//------------------------------// // Phantoms // Story: Saros // by shortskirtsandexplosions //------------------------------// "Is it over?!" the flying unicorn guard shouted desperately as he zoomed past the smoldering pile of ashes that dotted the battle-strewn highway. "Is he finished?!" "Silence!" Captain Pierce Stellar shouted. As his guard zoomed in looping circles above him, he trotted across the bridge, over piles of glittering debris, before standing directly before the burning refuse that remained of the wooden passenger cart. His violet eyes narrowed on the sight as his breaths slowly evened out. The rubble was still brimming with crackling embers of manafire from Lieutenant Razsaleen's distant cannon blasts. The remains of the transport wagon were positively melting off the edge of the bridge, filling the center of the steep cavern with a pale blue glow. After several prolonged seconds, Stellar exhaled calmly. He spun his glowing scimitar about and telekinetically sheathed it into the side of his armor. "Shame that we couldn't retrieve the canister," he said in a dull tone. "However, the target's eliminated." Clearing his throat, he turned and shouted towards the flying unicorn as he zoomed by once more in the managlider. "Go and inform the Lieutenant and his blockade that the subject's been terminated! The Empress will be pleased to know that the traitor never brought the stolen item to the lunar surface—" "Captain!" the wingpony shouted, raising a hoof off his crystalline controls to point behind him. Stellar pivoted about, his violet eyes squinting. A flat black plate from the wagon's shattered mana battery compartment had somehow survived the blast. What was more, it was stirring in the center of the burning rubble. "Damnable Nebula," Stellar grunted and tugged at the hilt of his scimitar. Just then, the black plate exploded outward, nearly knocking Stellar off his hooves. He stumbled backwards on the bridge's surface and watched as a smoke-trailing figure surged towards the cavern's ceiling. Singed and bruised, a certifiably living Myrk soared out of hiding. He hovered several meters above the bridge, dust and embers flying off his coat with every beat of his wings. From across the cavern, Lieutenant Razsaleen could be heard shouting. A runic command was yelled all at once, and a fresh volley of blue flame burned towards the bridge yet again. Airborne, Myrk easily dodged the volley. He swooped low over the bridge, forcing Stellar to duck once more. The Captain turned and watched as his loyal guard flew the managlider after Myrk, firing a steady stream of manabullets. Myrk swooped up, planted his hooves on the wall of the canyon, bounced off, and landed on the back of the gasping guard's aircraft. "Corporal! Disengage—!" Stellar tried shouting. But Myrk was already pummeling the guard savagely in the helmet, making it impossible for the soldier to hear. With fangs glinting, the sarosian then bit directly down onto the guard's horn and gave a savage twist. A sickening snap filled the air as the unicorn's leylines were severed. He screamed in agony while the magic faded around him, dissolving the crystalline structure of the managlider in a blink. Myrk next dropped the guard so that he fell towards the distant web of glass bridges below. Stellar gnashed at his teeth. His hooves fumbled over his shoulder armor, finding every vial empty of lunar dust. Just then, a roar of noise filled the air above him as three fresh recruits on managliders soared over the bridge he was on. "Shoot him!" Stellar shouted after the three fliers. "And for the love of Gultophine, don't let him get close to you!" Myrk heard the squadron's roaring approach. He glanced over his shoulder and spat the sparkling unicorn horn out of his mouth. With a flap of his wings, he shot towards the upper edge of the cavern. A mad splash of blue manabullets trailed after him, reducing the available air of flight into burning flame. Nevertheless, Myrk spiraled through the cluster of projectiles, making his way sweatily towards a thin corridor entrance lining the furthest corner of the grand chamber. There was a long silver track stretched along the length of the topmost portion of the cavern wall, held up by lateral support struts. Sparks of energy surged up and down as a distant monorail approached, powered by steam and carrying countless tons of lunar ore from the lower mining facilities. Myrk saw it, and then he focused on the tiny opening to the corridor just beyond the track. Flapping his leather wings with extra might, he accelerated towards the thin exit, his tail twitching from the sea of burning bullets streaking after him. From afar, Stellar