//------------------------------// // On the Edge pt 1: Darkness // Story: EaW: From Front to Front - The Great War // by Warpony72 //------------------------------// July 11th, 1011 Royal Palace, Canterlot In the end, she decided on the bright moon. Princess Luna had been debating on dimming the moon when she raised it these past few weeks.  If her suspicions bore out, a dim moon would make an invasion of any kind difficult for an attacker.  They’d be forced to either attack during the day, in which Equestria’s large air force could more easily assist her ground forces, or try to make the attack in the darkness, during which accidents would occur, friendly fire was a certainty, and units would of course lose their way.  But in the end, she kept the moon cycle as normal for one reason; Changelings were nocturnal shapeshifters. This wasn’t your normal enemy they faced over the northern border, this was a foe who could literally change their appearance to give themselves the physical attributes they needed, fly over rough terrain, and use their black carapace hides to conceal themselves in darkness even without their abilities.  After Chrysalis’ attempted coup, Luna had committed herself to learning everything she could about them, and it still wasn’t enough. They were like nothing she had ever faced before, and Equestria was already a malnourished state defense-wise against regular foes like griffons or monsters. The Crystal War had exposed deep faults in the Royal Armed Forces, faults that had been ignored or handled too sluggishly.  While Luna’s own influence had improved after her work reforming thestral rights with Celestia, she found that the undying adoration the Royal Army had for her only got her so far. Many of her attempts to alter training had her run headlong into Chancellor Neighsay of the EEA of all ponies. It turned out that soldier curriculum, by outdated traditions in place for centuries, fell under their oversight. Attempts to procure better equipment ran into treasury problems, production had issues with industry leaders and even an attempt to muster up additional ponypower was headed off by her own generals, who pointed out that such a decree from her when no war was active would likely be hotly contested. After everything Luna had done, she couldn’t fix the one thing she had finally become comfortable handling in this day and age.  She assumed improving the lives of the thestrals and reintegrating them into society would bridge the gap, but while she had reversed their fortunes, the nation paid for it as businesses and society were thrown into confusion.  Managers and businesses that discriminated against thestrals were promptly punished, leading to an air of extreme caution and sensitivity. As it turned out, Twilight’s proposed reforms had worked too well, too fast. Things were only just going back to normal. Luna sighed as she gazed down to Canterlot from the high ledge, with its wide boulevards, high white towers and bright lights illuminating her streets.  She should be going out soon, to guard the citizens of Equestria’s sleep from nightmares. But all she could think about was the border, and the ponies stationed there as little more than sacrificial sheep.  Oh, she didn’t want to think of them as such or to throw away their lives. But her options were severely limited. “Ah, Luna,” said a melodic voice behind her, snapping her out of her thoughts.  “I see you haven’t left yet.” “You are up late, Sister,” the alicorn of the night replied, not looking back as Celestia stepped onto the balcony with her, her pleasant white coat and rippling rainbow mane contrasting not only her own, but also the darkening shadows across the palace walls.  It seemed no matter how late it was, Celestia was always bright and radiant in appearance. “I assumed you would have retired by now. Or at least gone to relax for the evening.” “I haven’t seen you for several days now.  And even then, you’re always so busy.” Perhaps Celestia sensed her sister’s apprehension, the dark storm of thoughts brewing in her head, because she stopped short of coming up next to her at the railing.  “You’ve certainly been...invested in military affairs as of late. A few weeks ago, you were asking to review the naval budget. Now I hear you’ve called up wargames at Mariposa between the Army and Air Force.” “Only the reserves and National Guard,” Luna pointed out, now actually looking at her sister with a stoic expression she normally saved for uncooperative ministers and public appearances.  “Since I was forbidden from using the regular troops.” Celestia didn’t even look surprised, merely examining her sister carefully.  “I never said you were forbidden. I said it was a terrible idea. That there were ponies who would get in your way.” “Tia, who are we kidding?”  Here, Luna’s expression finally changed, though into one of exasperation.  “We are practically -queens-! Any decree we give is followed without contest!  -You- are the only one who can stand in between my orders and my soldiers!” “-Your- soldiers?” Celestia asked coolly, an eyebrow arching even as her eyes narrowed. Luna huffed, not in the mood to split hairs.  “-Our- soldiers, whom -you- placed me in charge of!” She spat, pointing an accusing hoof at the day alicorn.  “Why ask me to command them if I cannot fix the problems I see? Why charge me with Equestria’s defense if I cannot move them where I need them?  Why ask me to oversee training and equipping if I am denied the funds I need to change both?” “Luna, enough.” “No!” Even she was a little taken aback by her response, and Luna needed a moment to recover, compose herself and continue, now much quieter and calmer.  “Sombra is gone. But the threat -is- real. We are in danger here, and everytime I try to change something, I am stonewalled. By ministers. By budgets.  By -you-.” Luna sighed, shaking her head as she gestured out beyond the balcony. “The world is still full of peril. You have -been- there, by my side. We were not given this nation to let it fall to our enemies.” “Luna,” Celestia tried to intone gently, her face softening once again.  “I understand your worries. But as you said, Sombra -is- gone.” “And what a victory -that- was!” Luna snapped back.  “How many lost for our victory, Sister? A hundred-thousand of our subjects dead and wounded to push Sombra back.  And how many Crystal ponies died for the liberation? Every one of his soldiers we killed was a citizen brainwashed or enchanted into doing his bidding.  In the end, the only ones who suffered was -we-. Sombra was never confirmed destroyed. I know he is STILL out there, somewhere, and now abruptly the Changelings have an advanced, unified industrial nation and a massive army full of griffon-designed tanks, which they have used to conquer two of their neighbors!  The warnings are all over the walls, Celestia! And yet, we do -nothing!-” “We don’t need to do anything,” Celestia replied.  “When the Changeling economy has balanced itself with the resources they now possess, they’ll see Chrysalis for the insane being she is and depose her.” “Bullshit, they will,” Luna snapped.  Celestia blinked, taken aback and shocked.  They were from an older time, Luna especially more than herself.  They didn’t use crass language like that. While she was proud of how her sister had adapted to the modern day, eleven years just didn’t seem like enough time to break her of her usual air of high nobility.  A voice in the back of Celestia’s head reminded her that Luna had found a very strong bond with her generals and admirals, and had even toured army camps on the front during the Crystal War. Clearly, she had picked up a few modernized words here and there. Luna pressed on.  “Tia, Chrysalis is the one who united the hives!  -She’s- their savior! The very reason they won over Olenia in the first place!  What on this earth makes you think they’re going to just cast her down when the system she has put in place is -working-?  That is the most idiotic thing I have ever heard!” Silence.  The quiet night stretched on between them, the two sisters huffing as the emotion of the moment rolled over their argument.  This was not the first time they had clashed over this issue. And it was the same result every time. Luna would attempt sweeping reform of the Royal Armed Forces, Celestia would head her off and then Luna would be forced to work from the sidelines, affecting small change here, introducing minor measure there, dispensing instructions to the generals to keep them going towards possibly reworking the heap that was their defense force.  In some regards, she had been very successful. The Lunar Sea Fleet had gotten their first cruisers last year, and the Celestial Sea Fleet now had three modern Rockhoof class carriers to it. The Royal Air Force had finally replaced all their Hurricanes with Spitfires, and from what she’d heard the new Celestia infantry tank design was ready to go into prototype phase next month. At this rate, they’d be able to mass produce some time next year.  But the large scale changes she knew they needed to stand against Chrysalis’ Imperial Army were always shot down. The lack of ponypower to train new divisions and fill the gaps in existing ones, the lack of a modern, portable machine gun to give their bolt-action Lavender rifles some tactical support, an outdated tank doctrine that specifically kept armor on light and medium tanks thin because of their place in Equestrian battle doctrine, and of course the absolute shunning of additional submarines due to them being ‘cowardly’ weapons.  None of it was fixed, only softened. Finally, Luna sighed, calmed down.  She looked Celestia right in the eye and wearily asked “Why?” “Why?” Celestia repeated, not as if she didn’t understand, but more as if she were processing the word.  And that was when Luna brewed into a cold fury, sweeping a hoof to point out beyond Canterlot, to the northwest, trembling in her barely controlled rage. “Why!  Why am I unable to mobilize when our recon flights -clearly- tell us the Changelings are massing on our border?  