//------------------------------// // Case Twelve, Chapter Seven: Faith and Monsters // Story: Ponyville Noire: Kriegspiel—Black, White, and Scarlet // by PonyJosiah13 //------------------------------// All was darkness. The first thing that Daring Do felt was the shifting sand beneath her hooves, burning at her flesh. The wind howled all around her, first hot and scalding as it tried to rip the flesh from her bones, then sharp and cold, like being stabbed with thousands of icicles.  When the light finally returned to her eyes, she realized with a thrill of bewilderment that she was standing in a desert. Rolling hills of volcanic black sand stretched around her as far as the eye could see. Above, half of the sky was cast in a harsh, bloody red, the sun a blinding white dot in the center of it; the other half was black as pitch, spattered with stars that blinked and winked like eyes, with a silver crescent in the center.  “Rainbow?!” Daring called, looking around, tilting her pith helmet down in a futile attempt to block the wind, which seemed to change direction at random intervals.  A familiar multi-hued mane emerged from behind a nearby dune and Rainbow ran up, sand clinging to her wings and coat. “Where are we?” she called, shivering as the icy wind bit at her.  “I don’t know!” Daring replied, pulling her counterpart closer to her and draping a wing over her back as they both turned and looked back up at the sky. She looked around for any landmarks and spotted an unnatural angular structure in the distance. “Over there!” she pointed.  The two mares started across the rolling dunes, slipping and skidding in loose patches of the sand. As they ran towards the target, alternately shivering and sweating beneath the attacking wind, Daring’s mind raced furiously over what had happened. The shield bursting open, the sucking hole, being yanked inside, and then crushing blackness… Okay. Okay. Don’t freak out. There’s a way in. There’s a way out. Twilight and Phil will figure it out if you don’t. They crested the dune to behold the anomalous object: a fractured stone wall made of a strange yellow-orange material, partially buried in the sand beneath the bizarre night. Stange, daedal art and cuneiform writing covered every inch of the stone, faded from exposure and time. More Cyclopean structures, all of them constructed of the same aberrantly colored rock, lay around them, like fossils sticking out from the desert.  “What the hell is all this?” Daring asked out loud.  “Who cares right now?” Rainbow replied, trying fruitlessly to shelter against the stone block from the hostile weather. “We need to get out of this wind before we either roast or freeze!”  Daring looked around and spotted a partially-buried doorway sticking out of a larger dune. “There,” she pointed.  The two hurried over to the doorway and hid inside the archway. The cool stone beneath their hooves was a welcome change from the sand, as was the relief from the harsh winds.  “Okay,” Rainbow panted. “We have no idea where we are, how we got here, or how to get back. That the gist of it?”  “Pretty much,” Daring nodded, glancing out to look up at the sky. The sun and moon both stared down at her and an uncomfortable feeling of being watched settled in Daring’s stomach. “But we can’t be on Earth anymore. Not with the sun and moon like that.”  “Do you think we’re on another planet?” Rainbow asked. "This definitely isn't Equestria." "I don't know," Daring said. "I think it’s more likely we’re in some kind of alternate reality, like the forest that the Key of Shadow Walker is connected to. Or maybe we’re just hallucinating the whole thing.”  Casting her eyes around for more clues, Daring spotted some of the cuneiform on the wall of the archway that they were standing in. Turning on her flashlight, she bent in closer to study the ancient writing and hieroglyphs, casting her mind over every ancient history book that she’d ever read, recalling as much as she could of dead languages. However, to her frustration, the strange angular symbols and hieroglyphs of strange creatures refused to be categorized and identified...even though, for some bizarre reason, she could’ve sworn that she’d seen them before.  “Mmm,” she grumbled, her eyes hovering over a small hieroglyph of a dog-like creature with a paw on its long tail.  “Can you read any of that?” Rainbow asked.  “I think…” Something in Daring’s mind suddenly clicked as she recognized the creature: an ahuizotl. “Yeah. I think this is the same language that was in the Kyaltratek.” Rainbow’s eyes widened. “Uh...that’s bad, isn’t it?”  “I don’t think this can get much worse,” Daring pointed out, looking down the dark steps that stretched into the subterranean darkness behind them. The shadows seemed to gobble up the light of her torch after only a few steps.  “Maybe there’s a way out down there,” Rainbow muttered, making no attempt to head down the steps.  “Maybe,” Daring agreed. “And maybe Twilight and Phil will figure out a way to get us out of here.”  “You have any other plans?” Rainbow asked, shivering as another gust of icy wind rushed in through the entrance.  “Besides praying, no,” Daring shrugged.  And so, the two started down the stairs, every hoofstep echoing off of the close stone walls, every heartbeat pounding loudly in their own ears. The darkness welcomed them into its midst, enveloping and surrounding them: the light from Daring’s torch only extended a few feet ahead.  A sudden rustle of movement. Both mares froze instantly, ears twitching about to try to track the sound. Daring cast her flashlight about, but all she saw were the carved creatures in the off-yellow walls. Every single one of them had far too many eyes, and all of them in places that they didn’t belong.  “We’re not alone down here,” Daring hissed. “Keep your eyes and ears open.”  “Got it,” Rainbow nodded. “You think it’s some kind of horrible monster? Because...that’d be kind of cool. Also terrifying. Kinda. But mostly—”  “Mouth shut, eyes and ears open,” Daring scolded, pressing forward. As she continued down into the buried structure, she suppressed the urge to look back, to study the eyes etched into the walls. That squirming sensation in her stomach of being watched had only intensified. A few more steps and the ground leveled out. Daring’s flashlight revealed a large doorway before them, made of the same abnormally colored stone. Jewel-studded bas-reliefs of the four Old Gods—Daybreaker, Nightmare Moon, Discord, and Tirek—were placed in four quarters around a circular handle. The shape and pose of each figure was instantly familiar to Daring’s eyes. “The Innsbeak Statues,” she said. “Maybe...maybe they’re somehow inside here. Maybe they’re our way out.”  “You sure about that?” Rainbow asked.  “The statues pulled us in here, maybe the statues can get us out,” Daring replied, studying the door. The deities all stared down at her, daring her to come closer. A breath of scalding wind slithered down the steps behind them, tugging at her tail and wings.  “On the upside: if we get out of this, I’ll get to tell ponies that I survived a real Hayana Pones adventure!” Rainbow said next to her, trying to hide a nervous laugh and a gulp behind her speech. “So, uh...shall we?”  Daring took a slow breath and nodded. Reaching up, she pulled at the handle. With a massive groaning of ancient hinges, the door opened to reveal a narrow, dark hallway. Tentatively, the two mares proceeded inside, Daring’s flashlight leading the way for what little good it did.  A great crash sounded from behind them, prompting them both to whirl around with barely stifled screams. The door had slammed shut behind them, forming a solid slab of stone.  “Okay,” Daring said, commanding her voice and hooves to not shake. “No way back. Gotta go forward.” They proceeded forward into the darkness, Rainbow placing one hoof on the wall to guide them forward down the winding tunnel. The faded designs on the wall, all blasphemous icons and strange creatures, gave no indication of which way to go. They proceeded in silence, down and down, seeing no sign of any other creature within these tombs as the minutes passed. Occasionally, the tunnels would branch off, and Daring would mark their passage with arrows made of pebbles.   They came to a T-intersection. Daring chose the right path and marched on after marking their path. The ground suddenly gave away from beneath Daring’s hoof. She withdrew with a gasp of shock, using a wing to push Rainbow back. Sweeping the ground, she saw that before them was a chasm that fell away into infinite, inky darkness. A narrow stone bridge provided the only method of movement across the wide gap. Daring lifted a wing, but a gust of hot, dry, stinking wind rushed up from the canyon, nearly knocking her pith helmet off. The stench sent her into a coughing fit, grimacing as the acrid flavor clung to her tongue.  “Too dangerous to try to fly across,” she reported, carefully stepping onto the bridge. The stone held up her weight and she proceeded forward. Rainbow followed close behind, holding her wings out for balance.  The wind rushed up again, and both mares had to pause, crouching down and folding their wings in to stay atop the narrow passageway, holding their breath against the smell. Daring’s sweaty hooves clung to the stone as hard as she could, heart dancing in terror as the thought of slipping and falling off hissed in her ear.  The wind paused, and then Daring felt a cold downdraft pushing down on her back, much gentler than before. Rising, she started forward once more.   “Daring,” Rainbow called, looking over the edge. “Something’s moving down there.”  Daring peered over the edge as well, squinting. She could see movement below, dark against dark.  And then a massive eye, glowing green with a slit pupil three times as long as a grown pony, opened beneath them, blinking as it focused on them. The wind growled up from beneath them in a low, rhythmic rumble of language.  Both mares yelped and scurried across the bridge to the other side. They paused, panting. Another gust of hot wind huffed up from the canyon, and then all was still.  “Okay. Keep moving,” Daring said, guiding Rainbow down the passageway.  But as soon as they turned the corner, they were faced with a dead end. A wall with a scrawling of Discord halted their progress. The serpentine god, his body a motley assembly of random creatures, sneered down at them. The eyes in the palms of his front paws seemed to focus upon them, his barbed tail raised as if to strike.  “Dammit,” Daring muttered, sitting down to rest: she was suddenly aware of how abnormally tired she was, bones and muscles aching dully. She pulled out a small canteen of water and took a few sips, then passed it to Rainbow.  “Daring?” Rainbow asked, taking a few tentative gulps. “How long have we been down here?”  Daring checked her watch and frowned to find that the arms weren’t moving. She held it up to her ear and tapped it a few times, but it didn’t tick.  “Maybe an hour,” she replied with a sigh. “Guess we’ll have to go back up.”  Rainbow nodded and stood up to leave, then paused in bewilderment. “Uh...where’d the hallway go?”  Daring looked up and her mouth dropped open in shock. The tunnel that led back to the chasm had vanished, replaced only with a solid wall of stone. Turning around, she saw that the wall with Discord was now a tunnel leading to some kind of circular chamber, with several other doorways carved into the circumference. Etched into every inch of the walls, ceiling, and floor was a phrase, repeated over and over in every language she knew and many she didn’t:  “Sleeping beneath all flesh.” “Okay,” Rainbow muttered. “Changing hallways. Kinda cool. Also kinda scary now that we really can’t go back.”  Daring’s flashlight flickered and she unclipped it, cranking the recharging handle with a sweaty, dully throbbing hoof. “Eenie meenie minie...fuck it,” she grumbled, choosing the middle passageway. Grabbing some loose pebbles, she placed them in a line in front of the door. “C’mon, Dash,” she called. Rainbow fell in line behind her, leaving the chamber behind.  But no sooner had they left the chamber behind then they heard it...no, they felt it. A skittering like many legs, like something stirring from sleep that they heard in their bones, felt slithering beneath their flesh. Both of them froze for a moment, some instinct warning them: Don’t turn around. “Run,” Daring said and they sprinted down the tunnel. The skittering echoed behind them, within them, the sound writhing in their racing blood. The tunnel twisted and writhed as they ran, half-blind, gasping for air. More than once, Daring’s flashlight flickered out, only to turn back on a moment later to reveal half-glimpsed idols and blasphemous faces etched into stone. And ever closer did their pursuers come, closing in on their tails, rising up from their marrow to rake against their skin.  The two rounded a final corner and paused, staring in disbelief. It wasn’t possible, they’d been running away the entire time.  But yet they were back inside the circular room that they’d started in. Daring glanced down and her stomach grew cold at the sight of the pebbles that she’d used to mark their passage at her hooves.  “But...but...how…?” Rainbow stammered, standing frozen, mouth and eyes agape.  