//------------------------------//
// A Sound of Thunder 
// Story: Guardian 
// by Thule117 
//------------------------------//

Three days. . . . It had been three days since the battle the Legion had named 'The Day of Wrath'. . . . Three days since the Legion had given all they had to defend Equestria from demonic invasion. . . and only 3 hours, since Derran and his brothers, had explained their contingency plan to Celestia and Luna. . . . Now, Celestia lay in her bed, unable to stop crying, as she recalled the conversation.


"There has to be another way." Celestia protested, struggling to keep her voice from sounding desperate, as she looked into the grim faces of Derran and his fellow commanders. Luna nodded, her expression and tone making no effort to conceal how frantic she was to avoid this idea.

"Our sister is correct, this plan is-" Derran cut her off before she could continue.

"The only one that has even a remote chance of succeeding." He declared firmly, his expression like a block of stone. Luna fell silent as she looked to her sister for support. However, much as she wanted to contradict him, Celestia knew Derran was likely correct, and so could only hide her feelings, behind the mask of the dutiful princess. 

"Tell us of it again." Celestia demanded. She had already heard it twice, trying to find some flaw or alternative that would give her a concrete reason to veto the idea, so far, she had found nothing. Derran likely knew what she was trying to do, but offered no comment. He already knew her search was in vain. 

"As you wish milady." He said, his tone and words clinical and without emotion. "The plan is broken down into several phases. Phase one has already begun, with the use of the data crystals provided by Lord Khamun, we will create the weapons and armor necessary to bring the Legion back up to full fighting strength. Thanks to the addition of Equestrian magic, the weapons and armor are projected to be several times more powerful than versions utilizing only D'nurian magetech. Phase one also includes the addition of creating hidden supply caches sufficient for, should it ever prove necessary, the waging of war across Equestria. Additionally, we will begin the establishment of a number of concealed defensive locations for the protection of critical personnel, and as many civilians as can be accommodated given our limited timetable for fabrication." Derran's explanation was accompanied by a vague gesture toward the innumerable maps and charts on the table in front of them, indicating potential locations for the caches and fortresses. According to Derran, the Legion had been planning for this day almost since they had arrived here, all the while praying it would never come. It was now clear however, that that particular prayer, was destined to go unanswered. 
With a nod from Celestia, Derran continued. "At the same time, a unit of six warriors from the Legion, chosen by me personally, will be dispatched to attack Hell. This squad, will have a fourfold mission. Their primary objective, will be to discover a way to stop, and or hinder, the creation of the so called 'World Eater Portals'. Which intelligence from our prior campaign in Hell, leads us to believe are vulnerable to sabotage. Their secondary objective, is to hunt down and kill the last two Lords of Hell, decapitating the enemy leadership for the foreseeable future. For their tertiary objective, this team will wage a guerrilla warfare campaign aimed at keeping Hell's attention squarely on them, and insuring they do not attempt to find the rest of the Legion. Ideally, we wish to project the illusion that the remaining members of the Legion are all dead, or at minimum, not the most pertinent threat. However, this team's final and most vital function, will be to permanently repair the natural spacetime distortion allowing the easy creation of portals, artificial and natural, between Hell and Equestri-" Suddenly Luna slammed a hoof on the table, scattering papers and charts in all directions.

"AND TRAPPING THEM THERE!!" She shouted, tears flowing from her eyes. "And do not dare to pretend that thou will not be among them!" Derran gave Luna a seemingly unfeeling look, his tone deathly calm as he replied.

"Yes, I will be team leader. As High Commander of the Legion I am honor bound to-" Luna interrupted with another shout.

"TO TARTARUS WITH THY HONOR!!" She screamed out, putting the full weight of the royal voice into it. Derran's fellow commanders visibly flinched at Luna's angry declaration, though they stayed silent. The concept of honor was everything in the Legion, and to break from it was impossible. In Hell, where nothing held value, a warrior's words and deeds were all he had. Honor and duty, were the only things that had held the Legion together for all the years they had lived in that blasphemous realm. From the least of them, to the greatest, these things were sacrosanct, and to even imply they could be abandoned, treaded dangerously close to insult.  However, even if they were to ignore her station, none of those assembled could have found it in themselves to censure the night princess. All understood how hard this was for Luna, and knew full well what they were asking her and Celestia to sacrifice. Quieting down, Luna's tone was heartrending as she continued. "Thou art. . . thou art the only stallion we have ever loved. . . could ever love!" Derran struggled not to show how he truly felt as he responded, his tone as emotionless as he could make it. 

"You will find another. I am not so unique that I cannot be replaced." Luna's eyes widened in shock at Derran's seemingly heartless words, tears streaming from them as she struggled to reply.

"Replaced. . . ?" She echoed, sounding as fragile as glass. However Derran continued before she could say more. Though he did not show it, every word of what he said next, was as a dagger into his very soul.

"I am a soldier, a mortal, and a sinner, I am unworthy of you. Our love was a dream. . . and one day, you will thank me for waking you from it." Derran spoke mechanically, as though simply reciting a statistic, or summarizing a legal document. Only his fellow commanders and Celestia, could detect the all but unnoticeable tremble in his voice. Luna however, simply stared at Derran, her eyes filled with a pain beyond the power of poet, painter, or playwright to describe. Then, suddenly, her expression seemed to darken, a vicious aura of anger and sadness coloring her words.

"Thou art our only love. . . and we would as soon break this world, as surrender thee!" She hissed, her tone as caustic as acid.

Even Derran seemed surprised at how cold and hateful Luna sounded. Her voice faintly distorted, and seemingly not quite her own. A moment later though, the darkness passed, as she turned and ran sobbing from the room. Derran let out a deep breath, just barely resisting the urge to chase after her. Celestia stared at him, sadness in the eyes of her otherwise immutable expression. She desperately wanted to say something comforting, to tell Derran she understood, and that he had done the right thing. Instead, she simply motioned him to continue, too busy fighting back her own tears to say what she wanted. Nodding, Derran resumed the briefing.

"Phase two of the plan will begin after the fabrication and construction outlined in Phase One are complete, and after the team of volunteers has been dispatched, and the portal . . . permanently sealed." The slight pause just before the words 'Permanently sealed' was the only visible sign of emotion Derran displayed. Clearing his throat, he continued in an almost monotone voice. "In Phase Two, the Legion and various volunteers from Equestria, will construct stasis pods for every soldier we have. These pods will each be sufficient to hold one Legion warrior in full armor and kit, including weapons and ammunition. The pods will then be placed in ten predetermined locations around Equestria, divided up into groups according to Guard affiliation. Each of these locations picked to insure, that no matter where in Equestria a threat might arise, the Legion will be able to respond as swiftly as possible. Additionally, each Guard will be equipped with a single use teleportation device, sufficient to allow the Guard in question, to move themselves anywhere on the planet where there is demonic energy. I must stress however, that these devices, in addition to being extremely hard to manufacture, are highly experimental, thus they will only be used as a last resort. Phase Two will conclude with the stasis pods being placed deep beneath the ground. Once this happens, they will be utterly impossible to find, or access, unless activated. 
As to the activation, it will need to be performed at an as yet unchosen site, where what we have dubbed: 'The Keystone', will be constructed and hidden. Activation must be preformed by either ladies Celestia and Luna, or by an individual or individuals, designated by them via a simple enchantment. Additionally, in the event of either ladies Celestia or Luna's. . . expiration, the activation enchantment will be bestowed upon a randomly selected pony in Equestria, whom the enchantment will automatically make aware of its presence and function." Taking a breath, Derran let it out slowly, despite his best efforts, it was clear to those around him, that he was having a far harder time with this than he was showing.

"And. . . Phase Three?" Celestia asked, still praying to find a flaw she knew didn't exist. Derran took another deep breath as he replied.

"Phase Three, is the final and most vital piece of the operation, and once enacted, will be out of the Legion's hands. In Phase Three, any and all evidence of the Legion's existence, is to be destroyed. Everything from letters and notes, to songs and stories mentioning humans, the Legion, Hell, or anything else related to us, will need to be utterly erased. Additionally, by royal decree, mention of the Legion's existence, even in passing, will be completely forbidden. This will ensure that no one, Equestrian or otherwise, will learn of Hell's existence. Without this knowledge, no individual will be able to open a portal to Hell, or communicate with its masters in any way. Ignorance of the threat will be Equestria's salvation. You cannot open a door, if you do not know the door is there in the first place." As Derran finished, Celestia ran the plan over and over in her head, examining it from every angle, as before however, she found no flaws. Turning to Derran, she struggled to keep her voice steady, and her tears contained, as she gave the order that tore her heart in two.

"Very well then, we give our approval. . . let it be done."

Only now, in the safety and solitude of her private chamber, did Celestia let free her tears. "what have I done?!" The question repeated in her mind over and over, like a mobius strip of sorrow and condemnation. However, no matter how many times Celestia tried to justify her decision on Derran and the Legion's plan, the same horrible answer to her silent queries returned. "You sentenced the stallion you love, to die!" Celestia wanted to believe differently, wanted to believe that somehow, Derran and the five brothers who went with him, would survive a second time. However, she inevitably concluded, that not even the most delusional of ponies would believe so obvious a lie. 

Celestia had tried to force herself to swallow every excuse she could think of. "He and his brothers are the finest soldiers in the multiverse! Surely with their new equipment they could prevail?" This excuse, was easily the most feeble. Their new weapons and armor would be good, but no armor wrought by mortal hooves or hands, was good enough to balance such uneven scales. "Perhaps the mission will be over faster than we think?! They could return to Equestria in a week for all we know!" That idea stood up to barely more scrutiny than the first. The last two Lords of Hell were the first, and the ninth. The ninth Lord was rumored to be more powerful than the other eight combined. Of all the Lords, it was said only the ninth alone, had any true right to the label of 'God'. The Legion had intended to face him last, only because it was believed that, even all together, victory would require the death of every one of them to achieve. On the opposite end of things, the first Lord of Hell had survived both the Legion, and the depredations of other ambitious demons, by hiding, and it was very good at it. The Legion had no idea what the First Lord even looked like. They only knew that the creature had some form of psychic power, that allowed it to control other weak willed demons, and even that much was more speculation than fact. Even if Derran's team managed to find and kill them, the mission would likely take every moment of their renewed lives. Finally, there was the excuse Celestia had clung to, as her last faint shred of hope. "What of the power they used three days ago?! Surely with such might on their side, nothing could stand against them?!" This argument would have been a good one, had Celestia not been an Alicorn.

Alicorn's, like Celestia and Luna, had an inherent connection to all kinds of magic, even those they had never encountered before. It was what had allowed them to join their power to Khamun's to close the portal without needing to know exactly how the spell he was casting functioned. It was also what allowed them to see that the strange power the Legion had accessed on The Day of Wrath, was completely and utterly, spent. Only in Derran and Michael could they find even a trace of the power to analyze, and even within them, the power was equivalent to rapidly dying embers, buried in the ashes of a now deceased bonfire. 

So weak were these traces, that merely the use of a simple scanning spell, had nearly extinguished them entirely. All they had learned, was that it had once been an enormously powerful form of dark magic. Khamun and Magnus had stated it was nearly identical to the ambient mystical energy of Hell. They speculated that the energy had accumulated in the bodies of the Legion over the thirty years they spent in that dark dimension, concentrating it until they experienced a state of despair and rage, great enough, to unleash it all at once. Resulting in them temporarily being imbued with power comparable to that of the Lords of Hell themselves. Why they had never been able to access the energy before now, and why it had never harmed them in any way, despite its nature and origin, Khamun and Magnus could only guess at. They also had no idea why Derran and Michael's power had manifested as such dramatically different colors than every other member of the Legion. Speculating it must be something unique to them, that no magic or science they knew, could identify. Regardless however, the bottom line remained the same for them, as it did the rest of the Legion. They had used up the power, and there was no way to restore it.

Celestia, in the end, was forced to concede, that even if Derran and his team accomplished their mission, they would never return to Equestria. Even if they somehow survived, once the distortion of space that had brought them here was gone, it was gone for good. Even had Celestia known another method to open a portal to Hell, she knew it would cost her far more than she would ever be willing to pay. . . even for the truest love of her eternal life. So she threw herself onto her bed, and cried. Burying her face in a pillow, Celestia wept unashamedly. Until finally, sleep stole her tears from her, and she began to dream. . . .


