//------------------------------//
// Chapter 9: My Only Wish is for You to Suffer 
// Story: My Little Minecraft: At the End 
// by Journeyman 
//------------------------------//

Chapter 9: My Only Wish is for You to Suffer

“Alright soldiers,” Sergeant Jetstream said to the group of four pegasi. “I’ve just--”

BOOM! 

After the thunder died, Jetstream continued. “I’ve just received the order to go down there. It’s a sneak and peek, so if we come across anything out of place, anything at all, our orders are to return to the surface.”

Four Royal Guardponies, Cloud Flicker, Thunder Dasher, Storm Twister, and Daisy Shower, their golden armor wrapped in rain ponchos lined with magic to resist electrical discharges, stood at attention in front of him. Each of them nodded in unison, but otherwise were completely immobile.

“And that means don’t touch anything, should there be anything down there that shouldn’t be. You’ve all heard that the creature from last night escaped Lieutenant Chaser’s custody.” Jetstream still had a hard time believing it himself. Nopony had ever escaped Lieutenant Chaser. “If you find that creature, or this other supposed creature the Council of Magic believes may be hiding somewhere, under no circumstance are you to engage. Report the interloper, call for backup, and sit tight. Should it come to pass that any of you are engaged against your will, you have my permission to defend yourself, but your goal should be to survive, not subdue the creature. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sergeant!” The four called out together.

“Good.” Jetstream dug into his saddlebags and retrieved five identical iron crowns with a red gem inset in each. “One of the Elements, Ms. Rarity, provided these for us, free of charge. Thank her when we’re done.” The four nodded once more, stoic as ever. 

“She enchanted them so that two taps to the gemstone,” Jetstream tapped the stone twice. A second later, a dull glow radiated from the gemstone, bringing light to the shadows haunting the Everfree Forest. “will activate a light spell so you can see.” Jetstream tapped the stone twice more and the light dimmed. He began passing out the crowns. Each soldier slipped one on, all of them fitting snuggle next to the brush atop their helms. The ponies, Jetstream included, tapped their gemstones, illuminating the ground in a six meter radius.

“Alright stallions, it’s time to--”

Snap!

Five set of ears snapped to attention. Jetstream turned around, scanning the treeline. There was no mistaking the sound of a snapping twig. 

“Stay tight,” Jetstream ordered. It was a risk; stay together to provide a more formidable attack force or spread out to minimize the chance of attack. He had to choose the former; best to deal with the enemies he knew were hiding in the forest rather than the two he did not. But what could it possibly be? Jetstream was reminded of a story as a foal his mother told him to keep him in line. She would always say that if he ever misbehaved, a pony without a face would come from the forest and whisk him away forever. He no longer believed in such fantasies, but that lurking doubt in the back of his head still resonated. What if it was the creature? What if it is something else entirely?

BAMF!

The five ponies jumped in surprise; it was as if, somewhere further in the darkness, the very air itself imploded. 

“You two, over the canopy. You two, with me down low. Move it!”





Nothing. There was absolutely nothing.

Sergeant Jetstream and his unit spent almost half an hour searching the Everfree Forest for any signs of trouble.They simply could not trace the source of the disturbance, whatever it was. How could it have vanished so swiftly? Jetstream had even called in a platoon to help scour the area for signs of life. All of it was for naught.

Jetstream sulked back to the cave entrance, meeting up with the other four ponies. There really wasn’t much else they could do in that situation besides return to the cave and explore. As much as Jetstream hated going into caves - he was a pegasus after all - he was looking forward to it; the rain was not letting up and made seeing difficult. All five stallions had activated their light crowns just to see in the tempestuous downpour.

As he came into the small clearing before the cave, the four ponies nodded in acknowledgement. It was time to go forth and complete what they set out to do.

The cave had a large entrance, but it was cluttered with bits and pieces of the forest, including a single large bed of dry grass and hay for the cave’s former occupants lodged in the back. Jetstream theorized that the manticores were not occupants long; there was only the one bed, and it was only large enough for one. It would make sense for them to abandon it in fright if they hadn’t been there long in the first place. It carried a distinct musty smell, the scent of soil and beast not uncommon in the Everfree Forest.

In the back of the cave next to the nest, there was a narrow gap just wide enough for a pony to enter single file, double if they were on a diet. After fifty feet, the corridor started to widen into a respectable sized tunnel. The ponies spread out in formation, Sergeant Jetstream up front with the four Senior Privates moving in pairs behind him. 

Everything was deathly quiet and that was exactly what they all wanted. No movement, no sound, no problem. The tunnel proceeded at a downward angle, but it was not a problem. Rarity’s crowns worked perfectly, illuminating the corridor before them in detail. It was not much else besides compacted stone and with a little dirt. The underground near the mountains was home to a vast network of tunnels, many hollowed out by underground rivers. Jetstream didn’t doubt that one of those rivers was nearby; the faint scent of moisture was in the air. It mingled with the dry, earthy scent of the tunnels but did not help dispelling the musty scent.

Their path soon split into two. The mutual decision was to take the right path and right on any additional path they came across. If the trail started branching in vertical directions... well, they would deal with that when the time came.

Not much changed as they walked. They started to see small patches of cave moss and tiny lizards that called the caves home. Small flora and fauna were to be expected--

“Guuuuurrruuah...”

That, however, was not. 

Something groaned further down the tunnel, far into the darkness which the crowns could only just pierce. The five ponies froze in their tracks.

Rumble...

The group heard rock and earth shifting from ahead. Slowly, each pony stepped back, each not wanting to be in ground zero of a rock slide. There was the pitter-patter of falling dirt and pebbles. Something was indeed happening ahead.

Crack!

With a resounding burst of shrapnel that could even be seen by the ponies, stone and earth crashed into the tunnels. 

