There were a million things Omen had wanted to do before he left. Maybe taking Princess Twilight up on her offer of a picnic, or perhaps watching to see if certain ponies would mind a friendly spar. This place was so different from the dingy, neon-lit alleys of home that he had wanted to sample it all. However, his first issue was learning of the world he had been shoved towards by pure universal happenstance. Instead, he was up at almost midnight, buttoning up his favorite suit. Black shirt, black jacket, red tie. None of the sharp edges or strange geometry that the richer folk of his homeworld preferred, just a timeless suit. He began closing all the latches on his fabricator, shutting down each engine individually to prep it for transport before folding it in half, allowing it to look like a normal suitcase. He smiled down at it before pulling two gems from his pocket. He rolled them around his fingers like a magician before dropping one at his feet. "Well," He spoke, his slight Cockney accent sliding through his teeth. "Let's go have a quick meetin'."
***
Vaunted Title was having a wonderful night. True, his meeting to ensure his claim to banish that ape living with Twilight had taken much longer than he anticipated, but negotiations were always worthwhile when you succeded, and he had. The votes were in before the claim would even be read. So he could trot happily to his office to finalize the paperwork, and then he'd be the one to secure that creatures belongings for the crown. Some might say it was heartless to ruin the ape's life simply for the acclaim of securing a powerful tool for Equestria, but that wasn't important. What happened to some non-pony living in his town was easily ignored, and would be quickly forgotten.
So it was with a clean conscious that he opened the door to his abandoned office, making his way in with a smug grin. That is, until he shut the door. When the door shut behind him an audible click was heard, before a cockney voice chimed out. "Well hello there Guvna, having a shiny day?"
Titles froze as his lanterns were lit one by one by the ape he was just thinking about. Omen was walking slowly, lighting each lantern with a hand made of steel and wires. He paused at one. "Oh, before you wake up from shock I should probably do somethin' bout that pigsticker o' yours." Omen walked up easily, pulling a small piece of metal from his pocket. He slid it around Title's horn. He nodded as he backed away. After spending a moment appreciating his work he moved behind Vaunted Title's desk, sitting in his chair. With a happy sigh he leaned back, letting his feet rest on the desk. "You don't mind if I prop me feet, right guv? After all, this is my last night in Equestria thanks to you. Only seems kind of you to let me enjoy it."
Title began stammering as Omen began lazily searching through his desk. Omen waved a free hand in the air without a care. "Sh-sh-shhh, none of that guv, ain't no one gonna hear us, and the only other thing in the room don't want to hear it." His fingers closed around something glass in a loose drawer, and he pulled it out with a grin. "Aha, knew you'd keep some good stuff in your office! You business types are the same no matter what world you're in." He removed the glass beaker before pulling back a sip. He let it sit in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. "Gin, why do rich boys always drink gin? Not that it matters. I'm here to share some things with you before I make my merry way out of here."
Title found his tongue again, finally forming a sentence with which to respond. "Wh-what you share doesn't matter. You're dangerous, and by the end of the week you'll be gone."
Omen let out a cheery laugh, waving the bottle in the air and spiling expensive bourbon over the carpeted floor. "Mate, you don't need to muck about with me. I found a few of your more private files before you even walked in. Dropped them in the postbox straight to Lady Twilight's door. Should be there by tomorrow, and with your signature on everything, well..." Omen's grin turned feral. "If it weren't for you targeting me it would be a political kill for sure. But since you went after my pretty little neck, it's got to be a bit more literal."
With his metal hand he reached into his jacket, pulling out a machine of steel and wood. He held it loosely in his grip, bouncing his hand a couple of times. "See, I was wary to share my more dangerous toys with you ponies. So much innocence piled up in one little package, had to be a catch yeah?" Title stared as Omen spun out a cylinder and inspected it for a moment before another grin flashed his way. "Guess I was right to, no?"
