open as massive clockwork gears strained to expose the sky above them. The room opened up and out like a chest as engineers cut the ropes holding the Warhawk in place. Once the doors had stopped, Blueblood pulled down on the control paddle, eager to get the ship into the air. Immediately, the Warhawk seemed to refuse his commands, instead deciding the best course of action was to shut down the steam engine. The lights in the canopy dimmed, the sad whine of the steam pumps giving out, and the slow clunking of the propellers stopping all joined together in a mocking reminder to Blueblood that yes, this was still a prototype. The prince let out a bit of an unpleasant word as his own vessel seemed to want to avoid obeying his orders, an act of mechanical subordination he would not be tolerating. "Gaaah, stupid..." he growled, baring his teeth, "come on!" The unicorn smacked the control console with his hoof, rattling it sharply. Something must have been knocked back into place with the blow, as the ship's engine reignited and the power supply returned to the console. Once more, the Warhawk purred to life, and this time, responded to Blueblood's pull on the controls perfectly. "There we go! She just needed some encouragement," he laughed to his copilot, hoping to excuse his behavior. All he got in return was an eye roll, but he didn't seem to mind. Once they were far enough above the hangar, Blueblood peered out the nearest window and looked down to see his Rarity, gazing up towards the ship. Towards him, and seeing her hooves held over her heart and the worry in her eyes, it emboldened the unicorn prince. For years since he was given his title, he had been treated in ways insincere, mocked behind his back, wooed by mares who sought his attentions for all the wrong reasons. But today… Today, I prove my worth not because of my aunt’s affections, Blueblood thought as he sighed and got back to his seat and flipped some switches, today… I prove it by protecting my country, and my love. Then aloud, he commanded, “Set course for the foot of Mount Canterhorn! We’re gonna give those bugs a surprise they’re never going to forget!” “AYE-AYE, SIR!!” responded the crew, and the Warhawk began crossing the Canterlot skies. "Steady, I am only saying that-" "No, don't do that! Every time - Every time! - you can't help but criticize the way I work and you try to get me to do things your way!" "It just seems a little discombobulating the way you have these meds arranged so haphazardly." "Ever hear of organized chaos?!" Fluttershy timidly watched the conversation like a ping-pong match. She had volunteered to assist in relief & aid and the medical teams had set up shop just inside the castle gates. Nurses, field-medics, and doctors were going to and fro, setting up hospital tents with cots, nursing stations supplied with meds and bandages and anything else that might become necessary in light of the coming battle, for the inevitable injured. Or fallen. Doctor Steady Hoof was getting into it with Doctor Miracle Cure, the Duchess of Health and Welfare on the Aristocratic Council. She was a unicorn mare of periwinkle blue with a salmon pink mane tied back in a high ponytail, her saffron yellow eyes narrowed out of tested patience behind her rectangular lensed glasses, and her doctor coat was tailored in a way to show her cutie-mark of a mortar and pestle shined over by three rays of light. Besides being among Equestria's most skilled and experienced medical officers, Miracle had once been Steady's mentor back when he attended medical school. Not that it mattered at all to the surgeon, who seemed to refuse his mentor’s every wish despite the heavy tension. “It would be helpful if you let me do things my own way,” he insisted, spreading out a set of transfusion tubes while preparing an iced batch of universal type blood packs for the likely incoming patients, “you’d be better off letting modern emergency medical officials working on the wounded of war. “Are you saying I’m out of date?” huffed the duchess indignantly. “Why don’t you ask your book on the four humors?” joked Steady Hoof in response. Fluttershy tried to whisper a word in edgewise, “Um, excuse me, but...” Ignoring her, Miracle shouted back at Steady Hoof, “You’re going to make the wounded terrified with that horrible scowl and bags of blood everywhere!” His answer was merely to shrug and continue to hang the bags of replacement bodily fluids on IV racks for preparation. Miracle Cure wasn’t too thrilled with him ignoring her, and she forced him to turn around with her magic. A surly doctor was not something she wanted to see, and she could not understand why her old student had gone from a bright smile under her training to someone so gruff. Ever since he left his training in medical school, Steady Hoof’s only goal was to not