//------------------------------//
// Final Words 
// Story: A War 
// by Comma Typer 
//------------------------------//

The two mares hopped out of the train, dashed out of the station, and landed on Old Villa soil.
The grass was browning, some blades even gray. A few public gardeners tended to the dying trees, their crumbling leaves falling every half an hour or so. Carriages pulling wagons of dead leaves whizzed by.
The whole scenery was that of a decaying town. Some factories were here, and some shops were open, but, in a morning so early the sun was not out yet, only public workers were up and about. Houses and stores had their windows shut, their front yards home to not much other than withering grass and fences in need of repair. Over there, near the intersection, was a collection of garbage cans and thrash bins where a few more ponies in green uniform were scavenging for recyclable materials—smiles appeared on their faces whenever they found a plastic bottle which they then lobbed into one of their bags.
The only thing that informed ponies of this town's name being, yes, Old Villa was a sign by the main road with those two words painted on it and nothing more.
Puree shivered in the cold.
The stranger laughed. "This is why I wear cloaks. Warm, fuzzy, and hides your identity."
She trotted on, staying away from the sidewalks and instead traveling on the back yards of homes, jumping over fences or going through holes and gaps wherever they were available.
Puree followed her, tiphoofing and moving quietly, too.
Heard the snores of various ponies inside one house.
Heard nothing in the next.
"Where are we going?" Puree whispered right after they got over another fence.
The stranger winced. "You're a curious pony, aren't you? Just follow me."
And the two went on, protecting themselves from the workers on the streets.



Reeked of smoke. Rang with the storm of clatters and buzzes and crashes.
Ponies occupied, working with power tools in a big open room cooled by a dozen industrial fans.
The storm echoing, ringing in their ears.
By their sides, groups of completed weapons: lances, bows, arrows, crossbows, cannons, grenades.
Suffering under the smoke, under the storm.
Walking past rows of them, three ponies. Two of them talking, Puree seeing and hearing.
"Will you show me the final result now?" the stranger asked the other pony.
The white, tall stallion nodded, his dirty blonde hair wavering. "Yes, ma'am."
That white unicorn turned right and opened the door.
Ushered the two mares inside.
Went in the room lit up by two lanterns.
Locked the room with ten locks and, for good measure, taped the locks together.
Muffled and muted was the storm of work outside.
Puree glanced at him. "Do I know you?"
He examined her face, but shook his head. "No, I do not, but you look rustic. 'Charmingly rustic', as a friend of mine used to say before his death."
Puree held a hoof to her cheek. "Oh...I'm so sorry."
The stranger tapped a hoof on the table. "Less talking, more working, so sit down."
All of them sat down on stools at the table.
On the table itself was a briefcase.
The stranger grinned. "This is it, then, Blueblood?"
Blueblood nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I don't know how you managed to get bomb experts here, but this is what we came up with."
The stranger snapped it open.
Inside was a deactivated timer, numerous colored wires and colored buttons.
"And emergency defusal instructions at hoof in a separate briefcase?"
He nodded.
"And nine identical dummy bombs?"
He nodded again.
"You made sure that you also made two back-up bombs for extreme situations?"
Nodded once more.
"Good. My visit has not been a waste, although...due to a change of plans, I'll have to take this one to an outside associate. She's at the border and she doesn't know that Sombra is planning a surprise attack on her home. Keeping her alive is essential."
Blueblood nodded yet again, watching her close the bomb then levitate it. "Yes, ma'am. Do you need anything else?"
The stranger stood up. "Only that you don't speak a word of this to anyone else other than me."
He nodded one last time. "I will keep my mouth shut as you wish, ma'am...but, if I may ask a question—"
"Make it quick."
Blueblood shivered, then looked at Puree. "Why is she here?"
"She is the latest step in the plan," the stranger said. "Nothing out of the ordinary for me."
Puree quivered and mouthed a "What?!" at her.
The stranger smiled. "Ah, classic me. Sometimes, I forget to tell them that they're part of my plan. When you have to keep track of so many things in your head, you slip up one in a million times. I try to hit the 999,999 other times in order—whoops! There's me going on other topics—we really have to go!"
She pulled up Puree with her magic, unlocked the door, and trotted out of the room with her.
Leaving Blueblood alone inside.



