The morning was grey and overcast when the sun failed to shine on Manehatten. The deluge from the day before had made the seas surrounding Manehatten Island choppy and uneven. The air was damp and heavy, and huge puddles of water lay on the sides of the street and on the sidewalk.

The newspapers lay on damp doorsteps, with the front image being a picture of a grey earth pony with stubble lying on the ground with a strange deep hole in his head and in his side, stained a maroon color. The headline above it read:

FORENSICS EXPERT FOUND DEAD ON MANEHATTEN DOCKS WHILE INVESTIGATING NIGHT TERROR ATTACK.

As a few ponies came out of the buildings in the slow grey morning, they yawned and picked it up with a sinking feeling in their stomachs and read the rest of the article.

Yesterday, the head of forensics in the city, Case File, was found dead on the docks of Manehatten while hard at work investigating the recent attacks made by the Night Terror.

"It is with the deepest regret that I informed his family," said Count Rich Privilege yesterday. "He has always been a loyal part of this city, trying his hardest to protect the city he loves. But even more disconcerting is that the Night Terror has struck again--this time, in broad daylight. This is telling evidence that he wants to only hurt ponies at random. How soon will it be before he makes an all-out attack against Manehatten itself?"

For it is of noteworthy interest that the wounds on Case File's body match those inflicted by the Night Terror on previous attacks. And the reason for this particular attack is still murky, according to autopsy expert Dr. Brainstem, who was put to the tragic task of performing the research on his body at the request of Count Privilege himself. For Dr. Brainstem and Case File had been friends ever since Dr. Brainstem had moved to Manehatten, according to an interview with the distraught doctor.

"He... he was my close friend," Dr. Brainstem tearfully told reporters yesterday evening. "He and I would go and get dinner together after hard work days. We would laugh. Joke. We loved each other. And now... he's dead. I... I'll never see him again."

Detective work is still deep in unraveling the mystery of the Night Terror himself. Who is this mysterious terrorist, this cold-blooded killer out for blood?

With those news, and a cold, dark morning, the city of Manehatten was uneasy and anticipating even more bad news. All over the city, ponies looked up at the dark skies and were plunged into a cold, sinister fear. Fear that Count Privilege was right... that the Night Terror would declare war on the city.

Upon reading the news article in a small grimy side alley between a few brick buildings, Ironheart gritted his metal teeth so hard sparks flew out of his mouth and balled the paper into a tight wad. "Who does Count Privilege think he is?" he demanded of the paper indignantly. He set the ball to the tip of his hoof, and the tip of a flamethrower poked itself out and incinerated the paper. He tossed it aside after a moment, not wanting to set himself afire like the day before in the Ultraground.

He paced up and down the alley, covered in his deliberately-flammable black coating, thinking and thinking hard. How would things go now? Would he make an all-out attack on the city, with the way things were going now? Count Privilege was certainly asking for it. But that was something only done by terrorists without a shred of sanity left.

And how would the Mane Six respond to that? Would they try to stop him--if and when he did attack Manehatten? He had given them his journal, so they must understand what he was going through--right? They knew now that he was really Bright Mind, that despised, hated shadow of the past. So why shouldn't he continue with what he was doing?

His thoughts went to Dr. Brainstem. He was obviously going through a lot right now. He was depressed, and colorless. Should he go and cheer the doctor up? He had done the same for Bright Mind, all those years ago. So he needed to do the same to him now. He needed to let Dr. Brainstem know that there was one pony still there for him. Out of all the ponies that had worked with Bright Mind on Project 24, Dr. Brainstem was the only one that qualified as a friend.

Would the Mane Six agree with his logic? They had to, wouldn't they? He was doing what was right. It was better that a few bad ponies die than to allow them to continue to corrupt the natural order, the way life was supposed to be organized! The plainly obvious structure of How Society Ought To Be!

How was society supposed to be, then? It was supposed to be a world of life, and love, and order. The ponies that were low in station needed to be brought to an equal playing field to enjoy the full options and experiences of life. Like Bright Mind. And the ponies that were high in station... the ones that abused their privileges... needed to be brought lower.