“Run! Move move move!” Jetstream shouted.

The five turned tail and ran back the way the came. Their retreat was flanked by a wall of dust and debris, hiding whatever was immediately out of sight from view. They raced out of the entrance, a dirty-brown cloud of smoke and dust following them back into the rain and overcast twilight sky. The five ponies started coughing; all of them had inhaled a hearty dose of dust.

“None of this,” Cloud Flicker said before breaking into a series of hacking coughs, “seems right, Sergeant.”
        
“What do you mean?”

“Think about every time we’ve approached that cave so far. The first time, we were chased off by a pair of manticores. The second time, we started hearing things that weren’t really there,” He started coughing again, but the fresh air was doing wonders. “Now, we have cave-ins. I’m hypothesizing here, but it feels like we’re being pulled away from this cave whenever we get too close to exploring it.”

“What are you trying to say, Senior Private? You believe we’re being deliberately misdirected?” 

“Something doesn’t want us to go down there. Come on Sergeant, don’t you think this is a little too suspicious?” 

“In that case I agree. There is something you should see.” Five heads turned back to the cave. Out of the settling dust, a single pony trotted out with confidence. 

Surprised as Jetstream was, he laughed. “I didn’t expect to see you alive, Ms. Zecora.”

The zebra nodded, “I am sorry for my delay, but there is something I must say. Ever since last night, I received a fright and chased it into the dark. It escaped below, I could not follow, so to the caves I embarked. I searched without fail and left a trail.

Zecora smirked, something that looked odd on the mare, “There is something in the cave. It’s the dark you must brave.”

‘At least something has gone right today,’ Jetstream thought. 

“Thank you, Ms. Zecora. That was a brave thing to do.” Zecora nodded in thanks. Not only did the information confirm Cloud Flicker’s suspicions, but the Sergeant had a firm trail on something now. It was more than he could have asked for.

“But now this is a matter of the crown. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you... to... return home.” Something in Zecora’s gaze distracted the Sergeant. There was... something very wrong with the way she eyed him. He might have been flattered if she was leering, but there was something predatory in her stance.

‘Those eyes... those aren’t--’

Jetstream wasn’t sure what he just saw in Zecora’s eyes, but it made him attempt to step back in some defensive instinct. Something stopped his fearful step, but he kept his eyes on Zecora.
        
If Jetstream had to guess, the dangerous gleam she had in her eyes was... deceptive. Traitorous.

“Ms. Zecora, I’d like a word with you,” Jetstream wanted to say, but nothing came out. Jetstream tried to clear his throat... only he couldn’t do that either.

Jetstream smiled. That surprised Jetstream, because he didn’t intend to.

“To clarify, you marked a trail all the way to this... object you discovered?” Jetstream started to panic. He was speaking, but not trying to do so. His body was acting on its own accord and he had no control. His senses were operating normally: he could see his men and the lone zebra standing in a circle, he felt the shifting of his golden armor with every breath, and the fresh scent of rain from the oncoming storms.
        
His body appeared fine to him, but he could not control his actions in the slightest.

Zecora nodded in acknowledgement. One of the Senior Privates spoke up, “What do you want to do, Sergeant?”

Sergeant Jetstream didn’t know what to do at that moment, but his body spoke for him again, “I believe there’s just cause for believing we are being misdirected. Because of that, I want as few ponies down there as possible in case something goes wrong. Quarters are tight, so another collapse could trap everyone down there with no chance of escape.”

It sounded logical to Jetstream, and his unit nodded in agreement. His body gave a dark chuckle that would have sent shivers down his spine if he was still in control. “But at the same time, there’s something down there that needs to be stopped. We’ve all heard the report; there’s more than the biped here. That’s why I’m going down there alone. It will minimize casualties.”

“Sergeant! That’s outrageous!” Another Senior Private exclaimed. It sounded foolish to Jetstream as well, but his body held up a hoof to silence any further neighsayers, and took another breath.
        
“I understand your concern,” Jetstream’s voice said gently. His tone was low and smooth, enticing his underlings to follow his line of thinking. “But time is of the essences. No matter what is down there, it has evaded up for too long. It could move on at any moment and, if its track record is any indication, we may never find it again. At the very least, I can slow it down. I want the rest of you along with Ms. Zecora to return to camp, call in reinforcements, and bring along the magi. If something is down there and I stop it, then there’s no problem. If I can’t, then I doubt that four more ponies in the dark would be much help. If you return with help, then maybe my distraction will give you enough time. If I am trapped in another cave in, the magi can assist in my escape.”

Honestly, it was a good plan, even if it involved putting his own life in danger.

The realization hit Jetstream like a brick to the face. Zecora went down there alone. With no control of his own body, Jetstream would also be going down there.

Alone.

Locked up in his own head, Jetstream panic’s panic was increasing to critical levels. Something had to be down there. His voice, whatever was making him jump through hoops like a puppet, was staging a plan to go down into the cave without any form of backup. Whatever force commanded him needed to do what it intended in secrecy. 

It needed to be stopped.

“Your plan is reasonable, Sergeant, but it’s still dangerous. I know I’m stepping out of line questioning a senior officer, but are you sure this is a good idea?” The nervous Daisy Shower questioned.

‘No, no I am not!’ Jetstream screamed as loud as he could, but shoving his will against the strange bonds placed on him did nothing.

Jetstream’s lips curved into a half smile. He shivered internally at the sensation.

“Indeed I am, Senior Private. Now go; enough time has been wasted. I will be as careful as I can be.”

‘No! Don’t listen!’

One by one, his underlings voiced their grudging consent. Zecora only nodded again, wordlessly accepting his choice as the best available plan. With a few parting words, his men flew into the sky while Zecora slinked back into the shadows. All was quiet once more.