squinted, leaning against the edge of the bridge below. "He couldn't be..." His lips tightened. "The blasted wraith has to be mad!" Up above, Myrk hissed through the strain of his high-speed flight. The glow of the train's engine illuminated him with an angry blue spotlight. Undaunted, he flapped his wings one last time, before folding them in and shooting forward like a missile, just barely skirting past the violent head of the screaming vehicle. Myrk shot into the corridor in a blink, and soon the blurring length of the train blocked all pursuers. The three wingponies expertly veered off, avoiding a shattering collision with the train at the very last second. They circled limply about, the pilots grunting in frustration at their escaped prey. There was a countless number of train cars, and with the intense volume of minerals they were carrying, it would be several minutes before the line of vehicles passed along the track and allowed access to the corridor behind it once again. "Damn," Stellar grunted, already galloping towards the far end of the bridge to rendezvous with his troops and get restocked on lunar dust. "He still must be heading for the surface," he grunted aloud. "That means he can only be taking one path. Let's hope the Phantoms cut him off..." Indeed, Myrk was rocketing towards a singular destination, speeding down the maintenance corridor as it opened up into the largest lunar chamber he had entered yet. A gust of wind blew at his cloak and silver-streaked mane as he came upon an enormous cavern filled to the brim with buildings, lights, and glistening highways. Slowing briefly, Myrk reached two hooves up and yanked the hood of his cloak over his head before his sarosian skin could burn from the illumination. In the presence of so many glowing lights, he couldn't afford to be any less careful. Regaining speed, Myrk dove gracefully into the spires and platforms of New Whinniepeg below. Around him, Imperial citizens trotted in droves, clustered on elevated courtyards and long glassy platforms. Various pedestrians stopped in the middle of talking, transporting, and trading to gasp at the sight of the conspicuous wraith threading his way down the vertical urbanscape like a hot needle through butter. Myrk narrowed his black eyes, trying to focus on his destination. The very bottom floor of New Whinniepeg loomed beneath him, appearing to be an utter continent away. He dove steadily towards it, knowing that the Imperial Battery Chamber rested beyond the concrete pits below, and there he would find the ventilation tunnels that would finally lead him to his goal. His ears twitched; he was sensing something amiss. Myrk's heart rate increased as he blurred down past several skyscrapers and densely populated platforms. He tried listening past the shocked murmurs of the frightened unicorn citizenry. He tried listening past the mana generators and electrical conduits. He pricked his ears to hear beyond the booming voice of Nightmare Moon's projected image as it growled phrase after phrase of Imperialist dogma. Somewhere—amidst all the city chaos and industrial noise—Myrk's sonar found it. He detected four shapes, lithe and nimble, their bodies draped in capes and their forelimbs armed with all sorts of bladed weaponry. He flew briefly backwards, allowing himself a chance to squint up at the buildings he was blurring past. For the tiniest of blinks, he made out four unicorn shapes perched fearlessly on the edge of a balcony above. Their masked faces exhaled cold vapors and their copper-ringed horns flickered with blue bolts of energy. Then, in a second blink, they were gone. Myrk's heart skipped a beat. The air around him crackled as four bristling orbs of ball lightning coalesced beside his descending figure. With the dull thuds of localized thunder, four Phantoms materialized on all sides of the fleeing sarosian. The cloaked unicorns fell alongside him and swung their forelimbs, pummeling Myrk like a ragdoll. He gasped, grunted, and spat blood from their vicious assault, Spiraling in an awkward fall, he flapped his wings and bucked at them with his rear limbs. His hooves struck nothing but air, for the Phantoms had teleported yet again. Myrk barely had time to wince before the sapphire balls of lightning spread again and rematerialized into Phantoms on the opposite side, slamming him hard in his ribcage. "Oooof!" Myrk shouted and bounced off at a crooked angle. He slammed onto the surface of a platform and rolled like a leather log across the courtyard. Several unicorns shrieked and galloped away in fright; mares grabbing their foals while stallions shouted angry curses to the Goddess Nebula. Myrk winced and tried to stand, when fluctuating