The way society needed to be was to have everyone obey universal moral codes. For example, what if everyone obeyed the commandments regarding chastity? If everyone did, ponies would be a lot more honest. Marriages would be happier and completely certain of their partner's loyalty to each other. Ponies would live in a world where they didn't have to worry about abduction and rape, or infidelity, or harsh and dirty thoughts. Everyone would be safer.

Of course, half the movie industry would dry up overnight. Same with the porn industry. And the rap songs and the rock songs, and the incoherent whining in the news about promoting vice, degeneracy, whoredoms, and sodomy. Good. Let them all die. Let the forces of darkness wither and burn like the newspaper he had chucked to the side.

But Bright Mind! You can't take away my freedom of choice! I can choose to live in this awful state of stupidity and bad decisions! The gift of choice is something you can't take away! You need to learn that I want to live in this fallen state! And by not allowing me that option you're hurting meeee! Get out of our business! Nyaaa!

You say I take away the freedom of choice? I'm not. I'm delivering to you the consequences of your shallowness and short-sightedness. You can make your choice, but you can never, ever, ever choose the consequences. Besides, I have the freedom of choice too. I am choosing to hurt you. And if you ask me to stop that, then why should I obey you? You're simply making me give up my freedom of choice.

It's strange, isn't it? I ask you to stop your treacherous ways, and you snivel and whine that I'm forcing you and that's against your freedom of choice. But when I choose to force you to stop, then suddenly the freedom of choice gets distorted in your favor again and you force me to stop.

Or how about the laws about being honest? Ponies wouldn't need lockers, because you don't need to worry about having somepony else taking your stuff. Deals would be fair and ponies needn't be robbed of their bits in corrupt exchanges. The city of Las Pegasus would lose almost all of its revenue, because nopony wants to be cheated out of money. The ponies operating corrupt deals would recognize their greed and make reparations. Drugs? Gone. Corruption? Done away with.

Ironheart was fully aware of the fact that he needed to stoop to their level in order to stop their problems. But that was the point, wasn't it? Stoop down to their level, so you're close to the base of the root. Snip the plant out from the root. Pull the root out and kill the corrupt plant that was strangling the rest of the plants in the garden. Destroy crime at its root by using their own tactics against them. Make them get a taste of their own medicine. Corrupt deals. Murder. Mass destruction. Humiliation. Fear. Blood and fire turning their bodies red.

He would stop at nothing until dissension against good would be silenced. Every last traitorous soul would bow in his shadow. He cared not for glory. He cared not for what the world thought of him now. He didn't want their compliments, or their fear, or their honors or condemnation.

A splash on a shallow puddle nearby brought him out of his thoughts, and he pricked his metal ears up. Hurriedly, he went off to the side so nopony could see him in open light.

He turned his eyes inward and set his sight mode to the security camera footage all over the city. This way, he could monitor any and all activity in the city so he could respond to any problems in a moment's notice. It had taken a few weeks to hack into the city's main power grid and install himself with the same sights the security cameras had without all that unnecessary wiring and... cables. He had found a way to surpass the use of cables a long time before. He had so many advantages over everypony else, it was almost unfair.

Then again, life had been unfair to him before, hadn't it? Why was life never unfair in your advantage?

In the bees-view of security cameras set up all over the city, he swiped his mind over all of the tiny little squares in his vision. There was not much happening in most of them, but when he came to the third column, twelfth row, he enhanced the image mentally, and the square appeared bigger. This particular camera was set outside the back of a gemstore in lower Manehatten.

In it were three lank, raggedy ponies cornering a mare near the side of the darkened brick wall. One of them was wielding a knife in his teeth, and the others had feral glints in their eyes.

The Night Terror went back to his normal vision, and he was suddenly looking at the side of a dumpster in front of him. He narrowed his unnatural scarlet eyes. "Not on my watch," he swore darkly, and extended his metal wings with a loud chattering sound. The wings on the back lifted themselves up slightly and a slow whine emanated from it, and glowed red as the repulsors and engines in his wings powered to full capacity. He felt a slight rumble in his hooves as well, and they felt hot as the repulsors in his hooves got warmed up. Once he was sure the engines were at full power, he released the internal lock holding the thrust back with his mind, and he shot into the dark overcast sky with a blast of power.