His body turned around, causing him to internally shudder against a wave of vertigo; it was difficult to mentally prepare himself when he was unable to predict his body’s own movements. Without another word his body briskly cantered back to the cave and entered the narrow tunnel. 

‘What are you up to, body? Where are you going?’ Jetstream questioned, but did not receive a response. 

He approached the fork in the tunnel and took a left without halting. The right was still clouded with a fine shroud but his eyes, his body’s eyes, were locked on the left path. 

‘Who are you?’

“...”

‘What are you?’

“...”

‘What’s so important that you don’t want nopony to see it?’

“...”

‘Are you working with anypony?’

“...”

‘Anything?’

“...”

‘ANSWER ME!!!’ Again, there was nothing. Whatever his body intended, it had completely shut him out.

His body took another left at a fork, then took the center when the path divided into three. Jetstream, through sheer luck, spotted how Zecora marked her trail. Left on the ground at intermittent intervals, Jetstream could see a single button. Clever; it was small enough to not notice, but could be spotted easily enough provided you knew that there was a trail to follow.

The cave complex began to widen so that a half dozen pegasi could walk side by side with room to spare.

“La la la la, la la la la,” Jetstream would have blinked in surprise. His body had started to sing a lullaby.  “La la la la, la la la la,” It had a relaxing, but at the same time, foreboding melody to it. It was a short tune, but given the context to Jetstream’s own situation, it gave him the chills, especially because it did not have lyrics.

Jetstream was unnerved to say the least. It wasn’t a tune he recognized. The lingering feeling in the back of his mind was that it was his own body out of control for unknown reasons. But hearing that haunting song, the unmistakable fact wormed itself firmly in his mind: He was a puppet. Somepony, some malicious unicorn act, had confiscated his body for purposes unknown to the knight. He halted his inquiry, but not because it appeared to be fruitless. If he was being ignored, it was because he couldn’t be heard, or he wasn’t going to be heard from for much longer.

The realization felt like a cold hoof to the back of his spine. Something... very bad was going to happen, and he could do nothing to stop it.

‘The Eclipse,’ Jetstream thought, but not to his puppeteer. The Eclipse was a combat maneuver only a select few hoofpicked by the Captain of the Royal Guard may participate in. Jetstream himself had not taken the course, but others like Lieutenant Chaser, Captain Hawk, and Captain Armor himself had. In the class, the participant was put under extreme mental and physical duress. Afterwards, the participant would be forced to make a choice, either resulting in death or extreme pain for an undefined period. It was designed to prepare a soldier to face situations where every ending had dire and likely painful consequences. Would a pony keep their cool and face death with courage and honor, or would they clamor to save their own life? Jetstream, although a Sergeant in rank, knew he was not ready for such a situation.

‘Will I face my own eclipse?’ Jetstream pondered. It was a fitting name for such a scenario. Created after Princess Luna’s fall from grace over a thousand years ago, the name was selected by Princess Celestia herself. The sun and the moon, together but still apart. Just as Princess Celestia made the most difficult choice of her life in those moments, so should those who partake the Eclipse.

His body stopped. His was in a tunnel with the left wall open to a titanic cavern with no noticable end. His body turned its head to the cavern, examining the dark. Jetstream saw nothing that worthy to catch his eye. Regardless of that fact, his body spread its wings and flew into the darkness. 

It was a very peculiar sensation, to say the least. Jetstream was getting used to his body acting and reacting in manners he had not commanded. Every blink or shift in muscle was awkward, but the sensation of flying in complete darkness was a disturbing sensation. He could not turn his head and view the hole behind him,  but seeing nothing but the endless blackness, even under the light of the crown, was unnerving.

Soon he could make out rock walls and... the flickering light of a torch.

Jetstream gasped within the confines of his own mind. There was something else down in the tunnels other than him. It was... an interesting creature to say the least.

At a few inches over six feet, the creature could look Celestia in the eye without any difficulty. It wore a dirty set of blue pants and green shirt over a very lean bipedal body. It matched Princess Luna’s description of the creature perfectly.

Jetstream desire to gain control of his body returned with renewed vigor. He focused every particle of his mind at launching himself at the creature. He demanded his body to react, to apprehend the criminal before him.

Nothing.

Jetstream’s will buckled and collapsed once again. He could twitch neither hoof nor wing any more than what his body was already performing. Dejected, he turned his attention back on the creature. It was raising a hand to block out the light of his crown.

Jetstream felt a horrible jolt in the back of his skull followed by a cruel smile on his lips. He felt something vile flow through his being, some disgusting and repugnant aura that exuded from his body and Jetstream’s immediate instinct was it was all directed at the creature.

His suspicions were confirmed. The creature stumbled back in terror at what he was seeing. Jetstream himself did not wish to view himself either. The way his own face was contorted into such an evil smile, the demonic aura he felt himself exude, and the way his lips tightened in pleasure at the creature’s torment all made Jetstream pity the creature. Nopony should take such perverse pleasure at the pain and suffering of another, especially if they were the cause of the discomfort. His face was contorted in mad glee, reveling in the chaos and cruelty of the acts it was committing.

His body landed, folded his wings, and dimmed his gemstone. The creature had backed up to the tunnel wall and refused to look at Jetstream. It was sobbing openly and Jetstream felt another stab of pity. It’s fear confirmed that Jetstream’s puppeteer and the creature were not allies. Did one chase the other through the gateway? 

‘Was all of today’s and yesterday’s troubles due to some grudge match?’ he thought to himself.

Before Jetstream could ponder that theory, the creature had a bow in its hands faster than Jetstream could comprehend. It’s aim was shaking so bad the Jetstream did not worry about being attacked especially with his armor, but what was curious was that he stopped smiling. In fact, his expression seemed somewhat... fascinated. Impressed even.