Why am I barred from increasing recruitment rates and authorizing propaganda campaigns to fill our ranks? Why must I work in the dark, in secret meetings and clandestine calls to get my generals the orders they need to make certain Equestria is kept safe?  Why, when Queen Velvet begged you to step in and save her country, did you override my recommendations for a first strike, or even to support a resistance movement? Why, Tia? WHY?” Her voice had escalated, from a stern and cold pitch through to insensate fury, all the way up to her Royal Canterlot voice, Celestia’s mane blowing in the wind she generated.  And yet, the elder was unphased, merely looking down at her sister. Both literally and figuratively, Luna thought scornfully. But Celestia surprised her, then.  She smiled. And Luna’s rage doubled, feeling the clawing darkness that was always present in her mind returning, whispering, gleefully boasting that Celestia would never see her as her equal, always the stupid little sister to be controlled.  The voice that said she was the one who should be in charge, without inane weights holding her down. The voice of Nightmare Moon, the part of her she had locked away inside herself for years. “I see now.  Ironic. The one banished to the moon and stepping out of time has grown up much more than I ever have.” And in a moment, Luna’s fury abated, leaving her flabbergasted, trying to struggle for words. “Wha...how do you mean?” “Luna, when you came to me for help with your thestrals, I almost told you to strike out, accomplish it on your own.  In my mind, undertaking this campaign would have been such an experience for you, becoming your own mare and finally cementing your place as a true ruler of Equestria, loved as much as feared, and a firm figure.  But a dark vision passed through my mind, and I knew too much was at stake. Yes, you were capable, but I had to make -sure- the reform succeeded.” Celestia moved past her, taking up a place at the railing now herself, staring first up at the moon, then across the horizon towards the northwest.  “When you rallied Equestria to face Sombra, I knew you were still the same warrior who defeated him a thousand years ago. And our troops and public were behind you, every step of the way. But then the Crystal War ended...and the peace came with it.” She turned to Luna again, sadly. “Ponies wanted their calm, quiet life back.  To grieve their lost loved ones and to reclaim their sense of safety. We had won. What was the point of staying armed, ready for an attack? Surely you saw it in their dreams?” Luna had indeed.  During the Crystal War, the ponies dreamed for victory and safety from the evils of the north.  With her new duties of running a war, Luna had shamefully been forced to ask Celestia for help once more with safeguarding their dreams, especially with Sombra’s vicious umbrals at large.  Her war had been fought at the sides of mages as much as with the soldiers in the snow. She nodded, mollified and listening intently. “And after?  What did they dream of?” “Of life returning to normal,” Luna sighed.  “Perhaps even better than normal, as if to forget what had happened to begin with.” “Ponies are not natural warriors anymore,” Celestia pointed out.  “Our lust for battle has long been left idle, to wither and die. The Riverlands diplomats I meet point out to me the vast difference when I hired instructors from the east.” Luna’s ears perked up at that.  When had she done that? Riverlands instructors?  In her camps? Surely she would have heard about that?  But no...that fell under EEA jurisdiction. Luna had moved on from that stonewall.  Had Celestia gone around the EEA anyway? “I am not blind to the threat of the Changelings, Luna.  Nor am I so feeble as to believe Friendship would defeat Chrysalis a second time.  You cannot make friends with armies. This is a new war we face. A brutal one. An industrial one.  And so, I stalled for time. The longer Chrysalis spent on Olenia and her own affairs without believing she needed to rush to attack us, the longer you had to work.”  She smiled at her sister, who frankly looked flabbergasted. “I used those same thestral reforms we worked out with Twilight to pressure industry leaders who stonewalled you.  I kept the nobles busy with parties so they wouldn’t be paying attention to the new ships you commissioned with commoner officers. Planned railroad projects when you set up new airfields in the south and to the west so the material movement would not raise attention.  When I said how mobilizing the regular troops would enrage our populace, ponies who want nothing to remind them of the dark war we fought not so long ago, I made sure nopony was aware of you moving reserves north.” “Sister...I…”  Luna was stunned speechless for a moment. “While I admit I could have done more, or simply let you have at it with your opponents, I didn’t want the good will you had gained with the people go to waste.  Equestria loves you now, Luna. You saved them from Sombra’s legions. The last thing I wanted was for them to hate you again. However right you were. Are.” Celestia sighed, head hanging, her mane drooping slightly.  