For a brief moment, Sabra was in free fall, wind rushing past him, hooves stretching out through the air as the massive central shaft gaped below him. Everything seemed to slow, time stretching out as he dropped, and some small part of him noted that far below, on the main floor, some of the Order unicorns were already looking up in shock as the ripple of the explosion that had knocked him from the balcony reached them.
Then his outstretched hoof caught the railing of the next level down, and time snapped back in an instant. His body swung forward, foreleg snapping to its full length as his whole weight came down on it and shiftinging his trajectory.
It was too much for his grip. His hoof slipped free of the railing, the world spinning around him as his momentum continued on, his head barely missing the underside of the balcony as he flipped over backwards. Again the air whipped at his chest as he pulled his hindlegs close, trying to regain some control even as a second explosion echoed through the shaft behind him.
He hit the next railing with his chest, the blow sharp enough to knock the breath from him both with impact and with a lance of pain from his bruised sides, but he dropped his forelegs before he could slip free, preventing himself from sliding back over and dropping again. If he did now, all his momentum stolen, the only way he would fall would be straight down.
And he wouldn’t stop until he hit the bottom.
Somepony was shouting. No, multiple someponies. Too many to focus on, but the tone was more than enough for him to go off of. The stealthy part of their mission was over.
Move! Now! Ignoring his body’s sudden screams for breath, Sabra shoved out with his hind legs, tucking his head in and flipping himself up and over the railing. He came out of his roll on his hooves, eyes and ears alert. Standing not three feet away was an open-mouthed unicorn dressed in familiar barding, eyes wide with shock.
They were too close to get a spell off in time. He crossed the distance in a single, low bound, one hoof sweeping his Fimbo from his back and bringing it up and around in a blow that shattered their jaw and lifted them from their hooves. They flew back, slamming into a wall with a heavy thud before sliding limply to the floor.
He was already moving on, snapping his staff to its full length and running for the stairs up. As he did, a large slab of crystal fell past in the main shaft, shouts of alarm echoing from below. More debris followed, and as he watched, the stairs he was rushing toward shifted to one side, a loud chorus of cracks echoing through the air as the crystal began to break apart.
A flash of motion from his right caught his eye, and he ducked, throwing his body to the ground in a slide as something whipped through the air where his head had just been. The crystalline carpet ate at his speed, and he kicked himself back up again, whatever had nearly struck him whistling through the air and hitting the ground just behind him hard enough that he felt the balcony shake.
He spun, staff up in a parry, only for a dark-red shape to slam into his block with enough force to send him sliding back, purple lines flaring across his suit as he strained to hold the blow.
It was the stallion he’d attacked coming off of the railing. Somehow they were standing once more, eyes and horn glowing with an angry red fire that matched both the red color of their barding and the blood draining from their shattered jaw. They let out a soundless scream, the lump of crystal they were holding in their magic—A bench?—shoving him back further as they pushed.
He twisted his Fimbo, ducking low and bringing the far edge of the staff around and behind the magikinetic bench, his opposition stopping and instead suddenly assisting the forward motion. With a gurgled cry, the bench and unicorn controlling it both surged forward. The magic field vanished a moment later, the unicorn letting go in a panic and stumbling as they tried to stop, but it was already too late. The bench crashed to the ground harmlessly as Sabra whipped around, bringing the staff out and slamming it into the side of the unicorn’s head at full speed. They hit the ground, and this time they didn’t get up.
He spun away, again heading for the upward stairs. He could see faint glimpses of some sort of magical battle going on—hear it too—but was too low to do anything about it. A bright flash lit the air, and he heard a cry of pain. A moment later, as his hooves hit the steps upward, a body wearing the red-and-black barding of the Order plummeted past him, screaming. Then there was a bright flash, and they vanished … only to reappear across the balcony from him and slam headfirst into the crystal with a crunch that made him want to wince.
Teleportation does not cancel momentum without excess energy. Bolt had spoken with Dawn about that. And it appeared the Order unicorn hadn’t had energy to spare.
He thundered up the steps, his lungs gasping for air as the shouts below grew even louder. He sucked in a short, shallow, gasping breath, but held it, not wanting to risk further. Where did the vials go? Ahead of him was the landing to the level he’d almost managed to land on, and he jumped, reaching it in a single bound.
“Look out!”
It was too late. The balcony ahead of him flashed, and the moment his hooves touched it he lost all traction, the surface as smooth as ice. Friction-free spell! He twisted, trying to keep as many of his hooves under him as possible, then pushed straight up. It sort-of worked—one of his legs slipped out painfully from under him. But by pushing against the weight of the crystal, not against the friction it normally provided, he was able to push himself up in a half-hearted hop, enough to carry him into the next set of stairs up.
“Clever.”
Instinct and hours of training took over. He kicked off of the steps, his mod flaring and carrying him high upwards and to the side before the voice had even finished speaking. Don’t talk, Steel’s voice said from the back of his mind. Fight.
He twisted his torso around in the air, landing away from the steps on the open balcony, lungs burning. He sucked in a greedy gasp, eyes searching for the source of the spell … only to be forced to move again as several nearby benches and a decorative stature surged toward him.
Four, he counted, jumping over two of the benches and kicking off a third. The statue—some mare, hoof raised in a salute—swept all three aside, shattering one of them into two pieces before passing by him.
There! The one controlling them was standing on the other side of the balcony, an unconcerned look on their face and a silver glow to their horn as they brought all four—no, five now—items swinging back. An open door was behind them, revealing an elaborate office of some kind, and with a jolt, Sabra realized he recognized his opponent.
It was the same face he’d seen floating above the tower, ruling over the city in Sombra’s absence. Argent.
“How did you get in here?” Argent asked, holding absolutely still even as his magic moved. Sabra ducked, skipping off of a bench moments before it could pin him against the wall. For all that was going on, for the shouts and yells of panic from down below, the unicorn could have been discussing his order with a waiter for how calm he sounded. The statue swept back, and Sabra threw himself forward, sweeping his staff around and pushing off of it, throwing himself at Argent.
A wall slammed into him, shoving him back and throwing him wide. It took him a moment to realize what it was. Air, he thought as he watched everything ripple. That was a blast of air. Tightly controlled.
He didn’t use magic on my armor, Sabra thought, spinning as the statue swept past him again. He slid across the carpet as he landed, springing again as Argent brought two of the benches back, their crystal sides scraping one another as they tried to crush Sabra between them. He used it on the air around me.
“You’re very curious, mud-pony,” Argent was saying as behind him, more doors began to open, other Order unicorns rushing out but not moving to aid their leader. “I heard someone say that your armor resists magic. Very like a lesser being, trying to fight against its betters.”
Two more benches joined the fray, and then a silver glow began settling on his armor, jerking him off balance as he ducked back. The magic field rolled off of his armor like tar, trying to stick but ultimately sliding away, and Argent frowned. “It would seem this was—”
Sabra reversed directions, rearing up and striking, his body burning with the force of his mod. The impact of his hoof shattered the stone bench that had passed in front of him, breaking it cleanly down the middle and tearing it free of Argent’s control. The fragments scattered across the balcony, one narrowly flying by Argent’s head and causing the unicorn to step back in surprise.
Sabra fell back, opening the distance between them and dropping into a careful, ready stance, one that gave him freedom to move to a wide selection of other positions, but more importantly one that gave his chest the most relaxed position to breathe with, to catch up with the tight pressure screaming for air that he’d faced since his fall.