+++++++


Death. . . Celestia was surrounded by it. In every breath, with every step, and in every molecule of her being. Death saturated every aspect of Celestia within and without. All around her, corpses in their trillions, were piled high as the tallest mountain peaks. Though she was strangely unable to make out their faces, Celestia could easily identify the bodies as pony, griffin, changeling, dragon, and all the other many races that populated Equestria and the lands beyond. Breaking up the abhorrent foothills and mountains, trickles of blood from the nigh infinite number of corpses, joined together to form great rivers of red gore. That, in the distance, Celestia could see flowing into an unholy ocean of dark crimson. 

Celestia moved through this world of horror with wide unblinking eyes. Her fear and sorrow muted, as can only happen in a dream. Pulled with urgent purpose toward a place she could not know, by some inexorable force she could never name. Overhead, the sky was an endless sea of churning black clouds that blotted out almost all light, creating an impression of an eternal dusk. Through the darkness Celestia walked, her hooves moving almost of their own volition, and with an ever increasing speed she could not account for. It felt to her as if leagues flew by in the space of an instant, the vile landscape blurring around her as she moved. Finally, and with an abruptness that would have been quite jarring in the waking world, Celestia stopped. . . .

She had come to a sort of clearing. The mountains of dead parting to reveal cracked grey earth, utterly devoid of life. The area was roughly circular, the landscape seeming to shift like a mirage, and though Celestia was unable to speak to the exact size of the area, it was obviously massive. Strewn about the wasteland clearing, was yet another horror to add to an ever growing list. Human skeletons, thousands of them. . . all in the remains of ornate, hauntingly familiar armor. Were scattered upon the unhallowed earth. Weapons of a design Celestia knew all too well, laying broken and forgotten beside them. Celestia did not need to be a tactician, to see these stallions had died in battle. Their armor and bones bearing the obvious marks of claws, teeth, and hellfire burns. Celestia did not wonder at the scene she was looking upon, as its nature was all too clear. These, were the bodies of the Doom Legion, and this world of death. . . this was Equestria.

Celestia felt silent tears flowing down her cheeks, bowing her head as a sense of grief and rage assailed her, even through the forced ennui of the dreamworld. Had she been in the waking realm, Celestia had no doubt her mind would be in ruins. As it was, she could easily imagine herself thrashing wildly in her bed, her screams echoing throughout the castle. Standing amid the nightmare landscape, Celestia was feeling ever more like a prisoner in her own body. Desperately wishing to react to the unholy visions around her, yet constrained by the damnable forced calm of her sleeping mind. For a moment, she wondered where Luna was. Surely her sister would swoop in at any moment to save her from this torture? Only then did Celestia recall Luna storming out of the meeting earlier. She had likely cried herself to sleep, as Celestia had, or was simply too upset to preform her duties. Celestia was on her own, trapped in a state of emotional imprisonment, As the endless ruin of all she once held dear, was paraded before her. In that state, it took several moments for Celestia to notice, that she was no longer alone.

The figure appeared before her with neither warning nor introduction. Through a heavy robe of pure black silk, all Celestia could see of it, was its generally humanoid outline. With a motion of its arm the figure beckoned to Celestia, its face lost in the shadows of the hood around its head. Celestia wanted to demand the figure's name and purpose, but was unable to do more than raise her head. Before, as though tugged by invisible strings, she fell into step behind the hooded being. Moving through the wasteland clearing that was the only grave the Legion would ever receive, time and distance once more seemed to blur. Had Celestia and her strange guide been traveling for a few moments, or a few days? It was beyond the power of any to say for sure. Regardless, they eventually reached their destination, and Celestia's eyes widened.

There, amid the silent horror of this land of carnage and death, was something that was at once beautiful, and soul crushing. Above, the roiling clouds swirled around a single, perfect circle of open sky. Through which a pillar of pure white light, illuminated a sight that, even though she could not express it, turned Celestia's heart to ash. Bordered by the heavenly beam, was a small hillock, covered in green grass and flowers. There, surrounded by daffodils, violets, and daisies, was the body of Derran Grandel. He lay as if merely sleeping, his sword clasped to his breast, the armor of enchanted steel he wore unmarred, and his helm laying beside his head. He might have been peaceful in his repose, had his face not been twisted by an unspeakable grief. Tears, looking as though shed mere moments ago, lined his face, as a pained grimace forever marred his otherwise handsome features.

Suddenly, as though a switch had been flicked, the invisible dam holding back Celestia's emotions, broke. Feeling as though her heart were being ripped from her chest, Celestia threw herself atop her beloved. Grief, and self loathing, surged within her, as she babbled out incoherent apologies and pleas for him to wake, between sobs of absolute agony. How long she lay there upon the body of her love, Celestia could not have said, only breaking from her misery, when she felt a faint weight upon her shoulder. Whirling around, Celestia was seized by an anger unlike anything she had ever felt before.

"YOU!!" Celestia roared, her voice like a thunderclap, as her mane flared and billowed around her like a multicolored solar flare. "Declare thyself!! Why hast thou brought us here!?" The figure did not speak, nor did it move, utterly unconcerned with Celestia's fury and grief, it stood as if made of stone. "ANSWER US!!" Celestia bellowed, her mane and tale blazing with light in response to her anger. Yet still, the figure did not speak, instead simply gesturing with one shrouded arm, to something behind Celestia. For a moment, Celestia continued glaring at the figure, uncertain if she should turn her back on it. Finally, with a suspicious frown, Celestia slowly turned, to see what the hooded being was gesturing at.

The scene was much the same as before, Derran lying there upon the last living remnant of a now dead world, his expression still twisted with grief, as he held tightly to his weapon. However, he was no longer alone. Assembled around him, were three ponies. Two mares and a stallion, one a unicorn, one a pegasus, and the last, an earth pony. Celestia had no idea who these ponies were, but their presence was nearly overwhelming. . . . 

The unicorn, a mare,  had a mane that was like an ethereal white mist, within which could be seen glowing golden arcane symbols of innumerable types, appearing and disappearing at random. Her coat was a deep purple, that shimmered with a strange energy, and her cutie mark was that of a complex hexagrammic magic circle, done in gold and silver. The pegasus Stallion was lean and muscular, his coat a swirling grey that shifted constantly from purist white, to almost black, as though his coat was a living reflection of all the clouds in the sky. His mane was a brilliant blue, that crackled with faint sparks of electricity, and his cutie mark was an image of a constantly swirling hurricane. The earth pony mare had a deep green mane that was like a tangled mass of vines, and as Celestia watched in awe, flowers blossomed upon it, before falling off and disappearing, only to be replaced by fresh ones. Her coat was a deep red, that seemed to faintly glow, as if every hair was a volcanic cinder. Her cutie mark was a volcano, a beautiful rose blooming out of its crater. Each of these ponies, a study in grace and power, had but one unifying trait. Their eyes, that appeared as little more than pools of blazing rainbow light.

The three ponies gazed down at Derran with gentle smiles, tinged with sadness. As though they already knew exactly who he was, and the hardships he had endured. Then suddenly, the earth pony mare raised her hoof, placing it on Derran's chest.

"With my strength." She intoned, her voice as beautiful as a forest in spring, while still carrying the power of an erupting volcano. Next was the pegasus, repeating the earth pony mare's gesture, he lay his hoof next to hers.

"With my speed." He declared, his voice as delicate as a gentle breeze, yet carrying the low rumble of distant thunder. Next was the unicorn, who's hoof joined her fellows, the gesture reverent and unhurried. 

"With my magic." She declared, her voice echoing as though coming from every direction at once. 

After a moment, the three ponies turned to look expectantly at Celestia. Celestia hesitated for a moment, a thousand nameless fears entering her mind. Then suddenly, her thoughts quieted, as she felt a sensation she could not explain. Somehow, she knew, that this was a turning point in something momentous. Whether for good or ill was yet to be determined, but without question, if she turned away now, the monstrous portents she had witnessed on her way here were not merely a possibility, they were an inevitability. Taking a deep breath, Celestia stepped forward, and placed her hoof with the others.

"With my life." The words were spoken before Celestia even realized she was saying them, and with the completion of the last syllable, Derran's eyes snapped open, and the world exploded in light. . . .

With a gasp, Celestia found herself sitting bolt upright in bed, her eyes wide with fear and wonder. As along with the memory of her strange dream, knowledge. . . ancient and powerful, swirled in her mind. It was the middle of the night, but she hardly cared. Stumbling out of her bedroom, she cursed yet again, the old law that forbid her sharing a room with Derran and Luna before they were wed. Somehow, through a method she would never understand, Celestia found her sister in the castle library, secreted away in their hidden reading alcove. Celestia only vaguely able to recall that this was where Luna always hid when she was feeling low. Bursting in, Celestia began to babble out what had happened like a madpony. 

Describing her dream to Luna took nearly an hour, thanks to her near delirious state, but eventually, Celestia laid it all out. Luna however, eyed her skeptically. Had Celestia been in a more rational state, she might also have noticed her sister's gaze was also a fair bit colder than usual.

"So sister, is there a point to all this? We apologize if our sorrow at the loss of our one true love has prevented thee from getting a good night sleep but-" Luna's acidic comment was interrupted, as Celestia grabbed hold of both her shoulders and shook her.

"Dost thou not understand sister?!!" Celestia declared, almost shouting. "WE CAN DO IT!! HOPE IS NOT LOST!!" Luna, her anger now completely overwhelmed by concern for her sister's sanity. Used her magic to gently, but firmly, remove Celestia's hooves from her shoulders. Reflecting that perhaps Celestia was taking Derran's loss harder than she originally thought, Luna adopted a far more gentle tone.

"Sister, we understand that thou have had a trying night, how about we prepare thee some warm milk and-" Once more Celestia interrupted, smiling like a complete lunatic as she replied.

"Oh Luna you silly, there is no time for warm milk! We must get everything ready! Because our dream showed us how to do it! OUR DREAM SHOWED US HOW TO SAVE DERRAN!!" Luna's eyes widened in shock, all concern gone as she stared at Celestia with rapt attention.

"Tell us everything. . . ."



+++++++


Derran stared out over the assembly of his brothers, their neat ranks the very definition of military discipline. It had been nearly four weeks since he had been given leave to proceed with his plan by Lady Celestia, and since then he had seen precious little of her or Lady Luna. Luna. . . Derran's heart ached when he thought of the last words he had spoken to her. How many times had he awoken in the middle of the night, seized by the urge to go to her? To tell her he hadn't meant a single one of those heartless words. To tell her she and Celestia meant more to him than anything else in all the infinite realms of creation. Only to stop himself just in time, and repeat those same cold words he had spoken to her, like some kind of vile mantra. "Our love was an illusion, I am the Seraph's servant, not their beloved. I was a dalliance, a fling, and that is all I shall ever be." Nearly every night since the meeting, Derran had awoken and told himself this, hoping that given enough time. . . he might believe it.

Now however he refocused himself firmly on the present, the Seraphim sisters had requested that the entire Legion assemble just outside of Bridledown. Not far from the location of the arcane forges the Elder Guard had constructed, with the help of the most brilliant unicorn mages in Equestria, to craft the weapons and armor the Legion would need for their final, and most important, mission. Progress had been excellent so far, already six suits of armor and sets of weapons had been fashioned for Derran and his team. The suits were undergoing final testing now, soon, they would be fully operational, soon, everything would be ready, and Derran and his brothers would leave the gates of heaven behind . . . forever. 