Did she suddenly look much more tired than before? “And, I will admit to a fault on my own end in leaving Chrysalis be. I truly thought the Changelings were united by nothing more than a cure to their hunger. Why else would they support such a mad creature as Chrysalis?  By the time I saw my error in reasoning, it was too late. And if I could not help you prepare us for war while saving the love you now had, I could at least make sure nopony got in your way.” Celestia turned back to Luna, away from Canterlot.  Her face was now grim, determined. “You’ve been warning me of Changeling mobilization for some time now, yes?” “Yes, Sister.”  Her recon agents and planes had confirmed as much since the beginning of June, massive amounts of forces moved to the border from Seaddle all the way across the frontier.  The few spies she had been able to secure in Olenia said that garrison units were being stripped of planes and heavy hardware, and a polar bear naval officer with leaked intel had revealed that the Grand Armada had slipped its moors days ago.  The signs were all there. “Then, Luna; I fear you will finally be proven right in these next few days.  So. I will no longer stand in your way. And I will no longer protect Equestria from you, whatever measures you feel need be put in place.  Instead, I trust you to do the right thing to protect our realm. I will support you, all the way.” Luna slowly stepped forward, until she was standing next to Celestia at the railing, both of their gazes pulled almost by an invisible force towards the northwest.  They were silent for several minutes, contemplating the impossible task set before them. “Acornage will fall,” Luna finally stated.  “The defense line was not completed. It is still understrength and suffers many gaps.  Whitebell will likely go the same. Mariposa I do not have high hopes for. Vanhoover, we will likely only delay them.  And the Celestial Sea Fleet must be given orders to sail, at once. The Lunar Sea Fleet will not last against the Changeling Armada, not after they absorbed those Olenian battleships.” “I will sound the general mobilization at once.  I can dispatch the Royal Guard to respond immediately.” “It will still take them several days at least to make it to the front.  We need to prepare for heavy losses.” Celestia nudged Luna, and the smaller alicorn looked up at the taller one.  Actually, was it her imagination, or was their height difference not quite as pronounced now? “You have a plan, I take it.” “Yes.  With your permission-” “You have it.” Luna blinked in surprise, the words dying on her lips.  “I have not said it.” “I do not need to hear it.  You have proven worthy of my trust on many occasions.  This, our most important hour, is no different.” “Just like that?” “Just like that,” Celestia assured, smiling proudly at her sister.  In that moment, both of them shone more brightly on the balcony, Luna’s star mane lighting up like the constellations it resembled, and Celestia’s coat was like a lighthouse on this top tower.  “Go. I will take over the dreamwatching for tonight. I’m more prepared this time. But from now on, we split it. We’re both about to be very busy at all hours of the day.” “Like nothing we know of, Sister,” Luna agreed, stretching her wings and taking flight, immediately soaring off towards the building of the Ministry of Defence.  Within seconds, her black and blue form was gone in the darkness, swooping down to lead Equestria in her darkest hour. Now alone on the balcony, exhausted from the day but committed to the duties of the night, Celestia took a deep breath, steeling herself. “You may be the only one to save us from my failure, Luna.” And with that, Princess Celestia flew off to do what she had always done; buy Luna time and space to do what -she- had always been best at. Sneig Defense Line, Jade Hills, Crystal Empire 19th ‘Evergreen’ Onhooves Division “Midnight, General.” Major General Deimos Falafel sighed, blowing out a cloud of hot air into the frost, watching it immediately be swept away.  Though it was by all rights the middle of summer further south, winter technically never ended in the Crystal Empire, merely relaxed its grip.  There was no snow, but the temperature plummeted to such a degree that patches of frost could still be found on the ground. The wind scythed down from the mountains to the north like an icy blade, covering his command post in a spray of early frost, normally not unwelcome to the Crystal ponies, but now an unwelcome reminder of what they faced; an enemy even more adjusted to the bitter cold than they were.  Snow and ice would not slow a Changeling down. “Any word from Blueblood?” Falafel asked, tugging his coat tighter around him.  To his dismay, the Crystal trooper shook his head, already knowing the answer. “No sir.  Mariposa’s gone silent.” It was no secret that, as vital as the Crystal City was for manufacturing the Empire’s war material, the true center of coordination for the current war preparations up and down the border sat firmly with Field Marshal Prince Blueblood.  