Legion

by Thule117

The Two Kings

-Excerpt from the Book of Angels

Derran stared out across the battlefield, an expression of horror upon his face. The enemy was everywhere. Shadowy and indistinct, their form could not be made out, even amid the burning corpses and wreckage of the battleground. No sooner did Derran look at them, than they would seem to dissolve into vague smudges, or flit away into the darkness. Screams and shouts echoed through a sky that was obscured by endless black cloud cover, lit from below by the fires of war, to glow a dirty reddish orange. The mortal cries on the wind only silent when they were blotted out by the sounds of explosions or gunfire. The air thick with the smell of ash and spilled viscera.

The ground beneath Derran's feet was a muddy quagmire. Blood, rain, and the stomping of thousands of booted feet, having turned the earth into a viscous sludge. Despite his superhuman strength, Derran struggled to move. The muck gripping his armored boots like a vice. Forcing himself forward, Derran tried to figure out where he was. He seemed to be on the defensive side of some crude dirt and stone fortification, that was currently blocking any view of what lay beyond it. What was on his side was impossible to recognize. As the enemy, who seemed not to have noticed him yet, had reduced almost everything to a blazing ruin.

Deciding he needed a better vantage, Derran began climbing the earthen redoubt. It was slow going, especially as it seemed his jump boots were inoperable. The muddy earth slipped between his fingers, denying him all but the most tenuous purchase. Overhead, he noticed the intensity with which the cloud cover reflected the ruddy light from below. Suggesting a sizable blaze was beyond. Perhaps the fortification network was only a small part of a larger fortress that had been put to the torch? 

As Derran climbed, he struggled to recall how he had gotten here, and who or what exactly he was fighting. This wasn't Hell, the strange shadowy humanoid figures were almost certainly no demon he had ever faced. Not to mention there was no night in that accursed dimension. Was this Mars perhaps? He had only seen one part of the planet after all, and though he was given to understand the entire world was inimical to life, perhaps he had been mistaken. Finally, Derran reached the top of the earthen wall. However. . . when he straightened up, and stared down at the flaming structures below, Derran realized he had been wrong. This was indeed Hell. For Ponyville. . . was burning.

A horrified numbness took over Derran's body and mind, as he stared down at his penultimate fear made manifest. It was all in flames. Every home, every store, every woodshed and shack. Sugarcube Corner was a blazing ruin, as was the town hall. Carousel Boutique was a mocking horror show of its namesake, flaring away merrily, while its carbonized support beam skeleton, shone through the flames. The cobblestone streets were all but erased under the craters of artillery shells, the stone and stucco walls of the houses pockmarked by machine gun fire. Abandoned sandbag emplacements guarded overrun choke points, as running battles still raged through the streets.

The shadowy creatures from before, exchanged fire with human figures in, once shining, magetech armor. The suits tarnished by soot and blood, and rent by gunfire and plasma. In some places the armored figures drew swords of blazing light, charging at the enemy with fury and holy zeal. However, none of that even registered with Derran, as he saw the corpses at their feet. 

Some were torn apart by explosives, or so riddled with bullets they could barely be recognized. Some were burned by napalm or plasma, others stabbed to death or hacked apart by blades. Yet there was not a one Derran did not recognize. Minuett, Octavia, Aloe, Lotus, Daisy, Sawdust, Chipotle Pepper, Lilly Brownstone. . . with every face and name that flitted silently through his head, Derran felt his guts twist. His mind reeling, as it struggled to stay in one piece. The spell was only broken, when Derran's gaze found its way to Twilight's castle.

At first, the numbness held strong, as Derran took in the castle itself. Shattered like a glass ornament, a full two thirds of it were completely gone. With what remained only barely staying attached to the trunk of its cracked and scorched tree-like structure. Derran stared at the ruin that was Twilight's and his home with a sense of detached disbelief. That crumbled. . . as he saw the group of bodies hanging together in front of the entrance. Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Fluttershy, Starlight Glimmer, Spike, all four of the Crusaders, Derpy Hooves, and. . . Twilight. As his eyes fell upon them, Derran fell to his knees, clawing at his face, as he howled and screamed like a wounded animal.

They hadn't just been killed, they had been executed! Each slain by a single gunshot to the back of the head. Yet, as if that weren't monstrous enough, their bodies had been hung from the remains of the castle by nooses made of blood soaked razor wire. But the horror, didn't stop there. Even from this distance, Derran could see signs of mutilation and torture. Bloody wounds on their backs and flanks where they had been whipped. Bruised and broken limbs telling of brutal beatings. Horns and wings cut off for trophies. . . Seeing such defilement was beyond anything a sane mind could endure.

Derran shrieked and cried as he punched at the earth hard enough to crater it, his grief and rage beyond the power of any language to describe. His sense of self dissolved amid an torrent of mind shattering emotional agony. He screamed, roared and wept. Then he wept, roared, and screamed. The cycle of torment and fury endlessly shuffling and repeating. Only when he felt a hand on his shoulder, did Derran find the power to act.

In a blur of movement, Derran surged to his feet, turning as he did so. Half blinded by tears, he fastened his hands around the throat of the one who had disturbed him. With a strength pushed to truly god-like proportions by rage and sorrow, he lifted the powerfully built armored figure, into the air, as if he weighed no more than a straw doll. Only the barely recalled voice of one of his brothers, prevented Derran from ripping the figure's head from his shoulders.

"My Lord! Please!" The man wheezed out, his throat nearly collapsing under the pressure of Derran's grip. Dropping him, Derran stared down at the man with an expression gone mad with hatred and grief. Coughing as air reentered his lungs, Derran's brother stared up at him in fear. Derran couldn't quite tell who this brother was. His face oddly hard to place, despite the familiarity of his voice. Recovering swiftly, the man spoke, rubbing his throat as he did so. "My Lord Doom Slayer, I was sent to fetch you by Lord Santius. We are falling back my Lord, this sector is lost, and. . ." Here the messenger paused, seeming to fight back tears of his own.

"And what?!" Derran's voice was so twisted by his hate and heartbreak, it no longer even sounded human. The messenger flinched, tears leaking from his eyes, as he spoke in a tone filled with shame and suppressed pain.

"And we just received word. . . Ladies Celestia. . . Luna. . . Cadence. . . and Flurry Heart. . . they're all dead!" At that, the messenger broke down, sobbing. For a time, Derran stood frozen, until the messenger's demeanor changed. . . Shadows lengthened around him, hiding his face in darkness. As the sound of his tears ceased. "Why didn't you save them?!" The messenger snarled, his voice suddenly twisted and hateful. 
Inexplicably, Derran's rage vanished, to be replaced by a slowly mounting horror. "You could have saved them!!" The messenger hissed, his voice growing in volume as he got to his feet. Glaring down at Derran, the strange brother's size increased, his armor bursting apart, as he grew into a distorted parody of a man. Towering over Derran like a misshapen mountain of muscle, and fixing him in place with burning red eyes, that wept tears of blood. "You could have saved them! But you held back! They died because you refused to do what was needed! This is because of you. . . IT'S ALL BECAUSE OF YOU!!" The messenger roared, his voice shaking the earth and sky with its thunderous volume. Derran wanted to deny it, but an icy hand of cruel realization closed about his throat. As he somehow knew his brother's words to be true, though he could not recall what he had done to make them so. 
"THEY TRUSTED YOU! TO KEEP THEM SAFE! TO PROTECT THEM!! AND YOU! LET! THEM!! DIE!!!" The messenger, now over twenty feet tall, grabbed Derran by his neck. Hoisting him into the air effortlessly, with a hand big enough to crush boulders. His face still concealed by strange impenetrable shadow, the messenger locked his wrathful gaze with Derran's. "WEAKLING! LIAR!! COWARD!!!" Suddenly, the mysterious brother's voice became a cruel whisper. "Murderer. . ." Silent tears streamed from Derran's eyes, as his mind went blank. All around him, the fires of destruction consumed Equestria. As his titanic brother, letting out a bestial roar, hurled Derran into the flames. . .
 

Derran sat bolt upright in bed, using every ounce of his immeasurable willpower, to force down the scream pounding at the back of his throat. He was lathered in sweat, and breathing heavily. His eyes wide and his pupils dilated, as he stared frantically around the interior of Twilight's bedchamber. With a jerk of his head, Derran looked down at the space next to him, and immediately felt a sense of relief wash over him. . . There was Twilight, her eyes closed, and her breathing steady, as she continued to sleep.