Glancing farther afield, Derran saw the beginning of the area that the Legion had begun referring to as "The Blight". The area where the battle of the Day of Wrath had taken place. The last of the demonic corpses had been burned in mystical fire long ago, and every effort had been made to purify the area. Alas, it seemed that not even the power of the Legion and seraphs combined, could completely erase the taint of the demons. The area was, for the most part, now a stretch of barren earth. Yet to the observant eye, it was clear something was wrong. The few plants that had begun regrowing, were doing so with unnatural speed and vigor. Too, their appearance was ever so slightly twisted, their shadows lengthened, their colors dark and foreboding, and, according to those ponies brave, or foolish enough to try, their taste was vile and bitter. Additionally, the strange plants appeared highly resistant to earth pony magic, and thus all efforts to guide their growth were met with failure. The area affected was small thus far, but the Elder Guard, as well as the unicorn magi studying the phenomena, had stated that the area was expanding at an exponential rate. Even the clouds above had been affected, parts of them hardening in a way that was wholly unnatural, and defying the efforts of even the best trained pegusi to corral them.          

Efforts were underway to create a ward to shield the populated areas of Equestria from the corruption, and Khamun and Magnus had stated that the Blight's potential for growth, while quite large, was not infinite. Still, the knowledge that, even if only in some small way, the demons had marred this holy realm, was yet another weight on Derran's mind.  Shaking his head and letting out a deep breath, Derran ordered his thoughts and saluted, as Celestia and Luna came into view. A moment later, the gesture was repeated by every one of his brothers.


+++++++


Luna tried her best to hold on to the dutiful expression she wore. She felt drained, emotionally and physically. The last four weeks had been spent in feverish preparation for this day, yet she could feel no joy at its coming. Celestia of course, seemed unaffected as always, her kind if weary smile, and aura of beneficence, showing not the slightest blemish. "How surprised thy subjects would be to learn of the poisonous viper behind thy facade!" Luna thought bitterly, before immediately feeling guilty. She was certain her sister was simply hiding her pain, the visage of strength Celestia wore, undoubtedly concealing a hurt no less grievous than Luna's own. Yet still, Luna could not quite extinguish the faint flame of resentment burning in her heart.

When Celestia had stated she had a way to "Save" Derran and his brothers, Luna's heart had leapt. Yet, on hearing the details, she soon realized that the salvation her sister spoke of, in her half awake delirium, was not at all what Luna had envisioned. It would not erase the need for the Legion's plan, nor would it spare Derran from having to go to his all but certain death. Still, Luna could not deny that it would vastly increase the chances that Derran and his brothers would succeed in their mission. Additionally, while Derran's departure could not be prevented, there was at least now a chance, vanishingly small though it was, that he might find a way back to them. Even Celestia had admitted that the odds were infinitesimal, if even they existed at all. Yet, like a drowning pony biting at straws, Luna would take a forlorn hope, over none at all. 

Thus she found herself here, wearing a look of duty and reassurance, as she and her sister presented themselves before the Legion. Even if she had no desire to put on a front for her sister, Luna would do it for them. She needed to be strong for her friends. . . it was the least she owed them. Glancing over at Derran, Luna hoped to see some flicker of the affection they had shared for one another, but to her dismay, all she saw, was the same emotionless expression from four weeks ago. "Derran. . . could thou. . . could thou have truly meant what thou said?" she wondered, a sharp pain in her heart, as Celestia began to speak to the assembled Legion.


"Friends. . ." She began, her steady tone and gentle gaze as unwavering as ever. "we cannot even begin to describe either our gratitude, or our sorrow, at this moment." Celestia paused to take a deep breath, seemingly deciding what to say next. "We wanted so very much for thy journey to be over. Our desire was, that thou should never have to take up arms again. That thy days would be spent in friendship and joy alongside our little ponies. . . ." Here Celestia trailed off for a moment, her mask slipping slightly, as what might have been a tear was hastily hidden from view. "We. . . we are so sorry for this. Thou have already lost so much, and now thou suffer for our sake. Thou give what none have the right to ask, and thou do so freely. . . ." Celestia paused again, appearing to steel herself. "With all our heart, we wish we could find a way to spare thee from this injustice of fate." Here Celestia lowered her head in sorrow, her voice seeming to crack ever so slightly as she continued. "In the short period of thy time with us, thou have become as much a part of our world as if thou had been born here. Thou hath become our friends, our family, and even. . . even our loves." Here Celestia, in a gesture unseen even by Luna, glanced at Derran with a look of true heartbreak in her eyes. Before straightening up, and staring out at ten thousand faces filled with sympathy. 
Though she hid it well, those expressions stabbed at Celestia's heart more than anything else. Even as they lost everything, the Legion cared only for the pain of those around them. What cruel trick was this? That such noble beings be denied their rightful rest? Celestia only barely managed to avoid breaking down. She could not stop what needed to be done, but she could make certain that the Legion would survive, and maybe, someday. . . return home. Her expression determined, Celestia continued. "We have called you here today, because four weeks ago, while in the depths of slumber, we received what we can only describe as a vision." Here a murmur went up from the Legion, that Celestia swiftly silenced with an upraised hoof. "Upon waking, we received knowledge of a spell, one of immense power. Of its effects we know little, despite much research. We know only that it was meant for all of you, and feel it is likely tied to the primal power of Equestria. With all our heart, we believe this spell was meant to help thee through this unspeakable trial." Celestia struggled not to shy away from the stares of the Legion, she knew she was asking them to take a lot of this on just her word. Yet, gazing into the eyes of the humans before her, Celestia could find not even a shred of doubt in any of them. It was in that moment. . . that Celestia's mask finally shattered. Tears streaming from her eyes, as she saw reflected over ten thousand times, naught but purest trust, love, and loyalty. As her mask fell away, Celestia gave voice to her truest feelings.
"How pathetic am I. . ." She asked, tears flowing freely, so overcome with emotion that even her use of the royal 'We' was discarded. "I told thee that thou would have a new home. . . that thou would have thy lives to live again. . . that thy days of battle would be no more!" Celestia choked back a sob as she continued, her voice heavy with self loathing. "Yet now. . . now I stand powerless as I rip all that I promised away from thee! With nothing more than pretty words, and a spell from a dream, to offer in exchange!!" Celestia hung her head once more, gritting her teeth in frustration and anger. "You are fellow Equestrians! As truly as any other of my subjects! Yet it is you alone who must give their lives and homes!! What ruler would allow her ponies to suffer so?!" She cried out, the pain in her voice so intense that even Luna could not doubt her sincerity. "I. . ." She continued, her inwardly directed fury nearly stealing her voice. "am no better. . . than the vile king who opened that portal to Hell in the-"

"NO!" The shout was so powerful, it seemed almost to freeze time. All the world falling to silence, as Derran Grandel stepped forward. "I will not allow such vile slander to be placed upon your name Lady Celestia! Not even by you yourself!" Derran's anger was palpable, as he glared down at Celestia with a gaze that felt as if it pierced her very soul. "To even mention that wretch in the same breath as you or Lady Luna is nothing less than heresy, and I will not stand for it!" Taking a breath, and with his features softening ever so slightly, Derran stood before Celestia, as she looked upon him with an expression of shame. "You ask what manner of leader would ask this of her subjects?" He inquired, letting the question hang in the air, as he looked out at his assembled brothers. "With respect my Lady, that is not the question that ought be asked. . . ." Raising his hand, Derran pointed at one of his brothers at random, his voice becoming one of command as he spoke. "Brother Sathrek! What question would you suppose to ask here?!" Stepping forward at attention, and offering a swift salute, Sathrek's reply came without even a moment of hesitation.

"What man, who finds his home and family under threat, would refuse the call to arms?" Sathrek's reply was utterly devoid of uncertainty, as Derran nodded approvingly.

"Indeed brother. . . what man, who sees the enemy at his door. . . who sees his neighbor's home ablaze. . . who sees his family and friends uncertain and scared. . . what man would not take action?" Derran turned to look once more at Celestia. "Even had we not sworn to defend this land, even were you not the Light's holy children, even had we but fists and rocks to fight with. . . it would change nothing." Taking a breath, Derran looked out over the heads of his brothers, gazing toward the horizon. Gesturing in the direction of the distant and pristine landscape beyond the Blight, Derran continued. "For however long or brief a time, this land is our home. . . and we will defend it, with our lives-no. . . with our very souls!" Derran regarded Celestia with an odd, faraway look in his eyes. "You did not force this choice upon us my Lady. . . for there was no choice to make. Country? King? Glory? These are things that men choose to fight for. . . but home? Family? Friends? These are things men must fight for." Celestia's heart ached, as she stared into Derran's eyes, fighting back new tears as she nodded, her voice a broken whisper as she replied.

"I. . . I do not know if this spell will save you. . . I want to believe it will, but I do not know!" Derran seemed almost serene as he replied.

"I am afraid no spell can offer me salvation." He declared calmly. Both Celestia and Luna did a double take, Derran continuing as if he had not noticed. "Whatever this spell you speak of does, it cannot possibly save me, nor my brothers." Tears once more began to flow from Celestia's eyes, as Luna's expression became like stone. "It cannot save us. . . because we have already been saved." Celestia and Luna's expressions turned to ones of slight confusion, as Derran continued. "When darkness enveloped us. . . when all hope had long been lost. . . when the icy fingers of death itself scratched at our heels. It was not your magic that saved us, not truly. . . it was you." Stepping back, Derran fell to one knee, head bowed and an arm across his chest, with his clenched fist over his heart. Then, before the eyes of the two princesses, the entire Legion mirrored Derran's movements, the gesture so smooth it was as if they had practiced it a thousand times before. Till Celestia and Luna looked out over a veritable sea of abject veneration. "When your faith in yourself wavers, know that ours shall always be true. Yours is the word of the seraphim, the word of the Light itself, If you say this spell will aid us, then it will. Bestow your blessing my Ladies, and know that no matter the outcome, our faith shall not waver." As Derran finished, Celestia glanced at Luna. For a moment, Luna simply stood there, as though digesting Derran's words, before finally giving a nod. Turning back to Derran and the Legion, Celestia took a deep breath.

"Then. . . let us begin." Her reply was stoic, but inside Celestia's mind, was a maelstrom of emotion. So many things running through her head she wanted to say to Derran. That she loved him, that she would have happily traded her life to spare him the horror he would soon be thrown to, that she deserved neither his faith nor his loyalty, that he should tell Luna the truth of his cruel words from before, and, perhaps most selfish of all. . . that she did not wish him to go. That last realization was the hardest, Celestia wanted to scream out to Derran, to beg him not to leave her, to speak of the family she and Luna wished to create with him. . . but she could not. Silencing her mind, Celestia once more played the role expected of her as a leader. . . as she and Luna lit their horns. 

Instantly, the atmosphere changed, a feeling like a static charge filled the air, as the gentle morning breeze grew in strength and intensity to a full blown wind. Celestia and Luna's horns grew steadily brighter, as they sought to tap the very depths of their magical power. Overhead, storm clouds began to form, announcing themselves with great peals of thunder and brilliant flashes of lightning. Beneath the Legion's feet the earth began to tremble, grass and plants suddenly growing with unnatural speed to gently wrap around their legs, like vines clinging to ancient trees. The charge in the air grew greater, till an aura of beautiful violet energy formed around every member of the Legion. Through it all, Celestia and Luna's horns glowed with ever greater intensity. Celestia's golden magic field flared as if alive, becoming so bright that to look at it directly, was to risk ones eyes. Luna's energy began to resemble nothing so much as a blue and purple nebula, flares of light, as bright as stars in the night sky being born within it before dying just as swiftly. Overhead, the fully formed storm roared, lightning striking the ground around and between the soldiers of the Legion, as the earth's tremble became a full blown shaking. The aura of violet energy around the Legion began to shimmer and change, becoming a rainbow of hues, its light growing ever brighter. The eyes of the Legion became as pools of blue light, flickering like a flame. Their veins were clearly visible beneath their skin, illuminated as though pure electricity ran through them. Massive phantom tendrils emerged from their backs, their color a brilliant searing white, save for Michael and Derran, who bore gold, and deep ebon black respectively. 

Celestia and Luna channeled still more power into the spell, drawing from reserves they never knew they had, energy flowing from them like a river from a breached dam. Above the Legion's heads, appeared a massive circle of magic, drawn in lines of glowing fiery red, electric blue, and sunset purple. Runes not even Celestia and Luna could translate appeared between the lines, as they roared the completion phrase for the spell, their voices drowning out even the thunder overhead.

"CIVITATUM NOS STARE!!!"