Argent’s missiles fell back as well, several dropping into a guarding position close by his body, the others—statue included—taking up wide flanking positions. Argent himself hadn’t moved, but he narrowed his eyes. “Interesting. You seem to have better control over your innate magic than most.” Sabra lowered his body slightly, ears twitching as he listened to the sound of hoofsteps both behind, around, and above him. Then he smiled.
“Wrong! Not an earth pony!”
Argent spun, multiple unicorns near him lighting their horns as Captain Song jumped from the stairwell, slamming into the ground and shoulder checking one in the side with enough force to send them flying down the hallway. Sabra darted forward, watching as two of the closest benches to him began to move in his direction, the rest swinging toward Steel. He feigned a dive to his left, the benches swerving, and then jumped, pushing with all his might to launch his body out into the open air of the shaft … where he collided perfectly with the statue of the mare Argent had been lining up for a shot on Steel, kicking off it with enough force to send it flying downward, and launching himself back over the balcony.
“Kill them!” Argent barked as Steel brought his forehooves down on the crystal, a titanic boom echoing out alongside a physical ripple in the crystal, a thrumming vibration that made the whole floor shake. Unicorns stumbled even as they began to light their horns with returning magic, spells going wide. Steel rushed forward, hitting the closest to him and, with a backwards glance, tossing him up into the air.
Right in Sabra’s path. He twisted, flipping his rear hooves to the front and kicking off of the stunned unicorn, sending them rocketing back into the ground even as he threw himself up and over several other badly aimed spells. Then he was down beside Steel, both of them standing back to back in the center of the clump of shocked mages.
Two of the unicorns fell almost instantly as he and Steel swept outward, the captain crashing through their magic screens with brute force. Magic bolts bounced off his armor, cries of shock and dismay rolling through their ranks.
“They are resistant!” Argent cried as Sabra slid under a nearby unicorn’s blow. His Fimbo rose so quickly it made a faint whistle in the air, the side striking his foe’s cheek with enough force to shatter bone. “Avoid casting magic directly upon them! Cast laterally!” Sabra’s hooves rang as his staff collided with a magic barrier, a long crack appearing in the shield but the defense holding.
He used the force of the impact, shifting his weight and using the shield as a pivot point to push his whole body up with, flipping up and over the Order mage. Their eyes widened as he came down behind the shield, staff ready to strike … and the mage vanished in a flash of purple light, teleporting away. His Fimbo slammed into the floor, parting the carpet.
“Lord Argent!” somepony shouted. “The defenses are falling!”
Sabra spun just in time to see Argent vanish in a flash of light, his careful array of missiles dropping to the floor. Several of them came back up wrapped in different colors of magic, flinging themselves forward, and Sabra again called on his mod, watching the needle dip even as strength flooded through him. The statue of the mare shattered into dozens of pieces as he met it head on, his Fimbo punching into the crystal and breaking it apart.
“Form!” somepony in among the unicorns was shouting. “Form and coordinate! Remind them of their place!” Unicorns began teleporting out of their path, clearing a wide area around Sabra and Steel, one filled only with the bodies of their fallen allies.
They’ve above and below, Sabra thought, ears twitching as telltale snaps of teleportation echoed around him. At least fifteen of them.
Then, with a blur of magic, there were at least fifteen in front of him.
Two months ago, he would have been caught by surprise. A month ago, he would have been alarmed. Currently however …
He dove forward, ignoring the first three illusions he came across and charging through them without a second thought. He’d seen them appear, so they couldn’t be the real thing. The fourth he came to was breathing, and he took its legs out from under it, a unicorn letting out a cry of pain as they tumbled to the ground, the illusion they’d been hiding under jumping aside but otherwise not reacting.
A flash of light at his side caught his eyes, and he jumped, bringing his staff back beneath him and blocking a powerful, sweeping blow from a halberd. He dropped in the lee of the swing, pushing out with one hoof and sending his foe’s weapon sweeping wide. They teleported away before he could follow-up and capitalize on the blow, however.
Not that it mattered. There was no shortage of targets. The illusions were all around him now, circling but not attacking, their hooves and motions silent. Don’t get surrounded. From experience, it made him an easy target for ranged strikes. But the illusions moved with him, silent and staring, their eyes leaking purple clouds in a way that made them look sick.
One dove forward, moving to strike, and he let the attack fall through him. A hoof shifted behind him, and he brought his Fimbo back in a block. Something he couldn’t see collided with the metal, a shout of pain ringing out as an Order mage appeared out of the air. Their weapon dropped to the floor, and Sabra kicked, catching them in the gut and throwing them back. They broke through several of the illusions. He moved to follow, but a green glow slid over the floor beneath him, and his hooves began to sink into the crystal like it was mud.
He jumped, rear hooves slipping free of the now near-liquid floor with a slurp. Only to immediately begin to sink back into the floor as soon as he touched down.
Further, he thought, ducking then jumping again as another unicorn lobbed a ball of fire past him. The spell has a center. You just need to get clear of—
His hooves touched solid carpet once more and he spun, sweeping his staff through the surrounding illusions and forcing a unicorn hiding among one of them to duck back to avoid the whistling weapon.
“Fire!”
Sabra looked up to see a cascade of beams roll out from a knot of unicorns at Steel. A barrier flashed into being around him moments before the volley hit, shielding him and sending a number of the beams ricocheting off in all directions. Cries of alarm rang out from the group behind the barrage as their magic erupted in a cascade of detonations, and Sabra took advantage of the distraction to dart past his circle of illusionary attackers.
They reappeared almost instantly, before he could locate their source, once again surrounding him, faces fixed in snarls and thin streams of purple leaking from the corners of their eyes.
“For Lord Sombra!” Their voices echoed in unison, and then two of them darted forward, hooves up and at the ready. He ignored them, moving for the side, and—
A blow snapped his head to the side, and he staggered, staring up at the illusion in shock ever as another blow caught his hind legs. Both the illusions darted back even as two more stepped in, swinging at him with wide abandon. He ducked the first, blocked the second with his staff, the impact making the metal ring.
A twitch of his ear caught a hoofstep, and he swept the Fimbo back again, once more blocking a blow from an invisible assailant, only barely turning aside another strike from an illusion with one hoof. He was on his hind legs now, staff and forehooves engaged, dancing with every step as opponents invisible and illusionary struck at him, the occasional spell flying by for good measure.
“You cannot win.” The illusions’ voices echoed as one, rolling around him even as he twisted to block another invisible blow, barely catching it in time and catching a glancing blow from another illusion on his side. “Our magic cannot be matched.”
He jumped, lashing out at three attackers at once. His staff caught his invisible assailant, the blow glancing but enough to draw a curse from them as they fell back, but the other two simply passed through the illusions harmlessly, making them laugh.
Whoever they are, he thought as another attack slipped past his defenses. They’re close by enough to be able to move their illusions in reaction to my every move. His invisible opponent was closing in once more, and he stabbed out with the staff, forcing them back even as more blows rained on his armor. Close … close …
“Surrender, filth,” the illusions were saying. “And we will be merci—”
The words cut out as Sabra hurled his staff, all of the illusions going wide-eyed as one a split-second before his staff vanished into the air, a pained cry following in its wake. As one, the illusions doubled over, clutching their chests with one hoof.