The other two stallions did so accordingly. The mare with cherry red hair struggled hard against her captor's grip, but the two other stallions held on to her arms tightly and slammed her back into the brick wall. The back of the mare's head was flat against the brick.

"It's just this really hard morning wood, beautiful... it won't go away unless I do something about it," the lead stallion said, coming closer.

"Let's see...what do I have to work with here?" the stallion asked, leering in closer, admiring the underside of her. His eyes traveled to the space in between her legs, which was covered up suddenly by the mare's cherry red tail. "Oh, yes...this will work just fine." He then faced his friends holding her up. "Don't worry. You'll get a turn yourself once I've had my fill."

The other one took his knife out of his mouth. "Oh, don't...I like it when they scream." He gave a sinister grin.

The stallion in front of her lined himself up with her. The mare was breathing heavily through her nose, looking at the stallion in front of her with her eyes full of fear. He gave her a pair of half-lidded eyes and reached out a hoof to brush aside the tail covering her privates, when there came a swooping sound and a loud bump as something landed on the pavement.

Both the ponies holding her to the wall released her with sudden cries of pain and dropped to their knees. Protruding from their knees were nine-inch metal feathers, embedded into the bone.

He got knocked backward and skidded on the ground for a few feet before stopping against the wall. He stayed there for just a second before putting a hoof to his nose and wincing sharply. It had broken. He could feel something warm on his face, and when he took his hoof away he could see fresh blood. Twin streams of the liquid ran down his nostrils, forming a red 11 on his upper lip.

Looking ahead, he could see a dark, looming shape over his two other friends. He was talking very fast to the mare he had tried to force himself upon. Listening closely, he could make out what he was saying.

"Run. Run away from them and get to the police station. Once you get there, tell them that you were about to be raped, but something saved you--you don't know what, exactly. Describe your assaulters and leave, and stay cautious. I'll deal with them." He pointed at the two writhing shapes on the ground.

The mare bit her lip and nodded, then turned tail and ran in fear from the dark shape.

The Night Terror! he thought in a desperate state. He tried to get up and run away, but before he could a sharp BANG cracked through the air and he stumbled and fell, clutching his leg and screaming.

In the flash of an instant, the dark shape flew over to the injured pony and clamped a hoof over his mouth violently, hurting his face even more. He weakly gazed into a pair of bright, intense red eyes that were narrowed in intense hatred. "Scream, and you die," the silhouette said in a calm, almost conversational tone.

The pony was taking deep breaths through his nose, unable to move or scream. All he could do was pray his end would be quick.

"Let's see... what do I have to work with here?" the Night Terror asked casually, spreading the pony's thrashing legs.

The Night Terror grimaced at the sight, then shrugged and smiled. "Oh, yes... this'll work just fine." He jutted a short, jagged blade out of his hoof. "You didn't have the balls to go to the effort to get a girlfriend yourself. You instead thought you'd be fine forcing your own pleasure out of her. You didn't have the balls.

"And now you're going to live with that proof for the rest of your miserable life."

"Sir?" the secretary said, coming into the city police commissioner's office. "There's something I think you need to see."

"Not now, Flitter Gust!" snapped the irate commissioner. "I'm dealing with all of this paperwork!"

"There's something outside the station, sir," the secretary continued. "A present for you."

The police commissioner bolted out of his seat, right in front of Flitter Gust's face. "He what?!"

"I don't want to get any kind of present from that... that thing," he said with a shudder. "I'm not risking it."

Flitter Gust led him through the police office to the front door and opened it with a jingle of the bell above the door. The police commissioner stepped through the door fearfully. And he stopped and stared.

Tied to the lamp post in front of the police office were three injured ponies. A zip tie was around all three of their necks around the pole, tying them all together. They were struggling to stand on their weak legs, for in their knees were either long metal feathers or deep bloody wounds made by some abominable object. There were rags tied in between all three of their legs like diapers, which were soaked with blood.

Pinned straight to the chest of one with a safety pin was a bloody notecard. It read:

Please arrest me! The height of my romantic career was trying to rape one girl with two other dudes. I want to step it up a notch and get shared with my cellmates!