All at once, two beams of purist gold and darkest blue, connected Celestia and Luna to the circle overhead, while a bolt of lightning as thick as a redwood struck the exact center. From the circle, a beam of power descended, to bathe every member of the Legion in brilliant white light. As the world vanished in the actinic glare, a single tear fell from Celestia's eye. Speaking in a voice too quiet to be heard, she let out a prayer to she knew not whom.

"This. . . is all I can do. Please, please, let it be enough!"

As the glare faded, Celestia and Luna felt their energy plummet. Stumbling, they only just managed to keep their hooves, staying conscious by dint of sheer will. They were determined to see what had happened. Little by little, the shapes of the men resolved themselves, as kneeling outlines amid a rapidly fading etheric mist. A feeling of immense power, beyond anything they had ever encountered in any being save themselves, washed over Celestia and Luna. As Slowly, the figures in the mist stood, and before the princesses awestruck faces, the fog parted. . . and the Legion was revealed.

Their clothes were shredded to near the point of disintegration. Eldritch lightning crawled across their forms, as wisps of ethereal flame clung to their bodies. However, beneath those ribbons of cloth, was a sight to steal the breath. Whatever minor physical weakness's that once could be spotted on the bodies of the Legion, were now utterly gone. Their corporeal forms now at a level that no athlete, soldier, or bodybuilder, could ever approach in a thousand lifetimes. They stood tall, even the faintest sign of fatigue having utterly vanished, as though sleep and exhaustion were something they had left behind. 

Derran stepped forward, taking a breath, his eyes flickered from Celestia to Luna and then back, his head shifting slightly, as if his already razor sharp senses were providing him with more information than even he was accustomed to. Flexing his right hand and lower arm, Derran seemed almost afraid, as he stared at his now flawless limb.         

"Did. . . it work? Please. . . tell us it worked." Luna all but begged through her exaustion. Derran did not reply, staring at them in silence for a moment, as if in some form of trance. Suddenly he turned and walked a short distance away, to an errant boulder sticking out of the ground. For a moment, he stared at the piece of granite, his expression becoming one of intense concentration. Then, before either princess could speak so much as a single word, Derran pulled back his fist, and struck the boulder with every ounce of his strength. The chunk of protruding rock was approximately the size of Derran himself, and at least a foot thick. Even for one as strong as Derran, it should have shattered his hand and arm beyond repair. Instead. . . Derran's fist went straight through. The boulder exploding into dust and fragments, as though it were but cheap plaster struck by a cannon ball. Turning back, Derran gave a small smile, as he displayed his completely uninjured hand.

"Yes my Ladies. . . I believe it did." Finally, with an exhausted smile and a grateful sigh, Celestia and Luna at last gave into their bodies demands, and collapsed. Unconscious as they were, they did not see Derran sprint a distance of over fifteen feet, his body little more than a blur of movement, to easily catch them before they hit the ground. Nor did they see, as he and Michael each lifted one of them as if they weighed no more than a feather, and carry them without so much as an errant breath to their bedchambers, just under a mile and a half away. . . .


+++++++


Derran stared at himself in the full length mirror before him. His new armor fit him well. Done in the ancient style of the Night Sentinels order, it belied its antiquarian appearance by being one of the strongest and most versatile designs of powered armor ever created. Utilizing a fusion of Equestrian magic and D'nurian mage tech, it made even his old suit of Mega Armor look like a child's toy.

Appearing outwardly as nothing so much as a suit of full plate from the distant past, the symbol of the Doom Slayer upon the right breast its sole ornamentation. The Mk 3 Angelus Armor, Night Sentinel pattern, was a true marvel. The outer shell was composed of a new formula of magesteel, that was stronger than the armor of a tank, while still being light as a feather. The shell was mounted on a full-body suit of adaptive self repairing, enchanted nano fiber, that was stretched over a flexible skeleton of strength enhancing fiber bundles, granting a farther boost to the wearer's now demigod-like strength and speed. The armor was also enchanted to resist and repel all forms of damage and environmental strain, including extreme heat, cold, and even magic, radiation, and acid. 

Turning from the mirror, Derran picked up his helmet off a nearby table. He gave a weak smile as he considered for the hundredth time, how much its design reminded him of a bucket. His smile soon faded however, as he stared into the thin, black crescent visor. The helmet, much like the armor it went to, was far more impressive than it's appearance suggested. The internal systems providing everything from the ability to see in complete darkness, ultraviolet, and infrared, to allowing its wearer to view a constantly updating three dimensional map, of everything up to nearly a half mile in every direction.

Together, the helmet, armor, and Derran's newly minted blast rifle, blast pistol, and hard-light energy sword, represented the greatest weapons Equestria, and humanity, had ever produced.

"Humanity. . . ." Derran trailed off as he held up the hand he had, not so long ago, used to shatter a boulder into pieces. It had not taken long after receiving the Seraphim's blessing, for the Legion to realize that it had done far more than enhance their strength and speed. Derran had not slept in over a week, yet still felt as rested and alert as if he had gotten a full night's rest. He had not eaten, nor drank, anything in nearly three days, yet felt no more hungry or thirsty than if he had dined an hour or two ago. Additionally, the last time he had rested, he had gone to sleep after cutting his hand rather badly while examining his new sword, only to awake and find the wound gone. Only a nearly invisible white line, indicating it had ever even existed at all. "Am I still human?" Derran wondered aloud.

Shaking his head, Derran dismissed that line of thinking. He had lost his humanity long before he had ever even met the Seraphs. Besides, after living in the society of the Seraphim and their children, he had come to realize how little humanity humans actually possessed. Magnetically locking his helmet to his waist, Derran glanced around the room that had been his home for nearly a year. Before his eyes, he replayed the memories of the nine months he had spent in blissful joy with Celestia and Luna. 

There were the three chairs by the window where they had drank tea, and read stories of romance and adventure to each other. . . the large couch in front of the fire, where they had held one another close as Celestia and Luna formed images of beauty and wonder in the flames using their magic. . . the bed, where they had fallen asleep in each others arms. . . . Narrowing his gaze, Derran dismissed the memories, crushing them down into his subconscious with a vicious finality. The memories meant nothing, the pain in his heart. . . meant nothing.

"It was a dream. . . ." Derran intoned, refusing to acknowledge the tears his body desperately wanted to unleash. "It is time to wake up." He growled, as he reminded himself of his duty, of his true purpose.

"My Lord?" Turning, Derran met the gaze of Michael Santius as he stood in the door frame. Though his voice was steady, Michael could not fully conceal the sorrow in his eyes, as he continued. "They are waiting." Derran nodded, slowly turning to face his oldest and most loyal friend and comrade. Looking past his lord's shoulder, the sadness in Michael's eyes grew still greater. "Do you. . . require a bit more time?" Derran hesitated a moment, on the verge of saying yes, but then thought better of it. There was nothing left for him in this room, save ghosts and pain, delaying the inevitable would not change that.

"No brother. . . I am finished." Derran replied, as he moved past Michael and out into the hall. Falling in behind his lord, Michael was surprised when he abruptly stopped.

"Brother Santius. . . Michael?" Michael's eyes widened slightly at his lord's use of his first name. As a rule, Derran only called him that when it was particularly important.

"Yes my Lord?" Michael replied, his tone and expression neutral.

"There is something I wish to ask of you. . . something personal." Michael stayed silent, waiting for his lord to continue.

"I am leaving Unmaker here." Derran declared, still keeping his back to his lieutenant. Michael nodded, despite the ache he felt in his heart at doing so. He of course had objections, many of them in fact, but none that he could describe as anything other than selfish. Still, he couldn't help the words that came next.

"I do not suppose there is any way I could make you reconsider?" Derran kept his back turned as he replied, his tone stern. 

"There is not, we cannot afford the loss of any of the Hellbanes, and to be blunt. . . we both know this mission is not the kind you return from." Michael struggled to keep his voice steady as he replied, still attempting to protest, despite his conviction not to.

"But my Lord, the Seraphs-" Derran cut him off with a raised hand as he continued. 

"I know when I first asked you to take up my mantel, you refused. That is why I am not asking this time. You, Michael Santius, are, in the event the Legion is awakened and I am not there, hereby ordered to assume command of the Legion as the new Doom Slayer. Do you understand?" Michael hesitated, a sick feeling in his gut staying his words, as he finally internalized the reality of things. His mentor, and dearest friend, the man who had shaped him from a child of privilege into a leader of armies. Who, despite tragedy, horror, and madness, had been his guiding light through thirty years of unending warfare and death, was leaving him behind.  

"I. . . " Michael began, before Derran interrupted.

"Do you understand!" Derran barked, silencing Michael's unspoken objection. Swallowing, Michael tasted ashes in his mouth as he replied.

"Yes, my Lord. . . I understand." Taking a deep breath, Derran nodded to himself.

"Good, then here is my request. . . my last request." Michael stiffened, despite knowing all of this was coming, it still felt like a punch to the gut.

"I am listening my Lord." He stated, only barely managing to keep his voice steady. Turning to face Michael, Derran stared into his eyes, and Michael nearly gasped. He had never, in all the years they had fought together, seen his lord look so. . . vulnerable. His expression looked utterly exhausted, in a way Michael couldn't even begin to describe, and within the icy blue orbs that were his eyes, was a nameless look of fear he would never have imagined the Doom Slayer capable of.

"When I am gone, and should you awaken. . . please brother. . . promise me. . . promise me, that you will keep Luna and Celestia safe." Michael took a deep breath before nodding.

"On my life. . . and with my soul." Michael replied. Derran nodded, the look of vulnerability his face had held, vanishing beneath the expression of the unflinching soldier. Turning away once more, Derran resumed walking.

"Then let us be about this." He declared, his voice a cold whisper.


+++++++


The ponies of the town of Bridledown waited, and watched. From sidewalks, from atop carts and piled boxes, and from rooftops. Normally, on a day such as today, shops would be open, streets would be bustling, and a smile would adorn every face. . . but not today. Today the shops were empty, the windows of every home dark, and signs reading "Closed" were hung on the door of every business. The sidewalks were full, but the streets themselves were barren, devoid of any form of life. As if even the birds and insects could sense what was happening, and were keeping a respectful distance. From the sidewalks, lined with unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies, no smiles came. Only looks of sorrow, and silent tears.

Many of those present held single red roses or pale white lilies, clutched to their chests with one hoof, some carried entire bouquets. Others had hung banners displaying the symbol of the two sisters alongside symbols of the ancient kingdoms of D'nur. Those ponies who had come in clothes, had all dressed in black, the mares wearing dark dresses and gossamer veils, while the stallions were done up in black frock coats worn over black waistcoats. The sky above was dark grey, the pegasus weather teams having decided that for this day, even the sky itself should wear the colors of mourning. Many of those assembled had been waiting since before sunrise, having got up extra early to insure everything was ready.

This day had been dreaded, ever since the princesses had explained the Legion's plans, and why they were necessary. Before the Day of Wrath, there might have been those who doubted the implementing of such measures, but not now. The events of that terrible day, had shown all of Equestria the horrors beyond the veil of what they knew as reality. The citizens of Bridledown, would never again be able to doubt the existence of absolute evil. Of monsters that gazed across the cosmos with hateful eyes, and that dreamed of the ruin of existence itself. However, just as they now knew the true face of evil, so did they know that there existed champions to fight it.

The Legion. . . in the world's hour of greatest need, they had stood as a shield against the darkness. In the face of hopeless odds, these soldiers from another world, had not hesitated to place themselves between their new home, and the abominations spawned in the heart of damnation. It should have been reassuring, a moment of heroic triumph. In a just and fair multiverse, no more should have been required of the saviors of Equestria. However, as the ponies of Bridledown now knew, the infinite realms beyond their own, had little interest in justice or fairness. And so, today, the ponies stood and watched in misery, as what little the Legion had left to give, was offered up in the name of their salvation.     

It began with the doleful tolling of the town bell. Usually used to ring in festivals, weddings, or other happy tidings, now it sounded a cry of sorrow. On the tenth toll, one for each Guard of the Legion, a procession emerged from the gates of the castle. First to emerge were Celestia and Luna. Like the ponies who lined the street, the princesses were dressed in funerary attire. Each having discarded their royal regalia in favor of dresses of ebon black, and veils of midnight lace, that did little to hide their pained expressions. Flanking them, were two members of the Legion, each bearing a flag. 