I missed, Sabra thought as he shot forward. I was aiming for the throat. He brought his hooves up as he passed through the invisible bubble before him, catching sight of a pair of unicorns standing close together, one wide-eyed and frozen in surprise as Sabra dove through her veil, the other holding a hoof to their chest, a spitting image of the dozen or so illusions he’d left behind. They had just enough time to let out a startled cry before Sabra’s hoof caught them across the chin, snapping their head back. Several more blows followed, the last an overhead blow that drove the stallion’s head into the floor with an impact he felt through his rear hooves. Outside the veil, the illusions vanished, and he spun, sweeping the other unicorn’s legs from under her and then jumping over her as the invisible foe he’d been tracking attacked once more.
Blood sprayed from the unicorn’s side as his attacker missed, plunging their dagger deep into the mare’s chest. The veil winked out as their magic faded.
Sabra swung, his staff whistling through the air, only for it to stop with a bone-jarring crash as it slammed into the neck of his invisible attacker. Their magic winked out as well, revealing an older-looking stallion with a look of shock on their face, neck bent at an unnatural angle. They slumped to the floor, and Sabra felt his stomach twitch in horror.
He shoved the reaction from his mind, whipping around as more magic flew at him, this time striking the ground before him and ripping the carpet up, peeling it back and trying to fold it over him. He darted back, the carpet crashing over the three ponies he’d just incapacitated like a wave and wrapping tightly around them.
Steel was around the circular balcony from him, locked in battle with a trio of armed unicorns, his armor bearing scorch marks and cracks but a trail of bodies behind him. And the pack of unicorns that had thrown the volley earlier seemed to be collapsing, eyes glazed over in looks of shock and surprise as their bodies gave up. It wasn’t until he noticed Dawn standing behind them on the steps, a tiny needle clutched in the glow of her magic, that he understood what had happened.
He moved as another spell roared across the carpet where he’d just been, an unnatural freeze following in its wake. Rapid-fire cracks sounded as ice and frost formed across the ground, The sweeping beam followed Sabra as he jumped back, darting left and then right. My armor may resist such a chill, he thought as the beam narrowly missed his hooves. But the cold and ice could still be overwhelming. His hoof came down on an icy patch as he dodged once more, and this time the spell swept over it.
His hoof went numb, a deep chill rolling up his leg even as he yanked it back. Pain followed a moment later, a tingling prickle, like hundreds of tiny needles were stabbing at his flesh all at once.
He pushed the pain aside, diving behind one of the stray, overturned benches that Argent had been using earlier and putting its flat side between him and the beam. A moment later, frost wrapped around the edges of the bench, cracking pops sounding in its wake as it thickened into ice. The beam was sweeping back and forth now, rapidly crossing the front and sides of the bench, ice slowly building up in layer after layer. If he moved to either side, or up, the caster would have him in moments.
Then I must move with my cover. He braced his back legs as best he could, ignoring the burning pain from his one rear hoof, and pressed both his forehooves against the underside of the bench. He could feel the chill of the frozen crystal even through the covering on his hooves. Then, with a deep breath, he called upon his mod and pushed.
The bench flew forward as if launched from a cannon, right down the path of the beam. Some of the magic slipped past, striking him in the chest, and he winced as the chilling cold pain seemed to lash through him, sucking away his breath.
Then the magic winked out as the unicorn casting tried to duck, only for the bench to clip them in the shoulder, sending them sprawling across the balcony. Sabra was already in motion, moving in a low leap even as the unicorn’s eyes fixed on him once more. Their horn began to light up, a telltale bubble appearing around them as they began to teleport … just as Sabra swept his Fimbo across the space between them.
The staff collided with the tip of the unicorn’s horn, and the unicorn let out a scream of pain, raw magic surging out of their horn as it cracked, bursting into bolts of arcane energy streaked down across their body and the balcony. The teleport sphere pulsed and warped, jagged streaks of magic jerking through it and distorting the view inside. Sabra snapped his Fimbo back as the unicorn twisted, screaming in agony as their body folded in impossible ways, and then vanished.
Only to reappear in the open air several feet away, their form distorted, with too many sides showing at once and their scream still echoing. With another crack they vanished, only to appear again, and again, and again, each time faster and faster, their scream rising in pitch, the bubble they were in distorting and stretching until it was barely a thin, colored line stretching from one end of the balcony to the other, jumping and jerking so quickly it was almost invisible. Sabra took a step back, watching as the world past the line seemed to fold in on itself, warping and twisting in ways that made his eyes hurt.
Then, with a final, almost deafening burst of magical energy that echoed through the tower, the line disappeared, the screams of terror going with it and the world snapping back to normalcy like a rubber band returning to its original shape. Silence reigned in the wake of the detonation, all parties seemingly frozen in place and staring at the last location of the now-missing Order mage.
Until Steel dove forward, bringing his armored gauntlets across a pony’s chest, slamming them back against the outer rail of the balcony. A second blow sent them tumbling over the edge with a scream, and then the battle was in full chaos once more. Sabra spun, pulling his staff back and checking for new assailants.
He found them almost immediately. Two more unicorns were charging down one of the spokes toward the balcony, both with horns aglow. One was levitating a sword with a thin blade, similar to a rapier, while the other was surrounded by floating orbs of some kind, likely magical in nature. Both were looking right at him, eyes narrowed as they galloped down the hall. He took a brief moment to check the area around him, listening for any signs of closer, more immediate attackers or dangers to Steel or Dawn, but there were none. Both had their own fights well in hoof from the look of things, Steel with sheer power, and Dawn with magical finesse.
Very well, he thought, settling into a crouch on three hooves and flipping his Fimbo in front of him. He let it come to a stop resting on his fetlock, balancing, then cocked his hoof at the two unicorns. The message was clear: Come. I am ready. The two unicorns obliged, both picking up speed and lowering their heads as they charged toward him.
The one on his left acted first, bringing her rapier up and vanishing in a flash of light as she teleported. A faint pop followed by a rush of wind from his right side warned him moments before her blade stabbed out, and he twisted, bringing his Fimbo across and up and knocking the blow to the side.
Just in time to shift his weight again as the other unicorn attacked, one of the three orbs circling him firing forward and narrowly streaking past Sabra’s hip. It continued on, punching a hole clean through the railing around the balcony and before coming to a sudden halt, hanging in the open air.
A second later it darted back, widening the hole it had made on its first pass as it moved for Sabra’s core. He stepped forward, narrowly blocking another darting blow from the rapier-wielding unicorn, the orb passing so close he could feel the wind of its passage tug at his tail-hairs.
There was a unicorn on the Night Guard with a similar trick, he recalled, though she’d used much smaller orbs. In addition, he’d been certain that hers were simply orbs held in a magikinetic field. Here? There were no such assurances.
He feinted, shifting his body as if he was going to step back but instead darting forward and shoving the mare’s rapier aside with one armored foreleg. Her eyes widened in surprise at the move, but only barely, her horn flashing, the mare teleporting away before his staff could strike. She flashed back into existence to his left, blade already lashing out in a quick, narrow blow.
He twisted, kicking his body free of the ground and rolling in the air, the blade passing by harmlessly above him. One of the other orbs launched out at him as he landed, this one moving in a tight, sideways arc. He kept one eye on it even as he turned aside another blow from the mare’s rapier, only for her to teleport mid-strike and reappear practically on top of him, drawing back her blade in a quick slash that barely missed his neck. He brought his elbow back, hoping to catch the mare in the side, but she vanished again, and then everything went sideways.
Or rather, the world went sideways, down flipping to somewhere off on his right and yanking him off-balance. He staggered, sliding across the carpet, only for down to go back to normal, again throwing him off-balance as the mare with the rapier appeared once more in a flash of light.