The police commissioner looked at the card. He then looked at the would-be rapists. He felt a bit of bile rise in the back of his throat, but he swallowed it with immense difficulty. "Get them off that pole," he told Flitter Gust.

"Dr. Brainstem?" Twilight asked, pushing open the door to Dr. Brainstem's dimly lit office at MIT. "Dr. Brainstem?" she called again, coming in. Behind Twilight were the six other girls. "We want to talk to you."

The girls had been looking for him the entire day. They had first tried to find him at the docks, where he was working before. Then they went to the Manehatten Institute of Technology and asked around the place for him. Nopony had seen him for the whole day. Finally, one helpful nurse had explained where his office was, and the girls and Spike had rushed over promptly.

Dr. Brainstem's back showed to them. He was hunched over at his table, his head down in his hooves, piles of unfinished work on the sides of his desk. He was thrown into an unnatural shadowy light. On the window opposite his office, the oncoming dusk was making the city-island turn into a landscape of shadows and silhouettes.

"Dr. Brainstem?" Rarity called melodiously, coming next to the distraught doctor and shaking his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Dr. Brainstem picked his head up slowly. His face was red and sagged pitifully. His last remaining bits of mane on his balding head were out of place and drooped. He turned to face Rarity. "Leave me alone," he mumbled.

Dr. Brainstem soured his expression. "You're not helping me. If you want to help me, leave me alone."

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" he bellowed, and the mares recoiled in shock. The behavior was so unlike his usual attached, scholarly tone that the change of it was even more disconcerting than the scary face he had on and the loud volume he had used. He took a few deep breaths. "Just--just don't bother, okay? Go away." He placed his face in his hooves. "I... I'm not..."

"Of course it's about Case File!" he snapped, making Twilight recoil again. "What else would it be about? I had to examine the body of my friend! Because I was forced to by that scum of Equestria, Count Privilege!" He took a few deep breaths. "And you ask me if I'm okay?" He slumped down again. "Don't you know how that feels like?" he whispered. "You don't know what it's like to lose somepony close to you, do you? And you can't do a thing about it?"

"Oh, there, there" Fluttershy cooed, coming behind him and rubbing his shoulders to try and relax his composure. "I know exactly how that feels like. I love the sick and hurt animals I have to bring in and make them feel better. But sometimes, every once in a blue moon... even though I've done everything I could to help them... they still pass away. And I feel awful about that. I feel my tummy get tight, and my throat closes up, and the space behind my eyes gets hot and wet. I..." She sniffled just thinking about it. "I don't want to see you get as hurt as I am."

Dr. Brainstem looked behind him at the dear shy pegasus pressing his shoulders tighter together. Then he let out an exhale and tapped his hoof on the table.

"Case File was brave," Twilight uttered. "If there's anypony that could have been a fit for a studious, hardworking pony like you...it was him."

Dr. Brainstem nodded. "I know...but saying those things about him won't bring him back," he said depressingly.

"It's better that we remember who he was and emulate what he wanted ta have us do," Applejack put in. "And he would have wanted us to finish the job he started."

Dr. Brainstem was silent as Fluttershy helped massage his shoulders. The physical therapy was obviously working, because he took a long, deep exhale through his puckered lips. "All right," he agreed finally. "I will be strong. I will...I'll be with him. Whether he's by my side or not, he'll always be a part of me."

Twilight breathed a breath of relief. "Thank you, doctor. We came here to actually talk with you about something we found out about the Night Terror."

Dr. Brainstem jerked his head to the side. "I don't want to hear anything more about the pony that killed my best friend," he muttered darkly.

"He was the one that sold guns ta the criminals that did kill 'im," Applejack said. "But he wan't involved in it at all! He didn't want ta have 'im killed! It was the griffons that took it upon themselves to target 'im. And when he found out about that, he went and killed the griffon that did it right in front of our eyes!"

"Wait, he sold the guns to the others?" Dr. Brainstem asked in shock. "Then that means..." He mused for just a second. "What does that mean? Why would he give powerful weapons to the ponies and griffons he's fighting against?"