Shaking his head, Derran struggled to get his emotions and body back under control. Taking a deep breath, he forced his hands to stop trembling. It was times like this, he was both regretful, and grateful, that lady Luna was unable to enter his dreams. While he would have been cheered beyond words for an early reprieve from his nightmares, he was even happier to know his beloved would never have to witness their horror. 

This nightmare though. . . it had felt so monstrously real. The charnel stink. The smoke and ash. The horror and fighting. And his beloved family, strung up like carcasses in a butcher's shop. . . That unspeakable image was seared into his brain as surely as if it had been branded there. Leaning back, Derran placed a still slightly shaking arm, protectively around Twilight. He felt her instinctively snuggle close and wrap her hooves around him. Murmuring happily in her sleep.

Derran and Twilight had yet to be. . . intimate with one another. However they nonetheless slept in the same bed, at Twilight's request, and had done so for a few months now. Derran had seldom been as glad of that, as he was in this moment. As, had Twilight not been at his side when he had awoken, he likely would have torn both their doors off their hinges in blind desperation to get to her. Letting out another attempt at a calming breath, Derran looked down at his sleeping love.

He had never noticed just how. . . small, Twilight looked compared to him. Only standing about four and a half feet tall, not counting her horn, and about five feet end to end, including her tail, head, and neck. She was easily dwarfed by his six foot, well muscled and broad shouldered frame. Even now, her head only took up about two thirds of the space on his chest, again not counting her horn. She looked so delicate, fragile, helpless. . . Her toned body showed only the barest amount of fat, but also little in the way of true muscle. Granted, as a seraphim, she was far stronger than she looked. Her physical power easily on par with the mightiest earth pony athletes, and as her divine power developed, she would eventually outstrip even Derran in terms of sheer physical might. Nevertheless, at that moment, asleep and unaware, Twilight looked unbearably vulnerable.

Glancing at the clock, Derran saw it was nearly three in the morning. Laying back once more and staring at the ceiling, Derran recalled all the fears he had thought put to rest the previous day. Was he being naïve? Not perhaps about the character of the ponies, but what of other things? That dream. . . it had been so vivid, so crystal clear. Derran had felt the heat of the flames. Smelled the blood and smoke. He had heard the wails of the dead and dying. And his mysterious brother's words. . . 

"Was it a dream? Or perhaps. . . a vision?" He whispered, so softly he himself barely heard it. He idly ran his fingers through Twilight's mane. Strands of hair like silk, running through his fingers like water.

Who had that strange shadowy enemy been? They didn't look like demons, and used weapons not at all dissimilar to Derran and his brothers armaments. Come to that, the mere fact that his brothers had been there at all, felt strange. Derran's, thankfully infrequent, nightmares, tended to be more solitary. His brothers had almost never featured in them, save on the rare occasions he dreamt of those he had slain or witnessed the deaths of, back before they came to the holy land. But seldom before had they appeared in full battle armor, and never had they appeared in Equestria. 

+Something rotten is on the wind. . .+ Spoke a dark voice from Derran's subconscious. Unwelcome as it usually was, Derran felt oddly relieved to hear his mental prisoner speak.

"And what brings you to the waking world, Doom Slayer?" Derran mentally heard the second mind within him scoff.

+You even need to ask? Same as you asshole.+ Derran was surprised to feel the Doom Slayer release the mental equivalent of a deep breath. +That dream was. . . well, 'fucked up' is a good place to start. Guess it was bad enough that your bitch ass unconsciously let me off the leash a bit and called me up here. Thanks for that by the way.+ He snarled sarcastically. Derran, ignoring the Slayer's insults, stared at the ceiling of Twilight's room.

"You think something is coming?" Derran asked, a frown appearing on his face. He felt the Doom Slayer shaking his head.

+Fuck knows. Maybe? Real question is: what are we gonna do about it if it does?+ Derran looked down once more at Twilight, her face scrunched up strangely, as she fidgeted in his arms. Whatever dream she was having clearly distressing her. Suddenly, he felt a dark fury come over him, at the mere thought of anycreature trying to harm any of his beloveds, or the rest of his friends and family. 

"We hope for peace. We hope, that we are wrong." Derran felt the Doom Slayer frown.

+And if we're right?+ In his heart, Derran's dark fury, became a barely controlled hateful inferno, his rage blazing white hot in his breast. As he leaned down to whisper in Twilight's ear.

"If foes come seeking to harm my family. . . Then we will kill them. . . We will kill them all." At that, Twilight stopped fidgeting. Yet. . . even as she clutched Derran tighter, her features were etched with a look of worry. . .

Once again, Twilight traveled down the featureless, shadowy corridor of her reoccurring dream. Once again, she came to the end, to behold the two aspects of the man she loved, locked in mortal combat. And once again, the same five objects appeared before her. The roses, the daggers, and the scale, all hovering in the air as if waiting for her arrival. And yet, for all that it was the same, this time something was different. . .

There was a faint smell in the air. An odor of sulfur, so diffused that it could barely be detected, yet unmistakably there. Twilight's ears pricked, as a sound that was less even than a whisper, echoed through the air. A sound like. . . metal clashing against metal, and a faint boom, not unlike thunder. Straining to listen, Twilight nearly jumped out of her skin, as she heard the duel voices of Derran and the Doom Slayer cry out in unison.

"A WEAPON TWILIGHT!! BRING ME A WEAPON!!" So startled was she by their voices, that Twilight had grabbed the daggers in her levitation field, and was half way to the nearly identical frozen figures, before she forced herself to stop. Something about the two armored figures had changed. Most ponies might not have noticed in time, but years of being a mage and scholar had honed Twilight's observational skills to a razors edge. 

The position of the figures had not changed, nor had their expressions. One still gripped by howling rage, and the other still bound by an equally intense, grimacing, disdainful, hate. Both still wrestled with fingers locked, and palms pressed together, as if each was trying to push the other off an invisible cliff. And at first glance, the pool of ebony liquid they stood in seemed as static as ever. Or so it would appear to most. . .

But Twilight saw. Saw the tiny, almost invisible, black filaments creeping up from the pool. Thinner than a spider's thread, the tendrils of black had affixed themselves onto the boots of both combatants. Reaching no higher than either being's ankle, the filaments looked delicate enough that a strong breeze could sever them. Yet somehow, Twilight knew they were far stronger than they appeared.

"THE DAGGERS TWILIGHT!! PLEASE GIVE ME THE DAGGERS!!" Twilight nearly screamed, as the shouted plea thundered in her head, like a gong had been struck directly inside her brain. Her heart was filled with terror at the thought that Derran was in trouble. Yet, after only a few more steps, Twilight forced herself to stop once more.

"No!" She gasped out, her will stretched to the breaking point, as she resisted the urge to comply with her love's frantic request. "Something. . . something's wrong!" Instantly, the twin voices cried out again, desperation in every syllable.

"PLEASE TWILIGHT I CAN'T LOSE-." The two voices halted, transitioning into a pair of agonized screams. As in an instant, the black filaments around their feet pulsed and grew. Becoming as thick as jungle vines, the tendrils surged upward in an explosion of growth. An evil looking red energy crackled across coils like living tar, as they cocooned Derran and the Slayer in an instant. Twilight felt her heart and mind become consumed by horror, as she rushed forward, bolts of purple light flying from her horn, as she tried to blast the vile substance off her beloved's two bodies. 

It was pointless, the magic simply caroming off the writhing mass Derran and the Slayer had become. Suddenly, a wail of despair, in a familiar voice, was heard.

"Twilight! What have you done?!" Celestia screamed out. Turning, Twilight saw her and Luna standing there, looks of abject horror frozen on their faces. Instantly, Twilight felt her very soul seize up. 

"I. . .I didn't. . . something was wrong!" She cried out. "The Daggers! I didn't. . ." Twilight trailed off, uncertain what to say or think.

"We trusted you Twilight!" Luna called out, her voice choked with tears. "We thought you loved us! Loved him!" Twilight shook her head in desperate denial, even as words deserted her.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?!!" Celestia wept. "You've killed him Twilight!!"

"NO!" Twilight cried out. "No I'd never! I-I wouldn't. . . I love him!" Celestia glared at Twilight, her eyes filled with hatred, and her voice overflowing with venom.