This time she did score a hit, red-hot pain cutting across his foreleg as the rapier found its mark. His Fimbo knocked the blade away almost instantly, but he could see the faint sheen of blood along one edge as the mare darted away.
Still, the wound burned rather than throbbed, and the blood seeping around the cut in his suit was minimal. The blow had been glancing. He’d gotten lucky.
The second orb had already darted back to its master, the mage keeping his distance. That pulse, where gravity changed, Sabra thought as the three of them eyed one another for a moment. He’s used the orb as the center point for the spell. Is it an artifact, or some sort of distance channeling?
Both the Order mages moved again, the stallion launching the first orb straight at—No, Sabra realized, slightly to my side—and the mare vanishing in another teleport. Rather than step out of the path of the first orb as it crashed toward him, bashing aside an unconscious fellow Order member with a bone-crunching impact, Sabra jumped up and into its path. The orb passed by beneath him, almost instantly switching directions back toward its master, even as Sabra twisted against in mid-air, catching the mare on the inside of one foreleg with his staff. A glancing blow, but one that made her retreat all the same.
But not jerk back in surprise. Either she was using magic to deaden the pain, or she was seasoned enough to know not to flinch.
Then, as the stallion sent out the third orb, this one smaller and quicker than the other two, the mare narrowed her eyes, and the slim rapier burst into flame, the metal glowing red-hot. Then she vanished in a flash of light, appearing in front of Sabra and delivering a rapid hail of strikes so quick his eye almost couldn’t follow them.
Almost.
His staff was a blur as he knocked her blade aside again and again, standing his ground even as the mare’s eyes widened in surprise and then took on what looked almost like grudging admiration. But not quite. He could feel the seething contempt simmering beneath them. Just as he could hear the faint hiss of the final orb circling around behind him.
He didn’t wait to see what it would do. With a quick touch of his mod, he launched himself up, twisting and kicking off of the ceiling before coming down behind the mare. She brought her blade up just in time, flames rolling off the blade as she turned a blow from his Fimbo aside, while behind her the final orb exploded in a hot flash of flame, steam boiling into the air as the ice on the carpet boiled. Even with the mare between him and the explosion, he could feel the heat from the sudden flash, though both mages seemed unaffected by it. The orb darted back to its owner, air rippling in its wake.
So one that’s either unknown or just a battering ram, one that can mess with gravity, and one that makes explosions of heat, Sabra thought, fending blows from the mare as the second orb darted back in. This time he was ready, and he jumped once it drew near, already twisting so that he was properly aligned when “down” changed again. The sudden shift did pull his leap slightly askew, but being ready for it, he was able to adjust by the time his hooves touched down again, staff at the ready to block the mare’s next attack.
Which he did, turning her blade aside at the last moment as she probed for a gap in his chest armor. The tip of the rapier screeched across the crystal panels, leaving a long, charred scratch in the material. He felt the heat from the burning blade through his suit, a warm line across his barrel. The mare let out a snarl as she flashed away.
The wound on his leg was still burning, but he hadn’t seen too much additional blood, which meant, if he was remembering properly, that it was shallow. He ducked his head under another slash from the rapier, ears flicking as he felt the heat of the blade wash past them.
If I merely defend, they will wear me down, he thought as the mare almost scored another hit on his armor. The other mage was readying for another attack, shifting to a different position. I need to attack; throw one or both of them off-balance. The needle in the corner of his vision was at half; there was still enough charge left for a few uses of his mod if he kept it light.
I just need an opening. Again the mare teleported, this time several times in quick succession, and he brought his staff up, whirling it in a circle above him and driving her back.
From the corner of his eye, the other mage struck, once more launching the heavy orb at him on a curving, arcing path that made it clip a stray bench and send it spinning across the floor.
There! It was his opening. He waited, moving as if he hadn’t noticed the heavy orb streaking toward him and then, moments before impact, hopped.
It wasn’t much of a hop. In fact, it barely lifted him at all, just enough to lift his hooves up off of the ground by a about a foot or so, enough so that he was starting to come back down just as the orb reached him.
Which was when he called on his mod, strength surging into his limbs, and drained the battery in a single instant, kicking down with his hind legs as hard as he could. His enhanced hooves met the top of the orb, pushing down …
And the orb blasted into the floor, crystal shattering as it powered onward, tearing a deep, gaping wound that gave way to light as the orb broke through to the next level down. Sabra rose up, the strength leaving his body, reddish lines fading from his suit as the mod went completely dead, its power spent. But the mare had pulled back in shock, caught off-guard by the sudden shift. And to the side?
The stallion’s head had snapped down as equal reactions had taken over, the amount of magic he was using to manipulate the orb not nearly enough to prevent such a forceful hit from whiplashing his own neck. As Sabra landed, crouching and then springing forward, the other two orbs whipped out, the stallion bringing his head up with a look of alarm.
They both struck at the same moment, Sabra’s staff slamming into the stallion’s side even as the first of the two remaining orbs pushed out, shoving everything away from it. Including Sabra and the stallion controlling it, dulling the force of Sabra’s own strike.
The third orb detonated a moment later, heat washing over him, but he was already dancing back, his ears warning and then allowing him to catch the other mage’s rapier with his staff just before it would have plunged into the gap along his back-plates. He shoved back hard, pushing the mare into another teleport before following the off-balance orb mage, slapping his staff against the returning “pulse” orb and sending it sliding off toward another part of the balcony.
A hot sizzle was his only warning as the other mage’s rapier narrowly missed his face again, sliding past his visor and filling his eyes. He slapped it aside with his staff, but the feint had given her ally time to step back again.
I can’t take aggressive actions against both at the same time, he thought as he ducked to the side, hooves sliding in what ice was left on the carpet. The mare’s rapier slashed by again, this time scoring a burning groove across his left vambrace that thankfully came nowhere near his undersuit. And Steel and Dawn are both still dealing with their own battles. He could hear spells being cast a level up, along with shouts that seemed to indicate Dawn had the upper hoof, and across the balcony the constant crash of breaking crystal said that Steel was more than capably taking his foes apart. As well as being separated by distance.
He danced around another swipe of the mare’s blade, keeping just ahead of it while eyeing her counterpart. One orb down, he thought, noting the way the unicorn was keeping his distance. He’s not confident in his melee abilities without it, or perhaps at all. The mare teleported again, and he blocked, the impact leaving a black streak down the side of his staff.
There. The orbs were circling out again, this time in a much wider arc. He’s either going to recall them when they’re behind me, or at some point far along the arc so that they come from behind. While she— The mare in question appeared before him in a flash, blade flashing in an array of quick, fiery strikes that he turned aside. She keeps me occupied.
But they didn’t know of his special talent. He could hear the faint hiss of the fire-orb circling to his left, its path wide, but able to close at any moment. He kept his eyes forward, flipping and spinning his staff to block the mare’s rapid strikes while settling into a rhythm, a pattern that she would hopefully recognize in mere moments.
Now! The hiss behind him suddenly swelled in volume, the orb changing directions and rushing toward him from behind. He couldn’t hear it, but it was likely its remaining partner was as well, or perhaps a hair earlier, to pull him in before incinerating him.
And with the change, he dropped his staff into a new stance, moving forward in a jerk. The mare’s eyes widened as her next attack struck, digging a deep, hot groove across his shoulder plating. Then his staff was behind her, jerking her forward as they both pirouetted to keep their hoofing, dancing around one another … and exchanging places.
The mare’s look of surprise and shock were matched by a sudden cry of alarm then as she was yanked back by the gravity orb, Sabra’s staff almost slipping free of his grip with it. She vanished a moment later, heat searing his body as the flame orb erupted.