What made even less sense to Jetstream was waving at the creature and flying back into the void. What was the purpose of the visit? What did it accomplish? He tried to think things through as his wings rhythmically flapped: 

1. There was a portal in the sky.
2. One, possible two, creatures exited the portal.
3. Something had control of his body.
4. That something wanted to be alone in the caves.
5. It frightened the bipedal creature. 

None of it added up. 

‘...What are you up to...?’ Jetstream questioned. He didn’t expect to receive a response, but asked the question anyway. Just as predicted, his body did not alter its course or react to him in any way.

Somehow, his body landed on the other side while in complete darkness. Only afterwards did his body double tap the gemstone and fill the tunnel with pleasant light. His body broke into a quick canter. ‘Why are you in such a hurry?’ No response.

His body continued to follow the buttons, but where the routine differed was with something very, very peculiar; his body approached a random collection of rubble and started rooting through it. At the bottom of the pile was a saddlebag bulging with some unknown contents. ‘What’s in there?’

His body put on the saddlebag over his existing one and started moving, but before he could get too far, a noise filtered through the gloom. It was a whistle, very high in pitch, and had no recognizable means of being down in the caverns at all.

His body stopped, which startled Jetstream. The only hypotheses he could come up with was something wasn’t going as planned. Now that he thought of it, there was another: it was going exactly as planned.

“Twelve little stones aligned in a ring,
Life comes forth and by darkness they sing.
Flee the night, their eyes glinting.
Fear their gaze and the darkness they bring.”

The poem confused Jetstream. Again, it wasn’t something he had ever heard before in his life. ‘What does it mean? What’s that whistle?’

His body did nothing, let alone respond to him.

BAMF!

It was the same implosion sound as on the surface. His body smiled in pleasure and started walking; it was exactly what was expected. His body opened his mouth, and began to speak.

“If there is one thing above any other that I treasure, it is the laughter of children. I can not place what it is that enchants me so. Is it their perspective of events and the modern world?” The Sergeant had come across an underground ravine, cutting the path off. A small trail of buttons continued on the other side, but his body was looking down in the ravine. Spreading his wings, the Sergeant took to the air, but not towards the marked tunnel. Underground as he was, the shadows held dominion over all. His meager light source illuminated only so far, not even reaching the farthest shadows as the tunnel he came from vanished from sight. He was alone in the dark once again, but continued to speak.
        
“Or perhaps their freedom from sin? I do not believe life can be born evil. By that same token, they are not born with humility, either. A blank slate, completely and wholly pure from the world’s influence.” The other side of the ravine came to light. Without any noticeable guide or marker, he aimed for a tunnel much lower than the one he exited. He folded his wings, brushed off some dust, and continued onward.

“This world reminds me so much of children. The laughter. The innocence. The irrevocable belief that any incurred strife may be inoculated with the correct balance of emotion and caring hearts. What a foolish belief, but that is what makes it so endearing. These creatures, these ponies, believe in so much, but they have no idea how far - how fast - their monuments to their achievements and vanity will crumble when the worst comes to pass.”

‘...What are you talking about? Come on Voice, give me something.’

BAMF! 
        
The noise echoed in the caves once again. He was being followed, despite flying.

He was in another tunnel with several branching tunnels on either side. His body kept on walking down the center path, but was slowing down.

“Peace is a good thing and should be maintained, but these ponies are soft.” The Voice continued. “Too soft. Their leaders, on the other hand, are a different story.” The Voice chuckled again. The tunnel opened up to a large, central chamber with several cracks in the stone floor leading to lower levels. On the very edge of his crown’s light, something was glinting near the back. Lastly, a single button hidden next to a stone marked Zecora’s trail.

“They are strong. Strong of heart, strong of mind. They will fight when the time comes. I have no doubts about this. I see the sun and the moon will ride the chariot of war. I see a tower, black as Hell and the darkest of nights, rising from tears and blood. The fool will abandon his liege, not out of any misplaced sense of duty, but out of love. But who am I? Where is my place in all of this? Well...” His body stopped in his tracks. In the soft glow of the crown’s light, Jetstream could see twelve green blocks aligned in a square with the corners removed. Each block had a single indentation where something circular could be placed, but all twelve notches were blank.

“Well,” he repeated, “I am the emperor.” The Voice chuckled again. “You can come out now; I know you’re there.”

The chamber was quiet save for the sound of rustling below. Several large salamanders, all a ghastly white due to lack of direct sunlight, slithered up from the cracks in the ground. each one flicked its tongue out. The scent of sweat and earth was heavy on the Jetstream’s body and the beasts could taste their guest through the air. Sensing warm-blooded flesh nearby, they crawled out of their hiding spots, braving the painful light of Sergeant Jetstream’s gemstone. There were four of them total and all with identical burn scars running alongside their back, but the Voice seemed unperturbed by the dangerous turn of events. In fact, he laughed in mirth and turned to glare at the reptiles.

Shockingly, upon meeting his gaze, the salamanders hissed and whimpered. Each whined with their heads down, not daring to look at him anymore. One by one, they retreated back into the cracks from whence they came and all was quiet. Satisfied that the salamanders left him alone, the Voice called out to the cave once more, “Now that we got that out of the way, come out; I’d like a word with you.”

Jetstream was thinking events over. It made so much sense now; the creatures reported running blindly in the forest, the manticore mates he encountered only a few hours prior, it added up to one simply conclusion: a far more intimidating creature. The scars made sense; whatever was down here used other creatures to frighten away anypony coming too close to finding its den or the construct currently in front of him. The creature would attack others and its prey would rampage in fear, delaying the Royal Guard and avoiding suspicion at the same time.

If only Jetstream figured it out sooner. The creatures of the forest discovered that there was something in the forest far more dangerous than them.