spheres of blue formed around him. The first Phantom that materialized hissed through his silken blue mask and reached a hoof to Myrk's hood, hoisting it down. The sarosian's stone-gray coat was exposed to the manalight of the buildings all around him, and steam instantly rose from the slightest contact with the unnatural glow. "Nnnnghh-Aaaaaugh!" Myrk shrieked in agony, gnashed his teeth, and smacked the Phantom's hoof away. He flung his hood safely back up over his burning skull and thrashed angrily at the assassin. But the Phantom had already disappeared, and in a clash of thunder two others materialized at Myrk's rear. They kicked at him in unison. "Ungh!" Myrk stumbled across the platform and collapsed onto a bench. He looked behind him. The Phantoms galloped, somersaulted, and dove towards him. In midair, the bracelets on their forelimbs extended shiny metal claws that sliced straight at Myrk's forehead. Myrk vaulted off the bench just as the Phantoms sailed through it, smashing the metal structure to pieces. They hissed cold vapors as the sarosian took to the air once again, only to have the other two attackers materializing with a heavy tackle. Grunting, Myrk wrestled with the two as their combined weight sent him plummeting off the edge of a platform and into the space of New Whinniepeg below. He managed to smack one across the masked face and headbutt the other, but when they released him it was a matter of their choice and not his. Gazing at his flight upside down, Myrk understood why. He sailed violently through a skyscraper's glass window and tumbled into a loft classroom full of shrieking foals. The fillies and colts dropped their telekinetic practice spheres and cowered in the corner of the room. As glass and metal littered the floor around Myrk, the breathless teacher ran over and ushered the children out into the adjacent hallway. Wincing, Myrk climbed up to his hooves, only to hear the crackle of the Phantoms rematerializing thunderously behind him. With a cold-hearted sneer, he gripped a nearby desk in his fangs and spun his entire body around. The four assassins were already teleporting by the time Myrk's flung projectile sailed through them. They rematerialized in a cape-billowing dive all around the sarosian figure, but Myrk was ready. He rose with a violent uppercut of his left forelimb, smacking one unlucky Phantom across his masked face. The unicorn's copper-ringed horn sparkled with blue lightning, but Myrk was quick to extend the blades of his horseshoe and slash across the pony's throat. When the Phantom finally teleported, he rematerialized on the opposite end of the classroom in a bloody slump. Myrk had no time to celebrate, for the assassin's three partners were charging him in a hissing blur. A wall of claws and hooves flew at Myrk in violent precision. Myrk backtrotted, ducked, sidestepped, and jumped all the blows he could. Two or three of their swipes made it through the fray and ripped at his cloak, hood, and eventually a forelimb. "Aaaugh!" Myrk grunted as his blood stained the classroom floor. Sneering, he gripped one Phantom and bodyslammed him through a desk. Another pounced onto his backside and grabbed his neck in a vice-grip. Breathless, Myrk flapped his leathery wings and flung himself straight up, slamming the Phantom’s body mercilessly into the ceiling. He slumped off of Myrk's form while the third Phantom plowed into him with a flurry of blades. Myrk grunted and fell onto the floor, wrestling with the Phantom until successfully kicking him off with a savage buck from his rear hooves. The Phantom flew across the classroom and landed upside down on the tips of all four sets of claws. In nimble fashion, he crab-walked back towards Myrk, kicked off the ground, flipped, and sailed a pair of claws straight at the sarosian's skull. Myrk ducked just in time to lose a lock of silver-streaked hair instead. He jerked his fangs up, grabbed the Phantom by the cloak, and flung him hard into the floor. Before the Phantom could teleport away, Myrk clamped both of his bladed horseshoes onto either side of the assailant’s neck and slashed them viciously across each other. There was a horrendous popping noise, and the Phantom's head rolled wetly across the floor as his two partners hissed and charged Myrk. They performed several rapid teleports in a shutter-strobing fashion before converging on the sarosian in a burst of angry magic. Myrk wrestled with them both as all three tumbled out another window, shattered through it, and plummeted towards the lower streets of New Whinniepeg. Myrk clamped his fangs over one assailant's forelimb while barely dodging the claws of a second to his left cheek, all the