Moving in lockstep with the princesses, the soldier at Luna's side was resplendent in heavy golden armor, emblazoned with the symbol of the sun, his helm bearing a T-shaped visor, and with a decorative crest created with plumes of stiff bristles, enchanted to resemble the shifting colors of Celestia's mane. The flag the golden warrior carried was emblazoned with the symbol of the two sisters, below which was written: 月をたたえ. Though none of the ponies could read the symbols, they knew it meant: 'Praise the Moon', in the ancient language of Shido. Conversely, the soldier at Celestia's side was dressed in armor of midnight black, and of a design featuring overlapping plates on the shoulders, thighs, and helmet. The helmet visor was in the shape of a monstrous snarling face, and the chest plate proudly displayed a crescent moon, in beautiful mother of pearl. The flag he bore also depicted the symbol of the united princesses, but beneath it were the words: Ave Solis, or 'Hail the Sun' in the language of Izulos. The juxtaposition of Celestia and Luna's personal warriors, was intended to send a message of unity, that Celestia and Luna each worked in conjunction, neither more or less important than the other. However, as the princesses passed their subjects, it felt as if the only thing currently uniting the princesses, was their grief.

Next to come were the flags of the ten Guards of the Legion, each held by an armored warrior of the Guard to which the flag belonged. Past the assemblage of ponies was paraded the hammer and anvil of the Iron Guard, the Ouroboros of the Elder Guard, the eye and hand of the Shimmer Guard, the burning spear of the Zulu Guard, the thunderbird of the Ghost Guard, the wolf's head of the Glacier Guard, the sea serpent of the Scarlet Guard, and the sign of the Armageddon Guard, who's flag bore the personal rune of the Doom Slayer. Only the Solar and Lunar Guard flags were immediately familiar to the crowd, as they had each discarded their original heraldry, in favor of their mistresses cutie marks.

However, in truth, all this pageantry was lost on the ponies, as the figures of the ones they had truly come to see, resolved themselves. In total, there were six of them, each clad in identical Night Sentinal pattern armor, polished to a mirror finish, their helmets held under one arm as they marched forward. 

Derran, better aware than any, of the suicidal nature of the task his team would face, had declared he would only accept volunteers to accompany him. Yet, the instant the call had gone out, every member of the Legion, bar none, had come running to put forth their names. In the end, at the suggestion of Michael, the decision had been made by lottery. 'Let the Light choose its champions,' he had declared. Derran had agreed, but only under the condition that the commanders and lieutenants of the Legion, withdraw their names. They were already forfeiting one commander, he would not allow the loss of a second.

It had taken nearly two days to organize the choosing. Each Legion member putting their name on a piece of paper, that was then placed in a massive pocket of swirling air created with magic. When finally all the names had been put forth, Derran had plucked the chosen five from the vortex one by one, and read them aloud. 

First to be chosen was Jack Cawl, a member of the Scarlet Guard, who had once fought and bested three hell knights while waist deep in a river of blood. Next was Kawi Brightriver, of the Ghost Guard, and Yomi Kiagawa of the Lunar Guard. Alone on a scouting mission, Kawi had made his name known by managing to kill over one hundred demons, using nothing but a bow, a quiver of fifty arrows, and a demon bone hunting ax. Yomi, meanwhile, was famed for having taken down two barons of hell at once, with only a dagger. After them came Beroghar Firefist of the Glacier Guard, who was renowned for being the man who killed one of the bodyguards of the fifth Lord of Hell, using nothing but bare fists. Finally was Unaka Kasawa, of the Zulu Guard, who had personally put out the eye of the eighth Lord of Hell with a single spear throw, while at the same time locked in close combat with a mancubus.

These were the deeds these men were famous for in the Legion, but the ponies of Bridledown knew them for other reasons. Jack had become known as something of a handymare, and many in the town had stories of how he had fixed something they had thought hopelessly broken, for next to nothing. In his spare time, Kawi had taught groups of foals basic survival skills, and even occasionally took them out on camping trips, after which they talked their parents and friends ears off with details of what he had taught them. Yomi was beloved for his skill at cooking, and had single hoofedly transformed a failing restaurant into a local sensation, by making various dishes from his homeland. Beroghar was a lovable bear of a stallion, who always had a story to tell, and a laugh that never failed to make ponies smile, he also made the most incredible wood carvings anypony had ever seen. Unaka had a knack for writing poetry, and his verse and smile had captured the attention of many a young mare. To the residents of Bridledown, these men were not warriors of legend, nor even saviors of the land, they were friends, neighbors, family. As they moved past the ponies who knew them best, the sound of tears being shed became an ever present refrain. 

Slowly, the grim procession marched through the streets and out of the town, the ponies on the streets falling in behind as they passed. No human, nor pony, spoke a word, as they headed toward the Blight, where waited the rest of the Legion. Standing at attention, the soldiers of the Legion stood side by side in two great blocks of five thousand strong, each separated into further blocks of one thousand by Guard affiliation, and parted into groups of five hundred on either side of the path. Creating a corridor leading to the processions ultimate destination, a raised wooden platform. . . where the portal to Hell would be opened. 

Dressed in black mourning attire, few of the Legion soldiers yet bore armor or weapons. As even after many weeks of work through day and night, they had only managed to produce about one hundred or so suits of armor, and about twice that number of various weapons. It was a minor miracle they even had that many, given the designs of everything had to be redone from the ground up, to account for the Legion's now superhuman strength and speed. Still, even devoid of the armor and trappings of warriors, none could deny the nearly overwhelming presence exuded by every one of them. As the procession passed by the individually assembled Guards, their members, in perfect sync, brought their arms up to place their fists over their hearts in the Legion salute.

As the procession ascended the simple wooden steps to the top of the platform, they were greeted by Michael Santius and the nine remaining Legion commanders, dressed in the traditional funerary garb for each of their lost homelands. Each offered a quick bow to the princesses, however Celestia and Luna barely acknowledged the gesture as they approached. Parting from their flag carriers to stand alongside Michael in front of the other Commanders, the princesses took up position, before observing the rest of the group take their places. Next to come were the Legion standard bearers. Splitting into two groups with almost unearthly precision, they stood along the edges of the platform facing out toward the crowd, their flags held out before them at a perfect forty five degree angle. Last to come, were the six chosen warriors. Filing past Derran in silence, Jack, Kawi, Yomi, Beroghar, and Unaka formed a line before the princesses, Michael, and their Commanders. Then, as if following some invisible cue, both they and Derran, fell to one knee, bowing their heads and placing their fists over their hearts in the Legion salute, before rising and turning to face the crowd. 

Both pony and Legion fixed their gazes on Derran, as he moved to stand in front of his team, expecting him to give a speech, to have some words to assuage the sorrow of those he was soon to leave behind. Derran had many times throughout his tenure as the high commander of the Legion, given innumerable such speeches. Whether to inspire before a battle, commemorate a victory, or morn a fallen comrade, he had always managed to find the words necessary to stir the hearts of those around him. Yet. . . as he stood there, the crowd before him waiting expectantly, all that could be heard, was silence. . . .


+++++++


Derran, at first, could not have said what was wrong. What it was about the scene before him that felt so utterly and inescapably alien. Everything thus far had gone exactly as intended. Reinforcing the idea of this being a permanent parting, and thus allowing the ponies they were leaving behind to properly grieve and move on with life, had been Derran's own idea, and he could hardly have wished it to go better. Ponies were all expressing their sorrow, many weeping openly, and all others were struggling to put on a brave face. Their grief was clear, and Derran had not even started the goodbye speech he had written, and spent a week fine tuning, for exactly this moment. Everything was going according to plan. . . so why did the sight before him seize his throat, and cause his words to turn to dust on his lips? Then, quite suddenly, it dawned on him. The source of his disquiet laid bare in the form of a revelation as vile as it was damming. This. . . was not Equestria. . . this. . . was not his new home. 

The Equestria Derran loved was not a place of misery or grief, filled with the cries of the forlorn and heartbroken! It was not a place of dark skies, dower dress, and quiet misery, and it most certainly was not a place for tragic partings! Yet. . . in his effort to help the ponies accept the loss of their new friends and family. . . that is precisely what Derran had made it. As this horrid realization traveled through Derran's mind, he felt an indescribable self loathing well up within him. How he could have, even in ignorance, committed such a blasphemy he would never be able to say. He had taken something beautiful and pure, and twisted it, forced it into a shape it was never meant to hold. Already Equestria and the citizens of Bridledown were near the edge of despair, and in his callousness, he may yet have pushed them over the brink. 

Derran had lived long without hope, and only after it was returned, did he understand, how unforgivably cruel a fate that was. . . . The ponies needed to see this sacrifice for what it was, a noble act of faith, a temporary pain that would serve a greater good. It was with no small degree of horror, that Derran realized his idiocy might have endangered the entire plan. Only if the ponies had hope, would they keep the secret of the Legion willingly. Despair would undoubtedly, whether as a result of grief inspired rebellion or altruistic desire to honor the Legion's sacrifice, cause them to break the vow of secrecy. Only hope could persuade them to keep faith with the idea that this dark moment, would be worth the pain. 

In his heart, Derran felt his misery turn to an iron resolve, as he realized what must be done. Long had he been a symbol for the Legion. As the Doom Slayer he was a symbol of fear, a symbol of fury, a symbol of victory and the resilience of mankind. . . but never one of hope. He had never sought to be such a symbol, nor the right to claim to be such. He was not like the seraphim, he was a monster, a beast, a sinner beyond redemption, a force of vengeance and destruction. Hope had been only an illusion to him, for the Doom Slayer knew only rage and malice. Even now, he could feel his sorrow and rage, boiling just below the surface. Rage at fate for its cruelty, at the demons for despoiling this holy place with their presence, and at himself, for even now. . . refusing to apologize to Luna. The Doom Slayer was not a hero, the path he walked could never allow him to be such a thing. However. . . today, if only this once. . . if only for the seraphim and their children, whom had given him so much, despite all that he was. . . if only for them, today he would, for just a moment, play the hero. Today, the Doom Slayer, would bring hope. . . .

"My brothers. . . tell me. . . do you remember, on the day we defeated Etzarak. . . the song we sang?" The question was greeted with curious expressions from his brothers, as he continued speaking. "We had just finished collapsing his tower, only to see a demon host in the hundreds of thousands on the horizon. We were weaker back then, and civilian militia outnumbered soldiers three to one. To be free of our pursuers, we would need to break through them. Morale was high among the soldiers, but many of the militia were still afraid. So many demons, far more than we had ever encountered before, and while back then we had far more men in our ranks, we still were outnumbered." Derran paused as his brothers nodded, some even smiling faintly, as Derran continued to recall the memory. "We had bloodied the enemy in a way they could scarcely imagine. One of the Lords of Hell, a supposed living god, lay dead at the feet of mortals." More smiles appeared, as the somber mood gave way to a flicker of pride. "Hell sought to punish us, and sent a punitive force to overwhelm us. The militia were afraid. Many ready to break and run, certain our end had come. . . and then. . . then our brothers in the Glacier Guard began to sing. That song, an ancient marching hymn from Odinia, it put fire in the hearts of militia and soldier alike! As rain against stone did the last vestiges of our fear flow off of us! We charged into battle, the song on the lips of every man, woman, and child within the newly christened Legion!" A smattering of cheers were heard, as Derran's gaze and words were filled with a fierce and powerful energy. "We fought! Our ferocity a thing to behold! For every one man we lost, the enemy lost ten! With spell and blade we carved our way through the enemy ranks!! And even as our brothers and sisters died, they sang the song! Roaring it to the sky! Daring all the Lords of Hell to try to silence us! Screaming out to all of existence that the last sons and daughters of D'nur would not! Now or ever! GO SILENTLY INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT!! " This declaration was met with loud cheers and enthusiastic shouts of approval. "My brothers! Today we depart the Gates of Heaven, and I see fear and sorrow upon the face of all those we leave behind! The shadows of the unknown nip at their hooves, and threatens to steal the smiles from those we love!" A deafening roar of anger and outrage greeted this pronouncement, as Derra raised his voice still higher. "Sing with me my brothers! Sing with all your heart and soul!! Sing till the heavens shake and the earth trembles! Till the Darkness itself recoils in terror!! Sing my brothers, and let this world know, let all worlds know, that hope: IS NOT! YET! LOST!!" A roar of assent greeted this pronouncement, as Derran began the song. . . .