lose patients despite his gruff attitude and unorthodox medical strategy. The unicorn’s scary yet effective surgical methods had resulted in him being accused of being a necromancer on more than one occasion. Indeed, there were times when he brought back wounded mares and stallions from what his colleagues had clearly seen as still hearts and cold brain activity. But despite all of those times, Steady Hoof kept secret what he considered his greatest personal accomplishment, and also what made him scowl. Most of his surgeries were on something a bit… cruel. A stab, an arrow, a very debilitating disease that required the work of the skilled knife. But he had always believed that medicine was for the sick, and that he’d never see anything he couldn’t handle. But… There was that one horrific day he couldn’t forget. The EMT’s had brought before him that day a terrible case that broke his heart… a poor filly playing on the sidewalk had been crushed beneath a runaway carriage. Steady Hoof had rushed to fix the accident and demanded to know why the carriage had no driver, only to be informed there was one… but he wasn’t sober. The foal herself was put on a surgery table for him in the fluorescent-lit room, and the surgeon fresh out of medical school refused to describe what she looked like. All he could remember was vomiting, and perhaps losing a chunk of his soul as well to the scene. But he had a job to do... With his trusty scalpel in hoof, as he didn’t trust his own aura due to the “bobbing” effect it put on his knife, and twelve hours of surgery and healing magic, he had managed to put the young one back together again internally, even using the medically arcane arts to fashion a new segment of bone out of calcium pills and a hooful of stem cells from her innards. Within the day, he had done it, and the young mare was going to live! It was supposed to be the happiest day of his life, and his biggest success. Yet, when the filly started to breath again under her own strength, and her big eyes opened up… Steady did nothing but plainly state, “Excellent, you lived. Your parents will be thrilled, kiddo.” Miracle Cure could see the anger and hurt in her student’s eyes. He clearly only cared now about making sure others went home with a pulse, but it had soured his attitude about life. “What happened to you?” she demanded, hoping to get an answer. “Well duchess, perhaps surgery has changed me,” he responded, “you’d really hate the story, ma’am, so if you’d please move aside… I’d like to finish setting up this trauma ward on time.” “We are going to keep things neat and organized,” she insisted, nearly growling, “it’s what will keep our soldiers comfortable.” Steady Hoof growled for a second, and then, with a stomp of his hoof started screaming, “AND WHAT DO YOU KNOW?! THIS ISN’T A GAME OF HOSPITAL, NAG! STALLIONS ARE GOING TO DIE!!!” She fired back with her own screaming, “AT LEAST I’M TRYING TO MAKE THEIR LAST MOMENTS PEACEFUL, YOU MONSTER!” “Um, doctors?” Fluttershy quietly tried to step in. “SHUT UP!” they both yelled angrily, making the timid pegasus wince. "THAT IS ENOUGH! BOTH OF YOU!!" Miracle, Steady, and Fluttershy looked to see Princess Cadance giving a very-disapproving stink eye, "We need to get this relief & aid station up and ready ASAP and we don't need some petty foalish bickering between colleagues impeding our efforts. Doctor Steady Hoof, you're not wrong and there's no point denying it, good stallions are going to die. Regardless of whatever method we use to save them, we won't be able to save them all. "But it's because of the variety of medical skills we have here at our disposal that we will stand a greater chance of saving as many as we can, because that is the best we can hope for. I don't know nor care or even have time to understand whatever is going on between you two, but shove it aside and focus! If you can't agree on how to work together then each of you focus on something separate. Duchess Cure, prepare as many remedies and medicines as you can and Doctor Steady Hoof standby and be ready to perform surgery. Can you agree to that?!" Miracle and Steady shared a nervous look before giving a timid nod to the princess who nodded back before gesturing Fluttershy over. The yellow pegasus joined Cadance, watching as Steady Hoof and one of his nurses started setting up a tent for surgery while Miracle Cure spoke with some nurses and sent a couple to get some herbs from the Castle Gardens. "At least they're not fighting anymore," Fluttershy commented, relieved the tension had lessened over the R&A station, but hardly by much. Cadance's words had caused Fluttershy to realize what she herself had missed - This coming battle would indeed result in casualties and she was more than likely to watch several ponies die among these medics. A part of her wanted