Whatever the Voice expected, it did not receive it. Jetstream’s smile disappeared from his face. “Or would you rather I summon the entire Royal Guard on this location?”

Jetstream strained his ears as hard as he could, listening. The Voice expected there to be something here, but what? For a moment, there was nothing...

BAMF!

The air behind Jetstream imploded. His body did not turn around to investigate the disturbance, only stand stoically next to the construct. Even though Jetstream could not see what was behind him, the presence was not completely undetectable; small purple particles drifted into his field of view, each one vanishing after a few seconds. The particles all moved in random directions on their own currents. In was quite the beautiful sight for the Sergeant.

The presence gurgled softly, which the Voice seemed to understand perfectly. “Indeed I can.”

The presence was silent for a few moments before it made a whistling sound. “A deal,” the Voice said.

Another gurgle.

“Simple really. I know you’re constructing a gateway to your own world, but you’re running into some trouble. The problem is, so will I at a future point in time. The bargain is I will help you complete your portal, if, in return, you complete it at a very specific point in time.” His body kicked at the belt securing his saddlebags and it fell to the ground. But instead of turning around to pick it up or move it, he dragged it in front of his field of vision, not bothering to gaze upon the presence. His body opened one of the bags, revealing it to be chock full of iridescent green gemstones, each one in the shape of a single dragon eye.

“Guuruhh...”

“Because you and I want the same thing.”

‘What’s that?’

The presence whistled in surprise, but before it could say anything else, the Voice continued. “I’ll just come out and say I’m doing this for selfish reasons and nothing else. We have mutual ideals and goals, so I want us to work together to achieve them. Even if we both left this world, we both know what the Crafter coming here means: this land is going to burn. Me helping you will neither spread nor snuff the flames. If we succeed, we part ways; no more, no less. You go home, while I stay.”

“So Enderman, I ask you: what is your decision?”

The Enderman, as the Voice called it, was silent once more. Jetstream soon felt the smile return to his face.

It sung a chord of whistles and the Voice laughed giddily. “Good. Good! Now, here’s what I want you to do...”





Jetstream’s mind had locked up; his brain could not believe or process any of what he just heard.
        
“I’m glad you agree to my terms. Afterwards, you are free to say what you wish to her, suspicions or otherwise.”

‘No.... That thing will kill them all...’

“I’m afraid I must still inform others above as to this gateway’s location, but I think you are capable of doing what we agreed on without detection. Endermen are quite skilled in that art.”

‘You’re just going to sit by and watch!?’

“I bid you farewell.”

BAMF! 

The particles vanished.

‘HUNDREDS OF PONIES ARE GOING TO DIE!’

Picking up the now empty saddlebag, his body ran, not cantered, back to the ravine. “Oh dear, time has gotten away from me.”

‘What else is there for you to do?’ Scenarios flew across Jetstream’s mind, all of them with streets full of dead ponies. It disgusted him. Who or what could willingly do such a thing?

His body removed the saddlebag and rain poncho and tossed them into the abyss. Jetstream counted the seconds. ‘1... 2... 3... 4...’ Thump!

Four seconds at terminal velocity. That would be an unpleasant drop. For a moment, his heart jumped into his throat at the thought. Was his puppeteer going to force him over the edge? It would take days to find his body.

His body reached a hoof up to his head. Jetstream winced internally, trying and failing to mentally prepare for what was about to come.

If he could, Jetstream would have sighed in relief as his body did not toss him over the edge. His heart would have jumped into his throat immediately afterwards. His body had taken off Ms. Rarity’s crown and set it on the ground. His body lifted a hoof.

‘No! Don’t!’

CRUNCH!

The soft metal buckled. He raised another hoof.

‘Please stop!’

CRACK!

The crown snapped in half, popping the gemstone out of its socket. The gem immediately started to dim. Jetstream wasn’t sure if he could be any more disturbed by the turn of events, but he was when his body swept the crown, gem and all, into the ravine. The stone cracked in half upon hitting the bottom, leaving only a scant few flickers of light.        

The darkness was whole and consuming, eating the last few shreds of Ms. Rarity’s gemstone. With the gemstone’s struggle weakening, the light shrunk back bit by bit. With one final failed effort, the gemstone was snuffed out.

Silence. Absolute silence. And a total darkness Sergeant Jetstream could not escape. His breathing quickened, his heartbeat thudded in his ears. 

Jetstream blanched.

He was controlling his own breathing now. Sure enough, he bent his limbs to test that hypothesis. Everything was in working order. But that did not change the fact he was alone, in the dark, lost, and trapped with an alien below.

His breathing quickened once more. A pegasus was born for flight and the open air, to bathe in the sunlight and coast on warm thermals. A dank, dark cave was not the place for him. He took a few tentative steps forward, taking measure to avoid the pit and loose rock.

It didn’t help. When his hoof came into contact with a particularly stubborn stone, he tripped and fell flat on his stomach. Wincing at the pain, he returned to his feet. It would do no good to break his neck if he tumbled over a precipice or broke something important in his blind wanderings, so the pegasus took the air. Spreading his wings, he gently flew further down the tunnel, keeping a hoof to the wall to keep track of his position.

The process was excruciatingly slow and did little to calm Jetstream’s frayed nerves. He could not hear anything and he obviously did not have a Night Guard’s night vision, but the fact that the Voice abandoned him alone with no reliable means of escaping to the surface disturbed him. Subconsciously, he wished for the Voice to return. At least the Voice would protect Jetstream in the process of protecting itself.

Clink!

Jetstream froze his movements, not even daring to breathe. Ever so slowly, he removed his hoof from the wall and strained his ears. A rock moved somewhere behind him, but there was nothing else in the tunnel to make a noise.

Except for an Endermen.