There wasn’t time to admire his work. He spun, galloping toward the other mage, who was standing by the wall with a look of disbelieving shock on his face. His horn flickered as Sabra neared, throwing up a desperate shield between them, one that shattered the moment Sabra slammed into it. The mage let out a cry of pain, recoiling, only to be cut off as Sabra’s Fimbo slammed into his jaw, his head, his shoulders. His legs were the next target, each snapped aside with almost bone-breaking force. The mage fell forward, letting out a faint grunt of pain as his chest hit the ground.
Sabra didn’t stop. The rain of blows continued, his staff blurring as he struck again and again, stopping only when the stallion’s eyes took on a glassy look. For a moment the mage’s battered head hung there, wobbling back and forth, eyes fixed on some distant point … and then it simply toppled forward, eyes closing as they hit the ground, beaten senseless.
A shriek of rage was his only warning that the other mage was back, and he brought his Fimbo around just in time to deflect a furious stab, redirecting it just in time so that the blade skipped off the side of his helmet. With a flash the mare teleported once more, appearing some feet away, eyes burning with rage. Then she spoke, a single word ripping out of her mouth like an ember spat from a fire.
“Filth.”
He smiled, though she couldn’t see it. “No,” he said, flipping his Fimbo and once more giving the mare a gentle “come” motion with his hoof. “Zebra.”
With a scream, the mare launched herself forward, her own hooves glowing with magic as she leapt across the balcony, rapier extended before her. Sabra met her charge without a word, spinning and not even blinking in surprise when she teleported moments before impact, appearing at his side. A quick shift of his hoof flipped his staff around, knocking her blow harmlessly to one side.
Again she teleported, appearing this time at his other side, again aiming for a gap in his armor. Once more he batted the strike aside, taking a deep breath in response to the mare’s wide-eyed yell of frustration.
Together, you stood a chance, he thought, his limbs moving with perfect synchronization as he parried strike after strike. He was barely shifting his rear hooves now, entirely in balance, the pain of his injuries a dull reality at the edge of his senses, but no longer part of his focus. The mage let out another shout as she moved to strike home, only for her blow to be turned aside in such a way that she stumbled, her chest meeting the end of Sabra’s staff in a light, but not debilitating, blow.
She teleported again, her attacks growing more frantic with each passing moment. Several attacks more, and another strike of his own slipped through. Then another, and another.
She’s panicking, Sabra thought as the strikes grew more wild. She is unable to accept that she is losing this fight. She doesn’t know how to respond. She was teleporting with more rapidity, too, though doubtless she didn’t realize the effect was spoiled by the constant, yowling scream coming from her mouth as she tried again and again to catch him unawares.
An attack. Another block. A parry. A quick strike. Again and again. The mare’s carefully held stance began to collapse.
Now. He stepped forward, meeting her next strike with a powerful blow that nearly snapped the blade of her rapier even as it threw her completely off-balance. Before she could teleport away he brought the staff back, catching her in the leg and upsetting her balance further.
Then, it was nothing but a rain of blows, his forelegs working like pistons as he struck her again and again, battering through her weak defense to land blow after blow against her barrel and sides. Finally, he brought the staff around, spinning as he pulled what little magic had regenerated from his mod, and struck the mare a blow in the chest that sent her flying across the balcony. She hit the far wall and slumped to the ground next to her compatriot, her rapier clattering to the ground, its fire spent. There was a faint moan as she tried to rise, one hoof held to her chest, and then she went limp, unconscious.
A thunderous impact from across the balcony made him turn, staff at the ready, just in time to see Captain Song using a massive piece of crystal that appeared to have been broken from a wall to shove his final two opponents back up against the balcony rail, pinning them against it. Steel stepped back, eyeing the two unicorns as they struggled to push the titanic bit of crystal away and free themselves.
“Bet you wish you had some of that earth pony magic now, don’t you?” Steel asked. Then he reared up and brought his hooves down hard against the balcony floor. With a sharp crack the floor split, breaking cleanly in a circular line.
Both unicorns screamed as the railing they were pinned to, along with the heavy crystal holding them in place, broke free and fell out of sight. A deep boom seconds later marked the end of both of them, unless one or both had remembered to teleport.
Given how quickly and abruptly the screams had stopped, however, that didn’t seem likely.
He gave the floor a quick look, checking for new assailants but finding none. For the moment, the only Order nearby were those that were lying motionless on the ground, either unconscious or—his gut twisted slightly—dead.
“Sergeant Triage?” Steel called, head twisting. “Sergeant!?”
“Up here, captain.” Dawn’s voice echoed from the next level above, and a moment later her hooves rang against the crystal steps as she began to make her way down. “I’ve secured the Order unicorns above. They won’t awaken for some time. Are either of you injured?” She was, Sabra noted, showing a number of burns and chips in her own armor, and there was blood on one vambrace.
“Armor took most of it,” Steel said, speaking quickly before looking in Sabra’s direction. “Spec?”
“Cold injury on my rear hoof,” he said, quickly trotting around the destroyed balcony in the direction of the captain. “But based on how it feels, it doesn’t require immediate medical attention. Cut on my left foreleg.” He held the limb out. “Light.”
“Is it still bleeding?”
“No.”
“Then for the moment, we’ll let it lie,” Dawn said, her eyes moving to Steel. “Argent?”
Steel shook his head. “No idea where he popped off to. But we’ll need to track him down if he’s running for it.”
“What if he leaves the city?” Sabra asked.
Steel shook his head. “As long as he’s free, he’s a threat. Dawn?” He turned, looking at the mare once more and then frowning as she stumbled down the last few steps, her hoof slipping. “Are you all right?”
“A sprain,” she replied, shaking her head as she recovered her balance. “Painful, but not debilitating, and a reminder. You were right, captain,” she said, coming to a stop next to both of them. “There are indeed situations in which something more reliable than a length of rope may be desired. A thin length of chain would have been … appropriate.”
Steel nodded, but didn’t appear to want to comment on it. “We’re good to move then?” he asked, looking at them in turn. “Then let’s move down. Dawn? Pop a filter around us for that gas. Triangle formation, Dawn on the left side, Sabra in front, at a trot. We see anything remotely hostile, I want it taken down fast, understood?”
This time he did wait for their nods, and Sabra gave his quickly. “Good,” Captain Song said, straightening. “Then let’s move.”
Sabra nodded again and took the lead, moving to the next set of spiral steps and down them. As he did so, he shot a quick glance over the railing, down at the distant ground floor. Dozens of unicorns were stretched out in odd poses, lying in place. Dawn’s gas had done its work.
“How are we going to search this entire tower?” Dawn asked as they reached the next level. It was much the same as the ones above it, though for the most part untouched by the violence that had been visited on the upper levels. Barring a few notable holes along the balcony above them and in the ceiling, including one that had left a trail of destruction behind it that looked to have gone through several walls. “These levels only get larger as we go down, and this tower is massive.”
“We can’t,” Steel said, glancing down one of the spoke-like hallways as they reached the next set of stairs. “There’s simply not enough of us without abandoning other parts of the city. At this point, we have to hope he hasn’t just run and hidden, and that he’ll come to us.”
The steps shook underhoof, a chiming, resonating vibration rolling through the whole tower. Sabra paused, but the shiver was already gone, as if the building had just wanted to stretch slightly. If it begins to collapse … But the motion hadn’t felt like that, and he’d been in a building that wanted to collapse before. This had felt like … Like a dog shaking itself before it stretches, perhaps. He resumed his pace down the steps, ears swiveling and hunting for any sound.