Title felt his body freeze as the ape closed the cylinder, pulling back a lever on the back of the device he had to assume was a weapon. He sent a spark of magic to his horn, trying to wrench the thing away from Omen, only for sparks to fall across his vision as his head exploded into pain. Laughter drove nails into Title's head as Omen began to stand. "Nice try guv, but that little sleeve is something I cooked up after Twi taught me a bit about anatomy. The metal conducts whatever energy you ponies call magic, and shoves it back into the base of the horn. Easy enough to make, though I think it might be a bit painful." He tapped his trigger finger to the side of the gun. "Mind describing it for me notes? Might end up being useful for the Griffons."
Title's pain receded, and he forced his head up. He had heard everything Omen had said, but couldn't understand it. His throat was dry, though whether from the back-fired spell or his own fear he was unsure. "G-griffons?"
Omen nodded, happily playing with a file he found on the desk as his gun hung limply in his grip. "Oh yes, they offered to host me several times. 'Course I would never leave Twilight hanging like that, poor little bird she is. Why she so eager to learn all about my stuff she's been staying up all night. Had to slip a little something in her tea to slip away." He flipped the papers in the file, stifling a laugh. "Really mate? Keeping your blackmail folder in your office? Any bloke who walks in with half a mind could learn that Duke Grace has been embezzling from orphans for a few years." He paused, tapping the file. "Course, it's a perfect crime. I mean who're they gonna tell," Omen turned to Title with a predatory smirk. "They're ma and pa? Ha, I crack meself up."
Title stared as Omen placed the file on the desk, leaving it open before grabbing a quill and making a few key marks on it. "Now, onto the main event. Vaunted Title, that's you right?" Title didn't say anything, holding onto the desperate hope that maybe Omen would believe he was a separate pony. Omen looked at the nameplate on the desk, and back up to Title. "yeah, you're him, dressed to nobbish to be a servant. So, here's the deal." Omen leveled the weapon at Title, closing one eye as he did so. "Let it never be said I'm not a fair man. I only do to folk, what they would do to me. You tried to banish me, and steal my stuff at the same time." He waved the gun about as Title's eyes followed it. "Now, normally I would kill your political career and call it a day. But, you had a note in that pretty little file of yours to hire some sellswords to track me down and kill me for investigations into my nice cyberware. So we're stuck here with blood for blood."
Omen let out a chuckle. "Which means we're in the Thunderdome. Two man enter, one man leave." Omen shrugged his shoulders. "But I'm not heartless, so have you got any final words to share before I kill ya, promise they'll be known to all of Equestria afterward."
Title felt a million words fly through his head. Words that might vindicate him, words to parley for his life, but his body betrayed him. "Please don't kill me! I'll give you money! Power!? What would it take to spare me!?"
Omen smiled wide. "Are ye saying ye'd beg for yer life?" His accent began to grow, though what that revealed was nothing.
Title quickly nodded his head. "Yes, please, I'll give you anything you want! I'll do anything you want!"
Omen's smile grew, splitting his face and showcasing each tooth. "Anything I'd want, eh?" Tite nodded, hope blossoming in his chest before an explosion rattled the room. The body slumped to the floor as Omen blew the smoke from the barrel of his gun. "Then die you snobby ponce."
Omen tucked the revolver away in his jacket, pulling out a small notebook with the same hand. His fingers clacked against the spiral as he pulled out a pen and began writing. "Sorry about that mate, you woke a sleeping tiger, can't complain when he takes a chunk out yer arse." Finishing his note, he placed it on the counter. "Well, that takes care of that." He gave a nod to the corpse. "Sorry bout yer carpets mate. Bloods probably gonna ruin 'em something fierce, not that you care anymore." He reached behind the desk, leaving the pen and notebook on the desk. "Anyways, I got a date with some birdbrains. Cheers!" With a wave at the body, he dropped a gem at his feet, cracking it with his heel before disappearing in a flash of light.