The slithering, skittering of unseen things came closer behind them, and the sound, the sensation, came louder, stronger, from every direction. A peal of low, rumbling laughter echoed from out of the stone, mixing with Daring’s pounding heart.  There’s no way out. We’re going to die. Daring’s knees gave out as the realization hit her like ice water rising up to encompass her. She trembled helplessly beneath the noise, the cold, the crushing weight, gasping for the last few precious moments of air. Rainbow Dash fell next to her, hyperventilating and trembling, covering her head with her hooves.  The laughter grew louder, deeper, throbbing through the air. Daring closed her eyes and waited for death. “Someone,” she whispered. “Please. Help.”  She felt the cold stone beneath her hooves, the heavy air pressing down on her tongue and pushing against the inside of her lungs, her heart hammering against her ribs. And then she felt a strange, comforting coolness against her chest, underneath her shirt. Reaching beneath the vest, she pulled out the wandjina necklace that Rain had given her...was it really only yesterday? It felt like years ago. The little totem seemed unchanged, the white eyes staring up at her from the dark gray mouthless face, but the wood felt strangely cool in her hoof, like a light rain upon her back.  As she stared at Awely-Awely, Daring heard the skittering noise fade away rapidly, as if the things were retreating. The crushing sensation suddenly lifted and the two gasped down the lighter air, sucking in the precious oxygen until their hearts calmed.  Still holding the idol in one hoof, Daring stood up and looked around, then pointed down a single hallway. “That way,” she declared.  “Are you sure?” Rainbow asked, her voice just barely not a whimper. “How do you know?”  Daring paused to think and realized that she didn’t know why that particular pathway was the correct one: only that she knew, or perhaps just felt, that it was the right way. There was no logic behind it, but she was convinced it was right as surely as she was convinced of anything.  “Rainbow,” she said, crouching down next to the other mare. Rainbow looked like she’d aged ten years since they entered the temple: her coat and wings were dirty, bags were set deep in her face and her eyes were red and bloodshot, terrified tears shining in her corneas.  “I know you’re scared right now...and to be honest, I’m pretty freaked out, too,” she admitted. “But if we stay here, we’re going to die. We have to keep going and get out of here. And I…” She sighed. “I don’t know why, but I think I know where to go. Just stick with me: I’ll get you out of here.”  Rainbow hesitated. Daring held out her hoof. “Trust me,” she whispered.  Rainbow blinked back her tears, took in a deep breath, then took Daring’s hoof and let her help her up. Daring draped a wing over Rainbow’s back and led her forward down the narrow hallway, placing the wandjina necklace beneath her shirt so that the cool wood sat next to her still pounding heart.  As they proceeded forward, they felt more than heard the slithering and hissing around them, but they did not turn around. “Just keep moving, don’t show fear,” Daring whispered to Rainbow, who nodded.  They turned one corner, then another, and finally, they beheld a grand chamber. The domed ceiling stretched high above them, adorned with fantastical constellations. The room fell away into a deep circular chasm; several pillars reached up from the abyss, all different heights and circumferences. In the center was a larger pillar, upon which stood four altars. Upon each altar was a familiar statue, the gold bodies and embedded gems shining beneath the light of Daring’s flashlight.  “There!” Rainbow cried, springing up into the air and flying straight at the Innsbeak Statues.  But as soon as she came close, a gust of hot, dry, stinking wind rushed up from the chasm and Rainbow yelped as she was thrown out of the air, tumbling across the sky. She managed to right herself and landed upon a stone pillar.  But then the same wind suddenly shifted to the side and Rainbow was yanked off the pillar with a cry of panic. She grabbed onto the stone and clung on for dear life, her hind legs scrabbling for purchase on the stone.  “Dash!” Daring screamed, jumping over the edge to try to reach her, but the wind forced her back. With a nauseated grimace and a growl, she tilted her hat down and pushed harder, harder, until her wings screamed in agony. But the wind formed a solid wall, refusing to let her back.  