The Life of Penumbra Heartbreak

by Unwhole Hole


Chapter 53: Forces of the Sun

High above the Crystal Empire, a phoenix crossed the skies, watching the battlefield. She saw the plight of the Nightmare forces, and what she saw, so did her owner.
Reinforcements were on their way. Already, the Shadowbolts poured into the city, encountering heavy resistance from griffon mercenaries in the process- -but the Nightmare troops were in danger of being encircled. Nightmare Moon’s reinforcements would not reach them in time.
And so, far across the planes of ice that surrounded the Crystal Empire, a booming sound like thunder began to roll in from the distance. It was the sound of hundreds of hooves pounding across the ice, building momentum with every step. The armor they bore was gold, the mark of Celestia, save for that worn by their leaders. Those that stood at the front of the earth-pony infantry were the most beautiful of their kind: tall and muscular, their bodies rippling with the ancient strength of the Mighty Helm, the land of their ancestors. None among the horde slowed, and none among them would be stopped by any force, whether it be pony, magic, or machine.
The earth-ponies charged into the city, forcing their way to their embattled allies. Their orders had been simple. It was a straight shot through the Empire to the shield dome. They would clear the way. Above them, the Pegasus forces had already entered the airspace; at their rear, the unicorn mages sworn to Celestia herself, no doubt out of breath and puffing hard from the exertion.
What the armies of Nightmare Moon had failed to do in their zealotry, the armies of the Three Kingdoms would do by standing together as one.
Ahead, suddenly an obstacle came into view. Not golems, but a contingent of thralls. They stood in formation, their luminescent green eyes staring forward blankly at the force of earth-ponies.
“Captain Iron!” cried one of those near the front. “The enemy!”
“I see them!” replied Ironskull. “Don’t slow!”
“But if we hit them at full speed, won’t they- -”
“They’ll move!”
“And if they don’t?”
“Then we MAKE them move!”
Yet, even as they drew closer, the thralls did not hesitate. Even at the sound of thunderous hooves, they did not budge or flinch. They showed no fear, and no reaction. They were, after all, no longer ponies. They were lesser copies of Scarlet Mist: parasites, fused to living bodies. Parasites that knew nothing of pain, nor cared how much their hosts were forced to endure.

From her quiet control platform, the field marshal watched the incoming force of earth ponies. To her, they were tiny dots along a map, moving silently through the holographic streets of her home.
She understood their goal. They were using the earth-ponies as a spearhead, knowing that once they had gotten running there was little in Equestria that could stand against their strength. The force of thralls, unassisted, would be no match to them.
“Slave,” she said. “What is our current allocated fear level?”
“Eighteen percent, with a current draw of nine hundred units per second and rising.”
“We need to be careful,” said Asahel. “Sombra needs the power reserves. Unless you would like to drain them and take power for yourself. Actually, I’m rather surprised you haven’t. You should.”
The field marshal ignored the golem. “There is enough reserved for the process.” She moved her hooves over the map, conjuring a formation of lines in accordance with the dispersion matrix’s properties. “Set projections at eighteen degrees past east, dissemination angle of twelve degrees. Prepare fear injection on my mark.”
“Perimeters met.”
“I am integrated with the central systems,” said Asahel. “And I would really like to know what this will do to filthy organics. I hope they explode!”
The field marshal frowned, watching her map, performing the complex calculations in her head as the triangle moved into position. Then, in the silence, she spoke.
“Mark.”