to be excused and not have to take part in something so dispiriting, but she noticed Cadance and saw a semblance of her own fears and worries on the princess's face. "Um, Cadance...?" Cadance looked to Fluttershy's worried look, and sighed, "I wish it hadn't come to this... but it's out of our hooves now. The worst part is, some of those changelings out there might not even want to fight! Some - At least a few! - have to be like Thorax and Elytra, peaceful, open to the prospect of making friends rather than... what their queen had wanted." "...Well, at least she's not around anymore," Fluttershy reminded Cadance. "Maybe some changelings might do the same as Thorax. Maybe some will leave their hive and want to make friends." "Well... no matter how this turns out... most Equestrians aren't going to be so open-minded to making friends with changelings," she moped, soaking up the shaded atmosphere, but when she looked up... her mouth fell open in awe! Fluttershy, the medical ponies, all looked up as well, at the flying innovation above them, an airship fitted for battle, bearing the crest of House Polaris and the logo of New Heights Avionics. The majesty of this mechanical marvel raised the spirits of the ponies just as it had raised their eyes, and many of them whooped and cheered as the airship passed them over, clearly flying off to aid in the coming battle. Seeing how her cousin- Nay, her brother and his new airship had raised morale, Cadance cracked a smile out of a mixture of pride and hope. Ever since her Bluey’s parents died, she had been there for him. She had been the big sister he’d never had but needed in those heartbreaking days, and he had been the little brother she’d always wanted and relied on in her moments where she’d doubted herself. She’d watched him grow up from a bright and imaginative colt into an eloquent yet innovative stallion that carried on even when he’d been surrounded by the wrong sorts yet never lost his way. She’d been so proud and happy to give him just the nudge he’d needed towards a pony who would love him for who he was and not what he had or appeared to be, and she was so grateful Rarity had made Blueblood happier than he had been in the years since his parents’ deaths. Bluey’s going to give it his all, Cadance realized to herself, which means I must do the same! Using her calming technique, Cadance then held out her clipboard towards Fluttershy, asking, “Fluttershy, would you mind assisting me directly? We’ve got work to do!” Seeing Cadance’s spirits had been restored, Fluttershy nervously accepted the clipboard with her wing but then she felt a familiar strength in herself. A kind of strength she’d always relied on whenever her little animal friends had needed her, but this time ponies were going to need her. She could not let them down. “Then we’d better get started,” Fluttershy smiled and Cadance smiled back before they carried on to finish the R& A station. The Royal Guard troops all stood in formation behind Prince Sombra and Duke Firestorm of Defense and Security, at the foot of Mount Canterhorn, as they eyed the enemy approaching, the changeling threat now only a few miles off. Despite the distance, they could hear the bugs, the awful buzzing, the frightful hissing, the hybrids growling and snarling, the larger ones’ every booming step. Sombra raised a telescope with crystal lenses (he made it himself) to get a better look. He saw the hybrids resembled manticores, minotaurs, and there were the three Ursa Minor-sized Cyclops hybrids. The rest of the invading army was regular changelings, most of them clad in that metallic blue armor with the helmets resembling stag beetle jaws, most of them carried spears tipped with spearheads that resembled barbed stingers, shields shaped like black beetles, some were even armed with bows and quivers. But it was the several that carried those glowing green orbs that Thorax had explained were Bug Bombs. Those wretched explosive devices were filled with a powerful nerve toxin designed to neutralize delicious victims to be made into dishes of love for the changelings to feed on at their own leisure. But anything caught dead center in the explosions would die from an all-too-sudden overdose of the poison as it wreaked havoc on their nervous systems. Sombra also noticed the changeling soldiers appeared to be giving the hybrids wide berths, as though they were wary of these abominable amalgamations. Then he remembered that the Changeling Hive Mind was not as effective in controlling the hybrids as it was on the regular changelings. That could prove useful… Sombra considered when he heard a throat clearing. He turned to look at Firestorm, a respected General of the Equestrian Armed Forces. His coat was fiery orange while his mane was a burnt brown, his eyes blue like the most intense