She felt it again, heard it in her blood: the crawling of unseen things around her, inside of her, coming closer. They pulled and ripped at her innards, gnawing at her will, her energy. Every breath came harder than the last, her heart ached with every heavy beat.  “Daring, help!” Rainbow cried, her hoof slipping. She clung on by one hoof, wings still flapping for purchase.  The prosthetic let out a warning chirp, a light set in the joint blinking red. The metal muscles slowed as the power began to drain away.  Panic raced through Daring’s veins...and then she gritted her teeth and forced the fear down into her gut. She poured in her rage, every last ounce of will she could summon, stirred it all together into one purpose, one last desperate, burning hope. And then she let it out with a shout.  “WANDJINA!” There came a clap of thunder; the comforting coolness of misty rain ran across Daring’s entire body, banishing the heat and fear and fatigue. The crawling things retreated: she felt them screaming in terror, in pain.  Daring streaked down and grabbed Rainbow’s hoof, pulling her up onto the pillar. The wind tore furiously at them both, refusing to let them go any further.  “Throw me at the statues!” Rainbow shouted. “I just need one good push!”  Daring nodded and braced herself, swinging her protege back. With a grunt, she threw Rainbow at the altars. Rainbow gave one great flap and glided forward, her body straight as an arrow, eyes narrowed as she carved through the air.  She stuck the landing with a shout of victory.  “Smash them!” Daring shouted.  Rainbow snapped her hooves out and all four idols tumbled off the altars, smashing to pieces on the ground with great crashes. The crashes echoed across the chamber as the walls began to fracture and tear. Light poured in from every crevice, the wind howled and screamed. Daring leaped to the altar and grabbed Rainbow Dash tight, wrapping her wings around the younger pegasus as the light and sound came to a horrid crescendo.  And then, once more, all was black.  His hoof smashed into the foreleg, deflecting the downward strike; the bloodstained knife kissed the air just past his shoulder as Phillip tucked and rolled. A grunt and a snap of the elbow brought the baton onto the side of Silvertongue’s knee. The bone snapped and the limb twisted like a fractured tree trunk.  Silvertongue somersaulted out of Phillip’s range, hobbling on the crippled knee. He scowled bitterly, exposed teeth clenching together in an expression of hate.  Phillip paused, catching his breath. His eye went to his pistol, laying in the shadowy corner where it had been kicked away, the holding straps cleanly sliced through; blood seeped from the wound that had been carved into Phillip’s foreleg by the same strike.  Twilight was groaning feebly on the floor, eyelids flickering as she tried to wake up; Trace and Red had both been disarmed and were fighting hoof to hoof with their attackers, each battling two at once. The sound of gunshots and shouting still came from behind the sealed door: rain assaulted the windows like so many drum beats. Daring and Rainbow still lay behind the shield: he thought he saw Rainbow twitch.  Silvertongue lumbered towards Phillip once more, shuffling on the wounded leg. Phillip growled and lunged at him again, baton snapping down for his front left kneecap. Forget the pain compliance, go for the bone breaking.  He heard Silvertongue take in a breath, the bared teeth parting slightly to reveal some kind of liquid held in his mouth. Phillip had just enough time to close his eyes before a gust of stinging liquid rushed into his face. Phillip yelled in pain, turning his lunge into a roll as the liquid, which he now identified as paint thinner based on the smell, burned at his eyes; he clenched the lids shut as tight as he could, feeling as though his eyes were melting in their sockets as flaming claws dug into his face.  Something slammed into his side and he twisted away as he felt the blade ripping at his vest, failing to penetrate the layer of dragon-scale armor. Phillip retreated, swinging his baton blindly.  His weapon was jerked from his grasp and flung aside, clattering into the corner. Wind kissed his cheek and he pulled away. The blade that had been aimed at his neck instead cut into his cheek; the pain atop the agony of the burning of the thinner made him scream as hot blood ran down his face. He stumbled, bumping into a display stand. Something standing upon it rattled loudly: Phillip recalled it to be a wooden statue of a tree.  