"Loved him?! LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO HIM YOU FOAL!!" Celestia roared. Twilight turned to see that the pulsing mass, had become some twisted beast of shadow. A swirling abomination that was covered in mouths full of glittering white teeth, and randomly placed burning red eyes. Twilight's mind felt on the verge of collapse, until suddenly. 

"If foes come seeking to harm my family. . . Then we will kill them. We will kill them all."

At that utterance, Celestia, Luna, and the monster Derran and the Slayer had become, dissolved into black mist. Yet as the dark bliss of slumber returned, Twilight couldn't help but think, through the haze of returning oblivion. That that final echoing declaration, in a voice tinged with cruel malice, didn't sound much like salvation. . . 

Hayden stared at the portal machine, a steel doughnut-like ring, approximately eight feet wide and tall, with the ring itself having a girth of about two feet. Around the outer circumference of the portal, thick cables were plugged in at specific intervals. While knobs of metal stuck out from the inner circumference at equally precise points. The metal was otherwise unadorned, the ring bolted securely into a cradle, which was in turn bolted to the warehouse floor.

Technically, this portal was actually the prototype, the final versions, currently under construction, would be much larger. Each at least twenty five feet tall and wide, allowing for the swift deployment of hundreds, or even thousands of soldiers within minutes. That was important, considering the limited supply of argent energy, and that Hayden was under no illusions that this was going to end in conflict.

His speech the previous night, though only he knew it, had been scarcely more than political theater. While it was true he wanted to avoid conflict if at all possible, it was monstrously unlikely. Honestly, he would be more than happy to simply kill the Doom Slayer, rip the Crucible from his cold dead hands, and call it an evening. However, there were currently two things that precluded this. One, was the fact that if another incident, however unlikely, such as what occurred on Mars came to pass, the Doom Slayer was likely the only being capable of stopping the ensuing demonic invasion. And second, was the fact that Hayden seriously doubted it was even possible to kill a man so terrifyingly powerful, that Hell itself trembled at the mere thought of him. Logically, Hayden knew it could be done, but considering the foes the Corax tablets claimed the Doom Slayer had bested, and Hayden's own data on the events of the Mars invasion, and he was in no hurry to test his luck if it could be avoided. Still, Hayden wouldn't have been the man he was, if he hadn't had contingencies.

Hayden had crafted dozens of plans in preparation for when he once again faced the Doom Slayer. However, he wouldn't truly know which to use, until he understood the situation on the ground. He currently knew nothing about the dimension the Slayer was in, nor what creatures resided there. He wasn't even one hundred percent sure the seraphim were involved, despite his claims to the ARC counsel. All things being equal, Hayden was taking a significant gamble. Not something he, as a man of science, was fond of.

As Hayden's mind mused about the possibilities and risks, he ran countless simulations in the back of his head. The quantum computer that served as his brain now, was seldom idle, even before the current crises. Its projections and predictions allowing him an all but supernatural ability to plan out how to approach any situation. It was what allowed him to know exactly what to say and do to get what he needed. And was a large part of how he had gained the position he now enjoyed. However, his simulations were only as accurate as the available data. Thus, without any understanding of the world he was walking into, and with little insight into the psyche of his quarry beyond his actions on Mars, and the histories provided by the Corax tablets, he was largely in the dark. So he was resorting to relying on designing as many strategies as possible, in hopes that one or more might prove useful.

Around Hayden, the warehouse teemed with activity. Scientists and military personnel moving around, or hunched over, banks upon banks of computers. Figures were checked and rechecked, charts were consulted, and data was entered and analyzed. Soldiers guarded entrances festooned with security apparatuses, and patrolled the gantries and walkways above. All were armed with shotguns or heavy cannons, with orders to detain or shoot anyone unauthorized. Secrecy and compartmentalization of information, was paramount. After all, depending on the situation, decisions might need to be made that were. . . politically unpalatable. 

Hayden would of course always act to preserve humanity, but even when he was a normal man he had become painfully cognizant of how shortsighted his species could be. Honestly, it was why he had always known that one day, he would need to take control. Mankind, whether they admitted it or not, simply wasn't yet capable of seeing the big picture. Always arguing the morality or necessity of every situation, paralyzed by unwillingness to see things with logical clarity. 

Besides, it wasn't as if Hayden intended to be in control forever, just until his fellow humans were ready for the responsibility of self governance. As far as Hayden was concerned, his role was like unto a parent, guiding his children until they were ready to leave the nest. Unfortunately, for the moment, they were still just that: children. Still afraid of risk, or anything they didn't understand. Hayden recalled the uproar it had caused when he explained the source of argent energy to the ARC council, and that had been only twelve people. What was that saying? No one ever want's to know how the sausage is made?

"Sir." Hayden continued to stare at the portal for a moment, before responding in a suitably somber tone.

"Yes Sergeant Cooper?" He asked, turning to look at the saluting man, his helmet held under his opposite arm.

"Everything is ready sir." Hayden liked Cooper, he was always quick and to the point, and was never without a frown that was all business. Not to mention, as a former special forces wet-work, and interrogation expert, with over fifteen years of field experience. He and his team weren't the type to question orders. Even if those orders might not be strictly in keeping with the law. 

"Excellent, then let us begin. Are your men ready Sergeant?" Hayden already knew they were, but it never hurt to at least pretend he cared about their emotional state. Standing ramrod straight, the sergeant gave a curt nod.

"Sir yes sir." Hayden, sedately returned the nod.

"Good, now then. . ." Turning, Hayden signaled to one of the white coated individuals in front of the closest computer console. With a nod, the man tapped something into his keyboard. A moment later, a low hum was heard, as the power conduits attached to the portal began to spark with power. The hum built up louder and louder, as the entire portal was gradually wreathed in lightning. A smell of ozone permeated the air, as motes of electric blue energy appeared within the portal ring. The atmosphere in the warehouse became heavy, as the lights flickered amid the snap of electrical discharge.

"Power fluctuations at point zero seven six percent!" Cried out an engineer.

"Spatial dampening at full!" Called out another.

"Spacetime distortions are exceeding projections! Give it more power!" A third cried.

Through it all, Hayden faced the portal, watching as the blue motes coalesced into a swirling ring, around a disc of pure darkness. He had been through this once before, though no one else in the warehouse knew it. Back then, the ring of energy had been red, and the smell of ozone had mixed sickeningly with the reek of brimstone and spilled blood in his olfactory sensors. He recalled back then, that several of the engineers had gone mad as the portal opened. Smashing their heads open against their consoles as they screamed in terror and agony. Others vomited, or fell into a catatonic state, as they muttered strange things in unknown languages. This time, was different. . .

As the portal stabilized, a scent like fresh flowers permeated the room, as a barely audible sound like wind chimes was heard. A strange, tranquil silence, settled over everything, as several men and women paused what they were doing, a feeling of profound contentment spreading over them, gentle smiles appearing on their faces. Had he the ability, Hayden would have arched an eyebrow. Then suddenly, he heard the sergeant shift behind him. Turning, Hayden just barely caught sight of the hardened veteran wiping something from his eyes, as a strangely peaceful expression passed across his features.

"Are you. . . crying, Sergeant Cooper?" Shaking his head as if waking from a dream, the sergeant's face once more became a stony frown.

"No sir." He declared, only the barest hint of hesitation in his voice, as he placed his helmet on his head, and checked his weapon. "Squad! Form up!" Cooper declared swiftly, as if trying to distract himself from his strange display. Immediately, the other four members of Hayden's security detail, took up positions behind their commanding officer. Before them all, the portal loomed, a pitch black disc, wreathed in blue. That despite its unsettling appearance, seemed oddly inviting to them. "We go in first." He declared through his helmet. "Once we secure the area, Doctor Hayden will come through. If we see any intelligent life, orders are to detain and question, or terminate if they prove hostile. Remember, the terrain is unknown, so no field trips. We do this quick and clean! Understood?!" 

"SIR!" Came the chorus of replies. Before, with a final glance at Hayden, the five men charged into the portal. . . 

Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and Applejack, stared at the oddly somber pony and human across the table from them. Normally, their little Tuesday friendship council get-togethers, were filled with nothing but smiles and laughter, over the finest breakfasts in Derran's considerable repertoire. This time however, while the onion and tomato quiche with basil, homemade cinnamon rolls, and scones with raspberry jam, were certainly up to Derran's usual five star standard, the conversation had been. . . lacking.