"I think to give them a fighting chance--or to prove that even with the most advanced weapons on the face of the planet, he still couldn't be defeated."

Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and Applejack all looked at each other uneasily. Should they do it? Should they deliver the news to him and let him know what happened to Bright Mind? Nopony knew for certain, but they knew that the truth shouldn't be concealed for longer than necessary.

Finally, Rainbow Dash spoke. "Ironheart's the Night Terror. But do you know... where he came from?"

"He had to be created by somepony that wanted to create a machine of terror and destruction. But..." Rainbow looked back at Twilight, looking for confirmation.

Dr. Brainstem kept his gaze on her. "He had to be created? How do you know this? Did you meet him?" he asked her.

"Well.." Pinkie started. "We diiid kinda sorta got foalnapped, and Twilight and Rainbow got into a moral problem until the Night Terror himself showed up and helped break us out of the Ultraground."

"He's a guy that's trying his hardest to do what's right," Rainbow expounded. "He thinks we're the good guys, so he helps us and he's saved our lives before."

"And what about me?" Dr. Brainstem asked indignantly. "Am I an ally of his as well? Or am I just another one of his toys?"

"I think you are a friend," came a soft, soft voice, and the room dropped a few degrees. The girls immediately froze any activity they were doing.

Dr. Brainstem whirled around in fear. At the front of his office stood a bipedal creature blacker than the darkest midnight. His joints were angular and thin, and his scarlet red eyes stood out against his silhouette. Behind him was an open window, and the wind was blowing in behind him.

"AAAAAUGH!" Dr. Brainstem cried. He leaped back. "Who--how--how'd you get in here?"

Ironheart gave a jilt of his head at the open window for an answer. Then he walked slowly forward.

"Talk about what? How you're going to hunt me down?" Dr. Brainstem said in fear, shaking in the fetal position.

"I want to talk with you," Ironheart softly said, "about me. I want to help you any way I can."

Rarity almost moved forward, but Twilight stopped her with a hoof to the side. The look in her eyes seemed to say that this was something to be between only the two of them.

Dr. Brainstem gazed up at the nightmarish figure politely standing at parade rest a few feet in front of him. He slowly, slowly got to his hooves. "Who are you?" he asked in wonder.

"Project 24," Ironheart said abruptly. Dr. Brainstem gave a jolt like he'd been hit. "Out of all the ponies that worked on the project, there was one that stood out. Stood out in a way that made him a target for persecution."

Dr. Brainstem took shallow, fast breaths. "He...he what? B-but...but I saw his body! He was killed in that lab explosion!"

"His body was destroyed," Ironheart corrected. "His soul passed into another form." He went to all fours and went back into pony form. "This form, in fact."

For a long, long time, Dr. Brainstem didn't move. He just sat looking in fear at him with an apprehensive eye. He seemed shocked beyond all capability.

Ironheart nodded. He looked over the doctor's shoulder to observe the mares for just a second, like if he was confirming if they had read his journal or not. Upon not seeing them gasp, he turned his attention back to his old comrade.

Dr. Brainstem stood up and reached out a hoof to touch his face. He rubbed it up and down Ironheart's cheek, as if checking if he was actually real. "Is this truly what you wanted?"

"Isn't that what everyone wants?" Ironheart softly asked. "To not have anypony hurt them again? Invulnerability to everything the terrible world wants to throw at them?"

"How is this possible?" Dr. Brainstem asked, removing his hoof from Ironheart's cheek.

"The name of my past life implies the answer," he said in reply. "I was smarter than the rest of them. I had higher ambition. I wanted to become more than what flesh had to offer." Ironheart gave a flick of his hoof. "As opposed to the rest of them, whose only ambition is to attain the honors of an uncaring world."

"And what do you want, Bright Mind?" Dr. Brainstem asked quietly. "What is your goal in life? Your ambition? Your loves and cares?"

Ironheart seemed to think about that for just a little bit. He looked past Dr. Brainstem to see the girls, all huddled together. He then looked down at the doctor again. "I want to protect the world from those that would do it harm."