Puree squished her face at the train window, contemplating the murky landscape before her, of thin white outlines sketching out hills and mountains.
"Lovely night, isn't it?" the stranger said, sitting beside her.
Inside this train carriage of bright lights, only these two were present. The great majority of seats were vacant, giving them a wide albeit rocky view of the landscape through the other side.
"But, wh-where are we going next?" Puree asked
The stranger smiled. "A new friend of mine."
She laughed.
Scaring Puree off a bit as could be seen by her scooting away from her.
The stranger's laughter trailed off, and she breathed in. "Well...I'll keep it at that."



Under the night, they were alone in the desolate desert.
Not of sand, not of dirt, but of hard gray ground.
Wilting trees, scorched weeds—even these were sparser than last time.
Puree whimpered, taking every step with a shiver in her legs. "N-No! I-I don't want to go there! Please! H-How could you be friends with them?!"
The stranger laughed yet again.
Her laugh reverberating through the wasteland.
"Let me tell you something, Pear Puree," the stranger began. "When you make plans of this scale, you have to be sure that everyone involved is on board—either by pleasing them or by threatening them. I usually take the route of threats, but I find the value of hitting their good spots once in a while, making them smile when they have no idea what I'm really doing."
Puree gulped.
Saw dots shimmer in the dark sky, shimmering in the moonlight.
"And, if we're talking about working for the good of Equestria," the stranger continued, "you'll do some unconventional things. Granted, it may look weird to you at first, but I have it all planned out—and, if it doesn't work?"
Puree heard the buzzing sounds.
Getting closer.
"I have Plan B."
The changelings landed on the ground, surrounding them in a circle.
Puree screamed and hugged the stranger. "What have you gotten us into?! Are you insane?!"
"She is not insane," a voice announced.
Puree turned to the one who spoke.
And screamed some more at the sight of Chrysalis towering over her changeling slaves.
"She is the pony responsible for saving Pharynx from her own," Chrysalis said. "Not only that, she also brought a certain turncoat back to the hive."
She hissed.
"What makes it even better is that she works for us now. How ironic, isn't it?"
Steps closer to her.
Face against hers, snout touching snout.
Her green eyes against hers.
"That makes it even between me and her," Chrysalis said, smooth yet vile. "A traitor for a traitor, a betrayer for a betrayer."
Puree kept shuddering, feeling her knees about to buckle in.
"You don't need to scare her too much, Chrysalis," the stranger said without turning her back. "I only brought her with me to intimidate her."
Puree took a step back.
Heard the howls and hisses of the changelings behind her.
She clanged her teeth, afraid.
"In that case," Chrysalis resumed, facing the stranger, "you wrote that you had something important for me."
The cloaked pony nodded and brought out two suitcases.
Two changelings swooped in, grabbed them, and opened the bomb and the manual case.
They glared at her.
"Chrysalis?" the stranger said, motioning a hoof towards the bomb. "This is, magically speaking, a fission bomb."
The changeling queen cocked her head. "What does that mean? Do I get to use it?"
"It is a very dangerous bomb," the stranger replied, glaring at the changeling with the said weapon.
The changeling wore a sheepish smile and carefully placed the suitcase down on the ground.
"When it goes off, it would be enough to level your hive three times over."
"There is no catch, then?" Chrysalis asked.
The stranger smiled. "There is a catch. Do not use it against Equestria."
"What shall I use it for?" she prodded. "There is no other target to fire it on."
"Not yet," the stranger answered.
"Oh?"
Chrysalis approached the stranger.
Puree took a step forward.
A couple of changelings jumped in and growled at her.
"Eek!"
The stranger retained her smile in spite of the overbearing presence of the queen before her. "My sources tell me that Sombra plans to make a surprise attack on Equestria from the South-east via mass teleportation of a good portion of his forces. Judging from the general area of the teleportation's destination, he will encounter you and, knowing him, I have no reason to doubt that he will not stop to think about destroying you and enslaving your changelings along the way."
Chrysalis smiled back and picked up the bomb. "You're a good pony, aren't you? But, you haven't found a way of stopping it altogether?"
"I am only one pony, after all," the stranger said. "You should ask that question to the Equestrian Guard, not me."
Chrysalis moaned. "I shall settle for this. However, it is more than enough for us."
The stranger then picked up the other suitcase, the one with the manual. "And, don't forget this one. The bomb's on a short timer before it explodes, so you should read up on the manual and teach it to a few of your own."
Chrysalis patted the cloaked pony on the head, receiving the other suitcase. "I wish you were born a changeling. It is sad that a part of your intellect still stubbornly holds on to a love for Equestria."
"It's a love most Equestrians don't understand these days," the stranger said.
Chrysalis chuckled. "Tough love, hm?"
"Tough love, it is."
The stranger checked her watch on her hoof.
Faced Puree. "We're done here. We have to catch one of the next two trains to Chocstown."
The circle of changelings then gave way to the two mares hurrying out.
Into the distance under the night sky.
On hard, desolate ground.



