//------------------------------//
// Chapter 51: Army of the Night 
// Story: The Life of Penumbra Heartbreak 
// by Unwhole Hole 
//------------------------------//

In the exact center of the Crystal Empire, machines twisted and writhed in response to the will of the steward. The technetium engine that housed the Heart of Darkness twisted, its millions of fine-wrought technetium gears revving to a high whine as they compensated for the changes in dispersion pattern. The dial turned, its components shifting into a new position. As it did, the shield surrounding the Empire softened and became permeable- -and then started to retract. 
It washed across the city, buffeting against the now empty crystal structures and through the silent streets. Cold wind and ice followed in its wake, leaving nothing habitable behind. Within barely a minute, it had recondensed and solidified around the Capital District, the area where the Citadel itself was housed at the very center. When it reached that final state and reformed, it filled the city with a strange bluish cast. Being smaller, its density had increased to a level that only Sombra and Holder Heartfelt had ever before witnessed.
The battle would be fought in the streets, between the cover of the high and listing crystal buildings and among both factories and potato fields. The patrols were already out in force. 
Within one of the groups, the commander shivered, tapping on the crystal in the center of his chestplate. The gauges indicated that it was fully functional, but even with the thermal support beneath his armor the cold was still biting. 
“Why don’t they just glue cherries to our noses and buck us?” he groaned, staring out into the barely lit snowy darkness. The wind was starting to gust. “Half the Empire’s going to freeze, and us with it.”
“Stop complaining.” The other pony assigned to the patrol contingent was, unlike the first, not a unicorn. She was a hulking Pegasus, and her body bore distinctive evidence of chimeric and genetic splicing, the sort pioneered by Buttonhooks the Mad and Crozea the Witch- -and, of course, king Sombra. Compared to the atrocities Buttonhooks’s experiments had created, though, she looked relatively normal. “Try having wings. I can’t even fly in all this gear...”
“But you can wrap them around yourself or something.”
“And you’re a mage. Cast a heat spell or something.” 
“It doesn’t work that way and you know it.”
“Or you just didn’t think of it.” The Pegasus sighed and looked over her shoulder at the marching thralls behind her. They wore armor and masks, but no thermal equipment, even though their skin was exposed in many places. “They don’t seem cold.” 
“Crystal-horses don’t get cold,” snapped the unicorn. “Their bodies aren’t like ours. Almost no nerves, no brain. They don’t even feel pain. Basically pieces of rock...they might as well be golems.”
“I’d be more comfortable with golems. Thralls are basically spellfodder.” 
“Relax. What are the chances we encounter the enemy forces our here?”
The Pegasus winced. “Why would you say that?”
“What?”
“If you say something like that, then- -”
One of the thralls looked up into the distance. “Object detected.” Its voice was deep and hideous. All the thralls stopped at once. “Awaiting orders.” 
“What the- -nopony told me they could talk now.”
“It was in the last memo.”
“I will tape cherries to you and BUCK your memo. Ugh.” The unicorn looked out into the distance. The patrol was standing down a long, straight avenue that led to what had once- -long, long ago- -been a road leading across the ice and heading north. In the distant light, the unicorn was able to make out several dim silhouettes standing in the street. Silhouettes of ponies. 
“What in Sombra’s name...”
The Pegasus stared out. She nictitated, and her surgically enhanced eyes focused. 
“Enemies,” she said, bracing herself. 
“What? Here? NOW?!”
“I told you!”
The unicorn stared into the distance, lighting his horn- -although the only effect was to make himself more visible. “What army? Ponies? I can’t see them!”
“Ponies,” said the Pegasus. “Very thin. Sickly. Covered in bandages.”
The unicorn seemed confused, and then smiled. “So, what? They sent plague victims to fight us? I suppose the rumors are true. The Equestrians have no concept of medicine. They must think this is supposed to be meaningful.”
“I don’t know. Something smells...wrong.” 
The unicorn did not notice. He raised his armored hoof and signaled the thralls. They obeyed, and he marched forward along with them. 
“You there!” he said. “Present authorization! NOW! Failure to comply will result in a RELENTLESS beating, followed by imprisonment! We have you outnumbered!”
The Pegasus slowed. Something was VERY wrong. Something in their eyes. She could hear their rasping, labored breathing and see their horribly thin bodies, but their eyes made her afraid. They were all green, and each and every one of them reflected in the light of the commander’s horn.
Then, high above, the clouds began to part. The Pegasus and unicorn both looked up in surprise- -and high overhead, they saw the full moon. 
The ponies in the darkness screamed and began to charge. The unicorn commander, confused and instantly afraid, took a step back, retreating behind the first of his thralls- -though he did not give the order to retreat. It was already too late. 
The screams rose to a fevered pitch and became howls. As the moonlight passed over their bodies, the sickly ponies changed. Their bandages were ripped and torn away as flesh became wood, and as their size expanded vastly. Their gate changed from that of ponies to that of loping wolves. 
“W- -werewoods!” cried the unicorn. “WEREWOODS!” 
The werewoods crashed hard into the force of thralls, their enormous wooden claws throwing the crystalline ponies in every direction. They showed no mercy, and no control. In the sacred light of their goddess, this vanguard knew only destruction. 
The spiced Pegasus braced herself and rammed her shoulder into the chest of one of the werewoods. It pushed her hard, but her hooves dug into the snow and she grabbed hold of it. Its teeth gnashed near her head as it tried to bite her, but she held firm and kept it at a standstill: though the curse afflicting its body made it a monster, the technology afflicting hers made her its equal. 
“FLARE!” she cried, turning to look over her shoulder at the terrified commander. He stared back at her, his big blue eyes awash with fear. “FLARE! NOW!”
“R- -right!” he cried, turning his head to the sky. His horn glowed, and he fired a single bolt of light toward the clouds. It exploded in a plume of yellow just as he was tackled to the ground, his thick gear suddenly the only thing saving him from being infected by the bite of a werewood. 
The Pegasus mare cried out, summoning all her strength as she bit hard into the werewood’s shoulder. Sweet sap poured into her mouth and the beast yipped wildly. Yet even as she threw it off and turned to the next one, she felt a rope wrap around her rear legs. She tripped and fell into the snow, only to see a dark figure rush past her. There was a scream of a crystal pony, followed by the flash of a teleport. One of the masks had been removed- -and then another. More figures rushed past. First two. Then ten. Then an entire army. Their featherless wings, their bright, strange eyes- -when she saw them, the Pegasus knew that while her patrol had been dealt a humiliating defeat, the battle had only just begun.