"An exterminator needs to harm the bugs in order for those that truly belong to live in peace," Ironheart said. "One of the ponies that's doing good in the world--one of the ponies that belong --is you, doctor. I still have not forgotten the small load you have taken off of my back. You are a good friend, and a good pony."

"Not as far as the rest of the world has fallen," Ironheart swiftly replied. "I am still better than the scum that infects the corners of the planet. My goal is making the planet safer for ponies like you."

"What about Case File?" Dr. Brainstem asked with a dirty glare. "What about him?"

Ironheart looked like he had been slapped in the face. "I--no! That wasn't me! That was because of griffons that decided to use what I had given them for an awful purpose! That was their choice, and they paid an awful consequence for it! I never wanted him dead either, Doctor! When I found out, I tracked down the griffon that did it and I avenged his death, Doctor! I avenged him!"

"Please," Ironheart almost begged, judging by the way his voice sounded. "Please believe me when I say I am on your side. I do the will of the side of light. And... I understand completely your anger, Doctor. Your pain. Your outrage to strike at the source of trouble. But I'm here, Doctor. I may not have been with you before, but... that's because I was afraid of you."

"I was afraid you... wouldn't accept me for the pony I had transformed into. For my journey into... this. I wasn't there before. I wasn't there for you to make me stronger, and I wish I could do something to make you feel strong as well. You loved me when nopony else would."

Ironheart extended his hoof. "I have not forgotten you, Doctor. There is still one pony in the world that wants to be your ally." His voice turned heartfelt. "Join with me. Please. Be my friend."

Dr. Brainstem looked at the metal hoof Ironheart was extending. He then looked at Ironheart's face. Then at his hoof again. Then at his face.

There was silence for just a moment, broken only by the lonely wind in the overcast sky that sounded like forlorn wolves.

"Are you out of your mind?" was what Dr. Brainstem finally demanded indignantly.

"You expect me to still see the pony I saw all those years ago? You expect me to see him, who's never reached out for friendship before, and who's only now reaching out for help, and to just roll along with no second thoughts? You think I can go back to the same way things were before?"

Ironheart reverted his gaze back to normal. "And what are you suggesting by this?" he asked without a trace of emotion.

Dr. Brainstem pointed at him. "That I will not associate myself with a pony like you! Even if that pony was somepony I helped in the past! You diverted from the right path, and I just can't follow you! Sometimes the rotten part of a fruit needs to be cut away, and you're the most rotten one here! I'm sorry, but I--I just can't follow you! This is just the consequence! This is the choice I'm making, which you can't take away from me!"

Ironheart took a step back. His face, once expressionless, now betrayed immense depression and loneliness. It was as if he was remembering something he had thought about earlier that day.

"I can't believe it," Dr. Brainstem was saying. "The pony I never thought would kill another has turned from the light."

"He's a lost soul, Twilight!" Dr. Brainstem said to her. "The same way he judges others is the same way he'll be judged now. Tell me, Twilight, would you join him?"

Ironheart took heavy breaths and avoided looking at the doctor. "I can't believe it," he murmured. "The one soul I thought would understand... has abandoned me at last."

"You abandoned yourself when you created this... abomination of nature," Dr. Brainstem told him with a hint of scolding in his voice.

Ironheart didn't answer. Instead, he turned back around and went back to the window. "Dark times are coming," he prophesied, more to himself than to Dr. Brainstem or Twilight. "Night shall fall over Manehatten. The clouds shall be illuminated by the soft red light of flames. Buildings shall be flattened. The ground shall be turned to ash."

"My journal, Twilight," Ironheart said. There was a heaviness in his voice, like he was tired of life itself and everything it could offer. "There is more in it than the musings of a fallen soul."

Twilight ran over to the open window, eager to see where he was going and what he was doing. From her vantage she could see a dark shape, already far away, flying high into the sky above the city's tall spires with a deep rumble of engines and a soft red glare of exhaust.

Who was right in what they were doing? Was Dr. Brainstem right in pushing him away? Was Ironheart right for seeking reparation?

What should have been done? Nopony knew. But they all knew now that the one pony that they assumed could not be hurt... now had a mortal blow struck to his iron heart.

The Pony Of Vengeance

by BradyBunch

Reunion