Then he found one. A deep groan, low and rolling, began to make its way up the structure, rising through the structure like the call of some ancient beast, and he froze again, his body quivering in tune with the sound.
“What is it?” Dawn asked quickly. “Is the structure collapsing?”
“If it is, we didn’t do it,” Steel said, but Sabra shook his head.
“No,” he said, shooting both of them a glance. “It doesn’t … feel right … Not for that.” The groan was still sounding, the steps still shaking. It was almost like the building was … sick. “It’s something else.”
Then the interior began to dim, the ambient light emanating from the crystal walls growing dark and grey. Far beneath them, the floor lit up, but then went dark again as the light seemed to slide up the walls, a glowing band of energy that picked up speed until it faded somewhere several levels down from the team. A matching glow came from the top of the structure, passing them by and vanishing at the same place. Then the glows came at the same time, and began to pick up speed.
“Captain,” Sabra said, watching as another glow faded. “Do you think that could be—”
“Who else? Move!” Steel surged forward, forcing Dawn and Sabra to move quickly to catch up. “Remember the briefing? Sombra used the crystal ponies as batteries!”
“Do you think that’s what he’s doing?” Dawn cried as they galloped down the stairs. “This tower sounds as if it’s dying.”
“Well, I doubt whoever made this place wanted it to be used for this,” Steel answered as they passed another floor. The walls were greying now, the soft blue shades replaced by a lifeless, drab one that reminded Sabra of ash. “Come on!” The bands of light were moving faster now, coming with more rapidity.
Then, as Sabra’s hooves touched the floor where they were vanishing, the bands stopped, the groaning fading with it, a terrible silence falling over the building. Slowly, spots of blue began to come back into the walls, the surface glowing once more, though weakly, as if the building itself were recovering.
“Hold steady,” Steel said quietly, his voice low. His voice against the unnatural silence made the hairs on the back of Sabra’s neck try to rise on end, pressing against his suit. The silence felt like a physical thing, a sudden presence pressing down on them.
The floor they’d come to was only a few up from the ground floor, and much more open than the floors before it. A large door occupied one end of the hall, opposite the entryway on the ground floor. So large and ornate, in fact, it almost looked like—
A public hall of some kind, Sabra realized. It has to be. Maybe even a throne room. The red banners over everything concealed much of the ornate designs behind it, but the way the lines of the walls were angled, guiding the eye toward the entrance, the way the door itself had been carefully carved with a stylized heart—again defaced—spoke of some great presence behind it.
That, and the balcony was much larger than the ones before, adopting an elongated sweep with the door at its center. It wanted to be noticed, and had been given space enough for maximum impact.
“Careful,” Dawn said, her low voice still shocking amidst the silence. Her horn was glowing. “I feel a lot of magic behind that door. Worse, we’re low enough now that the gas may still be present. Stay within my shield. A faint, shimmering sphere glistened around them. “Or if you get out of it, try not to breathe.”
They waited, watching the door as the seconds ticked on.
Nothing. Sabra glanced back at Steel and Dawn. “Perhaps we should knock?” The captain let out a low laugh, but shook his head.
“No, if we knock, we do it Dusk Guard style.” He took a step forward. “We blow the—”
“Magic!”
Dawn’s cry of alarm was the only warning they got before the door exploded outward, a titanic explosion shattering it into dozens of pieces and flinging them across the balcony. Sabra ducked, but Steel’s barrier dropped into place around them, intercepting and blocking several of the large pieces. They hit the shield hard enough to make it ripple, the heavy chunks of crystal breaking apart and skittering across the surface past the group. And behind them …
Argent … Sabra thought, pulling his Fimbo from his back. The silver-coated unicorn was standing in the doorway, looking perfectly calm and unruffled in the wake of the destruction he’d caused. Almost too calm. There was something about the dry, almost bored look on his face that sent a prickle of unease crawling down Sabra’s spine, like a beetle had gotten into his suit.
He should be worried, Sabra thought. But he’s not.
Then again, it could have had something to do with the dozen or so remaining Order members fanning out behind him, all but one of which were unicorns, the last a crystal pony collaborator. A few of them looked a little unsure or nervous, but the rest looked confident. A few even wore smiles.
They either possess extreme confidence, or they’re in possession of something we have yet to see, Sabra thought as Argent took several steps forward, coming to a stop just outside the door. There was something else off about him, and it took Sabra a moment to identify what.
Purple. He could see it, ever so faintly now. Leaking from his eyes. Like misty tears that flowed up instead of down. A glance at Dawn showed that she’d noticed it as well, confirming his suspicions.
He’s pulling on dark magics.
“I am impressed,” Argent said, his voice carrying across the balcony. His voice was … calm, almost relaxed. In a way, lifeless, as if the stallion himself were working to summon the energy to speak. “I will admit that I had assumed, like so many of the king’s advisors, that you were an army of Equestrians bent on our subjugation. But now that you are here, I see no army. It was always the three of you, was it not? Skilled, talented, yes, but striking from the shadows, orchestrating our responses, guiding our thoughts.”
“Well, it helps that you’re pretty predictable,” Steel replied, a firm tone in his voice that seemed to stand opposed against the lack of urgency or weight to Argent’s own. “But if you’d like to be unpredictable for a moment and surrender instead of trying for the futile last stand, I’ll accept that.”
One corner of Argent’s lips turned up, the unicorn taking on a strange sort of half-smile. “An intriguing proposition, Equestrian, and I suppose I should do the honorable thing and offer like in exchange. I am willing to accept your surrender and submission before and on behalf of King Sombra.”
“You know nothing of honor.” Sabra caught the slight twitch of Steel’s ears as he spoke out of turn. He hadn’t meant to, but … No sense in stepping back. “You rule through fear and oppression, with barbarity and cruelty. Your word has no honor, nor any substance of trust.”
Argent’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I suppose those of your ilk would see it as such, if only because of your blindness. But no matter. If you will not surrender, then I must force you to see reason.” His horn began to glow, sickly-looking purple bubbles of magic rolling along its length amidst the silver glow. “How thorough were those that hold your leash in explaining why—?”
He teleported, blinking a foot to his right as a chunk of crystal, thrown by Steel, passed through the space he’d just vacated, still speaking as if nothing had happened. “—I am Lord Sombra’s second in command?”
“I assumed it was because you’re the largest plot-head he could find second of himself,” Steel said, hefting another bit of crystal. He’d had to poke his foreleg out through the barrier to throw it, Sabra realized.
Argent didn’t respond to the barb. “It is because of my talent.” His horn began to glow brighter, and Steel glanced at the rest of them, jerking his head and giving them the signal to fan out.
“He can breathe, so can we,” he said, then broke, charging through the barrier and around the edge of the balcony. Sabra followed his motion, rushing first toward the opposite side and then changing direction to charge right at the open doorway where the rest of the unicorns were still standing still, waiting.
For what? They didn’t even react as he began to run toward them. They just stood, waiting at his charge. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled again. Something is very wrong.
“I am a master of organization,” Argent said, teleporting again to keep away from Captain Song, his voice never stopping. “My skill lies in effective utilization and distribution of resources,” he continued, the purple globs across his horn growing. “I can examine almost any report or document and, with the information given, find the most efficient path forward. In my tasks as Lord Sombra’s second, this makes me a highly valuable asset.”