His intel and troop movements had been far more accurate and informational than anything from the Crystal City or Canterlot, and it was in him that the Crystal generals along the Sneig Line put their trust. Word from the south was that Blueblood had been forced to secretly and silently evacuate the whole town of Acornage, turn it into a military hardpoint.  The Equestrians were getting desperate to overcome their lack of foresight. “Try Snowbury, then.  See if we can’t reach the Prince-Consort.” Falafel stepped outside his headquarters tent, suddenly feeling the urge to get some fresh air.  This late at night, his entire command post was lit brightly by crystal powered arcane spotlights, casting the area in an icy blue that did little to put him at ease.  Around him, grey uniformed ponies were constantly in motion, unicorns studying arcane patterns, intelligence officers attempting to decipher field intelligence, radioponies shouting and receiving orders at a breakneck pace.  In the distance to the west, he could see the lights from his division’s positions, eight thousand soldiers scattered across this narrow valley. To the north, the high peaks leading to Yakyakistan formed a natural, impossible to cross barrier guarded by Crystal pegasi, and the thick forests of Frozen Butterfly province made an impenetrable barrier held by seventeen other Crystal divisions, all dug into fortified ready positions.  Here in the Jade Hills was the enemy’s only possible entry over flat ground. They wouldn’t stop the Changelings, and neither would the divisions behind them or at the fallback line, but they would certainly make them pay for every inch they tried to press into the Crystal Empire. No surprise attack here like what they had done in Olenia. “Lieutenant?” Falafel asked over his shoulder, calling his aide over.  “Bring the division to alert status. All hooves on the line. If the Changelings are going to try something, it’ll be now.” The unicorn nodded, saluting as she galloped away, leaving Falafel standing at the sandbag wall, caught in his thoughts.  Dark had his dreams been since the end of the Crystal War, when Sombra’s insidious hold over his mind had cleared and he finally could control himself and absorb the consequences of his actions.  The things he’d seen. The things he’d done. Ordered done. He had been offered a retirement, but he knew he’d never function outside of the army after that. Now, he was beginning to regret his decision, as they changed out one enemy for another, merely years apart.  Deimos’ mind had been plagued by visions of dark creatures, innumerable shapes overwhelming the land as he could do nothing but stand by and watch. Worse, at times his nightmares had him participate, commit heinous deeds alongside these shadowy creatures. It was enough to make him wake in terror most nights, panting and sweating at the visions and the memories they conjured.  A hoof gently came up, touching the Snowflake submachine gun he had strapped to his flank. Never again. He’d take his own life before he’d allow himself to be overtaken like that again. When word had reached him from Prince-Consort Shining Armor that an invasion was imminent, Falafel had immediately gotten to work.  The Empire didn’t have the ponypower to last in a sustained fight, so the name of the game was a fighting retreat with Equestrian air support.  Even now, positions were being prepared along a carefully prepared fallback route, over which they would tear the Changelings a new one until they reached Snowbury.  If their line still couldn’t hold after all that, the final fallback point was the Crystal City itself, which had been made a fortress since Sombra’s banishment. They would hold at least as long as Equestria, perhaps even longer if fortune was on their side.  No word on Princess Cadance’s intentions yet, but hopes were high that she’d fight beside her troops, just as Shining Armor was already prepared to do in Snowbury. Deimos let out a breath, reassuring himself.  Everything was in hoof. They had the situation under control.  It was -not- going to be the same as the last war. “General!” Falafel turned, frowning as a radiopony rushed up from the comms pit, headset gone flying and panic across his features.  He skidded to a halt merely a few feet from Deimos, the two MP ponies reflexively reaching for their weapons a moment. “Sir!  We just lost Snowbury!” The command post froze, various Crystal ponies halting whatever they were doing as their heads all swivelled over at the radio operator’s brazen declaration.  Falafel’s first reaction was to internally panic, both at the news and suddenly having all these eyes on him. Sombra’s curse the first time had shook his confidence, and he’d never regained it.  Having to respond to a crisis like this with so many witnesses was his every fear, and he grappled internally to not freak out as he got his own racing heart under control. Abruptly being isolated from the entire army, twenty divisions of ponies, was enough to make his soul seize up in terror at the possibility of isolation. Breathe in… Count to four… Breathe out… Count to four… Okay, he thought.  