A hoof slammed into his shoulder, pushing him against the stand. He felt the weight of hoofsteps through the creaking floorboards, the wind of a foreleg drawing back for a fatal strike.  No. Not dying today. Time stopped. He forgot the pain and the burning darkness. He forgot the bitter rush of fear in his gut. He forgot the sounds and shouts and grunts and oaths of combat. He forgot everything but himself, the knife that was now flashing for his neck, and his own surroundings.  He reached back, grabbed the statue behind him on pure memory and instinct, and swung. The wooden construction smashed into the oncoming foreleg. Bone snapped like a gunshot. The knife clattered as it hit the floor. A clap of thunder roared from outside and a flash assaulted the backs of eyelids. Phillip smashed Silvertongue in the chest with the sculpture, hard enough to push him back a step and break the sculpture into pieces, then seized the hoof pinning him to the stand and pivoted around outside it. Silvertongue might no longer feel pain, but he still had to go where his body pulled him, and he was yanked helplessly off his hooves, crashing into the stand.  Phillip lunged for where he’d heard and felt the knife land. His hoof came down on the blade and he hissed in renewed pain as it was cut, but he spun it about and grasped the handle.  Silvertongue struggled and kicked, but with two legs broken, there was nothing he could do. Phillip groped and seized the argent mane, thick and tangled in his hoof, and pulled his head back.  The knife plunged forward, into the soft flesh of the back of the neck and up into the brainstem. The body shuddered, jerking violently, then was still.  Panting, gasping through the agony of his burns, Phillip forced his eyes open a crack, looking through blurred, tear-streaked vision. Red was grappling with one zombie, while Trace attempted to fend off two more; every blow that rained down on his magical shields drove him further down to his knees, and Phillip heard him gasping in desperation and pain.  Another of the undead was now lunging at Phillip himself. He only had time for a glimpse of the cold green eyes and the hatchet before the burning forced his eyes closed.  He ducked, then threw himself into a backflip to avoid the followup attack that would’ve sliced through his knees. Landing, he paused for a moment, recentering himself.  Crash of hoofsteps through the floor. Phillip sidestepped, feeling the weapon pass within inches of his skull, and lunged with his left hoof. He felt teeth, hard and dry. He seized his enemy’s throat and drove the knife home.  A nasty squelching, a feeling like digging a spoon into a bowl of gelatin. The hatchet crashed to the ground, followed by the corpse.  By now, Phillip’s vision was starting to return, albeit with terrible burning and itching. He looked down to see the body of a red pegasus mare at his hooves, face blank, pink and white ooze running from one eye.  He also saw Twilight sitting up, clutching her head. She spotted the crowbar next to her and grabbed it in a magic aura. “Phil, catch!” she called, sliding the tool across the floor.  He seized it in his mouth, cringing briefly at the acrid metallic taste, and turned about to face the rest of his foes. Raising his right hoof, he snapped his wrist like he was throwing a boomerang. One of the undead fighting Trace collapsed, the knife sticking out of the side of her skull.  The other one turned just in time to see Phillip, his red face streaked with sweat and blood and tears and twisted in rage, charge in and swing the crowbar like it was the 3-2 pitch at the bottom of the ninth. Metal met bone with an ear-splitting crack and the undead spun to the ground, never to rise again.  Without pausing, Trace turned and projected his will with a grunt of effort, pinning the final attacker against the wall. Red zipped over to where his Filly M1912 lay, rolling onto his back as he slipped his hoof through the sleeve, curling his hoof around the grip and trigger.  The undead flailed helplessly: for one brief moment, desperation flickered in the lightless eyes. And then Red squeezed the trigger and a hole appeared in the center of his target’s head. It crashed to the floor as Trace released his magic.  