Song: Die With Honor by Manowar

As the song's lyrics washed over them, the ponies of Equestria stood in awe. Never in their lives had they heard a song of such power or conviction. As the rest of the Legion lent their voices to the chorus, the feeling only grew greater. As the song went on, ponies felt their spirits lift, as an aura of might and conviction blazed out from the Legion to envelop them, and for a moment, everything changed. For that one instant, the ponies felt as the Legion did, and sorrow and pain were made irrelevant, in the face of an overwhelming pride. And in that pride, the ponies found their hope.

As the song went on, ponies and legion alike sang out, their voices shattering the early morning quiet in its entirety. Derran, standing atop the platform raised his fist to the sky, the clouds above him parting as though afraid of the thunderous voices beneath. A pillar of purest sunlight broke through to shine on Derran, and then rapidly expanded to encompass the entire Legion, and their pony allies. The song growing ever greater in volume as, unnoticed by all but a few, a strange shimmer, like waves of heat, began forming around the Legion warriors. As if in response to the soaring emotions, and echoing hoof stomps, the shimmer expanded, to a form that, in a certain light, made it seem as if all within the Legion, bore translucent feathered wings. Yet few were those who noticed, as the assembled crowd screamed their fury to the heavens.


Fearless hearts!
Filled with pride!
Into glory we shall rise!
     

As the song ended, the ponies hearts blazed with a certainty that they could not account for. They would, now and always, shed tears for those they lost this day, but no more would they despair. One day, long in the future, the Legion would return. On Equestria's darkest day, when generations of future ponies cried out in fear and terror. When finally the day came when an evil arose that Equestria could not defeat alone. When all the world cried out for a savior, the Legion would return. In fire and glory, they would rise, and all that was evil in this world and beyond. . . would know their wrath. This the ponies knew with absolute certainty, and as the song ended, they joined the Legion, roaring their defiance to the uncaring multiverse. . . .


I'LL DIE FIGHTING WITH MY BROTHERS SIDE BY SIDE!!



+++++++


Celestia stared at the now open portal that swirled before her. At the center of several circles of glowing D'nurian runes of warding, it was of a different cast than the one created by the demons. Being only a foot taller than Derran himself, and having the appearance of an ovoid tear containing a swirl of red and black energy. The border was a line of blue lightning and green floating runes, that crackled and pulsed faintly. The opening itself had been surprisingly simple, taking only a few minutes of her, Luna, Khamun, and Magnus channeling their magic into the location of the spacetime distortion. After nearly a week of the Elder Guard, and scores of unicorn magi casting spells of warding, concealment, and protection, Celestia had expected it to take longer.

The sealing would be nearly as simple, once on the other side, Derran need only utilize a specially prepared 'Sealing Crystal' and the portal would close. The distortion fixed, and the fabric of reality healed over, like a mere paper cut. After that, the creation of a portal would be impossible without the proper rituals, and even then, only from outside of Hell. Not even the Legion had ever uncovered the exact nature of the rituals Hell gave to its unwitting cats paws in other realities. Though what little they did know, suggested that opening even a small portal, required the sacrifice of dozens, if not hundreds, of souls in order to accomplish. 

As she watched, the six armored figures of Derran and his team assembled before the open portal. Derran alone going unhelmeted, the rune encrusted jade sphere that was the sealing crystal, tucked under one arm. He would go last, as a matter of security, the others establishing a beachhead to guard him as he activated the crystal. As Celestia watched, the first pair of warriors entered. Jack and Beroghar, each offering a salute to Celestia and Luna, before hefting their weapons, and entering the portal. A faint snapping noise accompanied their disappearance, as the next pair repeated the gesture. Yomi and Unaka were next to go, followed by Kawi, till finally, only Derran remained. However, as he moved into position, and prepared to enter, Celestia spoke.

"Derran. . ." Pausing in mid-stride, Derran looked at her with a blank expression. Every fiber within Celestia's being once more screamed at her to beg Derran not to go, to plead with him to send somepony else, however, as ever, she knew she could not. So she contented herself with giving him a last sign of her and Luna's affection. A hope that, even if it could never be fulfilled, she could not leave unsaid. "If. . . when, the day of thy return comes, thou shall stand with us and our sister not as our Guardian or beloved. . . but as our king!" For a moment, Derran's expression registered surprise, as his gaze flicked between Celestia and a frantically nodding Luna.

"We shall never surrender our dream!" Luna declared, her voice trembling slightly with a faint note of desperation, as tears flowed freely from her eyes.  


A brief look of uncertainty passed across Derran's face, before turning to a sad smile, as he gave Luna a nod. It had been foolish for him to believe he could drive Luna away. She was the seraphim of the night, dreams were her domain. If she wished to cling to this one, who was he to gainsay her? Still, he knew time would inevitably do, what his coldness and distance, could not, and one day she would realize the truth. Fastening his helmet in place, Derran struggled not to say the words he knew Luna wished to hear. Derran would let her keep her dream, but he would not feed a delusion, even if he desperately wanted too. The Doom Slayer must live in reality, must confront the harsh cruelties of the truth. He would never return to this land. . . he would die in Hell. Stepping forward, he resisted the urge to look back over his shoulder as the portal swallowed him up. Praying to the Light that when Luna finally realized the truth, that her beautiful heart, would not remain broken.

Yet even as Derran had that thought, and the Legion and ponies roared their goodbyes, Luna felt something deep within her being shift. She hid it as best she could, determined to believe in the vision she held in her head, of her beloved's return. However, even as she did so, a feeling of immense loneliness and anger assailed her, and, as she looked at Celestia, to see her face set, and her expression cold as she struggled to stay strong. A terrible venomous thought from the darkest reaches of Luna's mind, seemed to hiss in her ear. "Ignorant foal. . . he will never return. And now, thanks to Celestia. . . you will be alone forever." Luna forced the thought down, recognizing it for the lie it was. She was not alone, she had her sister, her subjects, and one day, Derran would return. Yet still, even as the thought receded, Luna could not help but wonder. . . . 


+++++++


The demons snarled and snapped at each other as they crawled up the hill. Primitive in thought, but advanced in cunning, the large group of imps, pinkys, and gargoyles had been drawn to the area by a scent that made their mouths water. Mortal souls, tinged lightly with sorrow, yet filled with duty, hope, and the faint, spicy, underlying aroma of guilt, and sin. Scrabbling to the summit of the hill, composed in equal parts living flesh and bone dust, the demons glared down the other side at a strange assembly. Six heavily armed humans, gathered around a swirling vortex of red and black energy, through which wafted the utterly irresistible scent of unsullied innocence and purity. The smell instantly sent the group of demons charging down the hill, clouds of bone ash and dust billowing around them as they advanced toward the six mortals at a frenzied pace. Only to suddenly stop dead, twenty meters from the closest of them.

A chill of something the demons could not quite recognize suffused their bodies, as they stared at these six mortals. Deep within them, a sense of faint familiarity surfaced, as they noted the shining armor the figures were garbed in. By all rights the Demons should have been charging forward without any thought, save that of tasting mortal flesh and souls once again, yet something stayed their advance. Halting them as surely as a wall of iron. 

Facing out in a semicircle, five of the mortals stood with weapons ready, as the sixth faced the portal. In his hands he held a sphere of green stone, etched with countless runes that glowed with a faint golden radiance. Raising it up to the portal, he spoke in an ancient long dead tongue, what the demons instinctively recognized as a powerful rite of sealing. The space around him seemed to warp, as a beam of golden light connected the orb to the dead center of the portal. Before the cadre of lesser demons could so much as take a breath, there was a blinding flash of light, and a sound like a volcano exploding. A powerful inward rush of air sent the demons sprawling onto the ground, screeches of rage and pain echoing through the air. Only the humans in their armor of silver, seemed unaffected, standing tall, like monoliths erected at the dawn of time. Then, as the demons picked themselves up, the final human warrior turned. . . and the demons froze.

His appearance was no different to that of his fellows, save for two things, the symbol upon his armor that all demon kind had come to know, and the aura surrounding him. A brutal malevolent fury seemed to explode out from him, filling the air with the scent of hatred and bloodlust. Yet it was different from how the stories of demons told it to be. Now, the scent was sharper, purer, focused, no longer the scent of a mere wrathful beast, but the scent of a just, righteous anger. Too, was the overpowering scent of something that no demon had smelled on a mortal in eons. To mortals, had they the ability to detect it, it would have smelled like lavender, roses, and honey. To the demons, it was as burning hair and rubber, and filled them with unremitting horror. The Doom Slayer had long been the only mortal Hell had ever feared, but now, suffused in the scent of holy energy, it was clear. . . he was mortal, no longer. And as the Demons trembled beneath his gaze, Hell itself. . . trembled with them.     


+++++++


Soundtrack: At Doom's Gate by Mick Gordon

Derran stood with his back to the gathered demons, the sealing orb, its purpose served, now crumbled to dust in his hand. His heart a maelstrom, as he stared at the point where the portal once stood. In that moment, he felt despair threaten to consume him. For an instant, his limbs became as lead, his heart as dust, and his soul, as a ragged scrap of cloth amid the storm concealed within him. The last time he had known such pain, had been on D'nur, when he had seen his beloved child, breath her last. This time however, when the pain came, Derran was ready for it. Steeling himself, he forced his emotions down into the depths of his mind. He felt no sorrow, for his was a holy mission. He felt no loss, for his duty was all he required. Fortifying his mind, he forced the painful memories of who and what he had just left behind into a box. . . and then hurled that box into the depths of his subconscious. A sword had no need of love, a shield no need of memories. He was a Guardian, a holy servant to the seraphim. The seraphim. . . no matter what his heart may have told him, loved him as a queen her knight, and nothing more. To serve was his only love. . . as it should be.

Turning, Derran looked out over the broken landscape of Hell, stretching out into the infinite. Then, gathered before him and his brothers, he saw the demons. A sense of righteous rage assailed Derran as, beneath his helm, his eyes flickered from blue, to red. As slowly, he stalked forward, seeming to the demons to grow larger with every step, as he joined his brothers

"Orders my Lord?" Asked Beroghar, his voice a cold rumbling growl through his helm's speakers. Pulling free his hardlight sword, Derran activated it. The burning golden blade flashing into existence with a flare of brilliant white light, and a sound like a knife being drawn across stone. Clenching the blade in both hands, Derran answered in a voice that seemed to shake the world around him with unrestrained fury. The Demons, overwhelmed by sheer undiluted terror, turning and making to run. . . as the Doom Slayer gave his order.

"Rip. . . and. . . TEAR!!"



 

As the final scene of Derran's memories faded into silver mist, Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship, surrounded by her friends and family. . . stared in shock at Derran Grandel. In her mind, she felt an inexplicable numbness, as she tried to collate all the information she had just received. Turning mechanically to her left and right, she tried to gauge the reactions of her friends and family, only to find them all in a similar stupor. In the back of her mind, Twilight felt like she should be saying or doing something, but couldn't even begin to imagine what. Finally, Celestia spoke.

"Now you know." She stated, wiping a tear from her eye. "Twelve hundred years ago, Derran and his brothers saved Equestria from extinction. Then sealed themselves away, and wiped their existence from history, to insure we would never need to fear Hell's evil again." Twilight continued to gape, as she stared at Derran's seated form. Before her eyes filled with tears.

"You, gave up everything. . . for us?" Derran's eyes opened, as Celestia and Luna dismissed the spell. The silvery mists of the proiectura anima dissipating almost instantly into nothing. Moving to stand, Derran gave a weak smile.

"I. . . ." Derran began, only to trail off as he staggered forward, his expression blank as he fell to one knee.