Twilight and Derran had barely said anything beyond 'hello'. And though Derran's mystical inexhaustibility made him seem daisy fresh, Twilight, in addition to slight circles under her eyes, looked more than a little frazzled. Her mane and tail appearing slightly wild, and her coat in need of a bit of brushing. Both had also barely eaten anything, largely just playing with their food, and appearing lost in some ephemeral world within their heads. Not to mention that while Derran still looked nothing short of immaculate, his manner of dress was strangely casual for him. A simple unadorned green t-shirt, with black jeans and sneakers, he wasn't even wearing a belt. Though to most he might look fine, this was as close as his friends had ever seen him to looking slovenly.  

At first, the girls had tried to cover for the pair's strange behavior, by discussing the events of the previous week amongst themselves. Each trying to ease their friends into the conversation by asking for an opinion or comment from them. Unfortunately, Twilight and Derran only surfaced from their respective inner worlds, just long enough to offer a generic non-committal response. At least, on the rare occasion they didn't need to ask for a complete recap of the entire conversation, before once again becoming lost in their own thoughts. Rather predictably, it was Rainbow Dash who first lost patience with the situation.

"Ok seriously you two, are we having breakfast together with you guys? Or just providing background noise?" She sniped, her voice tinged with a fair degree of irritation. Apparently her tone was severe enough to penetrate Derran and Twilight's gloomy brooding, as both of their heads suddenly snapped up from staring at their plates, with expressions of faint bewilderment. Derran, who was unquestionably more awake than Twilight, was the first to recover.

"I. . . my apologies Lady Dash, I suppose we are rather bringing down the mood." He offered, his tone conciliatory. Twilight nodded.

"Sorry girls, I. . ." Here Twilight paused for a sizable yawn. "guess that dream I had last night messed with my sleep more than I thought." Derran arched an eyebrow. He knew lady Twilight had been disturbed by a bad dream last night, he hadn't realized she had remembered it. Most of the time she had no recollection of her dreams, or at least, that was what she told him on the one or two occasions he'd asked.

"A nightmare? Oh darling that's dreadful!" Rarity offered sympathetically. "Though I'm surprised that Princess Luna didn't catch it?" Twilight shook her head.

"It was over pretty quick, she probably just didn't have time." She replied, debating on how much she wanted to say. Honestly, she really wanted to discuss her reoccurring dream with Luna and Celestia before bringing it up with her friends. Not that they didn't offer amazing support, it was simply that Twilight couldn't help but feel the dreams had a mystical element to them. Thus, she wanted a professional opinion before she worried anypony else about it. However, after a bit of hemming and hawing, she decided on a middle ground. "It also. . . didn't really start out as a nightmare. Derran was in it and-."

"Oooooh, one of those dreams." Rainbow interjected, with a wide, devious grin. Twilight instantly felt herself blush a spectacular shade of crimson. 

"N-no it wasn't like that!" She swiftly denied. Rainbow however, just smiled wider.

"Relax Twilight, we're all friends here. No need to hide it. Who knows? If you tell us, Derran might be willing to make it come true. . ." Twilight instantly felt her thoughts derail. Truth be told, she'd be lying if she said she hadn't had a dream or two like that, and Rainbow's comment made them all come roaring to the forefront of her mind. The curse of being a virgin sleeping with the object of your desire, and being an, ever so slightly, sexually repressed nerd with an avid imagination. Worse yet, Twilight and Derran's non-consummated sleeping arrangements, were one of Rainbow's favorite things to tease her about. "Would it help if we all went first?" Rainbow asked salaciously. Before diving in without waiting for an answer. "Ok, so in this one dream I had, me and this really hot stallion from Wonderbolt tryouts last year, were in the showers and-." It was at this point that Applejack, unceremoniously shoved a scone into her friend's mouth.

"I reckon Twilight wouldn't be so tired if the dream were happy Rainbow. 'Sides, I've heard that dream of yours once before, an' ah know it ain't the kinda thing you discuss at breakfast." Chewing swiftly and then swallowing, Rainbow gave Applejack a mock glare.

"Killjoy." She declared with a slight smirk. It was then that Fluttershy spoke up, more than a little eager to steer the conversation back into less mortifying territory.

"So. . . what was your dream about Twilight?" She asked softly. 

"Well, I've been having it for-." Twilight was interrupted by a frantic pounding on the door of the council chamber, along with the cries of a familiar voice.

"Princess! Derran! It's Derpy! Please tell me you're there?!!" Derran, startled into action, was already halfway to the door as Derpy finished. Throwing open the portal, the gray mailmare collapsed into the room. Panting and sweaty, her slightly misaligned gaze fell on Derran, and a look of relief swept over her. 

"Derpy, what's wrong?! Are you okay?!" Twilight asked in concern, as Derran and Applejack helped their unexpected guest to her hooves. Derpy shook her head vigorously as Rarity levitated a glass of water over to her. Grabbing it, Derpy gulped it down greedily, as she struggled to catch her breath.

"It's. . . that guy. . . the bad one!" Derpy gasped out, clearly frantic. "Saw him. . . when I was. . . making my delivery rounds. . . told everypony to hide. . . came here to. . . get you!" Derran instantly experienced a feeling like a snake writhing in his gut at Derpy's words. Kneeling down, he stared into her eyes.

"Deep breaths, Lady Hooves." He stated, forcing himself to be calm. "Be specific, what did he look like? Can you recall his name?" Derpy nodded, forcing her breathing to get under control.

"The one who you told me about!" She declared, clearly still on the edge of panic. "The one who you said made himself into a robot!" Instantly, Derran felt his blood run cold. Even as his mind and soul, ignited with pure rage. The list of foes Derran had that were still alive was short. The list of foes he had that were still alive and that he had spoken to Derpy about, was shorter still. But the list of foes Derran had, that had once been, but were no longer, flesh and blood, had but a single name. A name that to Derran, held a hatred as great as he possessed for any demon.

"My Ladies, please stay with Lady Hooves, and have her tell you everything she can about our intruder." He stated, rising to his feet.

"Ok, but where are you going?" Twilight asked. Derran's face was like the bronze mask of a statue, his eyes flickering red, as he replied in a voice as hard as blood soaked iron.

"To arm myself."

Samuel Hayden, had seen and done a great many unusual, wondrous, and, to the ignorant in his opinion, terrible things. He had traversed Hell. A place most considered, incorrectly, as the final destination for the souls of the wicked. He had personally come face to face with demons, and subsequently dissected them. He had refined the chaotic and destructive power of the Hell dimension into a usable source of clean energy. Built the world's first artificial intelligence. And even cheated the cold jaws of death with his genius. 

It took a great deal to surprise Samuel Hayden. He had not been surprised at the marked difference in the air purity of this new world, containing not even a trace of pollution. He had not batted a metaphorical eyelash, at readings that the soil beneath his feet was not only incredibly fertile, but rich beyond calculation in precious gems, minerals, and metals, including gold, silver, platinum, and palladium. He did not comment at the strange, but immeasurably powerful and abundant, unidentified energy that suffused nearly everything here, from animals and plants, to the soil and air themselves. He had not felt any great shock, at passing several species of lifeforms that, until now, had been described only in the myths and fables of earth. He had not even been surprised when he noticed a distinct, human level of intelligence in the eyes of otherwise ordinary animals. Yet, at the site of the first fully sentient inhabitants of this strange new world, Hayden found himself momentarily at a loss.

He had considered everything from traditional angels, to the possibility of an unimaginably technologically advanced race of bio-engineered superbeings. He had planned for floating islands in a spacetime void, squid people holding court in an undersea kingdom, or even lifeforms made entirely of energy. But never once in his calculations, had he ever considered a race of talking, brightly colored, ever-so-slightly-anthropomorphic, equines. Some even possessing the features of the mythical pegusus and unicorns from the fanciful writings of earth. The latter of whom, appeared to be using the strange energy Hayden had detected earlier, in tangible form for various day-to-day tasks. In fact, based on what Hayden could detect, which admittedly wasn't much, as the energy scrambled his sensors slightly, all three types of these. . . ponies, seemed to radiate the energy, the way a generator radiated an electromagnetic field.

"Sir, permission to speak freely?" Asked one of Collins men via their unit comm, 'Bernard Stemas' if his voice print was accurate.

"Granted." Collins replied.

"What in the hell are we looking at?" Bernard asked, his voice showing no fear, and only the barest hint of confusion.

"The usual." Collins replied, with the cold efficiency Hayden had selected him for. "They're either non-coms, or the enemy."