while falling into the depths of the subterranean city. Another skyscraper loomed behind them, projecting the intimidating face of Nightmare Moon and her polished helm. Myrk's sonar filled with the reverberating bass of her recorded propaganda, and he flexed his left wing at just the angle to spin the midair struggle around. The combatants slammed into the wall of the building. The Phantoms took the blunt of the blow, and their heavy impact shattered the crystalline mirrors that projected Nightmare Moon's face. The image of the Empress fizzled as the three bodies fell towards a balcony greenhouse below. One Phantom regained his wits in time to teleport out of the plummet. The other struggled, only to have Myrk sailing down towards him with a murderous dropkick. The two smashed through the glass roof of the greenhouse and slammed through two tables full of colorful flowers. A solid rain of glass shards and bits of crystalline projectors fell around them. The Phantom tried crawling away, but his lower limbs were shattered, and his vaporous breaths came in labored wheezes. He was gripped from behind by an infuriated Myrk, but before the sarosian could snap the Phantom's neck, the assailant's partner teleported in and slashed down at Myrk's backside. "Aaaugh!" Myrk shrieked, doused by his own blood. A river of scarlet formed along his spine. The Phantom took advantage of the painful moment by reaching for the saddlebag beneath Myrk's torn cape. Snarling, Myrk spun around and shrieked straight into the Phantom's skull. The sheer force of his sarosian lungs shattered the entire outer half of the greenhouse's glass windows. Reeling from the tumult, the Phantom leapt back, teleported, and rematerialized to land a reverse kick on the other side of Myrk. Myrk dodged, rolling over the loose soil and littered plants. He stood up, only for the Phantom to teleport again, zip over in a blue speck of lightning, and come down on the opposite side with a fierce elbow. Myrk stumbled and grunted from the horrendous barrage, incapable of touching the last fighter even once as he was attacked and slashed at all angles. Finally, in a breath of frustrated anger, Myrk somersaulted backwards, gripped a loose metal bar from off the floor, and swung it around him in a full circle. Miraculously enough, it made contact—smacking the Phantom upside the skull. Before Myrk could swing a second and far more punishing blow, the Phantom teleported again at an awkward angle. Myrk stood stock still, his ears flexing. Through sonar, he detected a body of mass materializing across the greenhouse. He spun and tossed the metal bar at full force. The projectile whistled through the air and pierced the ball of blue lightning just as it came to a stop. In a bright flash, the Phantom appeared—choking—for he had materialized with the metal bar skewering his windpipe. Before he could slump to the ground, Myrk had dashed over, grabbed him by the shoulder, and bucked him savagely into the brightest corner of the shattered greenhouse. Fatefully, the breathless Phantom flew hard into a mana generator, forming a deep dent in the energized device; sparks flew out wildly as the battery glowed brighter and brighter. The one surviving Phantom hissed in horror and tried in vain to crawl away, when a loud whining noise filled the balcony. Myrk needed no greater incentive to flee. He galloped out of the greenhouse, leapt off the balcony, and dove into the lower skyline of New Whinniepeg just as the generator exploded, annihilating the greenhouse and all other objects on the platform in a bright blue plume of unbridled mana. As the city reverberated with the echoes of destruction, the bruised and bloodied sarosian sailed victoriously downward, carrying his precious, saddlebagged contents towards the concrete pits below. Right at that time, Captain Pierce Stellar and his company rode up on the lowest highway in their hovercraft. He hopped out and peered over the edge, seeing Myrk's descent into the glowing chambers beneath the city. "Do we have backup in the Imperial Battery Shaft?!" he shouted. "We should have a full battalion there by now!" Lieutenant Razsaleen replied. "Good." Stellar frowned as he emptied one of two fresh vials of lunar dust. "Let's give them all the help we can muster. Lieutenant, you're with me! Time to finish this!" He dove off, effortlessly conjuring a managlider mere seconds after jumping. Razsaleen motioned to two more guards who followed him as they did the same, summoning crystalline blue wings and joining Stellar in formation. The four Rune Guards joined on Myrk's tail, their magical engines screaming a banshee's echo as they sailed down the concrete pits behind him.