flame, his cutie-mark was a fireball striking a storm cloud with lightning bolts coming out of it. He wore armor and helm with armored visor open to reveal his face, and strapped to either side of his barrel was a sheathed sword. But his most obvious trait was the mystech prosthetic foreleg and talons that had replaced his right foreleg years ago when he personally led a platoon to repel a marauding band of griffons attacking Baltimare. Firestorm had crossed swords with the leader and it seemed he was done for when the feathery fiend had lopped off Firestorm’s foreleg. But Firestorm came out on top by levitating his sword when the griffon hadn’t been looking and impaling it right between the griffon’s wings and literally nailing him to the ground. Unfortunately, they had been unable to save Firestorm’s foreleg, and so he opted for a prosthetic, and demanded it resemble a griffon’s foreleg, mastering the dexterous and useful talons that came with it. While it had seemed unconventional for a Duke of such political interest to put himself on the line as he did, Firestorm had shrugged off all those concerns and opinions, stating it would be hypocritical of his position not to be willing to do the same as even the lowest ranking guard in defending Equestria with his life. Firestorm’s heroics had earned him true respect, on the political battlefield as well as the real deal, and that he wasn’t just another stuffy politician full of hot air. “Your Majesty, awaiting your command,” Firestorm saluted with his talons, and the soldiers all began to follow suit in a domino effect until every stallion there was holding a hoof to their foreheads and looking to Prince Sombra. He looked upon these stalwart soldiers, some standing as unyielding as stone, and others with eyes filling up with dread, and Sombra understood. This was not going to be some training exercise, friendly sparring- No. This was going to be a real battle, a battle to protect the seat of Equestrian power, the battle to protect their fellow pony, their monarchs. But most importantly, a battle to protect those they love. How ironic it was their love for their friends and family that drew these pony-shaped creepy-crawlies and their weapon-ized monsters like a moth to the flame. And what a flame it will be… Sombra thought as his horn lit up. The soldiers watched in awe as their Prince’s burning red aura lit up his royal wares, crown, and cape, burning them away to reveal a very familiar ensemble. Around his neck and chest was Sombra’s metallic armor, strapped to his forelegs his hoof boots, and his crown resembled the one he used to wear when he was a tyrant. His royal cape was replaced with a cobalt blue cape of chainmail with a mantle of wolf fur around his shoulders and slips in the mail for his wings to fit through. He stamped his hoof and erupting from the ground next to it was a thorn of black crystal as long as he was tall. He willed it to take on a new shape, and its texture took on a liquid state as it rippled and formed into Sombra’s old Scythe! He then conjured a round shield of shiny black edged with metal rays of gold, the overall likeness of a solar eclipse, and finally upon Sombra’s wings he conjured a pair of Wing-Blayds, each adding an extra foot of length to his wing tips in razor sharp steel! For the hay of it, he even added a metal curved blade strapped to the end of his lion-like tail. Every guards pony looked in awe as their prince turned to face them, his face stoic yet bold, his armor and weapons glinting in the sunlight, his horn alit with mana behaving like fire, and overall appearing a perfect example of a god of war while giving off an aura of duty and honor. “STAL-YUHHHHNSS!!!” Sombra roared as he began to pace back and forth before his troops, his black mane and his tail making him appear like a lion. “The enemy approaches! PREPARE YOURSELVES! For battle! For glory! For the pestilent ticks that dare come and threaten your neighbors, your friends, your families, your children! Earth Ponies! Stand your ground and don’t give an inch! Pegasi! Soar like eagles and strike like lightning! Unicorns! Conserve your mana, no spell can go wasted, and do not launch your Magic Arrows until you see the facets in their eyes!” Sombra’s words had the intended effect as the soldiers all roared out as the soldiers of the frontline stamped their hooves in rhythm, above them were several pegasus guards standing on small clouds, armed with bows and large containers chocked with arrows, several unicorn battle-mages had their spells and weapons ready and shivering with anticipation. Sombra raised his scythe high to do the same for his soldiers’ morale. The sight of him, tall, powerful, armed, his body rippling with pure muscle, a sight to behold so awe-inspiring that it would make any foe think twice, if not