This is clearly a big deal.  Time to step up, be the officer you always were.  Address the anomaly. Sound the alarm, that’s what was needed here.  The invasion may not be underway. But it was best to act like it was. “No.  It’s -not- him,” the general whispered quietly once he’d steadied himself, taking only that half moment to compose himself before he shifted to a familiar attitude.  They had trained for this, fought like this. “I need that ready alert sped up, get the division on stand by ASAP! As of now, we must assume we are being isolated from the army group!  Get me the guns, I want every inch of this valley sighted by a howitzer or mortar!” To the radio pit, he ordered “Check the lines, If it’s the weather we can call up a pegasus team to get us better reception.  But if we’re talking physically cut, we might be looking at Changeling sabotage.” Quickly, several of his subordinates moved in his direction as the radiopony scurried off, and he began barking off orders to his battalion commanders.  This. This, he could do. He had a plan, and all contingencies were planned for. The Royal Air Force would be on standby, and if the offensive rolled out, the 19th would stall the Changelings long enough for Blueblood to be warned and ready for the main attack. “Captain Frost,” he continued, turning to his chief artillery coordinator. “I need you to-“ The wind came again, chill once more, but somehow even colder than before.  It wrapped him in its icy embrace as he huddled, attempting to start again, cap pulled down on his red and black mane.  His words abruptly caught in his throat, as Falafel glanced over a shoulder towards the treeline. He hadn’t picked a direction on purpose, it was more of him running off adrenaline and locking into combat mentality. But for whatever reason, he looked away to the south.  Army engineers had scouted the area ahead of time, choosing a suitable location for his field headquarters where he could move to command the division. And he was fairly certain they had never reported any corrupted crystals in the area. Sombra’s mind-controlled Legions had never made it this far. And yet, just a few hundred meters down the hill, sticking out of the treeline, was a large, purple shard, flowing with dark and sinister energy. Falafel’s eyes locked on it, his mouth hanging open, his mind reeling. The visions returned, darkness hazy over his mind, shouting the orders to lines of masked troops, the creatures made of shadow surging past him.  The feeling that every thought, emotion and action had been robbed of him by somepony who viewed Deimos himself not with amusement or even as a toy. But as a mere slave. A tool to use and dispose of at will, nothing more. The mere sight was too much for him. All the confidence he had been feeling, the momentum he had carried, flew out of him in an instant. He had been right.  And he had talked himself down from the idea. But he -had- been right... Captain Frost frowned, watching the general carefully before he too glanced to the south. Fortunately, Frost was more on the take as he immediately recognized what the crystal implied, spinning to one of the nearby MPs. “Sound the alarm! Get security troops up here, we need the area-“ General Deimos Falafel heard the shots, felt the splatter of blood on his face. But it took him a moment to react, blinking blearily and reaching a hoof up to wipe the sticky red liquid from his muzzle. By the time he realized what had happened, his gaze slipped down to the Snowflake in his hoof, and then to the corpse of Captain Frost and the two nearby MPs on the frigid ground.  His stomach lurched at the sudden, sickening realization. Around the HQ, other infiltrators revealed themselves, cutting down officers and MPs that went for their weapons. A unicorn radiomare blew the head off the nervous stallion who had been feverishly trying to contact Snowbury, an artillery coordinator cut down two battalion commanders discussing fire control over a map of the valley.  As half his command was cut to pieces by the other half which turned out to be the enemy, General Falafel could only watch on in shock and terror, frozen in place. Unable to act. Then, a dark presence, like oil sliding over water, slipped over his mind.  His soul suddenly felt caught in a vise grip, a familiar feeling he’d certainly been through before, and the white stallion choked as he tried to turn to face what he already knew he’d see.   "No...you were destroyed!  This...this is impossible-" His eyes darted feverishly towards the radio pit.  There had to be a survivor, somepony still alive and unturned who could warn the army group!  The nation! Even as shots rang out, he had to give the order. They might die here, cut down by the enemy, but they could give the Empire a fighting chance.  But a sickening thought crawled over him; the radio lines were down. Whether that was the Changelings cutting them, the infiltrators taking advantage of the storm or one of his operators having sabotaged their sets, they were still cut off.  