Jetstream threw that notion out as soon as he thought it. From its conversation with the Voice, the Enderman seemed intent on avoiding attention, not garnering more from the ponies above. Why would it bother approaching him? It wouldn’t, so that left something else. Something else was stalking the tunnels.

Jetstream lowered himself to the ground as softly as he could; he did not want to try to differentiate noises in the tunnel and the soft flapping of his own feathers. He landed and strained his ears, hunting for any other sound that might alert him to a foreign presence. Seconds ticked by, then minutes. Where were those reinforcements?

Sargent Jetstream could feel the thudding of his own heartbeat and the quickened pants of his own breathing. So far, he had heard no confirmation suggesting he wasn’t not alone. He took another tentative step forward, the motion cooling his panicked sweat soaking his legs. Between his own perspiration and the cool cave air, Jetstream was starting to shake from cold.

Clink!

Jetstream’s heart jumped into his throat. He did not mishear; he was sure of that. There was nothing behind him that could make noise other than another presence. It was the only explanation.

Something hit the ground with a dull thud, causing Jetstream to jump. Something started slithering along the ground like a serpent.

Jetstream ‘s wings flew open and he took to the air. There was something behind him and it was coming straight at him. He just knew it. He took off like a shot, crashing into a wall seconds later. In his blind haste to get away, he had forgotten the tunnel was not a straight path.

Sergeant Jetstream tumbled to the ground in a heap. He shook himself of his daze and winced; he had injured a leg in his panic. It didn’t feel too bad and the adrenaline coursing through his veins dulled the pain instantly. Injury was the least of his worries at the moment.

He was openly hyperventilating now. Due to crashing, he no longer knew which direction he had taken. With no idea where he was, and no idea where to go, his knees started shaking in fear. Slowly, he backed up, keeping his ears sharp for any more noise in the darkness. His rump collided with the tunnel wall and he huddled their, struggling to hear any sort of noise. The sound was behind him before, but he could no longer hear it either on his left or right. It was that fact that caused his teeth to start chattering; fear of the dark, fear of the unknown, that scared him more than any threat of attack.

“This way...” an ethereal voice echoed to his left. It sounded familiar, but at that instant, the slithering returned on his right. Out of options and not one to press his luck, Jetstream cantered in the voice’s direction, keeping enough precaution to keep a hoof to the wall to guide his direction. 

“Stop... stop now...” The voice breathed. Jetstream did not listen to the voice’s words. Fleeing for his life, he kept on moving, a hoof always on the wall.

“Stop now... stop... or you will die...” 

‘Stay or go? Stay or go? Stayorgostayorgostayorgo.’ The words streamed forth in a continuous burst. Was the voice lying? Telling the truth? The same as the Voice that haunted him? 

His body made the choice for his mind and halted in its tracks. He could hear the slithering behind him, right behind him. His breathing was rapid and uncontrolled, his heart beat like a drum. 

Jetstream felt something wet and cold as death slither along his hooves. There was no longer just one of them, but dozens. Possibly even hundreds. Each one was coated in a thin layer of slime, squirming uncontrollable up his legs as they scrambled over each other to their destination. Jetstream shuddered at the sensation, quietly dry heaving at the unpleasant feeling.

“--gent?” Another voice echoed, but he couldn’t make out the first half.

The horde left Jetstream, quietly slithering up the tunnel. He shuddered at the unpleasantness of the experience, not wanting to repeat it anytime.

“You must listen to me...” Jetstream nodded in agreement, even if he couldn’t see where the voice was coming from.

“Listen to my voice...” Jetstream nodded enthusiastically.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” A blood-curdling scream echoed through the caves. The tunnel’s own natural acoustics only made the scream longer and louder.

“Ignore the screaming... there’s nothing there...” Jetstream had backed his rump to the cavern wall once again, quietly huddling and whimpering to himself. It was just too much. He was scared out of his mind. He felt just like a foal again, scared of the tales his mother told him whenever he was naughty or was in the mood for a scary story. Only now it was terrifyingly, horrifyingly real.

“Run... run for your life...” The voice said in its husky whisper.

Whatever the reason for its words, Jetstream followed them to the letter. He bolted down the tunnel, not even using a hoof to follow the wall. Something scraped against the rocks he had just backed up against; it reminded him of Canterlot chefs sharpening knives whenever they were about to cook.

He heard panting next. Rapid, beasial panting right behind him and closing fast. Jetstream put on a burst of speed, not bothering to take care for any more rocks protruding from the floor. They kept on panting horribly as if they could not possibly hold air for much longer.

“Jump...” 

Again, Jetstream followed the voice’s command and jumped with everything he had. His body sailed through the air, instinctively snapping open his wings to catch the wind and hover for landing. His front hooves landed on hard rock, but his hind hooves did not. He scraped his legs against the cliff face for just long enough to stop his fall and fly once again. He found stable ground and landed, but the Voice was not done. It’s ghastly, airy cadence seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.

“Fight... I hate you... they will kill you...” 

Once again, Jetstream did not question the voice. Raising himself on his fore legs, Jetstream bucked for all he was worth. His hooves crunched against something’s flesh, cracking bones under his might. One of them racked its talons across Jetstream’s armor, before falling into the pit. The other did not make a noise with its now crushed skull.

“Sweet Celestia, what did I just do!?” Jetstream screamed. He had just killed two creatures. They were trying to wantonly murder him, but the shock of the deed registered the same. He had just committed murder. He had slain a sentient creatures. No murder, not even an accidental one, had taken place in Equestria within the last twenty years.
        
“Do you feel it...?”  
        
If it was referring to the gravity of his crime, Jetstream certainly was. He held his head in his forehooves, rocking himself back and forth. “Celestia, forgive me. Celestia, forgive me. Celestia, forgive me--”
        
The Voice, however, interrupted his mantra, “Now, do as I say... ”
        
Jetstream ceased his whimpering. He needed the Voice to survive.        
        