The dial containing the Heart of Darkness screamed with mechanical grinding as it shifted into position, drawing directly from the Heart and manifesting its force into a tightly controlled wave of black energy. It propagated outward, and the crystal ponies near it- -those who had taken shelter under the shield in the Capital District- -screamed as their minds were overwhelmed with fear. Not that it mattered. They were collateral damage.
Across the battlefield, the blast-wave struck the thralls and washed outward over the earth-ponies. The effect was immediate. Some of those among the horde slowed, suddenly struck by deep-seated fear. Doubts filled their minds, and icy terror began to creep into their souls. They knew they would fail, and they knew there was no hope.
Yet those in the front did not falter. They were the bravest and most courageous, and could overcome the fear by force of will alone. If anything, they ran faster.
“Foul witchery!” laughed Ironskull. “Do you really think that wizardry will work in the MIGHTY HELM?!”
Yet, as they watched, they saw the thralls begin to change. As the wave of dark fear cast from the Heart of Darkness struck them, they began to change. Their bodies flashed with light, and their flesh changed, replaced instead with black crystal as they drew energy from the Heart itself. When the force of earth-ponies slammed hard into the front lines of the thralls, the thralls were not thrown back- -they stood firm, the power of their crystalline bodies equaling the strength of their earth-pony attackers.
The thralls forced themselves forward. The earth-ponies struck out, kicking and punching and bucking, but their attacks had little effect against the crystal bodies of their opponents.
Only the strongest of them stood firm, engaged in the battle; although their motion had been arrested, they still stood together, and still had their strength. Ironskull leapt onto one of the attackers, throwing her back and kicking her in the chest hard enough to hear things snap- -yet the thrall felt no pain. It leapt onto her, trying to pin her down.
From beneath its mask, she could hear a strange sound. A sort of muffled screaming. To her horror, she realized that it WAS screaming- -that these beings were in agony, terrified by their own existence.
“What are you?!” she cried, angrily turning the pony over and getting the upper hoof.
Somehow, it spoke, even as the pony beneath was screaming and pleading for help. “We are the future of all ponies. Embrace us, for we are freedom.”
“Freedom? More like HOOF!”
She punched the thrall in the face. The blow was so great that it rendered the crystal pony beneath unconscious, and Ironskull tore off the mask. As she did, the crystal on the thrall’s chest blinked. His eyes opened for only a moment, as if pleading. "Please no...please don't make me go back..." Then in a flash he was gone.
“Foul witchery!” Ironskull stood. “THE MASKS!” she cried to the others, “remove the MASKS!”
“Ironskull, behind you!”
She turned, but too late. For just a moment, she saw a truly hideous image: a view of the severed mask tearing across the snow, pulled along by unholy appendages without name. She drew her hammer, as if to defend, but the mask jumped. Before she could do anything, it had already crawled up her shoulder and attached to her face.
Ironskull turned and immediately slammed her hammer into the side of the head of a pony who had been her best friend. She charged into battle in the name of Sombra, sending heretics flying with her strength as she, the strongest of them all, fought alongside her siblings to defend the Empire from the horde she had minutes before led into battle.
“Ironskull, no!” cried a smaller, young earth-pony. “Snap out of it!”
There was nothing to snap out of. There was only the battle and the KING. Ironskull raised her hammer.
“Dôme!”
The hammer came down, but glanced off a sudden wall of magical energy. The thrall that had once been Ironskull looked up, its vision calculation magical signatures and finding the next probable host. Its eyes fell on a trio of unicorns. Two of them were purebloods, one green and one pale yellow, both clad in the thick enchanted robes of those trained at Celestia’s own academy.
The third, though, was different. She was not colored like the others, a pureblood of a higher level. One of noble birth: a tall, pure white unicorn, clad only in a rune-inscribed golden collar.
“Tenir!”
The two lesser unicorns shifted in unison, their hoofwork precisely timed by the nature of their spells. One, a wind-mage, cast a spell around Ironskull, trapping her in a storm; the other, a plant-mage, cast a spell that caused roots to emerge from the soil, wrapping around their target’s legs.
Yet neither slowed her terribly much. With barely any struggle, Ironskull was able to tear herself free.
Which was anticipated. Rancine De’Lis took one step forward and raised her long, perfect horn. She cast a spell of great power, surrounding her target in a perfect cube of pink light.
The thrall within raged, pounding on the walls. The spell began to crack.
“Madame!” cried the younger of the two assistant mages. “The spell!”
“Ze spell may break, if it wishes.” Rancine smiled. “For the spell does hardly matter, no?” A sadistic grin crossed her face. She was careful to keep her lips closed. “Is it being contained...or is it ze oxygen?”
She compressed the spell, drawing out even more air, but the thrall was already growing weak. Ironskull had begun gasping for air, weakening without access to it. Her blows grew weaker and weaker until in a few seconds, she collapsed entirely. Rancine set the cube down and walked past it.
“Bouclier!” she ordered, already preparing her spell as her assistants moved to provide the assistance patterns. In an instant, a wall was drawn across the front of the battlefield. Rancine formed a second spell, grasping any thralls caught on the wrong side of the spell and transmitting a considerable amount of magic lightning into their bodies.
“You can remove the masks,” said one of her assistants. “They don’t want to fight- -”
“Zey are sent back via teleport, no doubt to return to us once more. No. They must be taken care of now, and here. Zis catastrophe will not stand! I vill not have earth-ponies ruining my battle!”
She forced the shield forward, pushing back the thralls that had begun to pound upon it. Whatever magic had made their bodies convert to crystal was weakening, and Rancine took note of this. It was apparently not possible to sustain it for very long, either by nature of the spell or weakness of the host.
Then something moved. To the horror of the earth-ponies taking refuge behind the shield, a golem stepped out from between two of the buildings. Specifically, a type-G, a heavy artillery-support unit that stood as high as most of the buildings.
Though metal, it had been fashioned in the form of a unicorn. Energy erupted around the tip of its horn, forming into a sphere of dull red energy. The air suddenly became electrified, and each and every pony felt the hairs of their mane standing on end. Then a high wining sound came across the whole of the battlefield- -followed by a deafening explosion.
The beam tore through the force, sending earth-ponies flying in every direction.
“DÔME!” screamed Rancine, automatically covering her spell to protect any unicorn in the vicinity.
The golem focused its beam on her, directing it with mechanical precision directly toward Randcine. The force was incredible, and the spell could not hold. One of the assistants began to swoon from the feedback.
“Don’t you DARE!” ordered Rancine- -but it was too late. Overexerted, the younger mage fell to the snow.
“I can’t hold it!” cried the other, with the spell suddenly unbalanced. “I’m sorry, madame, I- -”
His eyes grayed, and he too passed out. The spell failed.
Rancine sighed as her dome began to crack. Through her spell, she could see the back of the golem shifting, preparing new and strange weapons made of crystal and steel. It was planning an artillery strike.
Rancine took a breath and, all alone and with no assistance, she changed the spell. It erupted outward with such force that the golem was forced to take a step back. Rancine screamed in rage, drawing her mouth fully open and completely exposing the long, gleaming fangs it contained. Her horn ignited with red energy and she struck out with her full power, attacking the golem directly. It staggered backward- -and one side kept staggering. As it did, the two halves separated and it fell as two pieces., cut down the middle.
“Incompetence,” she said, flicking her mane to the side so as not to muss it any further. Her horn was still smoking as she turned to the terrified forces behind her. “Well? Do I have to do ALL the work? What are you even here for? MOVE! Bouge TOI!”