Sabra slowed to a stop, mere feet from the door. The ponies on the other side still hadn’t moved, or even reacted to his presence. They barely seemed to be looking at him, their eyes staring at … Argent? The prickling sensation of wrongness was running down his limbs now. Something very strange was going on.
Still, he didn’t have to cross into the room, not when there were a few large bits of crystal nearby he could simply toss—
Then as one, in the same moment, each of the remaining members of the Order smiled.
“But when taken to its full potential,” Argent said, and Sabra turned to see the unicorn’s eyes flash with corrupted magic, leaking out of the sides like water boiling off a hot stone. “I become so much more.”
With a sudden snap, the eyes of each of the Order members through the door flashed, first with white light, and then, as Sabra turned back, the sense of dread he’d been feeling swelling, with tendrils of purples that surged through the veins, making it look like each of their eyes was being clutched by some sort of creature.
Which in a way, they were. Their mouths opened as one, each speaking in perfect synchronization, their voices layering over one another in a terrible cadance. “I become many, at their fullest extent.”
The Order ponies charged as one, and Sabra dove back as three ponies moved to attack him at once, moving in perfect synchronization. He managed to bring his staff up, deflecting two simultaneous blows with short swords, only for a third to scrape across his armor and a stunning spell to slam into his hip, enough of its power pressing through his armor to send tingles down his side.
He jumped back, swiping wide with his Fimbo and watching as each of the four ponies before him moved in perfect synchronization, not one tripping over another or stepping in the way of its fellows. Two unicorns behind them teleported, and he was forced to duck as both appeared on either side, one cutting high with their sword, the other low.
He took the low strike with his shoulder, the blade chipping away at his armor, and shoved back, trying to catch his attacker off balance, only for a third unicorn to appear in flash of light, blocking his move with a sudden stomp of their hoof that nearly pinned his shoulder to the ground. As it was, he pushed himself back, sliding under the attacker on his other side, trying to put more space between him and the dangerous, synchronized unicorns.
This isn’t like fighting the Guard at the field, he thought as he blocked three more strikes, the last attack still slipping past him to chip away at his side as he dodged another spell. They fight with one another. They work together, but this … His Fimbo was almost invisible he was spinning it so fast, frantically knocking aside blows from all sides. While none came individually as fast or as quick as the mare he’d been fighting earlier, each was in harmony, and together …
It’s like fighting a beast that shares a single mind, Sabra thought as another spell threatened to ensnare his hooves in thick roots. He dove back, luring his attackers into the roots instead, snaring three of them for a bare moment. But then the spell receded, freeing them to press the attack once more. Off to his side, he could see Steel and Dawn both fighting against their own attackers, Steel facing Argent himself with several allies, all keeping a wary distance from the earth pony and seemingly trying to wear him down with spells, while Dawn was frantically casting for all she was worth under a barrage of magical fire.
There has to be a way to even the scales. He was almost backed up against the balcony railing now, his attackers pressing hard and fast. He had more than a dozen chips across his armor now, and several spells had made it past his defenses as well, one limb burning with pain, the other slowed and sluggish. As his tail touched the railing, one of the unicorns with a sword slipped past his defenses and his plates. Pain erupted along his lower side as he twisted, the blow light, but the blade sharp enough still to cut through suit and skin. He staggered back, his attackers smiling as one.
I cannot retreat any further, and together, their skill outweighs my own. He was moving purely on instinct, staff parrying desperately as his attackers—or attacker—closed in. I cannot win. We cannot—
NO.
Some stubborn part of him pushed back, and with a start the bleakness seemed to lift from his mind. Mental magic! So subtle he’d barely realized he’d been effected. The group around him scowled as one, pushing forward.
Great leaders and generals have stood where my hooves now step, he thought as he brought his staff around in complicated star, turning aside three blades and two spells. The metal glowed red where the spells hit. But they achieved victory each through skill and cleverness. Fields of fire, hidden blades in the grass, and—
Gas. He sucked in a greedy breath, breathing as hard and fast as he could, ignoring the pains in his side and even managing a weak, aborted shout between blocks. “Mind!” he called. “Magic!” He wasn’t sure if Dawn and Steel even had the awareness to hear his voice over the battles they were facing, but he had to try. As he watched, Steel got the upper hoof over one of the unicorns, only for one battling Dawn to turn and fire a single spell that forced him back before turning on Dawn once more.
They move as one, he thought. But they are not perfect. So I shall bring them closer to that number. He took a final, deep breath, filling his lungs to bursting, and jerked forward, tossing his staff high into the air.
Again, his motion caught his attackers off guard, but they reacted swiftly. Multiple blows slammed into him, pain cascading up his chest and sides as his armor did its best to hold the attacks back. But he had to weather it, had to push through it, because …
He locked his forelegs around two of his attackers, even as they jabbed at his armor, trying to get past his plates with their weapons, and caught his Fimbo as it fell.
Locking it tightly against the pair’s backs and the two unicorns between them as he jerked back, pulled at his mod, and rolled backwards over the balcony rail, dragging all four of them with him.
Two teleported away before he’d even let go, flashing away in bursts of light and landing on the ground level beneath him. The other two he let go, scoring several more blows even as he tumbled away and back. Both of them surrounded themselves in magic glows, slowing their falls.
He pulled his mod dry as he hit the ground, the force of his impact shattering the crystal floor beneath him and sending a spiderweb of cracks in all directions. Even with the mod granting him superpony strength and endurance, the impact still threatened to knock the air from his lungs, and the hoof that had been frozen earlier sent a lance of pain up his rear leg. His Fimbo slammed into the ground nearby, skipping off the crystalline surface with a ring and slamming into the grand staircase.
A spell shot past his head, narrowly missing the tips of his ears, and he moved for the steps as the unicorns began to move toward him once more, weapons at the ready and horns glowing with magic.
At least, until two of them slowed and began to stagger. Confusion erupted across all their faces at once as one of them slipped to the ground, trying to stay upright. A second later another followed them, and then a third began to sway. Shields began to flicker in the air as each of them caught up with what was happening and began to summon barriers as Dawn had to strain out the sedative.
But he was already moving among them, heading for the most aware of the four remaining unicorns. His move seemed to catch them by surprise, and he ducked through the pony’s shield, slamming into them and throwing them down hard against the ground. Quick and dirty. The barrier around the unicorn winked out, and he slammed a hoof into their gut, right beneath the barding. Air exploded from their lungs, followed by a greedy, automatic inhalation … and the pony’s eyes rolled back, their body going limp.
Whether or not they were faking there was no time to determine. He spun as two of the other unicorns teleported away, likely to someplace they could breathe, but the last one couldn’t seem to grip their magic properly. Even the purple veins in their eyes were fading away.
He didn’t see whether or not they did before his hoof hit their face. The unicorn went down, and their eyes stayed closed.
From three levels up there was a titanic explosion, a deafening boom that echoed through the tower and made the floor vibrate beneath Sabra’s hooves. Bits of crystal rained over the balcony and tore through banners.
Without a pause Sabra turned and ran up the grand steps, scooping up his battered Fimbo as he went and balancing it on his back. Another explosive boom echoed from above, this time followed by a roaring sizzle as beams of light began arcing around the open air. One cut across one of the large, flowing banners, and it burst into flame as the beam cut it in half.
He reached the landing and circled back, galloping for the spiral steps that started on the sides of the tower. Bodies of motionless Order unicorns lay all around, forcing him to jump and choose his hoofing deftly.
He was almost at the landing to the third level when another titanic explosion rocked the tower, steps shaking under his feet. This time, however, he saw the force of the blast, six spells intersecting as one and blasting Steel across the balcony. He slammed into the far wall and didn’t get up, his armor scorched and blackened.