"How do we know which?" Asked another voice, that Hayden identified as a man named Edward Simpson. Hayden heard a dark chuckle from another member of Collins team, one, William Stroud.

"Simple, you shoot a few and see who runs." At that point Hayden decided to chime in.

"Sargent, make certain your men fire only on my order. Whatever these creatures may appear to be, we have no idea what they're capable of." Collins responded with a swift 'yes sir', before switching back to what he thought was a private channel.

"You heard the Doctor, the first man who so much as thinks about opening fire without a direct order, I will personally execute for treason! And if you think I'm joking, then allow me to remind you that we are not on earth anymore. So as far as the law is concerned, I am your own personal judge, jury, and executioner. Do I make myself clear?!" 

"Sir!"  Came a quartet of replies. As Collins tuned back into Hayden's channel.

"Sir, are you going to let them know you're here?" From Collins position over two thousand feet distant, and camouflaged amid the branches of an enormous maple tree at the edge of a forest. A forest that, frankly, gave even a cold hearted bastard like him the willies. He noted that Hayden was a good mile from the edge of the town, and the massive, crystal tree-like castle, Collins was forcing himself not to acknowledge for the sake of his straining sense of reality.      

"No need." Hayden replied, artificially injecting levity into his tone. "They already know. One of the flying ones saw me a moment ago. She spoke briefly to the others before heading off toward that strange castle. I believe our target must have told these creatures who I am, or at least, who he claims I am." Collins didn't reply immediately, as he examined the town through his binoculars.

"Sir, it looks like the. . . civilians, are starting to take cover. Orders?" Hayden pretended to take a moment to consider things.

"Can you still target them in those buildings?" Hayden already knew the answer, but it was the kind of thing Collins would expect Hayden to ask. 

"Yes sir. Most of those structures appear to just be brick and stucco. A rail cannon shot will tear through them like paper. And with our exo-scopes, they'll have nowhere to hide." Hayden was relieved to hear the sergeant's reply was calm and professional, rather than eager or vengeful. The last thing he needed to do was anger the Doom Slayer by killing one of his pets. 

As much as it galled Hayden to admit, his negotiating position was tenuous at best. He had initially hoped he might be able to persuade the seraphim, assuming they were even present, to give up the Crucible voluntarily. A shaky plan to say the least. However, a new plan was swiftly taking form in Hayden's mind. One with a far higher chance of success. But, it all hinged on two critical pieces of information. First, did this strange equine species have a method of extradimensional travel? And second, how much did the Doom Slayer, a man whose entire existence was defined by death and fighting, care about these creature's wellbeing? If the answers to these questions were what he hoped, then Hayden might yet attain a bloodless, if rather coldhearted, victory. But in all honesty, who cared if the victory wasn't entirely clean? After all, the purpose of all this was to save the human species. In the face of so lofty a goal, who cared if it necessitated a little ruthlessness? More to the point, considering no one but him and the ARC council would likely ever know the details, who was even going to know? 

"Sir, we have the target. He just exited the base of the castle accompanied by six of those creatures. He's armed, obvious weapons are a sidearm and a sword. He doesn't appear to be wearing any armor. Permission to take the shot?" Hayden swiftly replied, grateful once again that he could hide his true emotions behind artificial ones.

"Negative sergeant. I doubt he has the Crucible on him, and he cannot tell us its location if he's dead." Hayden's tone was perfectly calm, but within he encountered a momentary pang of concern. Even in the incredibly unlikely event the Doom Slayer had the Crucible on his person, if the sergeant or one of his men provoked the Slayer that directly, none of them would likely see earth again. Not only was an attempt at killing him massively unlikely to be successful, but if Hayden's growing suspicions about the Slayer's relationship with these equines proved true, then they would likely be picking a fight that not even the armies of Hell itself had been able to win. This situation needed to be handled with the utmost delicacy. . .

          
Pure, brutal, primal rage, filled every cell that made up Derran's corporeal being. Derran wanted nothing more than to run up to Hayden, and rip him into pieces so tiny he could be placed in a matchbox, then hurl said matchbox into an erupting volcano. However, as terrible as his fury was, Derran held it back with an iron will, and the tactical knowledge that Hayden would not dare be so brazen without some form of insurance. And Derran had a fairly good inkling what that insurance was. 

On Mars, Derran had held all the cards. There was nothing and nocreature he loved or cared about on that detestable rock. Hayden had nothing to hold over him, nothing to threaten him with or offer him. Derran hadn't needed Hayden's instructions, nor his dubious advice. He hadn't needed Hayden to tell him where to go or how to get there. He hadn't even really needed Hayden to tell him how to get to Hell, or what to do when he arrived. He actually had already been hunting the Crucible, though at the time he hadn't known its name, when the thrice damned hell priests had collapsed their temple on him and cursed him to, what they no doubt hoped was, eternal stasis. All Hayden had done was speed up the inevitable. Now however. . .

Derran looked surreptitiously to his left and right, feeling a flare of worry for the loved ones whom trotted at his side with grim and determined faces, safety. Wondering for the millionth time in the last few minutes, if this was a sound strategy. True, meeting Hayden with so many of his family close to hand, allowed him to arrive projecting strength. Showing he did not fear whatever violence Hayden might bring to bare. But it also put them at the most risk. He had of course taken what precautions he could, but none were as good as simply telling Twilight to teleport herself and the others as far away as possible. Granted, it was somewhat moot regardless. Twilight would never abandon the rest of Ponyville to save her own coat, and even if that weren't the case, she would never leave behind Spike or Starlight, both of whom were still in town.

At the end of everything, Hayden had caught Derran unprepared, and ill equipped. He couldn't even use his armor, as it was currently in Doctor Whooves's lab, in a state of partial disassembly. This was doubly crippling, as it placed nearly all of Derran's weapons out of reach. With a flare of self remonstrance, he cursed himself that he had only deigned to keep Unmaker and his pistol in easy reach. Though, to be fair, more guns would hardly help. No matter how you looked at the situation, one terrible truth was omnipresent. No matter how armed or armored he was, Derran now had creatures he cared about, beings he loved. He now had something to lose, he, the mighty Doom Slayer, was now vulnerable.  

Derran took a breath to clear his mind. He may not be able to shoot his way out of this, but he wasn't defenseless either. Before he had trained as a soldier, Derran was being groomed to replace the most cunning and charismatic politician his country had ever known. Digging deep into his memory, he recalled all his long dead father had taught him. Every lesson on intrigue, subtlety, and courtly guile. Instantly, his father's voice echoed in his mind.

"Use your opponent's preconceptions against them my boy! Men, particularly those not used to being contradicted or corrected, tend to make judgements without truly having all the facts. They see a fruit who's shape is not what they expect, and declare it rotten! Never thinking to cut it open and confirm it."

Hayden, when last he and Derran had met, admitted to thinking him a mere brute. An unthinking being of rage and violence. Derran gave a momentary dark smirk, he could use that. Additionally, Hayden had no idea how anything in Equestria actually worked. However much Hayden might have guessed, he was still only guessing. Not to mention, Derran knew exactly what Hayden had come here for. Thus, Derran was the only one of them who knew the true nature of the fruit they were looking upon, all he had to do, was ensure Hayden didn't cut it open. As he strode through Ponyville, Derran began formulating his plan, and silently thanking the infinite wisdom of his beloved Celestia, for the opportunity she had given him to resharpen his political skills in Canterlot. He would need to keep his anger on a tight leash, but if it was to protect his home, no task was too great. Abruptly however, he was broken from his thoughts as two familiar figures galloped up to him.

"Hey Derran, what's going on? Why is everypony hiding in their homes?" Before Derran, Twilight, and the Friendship Council, was a worried looking Starlight Glimmer, just returned from breakfast with her friends Trixie and Maud at the edge of town. And Spike, whom had left early that morning to assist the Cutie Mark Crusaders at Sweet Apple Acres. Both appearing to recognize his grim expression for what it was. Derran wasted no time, explaining in as succinct a manner as possible.

"Hayden has somehow manage to reach Equestria. Lady Starlight, I ask that you project the strongest shield you are able, over as much of the town as you are capable. If it is possible, make the shield invisible to the naked eye. Master Spike, I ask you return to Sweet Apple Acres. Find the CMC, Venerable Smith, and Lord Macintosh. They have a cellar under the main house, I want you all to conceal yourselves there until somecreature comes for you. Hurry now!" The pair nodded as they headed off to their tasks without comment or complaint. As Derran continued walking, he spoke to Twilight and the others.