“Run... to the light... or you will not survive...”

“What do you mean?” Jetstream asked, terror dripping from every word. Did the Voice try to kill him with the monsters he just bucked into the pit? Did it loathe him but need him alive for some greater purpose? The Sergeant did not have time to ponder such questions. He needed to start moving. 

Finding the wall once more, he walked slowly down the tunnel. The adrenaline in his blood sharpened his hearing to untold degrees. His heartbeat was all he could hear now, even over the sound of his own hoofsteps. Boom boom boom boom came the beat, unstoppable and only growing faster and faster with every step. He could feel his boots slipping with the fine layer of blood from the creature’s bodies, the sweat staining his fur, the hard vibration of every step.

“Sergeant?” Came the other voice once more. Jetstream’s ears perked up; it was a pony’s voice, Thunder Dasher’s voice.

“Over here!” He called out. 

“Sergeant? Are you alright?” Thunder Dasher replied. “I’m comi--  AAAAAAAAH--!” Came another scream that was abruptly cut off. In front of Jetstream, a small crown inset with a single gemstone fell  into the corridor from a branching path. The scream was followed up by several slicing noises, each cutting into something something soft and moist.
        
Jetstream couldn’t help himself. He screamed. He screamed until his throat felt red and raw. He kept on screaming, until he was too hoarse to do it any more 

The eldritch noises returned regardless, stronger than ever. Slithering. Panting. Scratching.  Another unseen horde coming straight for him.

“More... more...! You fool...”

Jetstream ran for the crown with all of his might, instantly losing his footing on another stone lodged too strongly in the tunnel floor. Something grabbed Jetstream’s leg with a clawed hand. Jetstream gave a wild kick to the darkness and connected with something soft and squishy. Whatever it was, it squealed at the attack and shrunk back, but the noises, thousands of them, took its place.

Jetstream scrambled to his hooves and ran toward the light. Toward his salvation. Sanctuary. Safety. Freedom.

Jetstream entered the circle of light and turned to face the monstrous horde. It was quite the cacophonous sound. There were more than just hundreds; thousands of noises flooded his senses. The sound they made, the eldritch rythme they produced, was equal parts terrible and horrifying. Moaning, shuffling, hissing, crying, weeping; it was a horrid sound to listen to.

Jetstream huddled in a ball with his hooves to his ears, trying desperately to block out the hellish symphony of moving bodies. His chin came into contact with something sticky and wet, but he did not care. He just wanted the horde to vanish, to go wherever they were going and leave the poor Guard pony alone. His hooves did not help to silence the noise. He gritted his teeth, his limbs were shaking like a child. He was huddling in a ball and wishing the horror away.

“Make it stop! Please, make it stop!” He pleaded with the darkness, to the voice, to the Guard he had only just heard, to ANYPONY!

Jetstream did not dare open his eyes or lift his head to see what was around him. The noises were all around him now. There would be no escape if he ran; there would be nowhere to run to. Creatures shuffled around the light in droves, crawling and lurching on whatever limbs they possessed. Several were squishing as they walked, moaning as if they walked on open wounds instead of legs. Several creatures hissed as they got closer to Jetstream, but the source of the hissing immediately backed off when it entered the light. The Voice was right, he would have been eviscerated if he dared to stay in the darkness.

“Listen to me... to my voice... listen, and I will leave... leave your soul...”

“No! Don’t leave!” Jetstream cried out; the last thing he wanted was to be left alone.

“Do you hear it...? That is the sound... my sound... my soul...” All Jetstream could hear was the madness around him, the all-consuming hell that plagued him ever since he entered the forsaken caverns.

“My symphony... my song...”

The sound of madness was letting up, a sign the horrors were finally coming to an end. Jetstream gave a silent prayer to Celestia and Luna, wishing for his nightmare to be over. He would not stop them. He could not stop them. What could one pony hope to do against such nightmares?

The creatures had passed, every single one taking special care to remain outside the sanctuary of light. The sounds died down, but Jetstream did nothing but quietly weep in a ball. He knew it; he was going to die down in the darkness. No pony to help him, no pony to hear his tale of the Voice and the Enderman.

Only then did he notice how much his eyes were burning. In his panic, he was sweating profusely and it was running into his eyes. He ran a hoof across his brow to stem the flow...

...Only to discover his hoof was covered in a thick liquid. Jetstream knew he shouldn’t open his eyes; he feared exactly what he knew he would find, what was currently staining the floor and himself when he huddled in fear.

It was blood. Several liters of blood coated the floor, all of it flowing from one of the branching tunnels. The Guard pony that called out to him was no more. Although he couldn’t see the body beyond his orb of light, he didn’t attempt to find out. He didn’t want to see the horror inflicted on the pony in his final moments.

“Why is this happening?” He whimpered.

“Because I hate you.”

Jetstream looked up at the sound. Another pony stood in the darkness beyond the light of the crown.

“Stop sniveling.”

It wasn’t a request. It wasn’t even a command given to the Sergeant. The pony’s tone simply stated a fact: this will not continue in my attendance.

“I do not appreciate begging in my presence. It is most unbecoming.”

“I’m sorry.” Jetstream blanched as he said that. He had actually apologized to this pony, and he meant it. In just a few seconds, his obedience had been commandeered. It was... very unsettling to say the least.

“Do you know why I left the biped alone?”

Now things made sense to Jetstream. The ethereal voice and the Voice that commanded his body were the same. He had not taken enough time to think about his circumstances, to wonder if the voice leading him by the nose from the start was the same leading him at the end. He should have seen it coming from the very beginning.

“He has heart. I terrified him, petrified him to his very soul. But you saw what he did after he realized he had nowhere else to turn.” The Shadow raised its head proudly and Jetstream felt felt more than saw it smile. “He fought back. Unsuccessfully, but still, he had more of a spine than you.”