The threat over, Phillip let out a breath. A moment later, he let out a snarl of pain. “Motherfucking wombat shit, that hurts!” he screamed, shaking his head and trying to resist the temptation to claw his own burning eyes out.  Wincing as fresh waves of pain ran down her skull, Twilight staggered over to them, already casting healing spells over the stallions’ wounds. “Hold still, tilt your head back,” she instructed Phillip, conjuring up a small cloud over them.  Phillip obliged and Twilight began to pour rain from the little cloud into his eyes. Phillip sighed in relief as the water flushed away the turpentine. Once the burning faded away just enough that he could see, he pushed Twilight away. “Daring, Rainbow,” he gasped, running back over to the shield.  His heart leaped inside his chest. Daring and Rainbow had both woken up and were rising to their hooves, blinking blearily.  “What happened?” he asked through the shield.  “I...think we had some kind of weird dream,” Daring reported, checking Rainbow over for injuries and nodding when she found nothing.  “You know how I said this is just like a Hayana Pones adventure?” Rainbow muttered, shaking her head. “I’m starting to see why that QP guy complains about the newer stories so much in the fan newsletters.”  Turning back to the statues, Daring unfurled the magical net from beneath her shirt. She paused before the idols, considering them, then placed the net over them.  The shields over the hole and the door both winked away with a small pop. Everypony waited for a few moments, but all was quiet save for the ongoing rain against the windows, mixed with the occasional distant sound of battle.  “Well, that was anticlimactic,” Daring grumbled, climbing out of the hole with her prize.  The door burst open and Flash burst in, his eyes wide and desperate, sunk into his sweaty, haggard face. The scent of blood and cordite clung to his stained uniform. “Twilight!” he gasped, sprinting to the mare and hugging her tight for a moment before quickly letting go in a shock of self-awareness.  “I’m fine,” Twilight mumbled, hugging him as well, burying her face into his neck so she wouldn’t have to look at the corpses around them all.  Phillip looked into the other room. The gunpowder was so thick that it hovered in a cloud of burnt metal over corpses, flesh, and gore. Phil made a quick headcount of the battered, bloodied, exhausted officers that sat amidst the shattered remnants of the art. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw that all ten were still present.  “Hey!” Daring cried in shock, rushing over to the dropped tree statue that Phillip had used, laying in fractured pieces next to Silvertongue’s body. “Who broke that?! That was a Marwari 2nd-century sculpture!”  Phillip just stared at her. “I was a bit more worried about the 20th-century Equestrian knife—”  A terrible noise pierced the air, a shriek of indescribable rage and pain that tore from an inequine throat, stabbing into the ears of all who heard it. The windows shattered all at once, allowing the rain and icy wind inside: everypony was sent down to their knees, clutching their ears.  And just as suddenly as it came, the sound stopped. Phillip ran up to the window and stared out.  “I don’t see the lights anymore,” he reported. “I think Zugzwang’s gone.”  To command the sun and moon on one’s own is no small feat. And Faust, hardened by centuries of bitter experience, had been teaching her daughters to fight almost since they could walk. And naturally, the armor helped, even if both Princesses had lost their helmets.  But the beast was millennia old, possibly as old as the planet as itself. And it had chosen an excellent host, blessed with intelligence, power, and talent: proof of that came as a wave of golden fire and energy blossomed from the burned and bloodied Zugzwang, sending the Royal Guards and Wonderbolts around him tumbling like leaves before a windstorm.  Celestia and Luna stumbled from the blow but turned their momentum into a double rush at Zugzwang. Hatred gleaming in her eyes, hair flowing freely in the wind and rain, Luna reached him first, her broadsword strike deflected by the Sword of Asocrac.  Celestia’s halberd sliced through the air, her strike halted by the cutlass. Luna snarled as she turned around for another strike.  A golden aura seized her throat, holding her in place. A blade snapped out from beneath a sleeve and struck like a scorpion’s stinger.  Luna screamed and reeled away, clutching her face as blood ran out from where her right eye used to be.  