Smack dab in the middle of a group of twenty divisions, and they couldn’t even shout for help with their last breaths.   But there!  As one of the Changelings moved away, he spotted an aide kit, sitting on top of a crate nearby.  He scrambled over, hooves fumbling with the latch. But after a moment of panicked reaction, he had the lid open, glancing feverishly to make sure he hadn’t been spotted, seeing more and more Changelings and glowing green eyes that signaled the fate he feared above all else.  And then, with the flare gun in his hooves, he took a few feverish steps outside, aiming high and pulling the trigger. The weapon only bucked lightly, the phosphorous starshell screaming away into the sky. He’d done it! He’d sent the only warning he could, but he had overcome his- The flare was green.  The signal for an artillery barrage, now hanging high in the sky over the Evergreen division’s positions.  He had grabbed the wrong shell. He felt the despair wash over him.  And then, that dark presence in his mind was given strength, tenfold now, shadowy tendrils coiling through his mind.  His last act, his sacrifice before his ultimately cheap death, nothing but wasted effort. But he could at least face the being he had feared, and known, had returned this whole time.  Before he could complete his turn, the dark presence finished taking control, and he stopped in place, his eyes glowing green. Behind him, King Sombra smirked, leering over the ruined command post at his victory.  Those officers who hadn’t been killed by the strike force had been turned to his command, and all looked to him with the same vacant expression on their faces.  Like a shadow itself, a massive dark purple umbral loomed over him, an sentry trooper’s head stuck in its jaws, struggling feebly to get away. And when the dark king spoke again, that little shred of Falafel’s mind that remained his own (so small and insignificant compared to how much had been taken by the suffocating power) quivered in fear at the voice.  A voice he had hoped to never hear again, as if from shadows themselves, from all directions at one, at once everywhere and right behind him. And this time, he could no longer take a minute to calm down and reassure himself it wasn’t real. Because it was. “Ah, yes.  Hello again, Deimos." The general merely nodded, a blank expression on his hypnotized face.  Abruptly, Sombra heard the sound of a hammer drawing back, and glanced annoyed over to see Falafel’s unicorn aide, tears streaming down her face, revolver  held in her magic pointed at Sombra’s armored head. She must have hidden away when the shooting started. The Changelings hadn’t noticed her yet either. Sloppy.  His annoyance turned to amusement, and the dark king merely chuckled, turning away from the unicorn dismissively as his red horn glowed. “A strong one.  Always one, I suppose.  You know what to do, General.” The unicorn blinked, confused for a moment before a rattle of gunfire rang out, a bloody line of bullet holes stitching across her chest and she fell to the ground, blood already soaking into the ground.  Falafel’s submachine gun smoked, held steady as the general watched to ensure she was dead before he brought the weapon down. Sombra didn’t have to order the mare killed, not when he could have easily turned her, but the Changelings could use a show of force.  To make sure they knew -who- was in charge here. He looked up at the green flare, now slowly drifting away from the headquarters, blowing with the icy breeze towards the 19th division’s positions.  A smirk caught his lips. Already caught in the middle of their alert, the troopers below would be looking up, confused and conflicted. Radio messages to the headquarters, already ringing out over the sets he could hear, would go unanswered.  Ponies would instinctively fear they were being targeted by their own guns, victims of a friendly fire incident. How deliciously ironic. Chrysalis had warned him to be cautious. To take no chances and keep his infiltration quiet and careful for maximum effect.  Now, they could do things -his- way instead. “Let’s get some fire on those positions,” he said idly, holding up a hoof to inspect it for dirt or imperfections.  “Confusion will make it easier to turn the division, and I’d hate to interrupt the invasion timetable.” At his spoken order, one of the surviving artillery coordinators saluted. “Yes, My King.” As the artillery coordinates were fed to the howitzer positions, Sombra breathed deep, sighing as he prepared to turn his new army.  The guns fired, the shells falling on the 19th’s prepared positions. Screams rent the air. “Ah.  Good to be back.”  He glanced to General Falafel, once again staring into the distance, eyes glassy and waiting for orders.  Sombra grinned, conjuring a Legionnaire helm into being. “Thank you, Deimos. You’ll be quite useful.” He chuckled at his own small joke, once more looking to the flare hanging in the sky, its green light ghastly against the shells exploding in the trenches. Behind him, the umbral closed its jaws, crushing the trooper’s skull.  The hind hooves twitched once, twice, and then fell slack.