They alighted on the boarding platform of Chocstown Train Station.
The terminal was hollow. Most of the benches had no ponies waiting for the next train. Instead, only the cold wind and the newspaper floating and flying through the air, swerving around lamp posts. They could see, farther inside, the hallways to the other terminals and to the main hub, supplemented with directions hanging from the ceiling for which hallway went to what.
Above, the sky was still a dark blue. Clouds shrouded the moon and the stars, leaving it blank.
As the train left, the stranger trotted to the nearest bench where two lanky stallions sat.
One sleeping, the other awake though with drained eyes.
Puree saw them and shrank away, almost tripping and falling to the rails. "Y-You're...y-you w-work with them?!"
Flim stood up to shake her hoof, taking a brief look at his sleeping mustached brother. "Miss, you're hard to work with considering your wonky schedule."
"It's only wonky to you," the stranger shot back, then glanced at the dozing Flam.
"I had to stay awake for him," Flim said. "But...are you sure that everything is ready for the big explosion by noon?"
The stranger nodded. "There have been no major changes to Ticker Tape's parade, so there won't be any major changes to your plans. Just follow the route, wait until it's almost over, and then..."
"Affirmative, miss," he said.
Looked over her shoulder.
Saw the petrified Puree. "Why, haven't I seen you before?"
The stranger nodded again. "Yes. You have seen her before."
"What're you doin'?!" Puree yelled, galloping up to the cloaked pony and then grabbing her by the neck.
The stranger smiled. "Send my regards to Curd Spread."
Levitated her above the ground.
Saw her struggle to get out.
Lifted her higher.
"You can't do this to me!" Puree shouted. "I thought you won't kill me!"
"If you refuse to be useful to me, I'll kill you," she said.
A smile cracked on her face.
"I never told you what I would do if you didn't refuse."
Puree gasped. "You're gonna kill me anyway!"
"Not me," she said.
Glanced at Flim.
"You know where the spare Crystal pony is?"
He nodded. "Stashed in the emergency closet over by Terminal Two."
The stranger grinned. "Is he armed?"
"With a bow and arrow."
She laughed.
Laughed.
Holding Puree high up.
Laughed.
Flam still sleeping.
The stranger turned back to Flim, still levitating an imperiled Puree. "Alright...you send her to him. Make sure you take a picture of the event like you just came here to visit a friend. Call the police, and take a breather. You got that?"
Flim nodded. "Will do, miss."
"Good."
The stranger took out two pairs of hoofcuffs and a roll of duct tape.
Puree, still floating above the platform, screamed. "Help! Help!"
Now lowered down.
Closer to the hoofcuffs, closer to the duct tape.
"We cannot have weaklings like you drag Equestria down," the stranger said. "I always knew you were a squeamish pony. You did do some good work for the nation, but it's nothing a factory can't replace and improve on a thousand times more."
Puree tried punching her.
Only to be levitated away.
The stranger smiled at Flim. "Good thing Ticker Tape likes the crowd. Panic won't stop him."
Cuffed Puree.
Covered her mouth with the tape.
Looked at Flim. "Get her to the Crystal now."
Flim nodded.
His own smile wavering.
Then, the stranger exited the terminal, disappearing behind a lit hallway.