"Lady Twilight, have you a spell that can hide your, and our friends, expressions?" Twilight thought for a moment before nodding. 

"Yeah. . . I think I have something that will do the trick." She replied, a vague idea already appearing in her mind of what Derran intended. 

"Excellent." Derran declared, his voice a whisper, as he schooled his expression into one of acute irritation. Wanting any unseen observers to not guess his instructions based on the orientation of his facial features. "Do so at once. Then, if you have an invisible shield you can throw over us, I would ask that you do so." Again, Twilight nodded, as she lit her horn and everycreature's faces briefly glowed.

"Done, I used a spell that should give us all whatever expressions you want us to have. I got the feeling that would be the most helpful. Anything else?" Derran nodded almost imperceptibly as they reached the edge of Ponyville. 

"Stay true to yourselves, but be as silent as you can, have faith in my words, and know that my plan relies upon them."

"What's that mean?" Rainbow asked, slightly puzzled. Derran gave a brief smirk.

"Recall 'Daring Do and the Ivory Torc' Lady Dash, and remember the virtue of subtlety. You will know what I mean when the time comes." He declared, as they passed the last few houses, and he deliberately shaped his expression into one of absolute fury. Granted, considering that was his current actual mood, it wasn't exactly difficult. Continuing on in silence, Derran pleaded to the Light that he had the oratory and thespian skill, to pull this off. And the power to protect his home, if he did not.

When Derran at last caught site of Hayden, he felt as if his blood had caught fire. Every instinct he had, screaming at him to run forward and cleave Hayden's head from his shoulders, then hammer what remained into dust and shattered circuits with his bare fists. Holding himself back from acting on this impulse, while simultaneously using it to bolster his verbal performance, was an effort great enough to cause Derran a small degree of actual pain. Nevertheless, he held on, the thought of his family and friends wellbeing granting him control. Still, Hayden had come looking for a beast, and Derran vowed, he would not have to look far. . .

"HAYDEN!! HOW DARE YOU SHOW YOUR FACE HERE YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!" Derran's bellow was that of an enraged brawler, on sighting a challenger he particularly despised. Any trace of his aristocratic side thoroughly erased. As he stomped closer to Hayden, cracking his knuckles, Derran heard a familiar voice echo in his mind. A strange sensation of faint mental displacement close behind.

+You keep an eye on what to say, but I'll do the talking. I speak evil bastard in every language under the sun. . .+ The Doom Slayer internally hissed. Derran, though unsettled by his slight loss of control, had to concede that the Slayer would doubtlessly sell this better than he would. 

As Derran closed to within twenty feet of Hayden, what appeared to be a beam of brilliant blue-white light, shot from the tree line a mile and a half distant, to blast a sizable crater several feet in front of him, in an eruption of earth. Derran's face screwed up into a perfectly feigned expression of stunned surprise, as he looked down at the smoldering hole in the ground. Before displaying a far more sincere look of psychotic, but impotent, fury.

"FUCKING COWARD!! FIGHT ME LIKE A REAL MAN YOU LIGHT-DAMNED RUSTED HEAP OF JUNKYARD SCRAP!!" Hayden seemed almost amused by Derran's rage. 

"As tempting an offer as that is, I'll have to decline." Here Hayden glanced at Derran's companions, and once again Derran had to restrain himself, as the hand near his holstered pistol visibly twitched. "So. . . this is why you fight." Hayden drawled. It was not a question. Derran's tone became a low growl.

"You touch one hair in their manes, and I'll shove your head so far up your robo-ass that-." Hayden halted Derran's tirade with an upraised hand, his tone bored.

"Yes yes, I'm sure whatever anatomically improbable threat you were about to make would be absolutely terrifying, but I'm afraid I don't have the time. You must know why I'm here?" Derran's expression became a savage smile in spite of Hayden's flippant response.

"If you mean that trinket I ripped outta' your hand after I tore your arm off last time we met? I smashed the fucking thing!" Hayden tilted his head slightly.

"Oh did you?" He asked, clearly not believing it. "You 'smashed' one of the most potent artifacts Hell ever created? An artifact that, if the energy it contained were to be released explosively, would likely total out to the power of several supernovas?" Derran pretended to look uncertain, it was only for a split second, but Hayden spotted it. "There is no need to lie Slayer. Besides, I haven't come looking for a fight." Derran spat to his side as he glared at Hayden.

"Bullshit!" He snarled. Hayden just sighed, or rather, he pretended to. A fact that Derran found very interesting. Why simulate an emotional response like that? Was it automatic? Or. . . was it calculated? Hayden spoke in a conciliatory tone.

"I assure you, I am not lying. I have no interest in harming you or your. . . pets." At that, Rainbow Dash spoke up, in a tone of indignant rage.

"We're not Derran's pet's pal! We're his friends! And Derran told us all about you! You're the jerk who's entire planet would'a been a demon playground, if Derran hadn't saved it!" She snarled, hovering at Derran's shoulder as she glared at Hayden in disdainful anger. Hayden simply turned his head towards Rainbow.

"And did he tell you that he also destroyed the single source of energy that billions on my planet rely on to live?" Hayden asked coldly. Rainbow, felt her blood boil, as she prepared to launch into an angry tirade about how Hayden was lying through his nonexistent teeth, and that his world would be better off living without power than getting eaten by demons. But she suddenly stopped, as she remembered what she was sure was the scene in 'Daring Do and the Ivory Torc', that Derran wanted her to recall.

In the scene, Daring Do pretended she believed Doctor Caballeron when he tried to convince her that Ahuizotl had forced him to do bad things against his will for as long as she had known him. Then, by playing along with his lie, and acting sympathetic, she tricked him into giving her all the information she needed to foil both their plans and retrieve the treasure she was after. Rainbow had a feeling that Derran wanted her to pretend she might be willing to listen to Hayden. Rainbow's first instinct was to go all out, and accuse Derran of lying to her, but something held her back. The virtue of subtlety. . . Derran didn't want her to make a scene, just to act as if she might have doubts.

"No. . ." Rainbow replied slowly. "But if he did then he. . . I'm sure he had a good reason!" She protested, straining her acting skills to the limit. As she allowed herself to float down to the ground, her bluster and anger seemingly gone. Silently, she thanked Pinkie Pie for forcing her to attend those improvisational theater workshops with her that one winter.

"I'm sure he believes he did." Hayden replied, his voice altering to sound sympathetic. "But I'm sure you can see how his information might be a bit. . . biased?" Rainbow, just gave a snort of annoyance, as she forced herself to look chastened. In her head, she hoped she'd done enough to help whatever plan Derran was hatching. . .

Hayden took a moment to reassess the situation. Clearly the Doom Slayer, or 'Derran' as his real name apparently was, hadn't told his odd companions quite all the details of his adventures on Mars. Whether out of some desire to protect them, or because he simply hadn't cared to, was irrelevant. The fact was, Hayden had an opening to drive a wedge between the Slayer and his supposed friends. 

"You know. . . I suspect Doom Slayer, that you are not actually in charge here." If he'd been able, Hayden would have smiled at the way the Doom Slayer stiffened, almost imperceptibly, at that statement. Deciding to fish for a little information, he chose his next words with deliberate care. "Tell me. . . are the seraphim available?" The Doom Slayer instantly bared his teeth, giving Hayden a look not unlike a vicious dog straining at its leash. As the most unique equine of the bunch, suddenly stepped forward. 

She. . . as from their slighter figures and longer manes, Hayden was sure almost all the strange creatures with the Slayer were female, the one uncertainty being the rainbow haired one, whom Hayden only confirmed after she spoke, had a coat the color of lavender. While her tail and hair, or mane Hayden supposed, were a deep eggplant purple with indigo and magenta highlights. On her flank, Hayden saw a large white and magenta star, surrounded by five smaller white stars. Her eyes were a brilliant violet, and her face as a whole, was ever-so-vaguely human in appearance. However, what was most noticeable about her, was that she had not only a spiral horn jutting proudly from her forehead, but also a set of small wings. Her horn glowed with a soft light, that Hayden's sensors could not identify, save for its incredibly high energy value. When the creature spoke, Hayden had an odd sensation of not quite being able to read her expression, but it passed, as he realized she was glaring at him.