“That’s one of you dealt with,” Argent’s voice said, echoing out of multiple mouths even as Dawn let out a wordless cry—from anger or shock, Sabra couldn’t say. He rushed across the landing, rising up the steps again as multiple spells converged on the mare’s position. Amazingly, her shields held, though she staggered to one side.
Right into a teleporting unicorn with gripping a spear in their magic. The glowing blade bit deep, puncturing through Dawn’s armor and, as Sabra watched in horror, lifted her into the air before flinging her across the balcony to drop out of sight behind the railing.
“And then,” Argent said, floating in the air as Sabra rounded the final landing, chest burning even as he let himself breathe at last. “There was one.”
Steel was still down, motionless. Dawn was lying at the end of a slick of blood, spear still in her side. Argent had spoken the truth. There was only one thing to do.
“You will find,” he said, drawing his Fimbo and settling into a fighting stance. “That this one is far more capable than you know.” I don’t have enough time to take all of them down. Argent is the center. If he falls, so do the rest.
“You have no magic that can challenge ours, past that which your enchanted armor gives you,” Argent continued, his voice echoing from almost a dozen mouths as Sabra sprung forward. But not quite—he could see a few inert bodies near where Steel and Dawn had both been fighting. He jumped, twisting and avoiding multiple strikes from Argent’s puppets, still making straight for the unicorn. “What hope do you have against the magic we wield?”
In the corner of his eyes, he saw Dawn move slightly, and he increased his speed, still barreling toward Argent. The unicorn laughed, three other Order unicorns appearing before him in a flash and intercepting Sabra’s path, blades and even a flail at the ready. He faked a leap, then broke left, Argent’s forces closing in on him from all sides, but none looking in Dawn’s direction.
He blocked two blows, ducked under a spell, then twisted around two more attacks even as the end of the flail wrapped around his staff, trying to yank it away. He pulled what little power was in his mod and tugged back, yanking the weapon from the unicorn’s grip and quickly flinging it at another. Even with Argent’s unification, the unicorns went down in a tangle.
The crystal pony came at him alongside three other unicorns. A spell stabbed at his ribs and threw him back even as he managed to catch one attacker in the chin with a retaliatory strike. Dawn was still getting up, but he was facing attacks from all sides now. Dawn rose, the spear that had been in her gripped in her magic as she pointed it at Argent’s back …
A spell caught her in the side, flinging her to the ground as two of Sabra’s assailants warped away, appearing by the downed mare and pummeling her mercilessly.
No.
“You are capable,” Argent said, his voice still flat even from as many throats as it was emanating from. “My prior statement about numbers was premature. Now it is one.” The two unicorns delivered final, vicious kicks to Dawn and then warped back to join those pressing against Sabra. “You will lose, Equestrian.”
No.
Blows were coming from all sides, slipping through his armor. A spell left a track of ice across his flank. Pain erupted across his skull as something slammed into his head.
No!
He snapped his hooves out, taking scoring hits against his forelegs even as he threw several ponies back, and jumped, pushing up as hard as he could as he flew toward the floating Argent, bringing his staff up for an overhead blow. He swept it down—
And it stopped, suddenly, tearing free of his hooves and sending him into an end-over-end flip. Right before he hit the ground he caught sight of his staff, still hanging in the air, its tip held in a purple-silver glow.
He landed on the back of his head and rolled, his body bouncing over debris. He had almost slid to a stop when an explosive spell caught him in the gut, launching him across the balcony. When he finally did come to a stop, it felt as though the ground was shaking beneath him, the world quivering. He tried to push himself up—
A unicorn kicked his legs out from under him, throwing him to the ground.
“Interesting,” Argent said, still holding Sabra’s staff in his magic as he walked over. Several of his puppets knelt on Sabra’s limbs, pinning them even as his head swam. “It would appear I was right: whoever made your armor did not think to extend that same resistance to your staff.” He tossed it aside, sending it clattering across the balcony before looking back at Sabra.
“Now, with you three rooted out, we can once again prepare this city for Lord Sombra’s return. The unicorn we will keep; her skill was evident, and she may yet be brought to see the light. But you, your kind, and those that aided you?” He shook his head, the purple magic seeping from his eyes finally fading slightly. “You do not know your place, and therefore are forfeit. Remove his helmet.”
Hooves tore at his neck, yanking the straps against his chin before severing them and tugging his helmet away. He blinked, looking up at Argent as the unicorn’s eyes widened in surprise.
“You really are a zebra,” he said, a dark, purple cloud forming around his horn. “Unexpected.”
The world seemed to be swimming now, a deep rumble echoing in his ears like distant hoofsteps. Maybe he’d be unconscious before the killing blow struck. Argent, however, didn’t seem to want to wait.
“Farewell, Equestrian.”
I will die honorably. He pulled his head up, glaring at Argent as the purple magic swelled and boiled. Goodbye mother, father.
Goodbye, Sky. He swallowed. I—
Argent fired, and a shining pink shield slammed down in front of Sabra, the beam hitting it with a screeching hiss.
“What!?”
“Gotcha!”
Argent reared back, eyes wide as two beams of yellow light lanced into his puppets, catching them in the back of the head and dropping them to the ground. Two more had begun to fall before the first two had even slumped halfway, and suddenly Sabra’s limbs were free as the Order mages jumped to defend their coordinator.
Two more fell, and then a thunderous cacophony of snaps and bright flashes filled the balcony as dozens of unicorns, each clad in royal gold armor, appeared on the balcony, spells firing. A clear spot at their forefront rippled, an invisibility spell melting away to reveal a cadre of Royal Guard with a familiar blue-maned figure at their center. More Order fell, the few that remained holding a barrier around Argent, dozens of spells slamming against it.
Neither Argent nor the unicorns were looking in his direction. Letting loose a howl, he threw himself at Argent’s back, desperately pulling at his mod in hopes that it had something—anything—left to give. Argent turned, eyes wide in shock, as Sabra’s haymaker caught him in the side of the head, lifting his hooves from the ground and launching him across the balcony. He hit the railing with a dull thump, his head cracking against the crystal, and slumped to the ground, horn going dark, purple ichor boiling away. His remaining forces sagged, cohesion broken, and dozens of stunning spells cut them down.
Sabra sank to his haunches, chest heaving, eyes suddenly damp as he glanced at Steel and Dawn. Medical Guard were attending to them both.
“They’re fine.” Sabra snapped his face back forward and managed a salute as Captain Armor came to a stop in front of him. Two more Guard medics stepped past him, already moving to check his injuries. “They’re both fine,” Captain Armor repeated. “They’re still alive.”
Sabra nodded and sagged. We did it. “I …” There was something he was supposed to do, if his flagging mind’s shouts were anything to go by. Some duty that Captain Song had drilled into them.
Yes. That was it. He nodded and opened his mouth, his throat dry. “As …” He coughed, clearing his throat. “As standing ranking member of the Dusk Guard, command is now yours, Captain Armor.”
Captain Armor’s jaw dropped, and then, almost sheepishly, he returned Sabra’s salute. “Accepted,” he said, even as more unicorns charged up the remaining stairs, working in teams to flush the building. “It looks like you guys had the party out of Tartarus.”
“Believe me,” Sabra said as the medics began disconnecting his armor. Suddenly Dawn’s insistence that the other divisions know how to carry it out made sense. He let out a slow breath, and then nodded.
“We are very glad to see you, captain. Asante.”
END OF PART TWO