turn tail and run to live another day. He reared up, flailing his forelegs like a warhorse, his shout rivaling the ferocity of a dragon’s roar that the soldiers let out their own battle cries in response as they formed rank and file. Soon the frontline was a wall of shields and raised spears held in place by the might of the strongest earth ponies, the pegasi above had their bows raised and arrows nocked, the unicorns whispered their spells and ignited the Shield Cores that released pillars of light skyward like fountains of power before cascading down into dome-shaped barriers, protecting any and all stallions standing within the barriers’ radiuses. “HOLD YOUR POSITION!” Sombra ordered, amplifying his voice to make sure every soldier heard his words, and he turned to face the changelings still coming. By now, the distance between them was no more than half a mile, and the changeling army had halted… as an old chariot was pulled forward… by two earth ponies! Their eyes glazed and giving off a faint green glow, showing they were not in their right minds! And in the chariot was Thorn, sneering at the “welcoming committee” and walking up next to him was a tall and hulking changeling-minotaur! It wore no armor because it didn’t need any, for its exoskeleton more than sufficed. Over every muscle was a thick and strong plate of glossy chitin, stingers extending from the back of both the hybrid’s wrists as he grasped a wicked-looking doubled-headed battle-axe with jagged edges, and upon his head were a pair of fearsome longhorns, each tip dripping with some kind of oily green liquid. Snorting, the changeling-minotaur looked to Commander Thorn, whose gaze was fixed upon Sombra and his army behind him. “Once their army is crushed, the city and every pony in it will be ours for the taking… Kill them all.” The hybrid nodded before releasing a loud and bellowing roar, raising his axe, and the changelings all hissed and snarled before the first wave charged forward! Sombra and his army held their ground in the face of the quickly approaching horde… when Sombra waved his scythe forward… and a bolt of lightning flew out of the blinding radiance of the sun high, and struck right in the middle of the wave! Dozens of changelings and hybrids were incinerated, and the Equestrian troops cheered to see the Wonderbolts! Spitfire, with Rainbow Dash, Soarin, Thunderlane, Fleetfoot, and Silver Lining led the squadrons, several `Bolts towing storm clouds with an assisting Wonderbolt providing the kick to launch lightning bolts to rain down on the enemy. Others had come armed with bows and arrows, or were dropping explosives of Blast Powder, shrapnel, and flints charmed to ignite sparks via impact. Death rained from above as more explosions, lighting bolts, and arrows came down, quickly killing over a fourth of the first wave. The changeling-minotaur didn’t panic and bellowed, “AERIAL SWARMS! TAKE TO THE AIR!!!” The so-named Aerial Swarms of changeling soldiers, who were specially trained for aerial combat, and changeling-manticores took flight to deal with their airborne enemies the rest remained on the ground as dozens shot crossbows with stinger-like bolts. The `Bolts didn’t hesitate, as the combatants reached to their barrels and armed their War Talons, special horseshoes designed with talon-like blades for direct combat. The airborne combatants on both sides quickly clashed, and before long bodies began to drop from high up. But even as this new skyward battled stormed on, the enemy’s wave continued to charge forward, and Sombra looked to Firestorm standing at his side, “Are you with me?” Firestorm met his gaze and smirked, “To the death.” Sombra smirked back before he looked onward again and then he roared: “FOR EQUESTRIA! AND FOR MIDNIIIIIGGGGHHHT!!!!” He led the charge, as the frontlines followed, all shouting similar words, galloping side by side, brothers in arms, their prince spearheading the formation towards the enemies’ haphazard wall. The ground thundered as the Equestrian army’s hoof beats were many, but their hearts beat as one. The changeling horde buzzed and galloped, their weapons raised, to which the Equestrians responded as the frontline lowered their spears as they charged to bridge the gap between them and the enemy. Sombra’s horn blazed again as an armored visor conjured around his face, dulling the sun’s harsh rays but leaving his vision clear, and Firestorm lit up his horn with telekinetic aura to draw his swords from his sides and carry them with his mental grip. And as the distance between the two armies lessened, for a fleeting moment, it was as if time slowed. There could be no hesitation. There was no room for faint of heart. The opposing side would show no quarter. There would be no mercy. And then they clashed in an explosion of metal, blood, and chaos.