"I'm Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship. Normally I'd be happy to hear out any visitor to Equestria, but in this case, and as far as you're concerned Doctor Hayden, Derran here speaks for me and all the other leaders involved." She declared sternly. Hayden instantly felt a degree of what, in a human, would have been irritation. It seemed he had been incorrect, whatever doubt he might have inspired in the rainbow one. This. . . Twilight, clearly had no qualms handing over negotiations to the brutish Slayer. 

Still, this had given Hayden no small amount of useful information. First, while her title sounded largely ceremonial, and ridiculous in Hayden's opinion, she was clearly only one leader of a group. In addition, her words opened up the possibility that there were other nations besides this, Equestria. What's more, her appearance suggested some form of tribal class system, where rulership was given only to those with particular physical characteristics. Given time, Hayden likely could have fomented a revolution, or turned the neighboring lands against this one to strengthen his bargaining position. Unfortunately, time was the one thing Hayden didn't have. The vast, but sharply limited, supply of argent energy on earth, forcing Hayden to favor speed.

"Are you certain your highness? I don't mean to be blunt, but if I can't produce what I need from this expedition, the situation could become. . . diplomatically untenable. Perhaps you should consult these other rulers you speak of first?" Twilight stared at Hayden with a look of grim defiance.

"I am sure. I trust Derran with all my heart, I know he will do what's right." Hayden triggered a sound like an exhausted sigh, as he turned to look at the Doom Slayer. 

"Very well then, I will be direct. I want the artifact you stole from my lab on Mars. Human civilization on my world cannot function without argent energy, our primary power source, and the artifact, the Crucible, is now the only thing in existence that can allow us to harness it once more. Right now, the survival of my species is on the line, so I will do whatever I must to secure what I need." Here Hayden paused to gesture to the forest and hills behind him. "I currently have several highly trained snipers aiming their weapons at the citizens of this town. I trust I don't need to explain to you what that means?" For the first time, Hayden saw, however briefly, an expression of panic flicker across the Slayer's features. However, an instant later, it was again eclipsed by rage.

"You know I could rip you apart before they so much as pull the trigger you cock sucking piece of shit! The Crucible means fuck-all if you're dead!" The Slayer barked. Hayden was unperturbed.

"Yes. . ." he conceded calmly. "I have no doubt you could end my life if you tried. I also don't doubt you could kill all the men I brought with me, regardless of their weapons, armor, and training. I would even go so far to say, that if you ever got back to earth, you could, eventually, kill every man woman and child on it. However, I am also one hundred percent certain. . . that you won't. Because though you could do all that, you couldn't do it, and save your friends in that village at the same time." Hayden was glad he didn't have a biological body right now, as what emotions he still possessed felt stretched to the limit. This was the moment of truth. If the Slayer attacked. . . if Hayden had underestimated how much the Doom Slayer seemed to care for these creatures. . . then he was dead. Him. . . and every human back on earth. Hayden could feel the Slayer's rage, feel how much he wanted to kill him, even despite having circuits instead of nerves. If he had still been a normal man, he had no doubt he'd be a sweating, terror stricken mess by now. As it was, he stayed implacable, unafraid, a mountain of logic and certainty. 

Yet, for just a moment, one, traitorous moment, Hayden felt a whisper of true terror, as he gazed into the Doom Slayer's blazing red eyes. . . In those scarlet pools, for a single moment that seemed to last for an eternity, Hayden saw a darkness so deep and terrible, that even the loss of his human form could not protect him from its horror. It was not 'Hate' as humanity understood it. In those eyes was an emotion older than hate. It was a poisonous, brutal wrath, that had festered since before time and space had even existed. Gods and monsters fled in terror from it, and strong men buried themselves beneath their covers, praying to impotent and equally terrified deities, that it would never fall upon them. In those eyes, Hayden saw stars die, solar systems disintegrate, and galaxies fade from reality. In that one instant, Hayden saw the face of a being that could destroy the universe. And then. . . it was gone. Replaced by a split second expression of bitterness, spite, and. . . resignation.

"I. . . can't give you the crucible." The nearly unnoticeable note of defeat in that statement, was palpable to Hayden. As the Doom Slayer's face, became a stony mask. Hayden, though he would never show or admit it, felt a pang of relief, buoyed up by a vicious feeling of proud dominance. The Slayer had blinked. . . this was Hayden's show now. Still, there was one last loose end he wanted to tie up. He spoke quickly, before the Slayer could clarify his statement.

"The Legion won't save you. If that is what you are pinning your hopes on." The Slayer's expression became one of unmoving stone. 

"Are you sure about that?" He asked coldly. "It's a pretty dependable piece of hardware." Hayden analyzed every aspect of the Slayer's response, as well as those of the creatures either side of him. Micro expressions, lip movements, muscle twitches, and vocal tone down to the sub and super harmonic level. The result was unanimous. . . whatever kind of weapon the Legion was, or had been, neither the Slayer, nor the ponies, thought it would help. Hayden would have given a triumphant smile if he could have. Still, he played up the diplomatic angle, just to be safe.

"I don't like this any more than you do, Doom Slayer. You saved my world, I'm grateful for that, truly I am. But I'm not going to let you damn it all over again, just to appease your dogmatic need for revenge. Give me what I want, and I promise you, neither I, nor anyone from my universe, will ever set foot here again." The Slayer just shook his head.

"Even if I was enough of a dumbass to believe you. And even if I was crazy enough to think that you stealing power from Hell would go any different the second time around. That's not the problem. I can't give you the Crucible, because I don't know where it is, and even if I did, I can't get to it." Hayden, again, used every sensor at his disposal to ascertain the truth. To his shock, he found the Slayer wasn't lying.

"Then who does know?" Hayden demanded. The Slayer glanced at Twilight for the briefest of instants, just long enough to receive a single nod.

"No one country has the full location. The seraphim, and the leaders of the lands around Equestria, hid the Crucible behind a lock only the Seraphim can open, made a map of its location, broke the map into parts, and then used magic to destroy their memories of the location. The only way to find and open it again, is to get all the kingdoms involved to agree to hand over their pieces of the map." Hayden again, tried to find even the faintest trace of a lie in the Slayer's relentlessly grim expression, but it again was negative. Around him, the colorful equine aliens wore varying expressions, from sadness and fear, to anger, but all indicated that none of them thought the Slayer was lying either.

"How long will that take?" Hayden asked, annoyed, but glad they were finally making progress. Though the scientist in him instinctively recoiled at the idea of 'magic'. Which he assumed was what they thought the strange energy he was detecting was. 

"About three to four months, minimum. Hiding it took even longer." At that point, Twilight chimed in, her voice studiously neutral.

"Even with the aid of magic and airship travel, just sending out all the necessary envoys will take weeks. There's a reason it's rare for all the nations to gather." That, Hayden balked at, though he did note that Twilight's comment about travel times likely precluded any possibility of extradimensional portals. While in theory he could use another month to finish fully readying the ARC forces, every second of delay, cost argent that could not be replenished. Not to mention that, regardless of what his sensors were telling him, Hayden was sure something about this was off. 

"I will give you two weeks." He declared. The reaction was instantaneous, as the Doom Slayer growled.

"Did you even fucking listen you pompous tin can?! It can't be done in two weeks! Maybe two months if we get lucky but not-." Hayden cut off the Slayer's rant with a tone of cold anger of his own. Manufactured of course, but who was to know?

"One month." He stated. "Accept it, or I bring my soldiers tomorrow, and you can take as long as you want with my men occupying every town and city they find. The whole of earth and its armies are united against you Slayer, so do not think for a moment that I'm bluffing. I do not like resorting to threats, but I'm not making my people wait just because you don't want to break tradition!" The Slayer shot Hayden a glare with all the volatility of a nuclear blast. When he spoke, his tone was one of a rage, only tenuously held in check.

"Fuck you rust dick! But fine, we'll make sure it all gets done in a month." Here the Slayer fixed Hayden with another look of pure hate. "But if you or any of your spies set foot here before our month is up, or if you ever come here again after you get the Crucible, then I swear to all that is holy, I will find a way to turn your whole Light forsaken planet into a fucking tomb!" Hayden dearly wished he could smile. Perhaps one day he'd rig up a hologram to allow him the ability to have an expression when he wished. After watching helplessly on Mars as the Slayer destroyed his life's work, there would have been a certain satisfaction in a little nonverbal gloating.  

"Agreed. You see how much easier it is if we all just talk things out?" If looks could kill, the one the Slayer shot Hayden would likely have melted him into monatomic ash, and then evaporated whatever remained of his soul.