“I thought you were gone.”

The Shadow’s shoulders moved; it was quietly laughing at him. “I never left. I was always here, in your head. I let you believe I set you loose to test your fortitude, but I must say, did I acquire you from defective stock? 'The Equestrian Royal Guard,' the creme de la creme, the best soldiers this world had to offer; I greatly looked forward to testing your mettle, but instead of taking the self-preservation route, you took the coward’s way out. I am not impressed.” The Shadow hissed the last sentence with every ounce of venom it possessed. 

The Shadow walked forward without a sound. Now that Jetstream thought about it, he could no longer hear the cacophonous horde either, or feel the slickness of Thunder Dasher’s blood beneath his hooves. Illusions, all of it. He’d been a rat in a cage ever since he regained control.

Jetstream lay huddled on the floor, not daring to get up. “...What are you?”

The Shadow took another step forward, revealing itself to the light. It was himself, his own body without mar or blemish. The golden armor shone in the light, the mane free of all debris and dust. But the eyes, the contempt they held was like being punched in the gut.

“Your Savior. Your Reckoning. I hate you, but I will save you... Save you all.”

The Shadow walked to the soldier calmly. Jetstream still made no move to escape the creature. In his heart, he did not deny his words. He had acted like a coward and still did.

The Shadow placed a hoof against Jetstream’s cheek. “So small, your race is.” It put another one on the other side, cradling Jetstream’s head carefully. “So easy to break. So easy to sweep away.” It’s voice was not condescending, but restrained. It was as if the pony it held in its hooves was something to be treasured or protected, to lock it away from harm.

The faux Jetstream placed its head against Jetstream’s. It stood there without a sound and quietly rocked back in forth. Its eyes closed, diminishing the light intruding on its eyes. It did not speak, and Jetstream dared not either. The leviathan, the beast in front of him, had Jetstream’s life and body in its hooves, and Jetstream accepted that fact. They held their positions, and in that time, the Shadow did not speak a word and Jetstream dared not interrupt its meditation.

Either minutes or an eternity later, the Shadow moved away from Jetstream. They stared into each other’s eyes, one a soldier, the other something far, far more. It was only then that Jetstream mustered the courage to ask the most pressing question, “Are you going to kill me?”
        
The Shadow gazed down the tunnel. Jetstream followed his example and looked as well. He could see the minute glow of light coming from one of intersections further down the tunnel. Reinforcements were coming. They were very close, but what would this creature do to such ponies?

“No.” Jetstream looked back to his copy and opened his mouth in surprise, causing the Shadow to chuckle merrily. “I do not needlessly kill, even if I find those in my presence distasteful; I find doing so to be a distasteful practice in itself. Plus, it leaves a trail that I do not like to leave. I just needed a Guard to report to his leader. For that opportunity to present itself, whispering to the outlander’s mind was enough to push her in the direction I needed without taking full control.”

The light was growing brighter. Jetstream could hear hoofbeats against the hard earth and stone.

“What’s stopping me from telling them everything?”

“Nothing.”

The bluntness of his copy surprised him. Did it really intend to let him be? With its abilities, it could crush them all in a blink.

Jetstream cocked his head to the side in worry, “Why are you--”

The Shadow smiled coyly. It gave Jetstream shivers. Whatever diabolical thoughts hid behind those blue eyes, Jetstream couldn’t fathom any of it. “Because there is something I hate more than you.” The Shadow backed up without a sound and disappeared into the shadows. The light of the crown began to dim as well, but Jetstream did not mind the darkness anymore; its master was leaving. However, it gave a few more words before finally departing, “My work is complete... now I leave your soul...”

The crown lost its glow, but Jetstream’s backup had turned the corner, flooding the tunnel with light. Jetstream held a hoof over his eyes to shield them from the brightness.

“Sergeant!”

Urk!

Jetstream dry heaved repeatedly. He felt like he had just passed through an industrial haze and came out on the other side. The pollution he didn’t know he had been feeling all along had vanished. Jetstream breathed in the stale air of the cave. Air had never felt so sweet. It was like being reborn, like something unclean had been wiped away from his being.

The small army had come to his aid and several magi started scanning him with their horns. A fellow Sergeant helped up off the dry, dusty floor and stepped back, allowing the soldier some room.

“What happened, Sergeant?” One magi questioned.

Jetstream ignored the question. “Has anypony gone down there besides your group?”

“No, Sergent. Why do you ask?”

“Because...” Sergeant Jetstream started, but the rest of his response died on his tongue. Because what? He dusted himself off, trying to think. He had entered the caves... and nothing else. 

A memory popped into his mind: him approaching a gateway with twelve empty slots.

“The report received from Ms. Zecora was correct; there is some sort of structure or gateway down in the caves.” 

‘Was there anything else down there?’ He knew there was the unconfirmed possibility of an additional intruder but... Jetstream couldn’t remember. 
        
He lined up his thoughts one more time. He entered the cave, found the portal, and... ended up in front of a crowd of soldiers. Jetstream ran a hoof through the brush on his helmet in irritation and came to another startling revelation. He had somehow lost Ms. Rarity’s crown. Why couldn’t he remember anything in between events?

“Sergeant? Are you alright?” A Senior Private asked. Seeing the rank made his heart skip a beat. Why? 

“No... I don’t think so. Somethin... something’s not right.” Jetstream shook his head. He had lost about a half hour’s worth of memory. “Let us proceed to the gateway. I still remember the path to Ms. Zecora’s trail, at least.”

“What do you mean by that, Sargeant?”

Jetstream couldn’t quite put a hoof on it himself. Why did he say that? “Nevermind, Senior Private. Let’s go.”





Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Edited by: Wearing Hat, Wolfmaster1337, Cor Thunder