"DERRAN!!" The shout was echoed by all those present, as Twilight, Celestia, and Luna rushed forward. Only for Derran to suddenly hold up a hand.

"Relax. . . he ain't dead yet." The voice that emanated from Derran's hunched over form, stopped all three princesses cold. "Dumbass never did know when to take a break." Twilight's eyes widened, as she took an unconscious step back. The voice was far deeper than Derran's, and despite obviously trying to be reassuring, it was cold and cruel, with a sarcastic edge, that made every word seem filled with spite. 

"Derran?" Spike asked in a shaking voice, hiding himself as best he could behind Twilight's hind leg. There was a dark and sinister chuckle that made the ponies manes stand on end.

"Sorry, but the boss ain't home right now. . ." Slowly raising his head, Derran fixed Spike with a crimson eyed gaze that rent his remaining courage completely asunder. "can I take a message?" He asked, a vicious grin adorning his features. Letting out a yelp of fear, Spike tried to hide himself beneath Twilight's tail, as the alicorn fixed Derran, or rather, the being now controlling Derran's body, with a stern look.

"I wondered if I'd get a chance to speak with you. . . Doom Slayer." She stated, her tone calm and even, as she gave the kneeling figure a gentle smile. At Twilight's expression, the Doom Slayer's own smile vanished, replaced with a look of annoyance.

"Speaking with me isn't something you should look forward too." He declared coldly. At that moment, Rainbow Dash ran forward to give the Doom Slayer an enraged glare.

"What did you do with Derran?!!" She demanded angrily. Fixing Rainbow with his gaze, the Doom Slayer gave her a look of pure wrath. Instantly Rainbow felt her courage falter, a shiver of icy fear running through her, as she looked into quite possibly the most terrifying pair of eyes in existence. Yet, even so, she held her ground.

"Well would you look at the pair on you. . . ." The Doom Slayer mocked, a distorted smile appearing on his borrowed face.

"I'm not scared of you!" Rainbow declared angrily. Suddenly the smile fell from the Doom Slayer's face, to be replaced by a look of supreme rage.

"WELL YOU SHOULD BE!!!" He roared, sending Rainbow back a step with the sheer force of his fury, before suddenly becoming calm again. "But relax, my goody two shoes of a jailer just got a little overtired. Moron hid how much that little fairy dust slideshow was taking out of him, cause he wanted there to be no more secrets between you and him." The Doom Slayer scoffed. "And as per usual, I'm the one who has to save his worthless ass from face planting into the dirt." Rainbow, a look of indignant anger on her face, opened her mouth to reply, only for Twilight to step in.

"Thank you for your assistance, Doom Slayer." She said, her tone completely sincere. The Doom Slayer gave her a nasty, if calculating, look.

"Stop." He stated, his tone low and threatening.

"Stop what?" Twilight asked innocently.

"Stop trying to make friends with me." The Doom Slayer's tone was cold as ice, even as Twilight gave him a genuinely kind look.

"Why do you want me to do that?" For a moment, it looked like the Doom Slayer was going to explode again, his eyes bulging with restrained fury. Taking a deep breath, the Doom Slayer spoke with a voice dripping with condescension.

"Look, star butt, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. . . I am not here to be your friend! That's what that other idiot is for. Let me explain what it is I do. . . . When someone, or something, threatens you, I kill it! I pull out its guts, I wrap its intestines around its throat, and I pull till the squealing stops. Then I find out where the thing that tried to hurt you's friends are, everybody and everything it has in its life that offered it support, be it military, physical, or emotional, and I kill them. I ram my fist up their ass, grab whatever passes for their tongue, and pull it out their sphincter. Finally, I find their family, cousins, aunts, uncles, mothers, fathers, and even children if I feel it necessary, and I kill them. I peel off their skin, roll them in salt, then drown them in a vat of fucking acid WHILE THEY BEG FOR THEIR LIGHT FORSAKEN LIVES!!" Pausing to take a breath after his rant, the Doom Slayer fixed Twilight with another enraged glare. "Do. You. Understand?!" Twilight simply gave a sad smile.

"If that's all you are. . . then why do you sound so scared?" The Doom Slayer's eyes widened for a nearly imperceptible second, before once more narrowing with rage. 

"Excuse me?" He growled, looking like he was suppressing an urge to rip out Twilight's throat.

"I could hear it in your voice." Twilight explained. "Its faint, but there's a slight tremor, one that indicates fear." The Doom Slayer let out a growl.

"Stop pretending like you fucking know me!!" He snarled. Now Cadence stepped forward.

"But she does know you." The Princess of Love declared. "After all, you can't love somepony without knowing them."

"She loves Derran Grandel candy ass! And in case you haven't been paying attention, I'm not him!" Cadence just smiled.

"After all I've seen, I'm not so sure I believe that?" She replied smoothly. The Doom Slayer opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly stopped short. Tilting his head, it almost seemed as if he was listening to something, before taking a deep breath.

"There is a difference." He declared, his voice almost calm. His bluster and fury muted as he realized neither princess was intimidated by it. "I know you Seraphim like to have faith in everybody and everypony, but trust me, I'm not the kind of guy you wanna have in your social circle, even assuming Derran would let you." Here, the Doom Slayer let out a weary sigh, speaking in a tone that sounded almost regretful. "There's gonna be a day when you realize, that some beings are beyond redemption. When that day comes. . . I don't want it to hurt you anymore than I know it's already going to." Letting out another sigh, the Doom Slayer shook his head. "Look, I ain't got much time left to talk, and I doubt we'll ever speak again anytime soon, if ever. So I'm warning you, even if you're too naive to listen: I'm a lost cause." Twilight just gave another serene smile.

"I believe lost causes, are the causes most worth fighting for." She declared. Behind the Doom Slayer, Celestia nodded.

"We kept faith in you and Derran for twelve hundred years, we don't intend to give up now." 

"Indeed." Luna chimed in. "I can assure you from personal experience, that nopony is beyond redemption." The Doom Slayer shook his head, his expression becoming something that, on another being, would have been called sad.

"You're wrong." He declared simply. "Redemption is for guy's that wanna stop being monsters, and I learned a long time ago that if I wanna keep anyone safe. . . I never can." Before anyone could reply, the Doom Slayer briefly tensed, his eyelids fluttering, as his head drooped, hiding his eyes from view as his body went limp. Just before the Doom Slayer would have fallen, he took a staggering step forward. Raising his head, he revealed a gaze that had reverted back to a familiar icy blue. 

"Derran?" Twilight asked. Picking himself up, Derran Grandel nodded. For the first time since anypony present had known him, Derran looked his age. Dark circles adorned his bloodshot eyes, and he moved with slight stops and starts, as if he could not quite get his limbs to obey. He appeared slightly hunched over, and everything about his posture spoke of an immense exhaustion, both emotional and physical.

"What. . . what did he say to you?!" Derran demanded, his eyes narrowed in anger, even as his body swayed unsteadily. Twilight hesitated for a moment before finally replying.

"Mostly. . . that we should stay away from him." She explained in a slightly sad voice. Derran, finally managing to steady himself, gave Twilight a look that was deadly serious.  

"Sound advice, surprisingly, but I can see the sympathy in your eyes, and hear it in your voice, so allow me to provide some additional clarity. Never, under any circumstances, allow yourself to feel empathy for that wretch." Derran's voice was calm as he spoke, but there was no mistaking the faint undertone of spite as he continued. "The Doom Slayer may not wish you harm, but a leashed monster is still a monster. Even if I were to allow for the idea of his intentions being noble, that intent would be invariably warped by the mere fact of what he is. You cannot trust anything he says at face value." Twilight gave Derran a searching look. 

"Even if you both say almost exactly the same thing?" She inquired. Derran paused for a moment, but simply shook his head.

"He has lived within me for over a thousand years my Lady, that his words reflect my own is no surprise. However it changes nothing. To reiterate, a necessary evil, is still evil, and should be treated as such." He declared, his tone carefully controlled.       

"But. . . ." Twilight trailed off as she saw Celestia and Luna give a sad shake of their heads, clearly, this was not the first time Derran had had this conversation. Letting out a sigh, Twilight decided to let the matter drop, as Celestia stepped forward to stand with Luna next to Derran and Twilight. Her tone gentle as she spoke. 

"It is nearly time for me to lower the sun. I propose we all head back to the castle for now." Luna nodded her agreement as she adopted a lighthearted tone.

"Indeed, besides, I don't know about anypony else, but I am feeling rather peckish." Instantly, as if to highlight Luna's statement, Applejack's stomach gave a loud growl. As everypony turned to look at her, the farm pony gave a chuckle, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. 

"He he, sorry bout that everypony. The Princess is right though, I was so busy with that yarn about yer past, I plum forgot about how hungry I was." Pinkie nodded.

"Yeah, I thought about using my emergency cake, but I wasn't sure if 'listening to a story so hard you forgot about lunch', qualified as an emergency. So I decided I better wait till the end of the story so I could ask everypony else what they thought." Turning to look at Derran and the others, Pinkie's expression became expectant. "So, do you guys think 'listening to a story so hard you forgot lunch' qualifies for using emergency cake?" With a slight chuckle, Twilight left Pinkie's question unanswered, as she turned to give Derran a smile.

"Well Derran. . . what do you say? Ready to go home?" At Twilight's question, Derran seemed to pause. Home. . . all at once it struck him how much weight that word carried. This was it. . . this was the end of the mission. He had slain the last of the Lords of Hell, he had disabled the Well of Souls, and the Crucible was now completely out of Hell's reach. Finally. . . after over twelve hundred years, after what seemed an eternity of blood, pain, and sorrow, finally, the last mission of the Doom Slayer was complete, and he. . . he was home. Looking at the smiling faces of Twilight and the others, Derran felt tears trickle their way slowly down his face. Smiling, he nodded, his mind feeling genuinely at peace for the first time in centuries as he replied.

"Yes, my Lady. . . I believe I am."   





As Derran exited the Everfree forest he could not help but smile. It was hard to describe in words, but something fundamental had changed between him and the chatting group of ponies surrounding him. With the revelation of Derran's past, the bond between them had been fundamentally altered. At first, Derran had feared that seeing all his sins laid bare would drive his new friends from him, instead, it had only brought them closer. Everything, from conversations to simple physical gestures had become more personal. A sense of warmth and complete trust permeated everything. There was no tension, or sense that ponies were hiding how they felt. In one fell swoop, Derran had lost all his friends, and in their place, had gained a family. Which made it all the more terrible. . . when three panting and panic faced fillies, ran up to him.

Babbling at a speed that made them completely incoherent, and gesturing wildly with their hooves, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo, looked like they had just come from an all day marathon. Their mane's plastered to their heads, and covered in dust, burrs, and even a few twigs and leaves, the girls were clearly running on pure adrenaline. Instantly, Rarity, Applejack and Rainbow Dash ran forward.

"Sweetie Belle!" Rarity cried out, shocked at her sister's disheveled appearance. "What in Equestria is the matter?!"

"Apple Bloom, ya'll gotta slow down, ah can't understand a word yer sayin!"  

"Deep breaths Scootaloo, you need to-"

"FLURRY HEART AND DERPY!!" All three fillies shouted the names at the exact same time, before turning to look at Derran with tears in their eyes. "YOU HAVE TO SAVE THEM!!!" For an instant, time seemed to stand still, as Derran stepped forward. His expression was unreadable, as he spoke in a voice that somehow was at once reassuring, and terrifying.

"Tell me what happened." Somehow, the intensity of Derran's words seemed to steady the three fillies, as they finally managed to take a breath and calm down. Then, in as detailed a manner as possible, the three explained what had happened. . . .





In a secluded area just far enough from Ponyville for the hills to hide it, Derran Grandel found Derpy Hooves sitting calmly on a patch of long grass. As instructed, he had waited until midnight, the moon overhead illuminating the scene with its pale silvery light. Derran did not speak as he approached, even his footsteps seeming eerily silent, as he and the ponies with him moved unerringly toward the grey pegasus. With the exception of Spike, Rarity and Starlight, who had volunteered to watch over the exhausted Crusaders at Sweet Apple Acres, it was the same gathering as before. Directly at Derran's sides were Twilight, Cadence, and Shining Armor, all three of whom bore expressions of carefully concealed worry, bordering on panic. Derran however, showed little emotion, his expression cold and unfeeling as he approached the designated meeting spot.