Celestia gasped in horror. Her distraction earned her a bolt of golden light to the face that sent her sprawling, her halberd falling away. A burst of lightning cracked through the sky, backlighting the cutlass as it was drawn back for the killing blow. The black suns shone in the emerald glow of the jade necklace.  Then came the distinctive crack of a rifle, mixing with the rumble of thunder. Blood burst from the monster’s head as it stumbled.  Two massive wings snapped forward. The beast was hurled up into the air, tumbling over and over as it fought for control. The Wonderbolts surged up into the air, forming a ring of blue around it.  On a hill far away, Coin Toss nodded in satisfaction as he lowered the Summerfield rifle.  Luna squinted with her one remaining eye and fired a spell that marked the monster’s chest with a glowing blue rune. “Marked!” she declared.  “Tracking!” Tempest barked, hefting his machine gun. A rune on the barrel glowed bright orange and he fired a roaring salvo. Orange lights streaked from his weapon, arcing impossibly in midair to follow the monster as it tried to recover. It twisted to avoid the incoming rounds, but they all followed it, striking his back with small, colorful explosions like fireworks. It’s howls of agony were delicious to the Guard’s ears.  The Wonderbolts began to fly around it in ever-faster circles. A tornado formed around the monster, tamed by the elite pegasi. The beast flapped its wings, trying to regain control in the screaming wind, only to be assaulted from all sides. Hail and ice coated its wings as lightning burned its body. Blue forms streaked through the air, striking and stabbing.  “This is for Misty, you bastard!” Spitfire snarled, rising above the funneled clouds. “Bolts, downdraft!”  The Wonderbolts formed up around Spitfire and with a single roar of vengeance, snapped their wings down. The air slammed down onto Zugzwang like a giant hammer, sending it rocketing to the ground.  Eleven firearms snapped up. “INCENDIARY!” eleven voices roared. Eleven runes glowed reddish-yellow.  The cacophony of the simultaneous firing was deafening as fire sliced through the air. Flames wrapped around the falling figure, covering its entire body. It screeched terribly as it crashed to the ground, the impact shaking the earth and sending dirt flying.  Gold and blue streaks of light raced back and forth across their target, cutting into it again and again. Blood and black ooze blossomed from the thing, soaking the cratered ground as it shrieked with every blow.  With a snap, the Sword of Asocrac fell to the ground, blade shattered. Thick, tarry liquid ran from the broken metal.  Another snap, and the jade necklace fell, the fox decapitated. The coins with their arcane symbols sank into the mud, their glow fading away.  Celestia and Luna both paused, turning and raising their weapons, panting. Blood and ooze dripped off the blades, washed off by the rain. Another crackle of lightning flashed across the sky with a grumble of thunder.  The thing staggered in its crater, its fancy suit sliced to ribbons. Black blood ran in rivulets all down its body; its head hung onto its neck by a few sinews, its limbs barely hanging on.  The thing’s eyes rolled, glaring at the sisters in hate. Then its tongues started to wag and beat the air, producing a horrendous, deafening howl of rage and pain that burned through the air. Celestia and Luna both staggered before the wave of sound; the Royal Guards and Wonderbolts fell before the attack, clutching their bleeding ears.  Before the Princesses’ eyes, Zugzwang dissolved into a puddle of black slime that seeped into the dirt in moments. The sound vanished with him.  “Damn it,” Luna grumbled, casting healing magic over her bleeding eye.  “Let me see,” Celestia said softly, lighting up her horn so she could more clearly see the gouged out wound. Extracting gauze from a saddlebag, she started to pack it into the empty socket. “We have to get you back to the hospital. We might be able to repair the eye—”  “It’s fine, sister,” Luna reassured her. “I am more angered that the abomination escaped us.”  Celestia glanced over to see Soarin tenderly pick up Misty’s body, gently placing her across his withers. Fleetfoot walked up and closed her comrade’s eyes; Celestia was quite certain that not all of the water on her face was rain.  “We must get the others and return to the precinct,” she declared. “We still have much to do.”