As he got closer, Derran was able to make out the details of Derpy's appearance, and only an effort of extreme will prevented him from rushing to her side. She had clearly been in a fight,. Her mane and tail were sticking out at odd angles, and in some places, bald spots showed where her hair had been torn out. Her body was covered in cuts, bruises, and scratches, her lower lip had been split, and one eye was swollen almost completely shut. Worst of all however, was that one of her legs had been badly broken, bent almost perpendicular just below the knee. Only Derpy's wings had been left untouched, no doubt so she could fly back to deliver her message. Currently however, Derpy seemed unaware of the condition of her body. Sitting there completely at ease, she seemed to feel no pain, her eyes glowing a poisonous green, that pulsed faintly in sympathy with a strange amulet around her neck. As Derran approached, an unnatural and cruel smile spread across her face.

"So. . . finally I get to meet the great hero of Ponyville. . . ." The voice that came from Derpy's mouth was unmistakably female, however it was deep, vicious, and dripping with a venomous sarcasm.

"WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER YOU MONSTER?!!" Shining Armor roared, only prevented from charging at Derpy by Cadence's steady hoof barring the way. A laugh filled with sadistic mirth emanated from Derpy, or rather, from the puppeteer controlling her.

"What? No hello Shiny? And here I thought we were close? Did you not enjoy the time you spent as my colttoy way back when?" Once again, Cadence restrained her husband, though the glare she directed at Derpy was nothing short of murderous. 

"Where is Flurry Heart?" The question was uttered with a coldness so intense, that Shining and Cadence felt their anger washed away by an instinctive fear, as Derran Grandel stepped between them and the possessed pegasus. Derpy let out an almost fillyish titter.

"Oh come now. . . don't you think you should at least let me introduce myself first?" Derran's expression did not move an inch, yet it felt as if all the wrath of armageddon itself, spilled from his gaze.

"You are Chrysalis, former Queen of the changelings. I ask you again, where is Flurry Heart?" Chrysalis, through her puppet, put on a bored expression.

"Ugh, you really aren't going to let me enjoy this are you? Not to worry, Shiny and Cadence's little bundle of joy is perfectly safe here with me." As before, Derran's expression did not shift.

"And what proof do I have that you speak truly?" He demanded, his voice as cold and unmoving as a glacier. Chrysalis giggled.

"None, except of course, my word." Instantly Chrysalis began laughing uproariously, as though she had just told the funniest joke in the world. Still, Derran did not react, his expression and body language seemingly locked in a state of frigid stasis.

"What do you want in exchange for Flurry Heart's safe return?" He asked, his tone as steady and unemotional as stone covered in ice. Instantly Chrysalis stopped laughing to smile at Derran, the expression looking nothing less than unholy when portrayed by Derpy's face.

"Nothing much. . . I just want you to play a little game with me." She stated, her tone filled with all the false innocence of a cat toying with a cornered mouse. "The game is simple, all you need to do is win a little. . . let's call it a contest of champions. You, and you alone, just need to cross through an arena I've prepared for you in the Everfree Forest, while the challengers I've arranged for you try to stop you. If you can reach Flurry Heart without dying, then you get to walk away with her, and I swear to never again bother Equestria. If you lose however. . ." The smile on Derpy's face widened grotesquely. "then I keep Flurry heart, and raise her as my own. You see, I just recently came across an ancient changeling spell that I've been dying to try out. Apparently, it has the power to irreversibly imprint the mental characteristics of the caster on another subject. Once the spell is performed, Flurry Heart will effectively be another version of me!" Chrysalis suddenly began howling with laughter. "Can't you just imagine it?! In a decade or two I'll return with her to Equestria, my hive restored, and beaming with parental pride, as she rips Cadence and Shining's throats out with her bare teeth!!" Derran continued to glare unfeelingly at Derpy Hooves, however the expressions of everypony else turned from enraged, to ashen. Suddenly Celestia stepped forward to stand at Derran's side, her eyes like twin pools of fire, the heat emanating from her body turning the dew on the grass to steam in mere moments.

"Even for you Chrysalis, this is a new low!" Celestia declared, her voice echoing faintly. Turning Derpy's head to look at Celestia, Chrysalis simply smirked.

"Why Celestia, whatever do you mean?" She asked, her tone a mocking parody of sincerity. "All I want to do is make you watch as the love of your life dies in front of you, and then twist your grand niece into a weapon to help me take over your kingdom, is that so wrong?" Celestia's mane flared to a blinding radiance, the grass wilting beneath her hooves as she struggled to control her temper. Only the feeling of Derran's hand being placed on her shoulder, kept her from trying something drastic.

"When and where?" Derran asked, his tone still utterly devoid of any identifiable emotion.

"Tomorrow at dawn, I'll set up a beacon to guide you to the right spot. . . do avoid being late." Derran seemed almost not to hear, as he moved to stand right in front of Derpy.

"A final question." Derran demanded, and for the first time, a tremble of anger could be heard in his otherwise flat tone. A sickly sweet smile appeared on Derpy's face.

"Why not. . . a last request perhaps?" Looking Down into Derpy's glowing green eyes, Derran's voice was like the hammer of judgement itself. 

"What happened to lady Derpy?" The smile on Chrysalis's stolen features grew.

"Aww, how sweet! Your worried about your little frie-"

"Answer the question." Derran demanded, his tone sending a shudder down even Celestia's spine. Chrysalis smirked.

"Well. . . when I tried to take the brat from her, she somehow broke free from my control for a bit. No idea how she managed it, but she really did not want to give the kid up. Kept saying something about how she'd never let me take her, and that she promised you she'd look after her and blah blah blah. Anyway, she had the audacity to disobey her queen and buck two of my drones into unconsciousness, so I had my subjects, teach her a lesson." In that moment, every living creature within miles, froze. 

All across the land, a feeling of indescribable dread filled the air. Birds and mice awoke in their nests to glance frantically around, every fight or flight instinct in their bodies screaming at them to run. Predators stalking through the night, halted in their tracks and whimpered, as pure terror assailed them from every direction, and swiftly sent them running back to their burrows and caves. Those few ponies in Ponyville not still awake and waiting for word on Flurry Heart's kidnapping, sat bolt upright in bed with a frightened gasp. Their blood running colder than if the reaper himself had just walked past them. The ponies still awake, rushed inside their homes, locking their doors and windows with trembling hooves. Nocreature knew where exactly the wave of terror had come from, but all hoped with all their hearts to never find out. Meanwhile, at the epicenter, Derran Grandel stood, looming over the possessed body of Derpy hooves, his voice like the kiss of death itself.

"I know who you are. . . allow me to explain to you, who I am. . . ." As Derran began to speak, it seemed as if the darkness around him deepened, the shadows almost seeming to flicker at his words. "I am a being who has survived armageddon. With blade and bullet, have I butchered the guilty and cast down their works into dust and ash. I have laid waste to armies, and slain would-be kings and tyrant lords alike. I have ground castles down, stone by stone, till only powder remained, and broken the weapons and armor of the Darkness's greatest champions beneath my heel! I have devoured the flesh of monsters, and impaled their kin upon spears made from their very bones!" Derran's voice seemed to distort, as his eyes shifted to an unholy red.  "I am a creature, who has slain armies, and made false gods tremble on their thrones! I am the hell walker! The forsaken champion! The bane of all that dares worship the might of evil! I am heaven's wrathful answer to the sins of men, and the depredations of monsters! I. . . am the Doom Slayer!" Here Derran ever so gently reached out, to take hold of the amulet around Derpy's neck, his voice becoming a whisper. "And you. . . have no idea, what you have done!" Many miles away, Chrysalis recoiled, her head exploding in pain, as Derran crushed the amulet, an artifact magically reinforced to be tougher than a diamond, into a fine powder. . . . 

Reaching out his empty hand, Derran stopped Derpy from falling as she slumped forward. The poisonous green light fading from her eyes, as they filled with tears. Clinging to consciousness through her pain and exhaustion via an inequine level of willpower, she looked into Derran's eyes. Through delirium and agony, she spoke, her voice raw.

"I tried mister Derran. . . ." She gasped out, shame and sorrow in every word. "I tried so hard. . . but there were just so many! I. . . I couldn't. . . ." Tears filled her eyes as she painfully shook her head. "I'm sorry. . . that poor filly. . . have to. . . save. . . her. . . ." Unable to hold on any longer, Derpy's will gave out, and she slipped into unconsciousness. . . as Derran gathered her up in his arms. He did not turn around as he spoke, his tone once more emotionless and cold, as he delicately cradled Derpy's limp body.

"Lady Fluttershy, lady Pinkamena?" The pair said nothing, but Derran knew they were listening. "Go to lady Derpy's home. Find her daughter Dinky, take her to lady Fluttershy's cottage and have her stay there for the night. Keep her safe, keep her happy. Tell Dinky her mother is not feeling well, but give my personal assurance that she will recover, and that she will see her mother again as soon as it can be managed." 

"Of course." Fluttershy agreed.

"No problem." Pinkie replied, an almost unnatural note of seriousness entering her voice. Derran gave no indication he heard them, as they headed off to follow his instructions.

"Lady Cadence, Lord shining Armor?" Derran asked, his tone softening just a hair.

"Yes?" Cadence asked, doing a commendable job of keeping her cool, despite clearly being close to a breakdown. Shining however, seemed completely unable to reply, staring blankly at the ground as Derran spoke.

"I believe it would be best if Ladies Luna and Celestia, were to escort you back to the castle. I know it will be difficult, but for now I need you to stay put, and avoid doing anything rash." Cadence nodded numbly, as Celestia and Luna moved to her and Shining Armor's sides, to wrap a wing around each of them, in a gesture of sympathy and mutual comfort. As they Left, Derran, still facing away from everypony, gave the next set of orders. 

"Lady Applejack, Lady Twilight?"

"Watchyer need Derran?" Applejack asked, her voice sounding more than a little hollow.

"I need you two to head into town and reassure the populace. Difficult as it will be, you must explain what has happened, but urge everypony to remain calm."

"How?" Twilight asked, her voice sounding virtually lifeless. Derran still did not move as he replied.

"Tell the truth, tell them that Flurry Heart was kidnapped, and that at dawns first light. . . I will bring her home!" Twilight and Applejack nodded, each taking a deep breath as they prepared to put on a brave face for their fellow ponies. As they headed out, Rainbow Dash looked to Derran.

"What do you need me to do?" She asked, her tone shaken, but determined. Derran still did not move as he answered.

"You shall remain with me, lady Dash. In the event I must pass on further instructions, you will act as my messenger." Rainbow nodded.

"You got it." Derran did not reply, nor did he move. After several moments of waiting, Rainbow spoke again. 

"Derran. . . are you ok?" For several more moments, Rainbow's only answer was silence. Then, Derran spoke. . . and Rainbow felt a shudder run through her. As Derran's voice trembled with an utterly terrifying level of barely restrained rage.

"A seraphim, a child, whom I am sworn to guard with my life and soul, was taken from her home and family by a psychopathic madmare. In my arms, I cradle the beaten and broken body of a single mother, and a dear friend, who was injured trying to protect the child it was my responsibility to look after! In a house not far from here, a young filly huddles scared and alone, wondering at the fate of the mother who lies injured in my arms! In the castle, a father and mother, must sit on their hooves as their child lies in mortal peril!! And all of this, all of it, because I couldn't resist the urge to turn a simple explanation of the past, into a Light dammed field trip!!" As Derran turned to face her, Rainbow Dash felt herself become pinned to the ground with abject terror, at the sight of his face. 

Derran's eyes had become literal pools of bloody red light, his face's every vein bulging out and lit from within, as if his very blood had turned to fire! For an instant, small phantom flames of ebon black flitted across Derran's skin and armor. His breath steamed from his mouth, as though his very saliva had begun to boil, and when he spoke, Rainbow Dash could swear she heard a sound like distant thunder, accompanying every word. 

"I am alive lady Dash. . . but I am far from 'ok'!"