"Just get the fuck out of here you psychopath!" The Slayer snarled. "You got what you wanted! May you fucking choke on it!" Hayden nodded as he turned to go. However, he had not gone ten steps, before the Doom Slayer spoke again.

"Hayden!" Turning around, Hayden was once more met with an expression like Stone from the Slayer.

"Yes? I was under the impression you wanted me gone as soon as possible. I don't suppose that's changed in the last five seconds?" Oddly, the Slayer ignored him, fixing Hayden with a look he couldn't quite place.

"You once told me that you weren't the villain in this story. . . But you just threatened to murder a town full of innocent stallions, mares, and foals to get what you wanted. Then you did it again, when their leaders didn't move fast enough for you. Tell me something. . . what would you call someone like that?"" The Slayer's tone was calm, unaccusing, but carried a weight that was almost oppressive. For a moment, Hayden's brain went into overdrive, trying to square the question with the man asking it. But in the end, Hayden cut the analyses short. It wasn't important anymore, and he already had the right answer, or at least, the answer his logical mind told him was right.

"I told you: I do what I do, because there is no choice." He stated, the conviction in his voice unshakable. As the words hung in the air, the Slayer gave a slow, deliberate nod. His gaze becoming like steel, before giving a response, that had Hayden still been human, would have chilled him to his core, despite it's cryptic nature.                

                           
"Then. . . on your head it be."

"If you don't mind me asking DG, what was all that stuff you told Mr. Robomeanie about?" Pinkie Pie asked, for once nearly as confused as everypony else, as they sat around the friendship map in Twilight's castle. Derran stood with his back to them, staring out a window at the Everfree forest as he replied.

"I know Hayden. . . I know what kind of creature he is." Here Derran turned, revealing an expression as foreboding as grey skies above a tempestuous sea. "I also know what kind of man he thinks he is. The instant I heard he was here, I had an idea of his plan. Though I hoped I was wrong." Further explanation was temporarily delayed, as Starlight and Spike came through the door.

"We did what you asked Derran." Spike stated, his tone serious. "Starlight scryed on that Hayden guy until he left." Starlight nodded.

"He met up with five other humans carrying weapons that looked a lot like some of yours." Starlight explained. "Then, about five minutes ago, they hopped into a portal about twenty miles or so away. Sorry, but after that the spell couldn't find him." Derran nodded.

"That was expected. Thank you Lady Starlight, and you, Master Spike. Now, before I continue my explanation, how are the citizens holding up?" 

"There doing fine, some are a little shaken, but nothing a cup of tea wouldn't fix." Twilight replied, trying to keep her tone light. Derran gave a wan smile.

"Well, that is something at least." He declared softly. 

"So you gonna tell us what that hornswoggle about a map and the Crucible, an' needin' the permission of the leaders of other countries was?" Applejack asked, her eyebrow arched and her tone just a hair accusational. "If'n I'm gonna be part of a lie, ah'd at least like to know what it was for." Derran gave a slow nod.

"Very well." He replied, his tone even. "At some point or another, I believe I told everycreature in this room about Hayden, and what transpired on the planet Mars." Derran waited as every head in the room gave a nod of confirmation. "While I freely admit I did not know Hayden long, nor speak with him at any great length, I was able to divine much of his character from data I uncovered in the Mars facility, and from the projects therein." Derran took a deep and steadying breath. "In case he didn't make it blindingly obvious from his little display down there, Hayden is completely insane. He is obsessed with resurrecting the production of his precious argent energy, and genuinely believes the humans on his home planet will die without it." At that moment, Fluttershy spoke up in a worried tone.

"Is. . . that true?" Derran shook his head.

"Even if it was, having his planet absorbed by Hell would end his world no less swiftly." Here, Derran clenched his fists, and his eyes took on a momentary look of wrathful mania. "Demons are the foes of all mortal life! Trafficking with them marks one as utterly unredeemable, a villain to the core! Hayden, and all who follow him, damned themselves the instant they chose power over their own immortal souls!" He snarled, his voice filled with rage. However, at Fluttershy's suddenly frightened expression, Derran calmed, clearing his throat, his face becoming once more grim.
"Forgive me, Lady Fluttershy, it seems my emotions are still raw on the subject. Returning to Lady Applejack's question. The goal of my deception was to buy us time. Diplomacy will avail us nothing, Hayden is too far gone for that, and who knows what poisonous lies or honeyed promises he fed to his people to gain their support. That leaves us with but a single option. . . war." At that, there was a sharp intake of breath from Derran's audience. 

"Is. . . is there really nothing else we can do?" Twilight asked. "I know the odds are slim but, what if we appealed to the leaders and people of earth directly?" Derran shook his head.

"With respect my Lady, even assuming we could reach them, to what end? Hayden has spent years ensuring that everything on his homeworld was dependent on argent energy. Their food, their water, their cities, governments, entertainment, communications and infrastructure. All rely on the power of argent. While I have no doubt they could survive without it, their society in its current form would collapse. It might take them decades, or even centuries, to recover. Not to mention they have no reason whatsoever to trust our word." Here Starlight spoke up.

"What if we could replace argent energy with something else? An alternative power source?" Derran shook his head.

"Have you one that they can produce on their own? Without use of magic? One based purely on technology?" Starlight hesitated.

"Well. . . no. But if they can open portals, we could offer to just replace whatever we gave them if it broke or wore out." Again, Derran shook his head.

"Approach them with that offer, and they will assume you are trying to enslave them. And before you say it, yes, that is what Hayden has already done, but they trust him. From the small amount of biographical data I gathered on Mars, Hayden is effectively the second coming of Ahriman to the people of earth. If we had something we could give them that they themselves could produce, it might be different, but we do not." Starlight opened her mouth, no doubt wanting to argue, but found she couldn't dispute Derran's logic. Yet, even as Starlight and the others digested Derran's words, a look of realization appeared on his face, before swiftly transforming into one of supreme horror. As an obvious fact, suddenly clicked in Derran's mind.
"This. . . this is my fault." He declared, his voice a chokeing whisper. As one, the ponies and dragon present, stared at Derran in confusion.

"What are you talking about DG? You didn't bring that super uncool mister meanie-meanpants here." Pinkie declared with a laugh. "I mean, it's not like you had a chance to stop him but didn't take it because of some weird moment of hesitation brought on by you wanting Hayden to know that he wasn't as smart as he thought he was. I mean, that would just be silly!" Derran stared at the wall with a blank expression, only half aware of what Pinkie was saying, as his dream from the night before came roaring back. For a moment he stood paralyzed, as images of Ponyville in flames, and his family and friends all dead, flashed before his vision.

"DAMMIT!!" He roared, slamming his fist down onto the friendship map hard enough to shake the room. Trembling with a combination of fury and panic, Derran's voice once more became a whisper. "What have I done? What in the name of the holy Light on high have I done?!" Twilight instantly was at Derran's side.

"It wasn't your fault Derran." She stated softly, placing her hoof on his arm. Derran just shook his head, his face a mask of despair and fury.

"There was a moment, just before I was sent back here by the portal exploding. . . I had Hayden dead to rights. Had him helpless, crippled. . . and instead of taking the shot and ending it, I spoke to him instead." Here Derran straightened up, his face a mask of anger and self loathing. "I wanted him to know that there was more than mindless rage at work in my actions. Wanted him to know that he, was not, a god! I wanted him to die knowing, that this was about something greater than my anger or his ego!" Here Derran seemed to deflate, falling back into an unoccupied chair. "And now, all of Equestria must pay the price for my lapse in discipline." Twilight shook her head.

"You couldn't have known." She said gently. Derran simply leaned forward in his seat, as he put his face in his hands.

"I knew he was the one loose end left on that rock. . . The only one who could possibly give Hell a second chance. . . I knew that, and I hesitated. . ." Lowering his hands, Derran's expression became one of terrifying intensity. "Never again. . ." He growled, his voice containing a tone that set manes and scales on end. Getting to his feet, Derran suddenly seemed swathed in an aura of furious and dark determination. "I lost one home. . . I will not let Hayden take another!" He declared, the ponies and dragon around him staring in a mixture of fear and awe, as he rallied. "Hayden has brought war to our doorstep. And loathed as I am to admit it, he was correct about one thing. . . I cannot do this alone." 

Twilight stared at Derran, a whole new gravity now having been given to the situation. Derran had never once, in all the time she had known him, ever encountered a fight he couldn't win alone. For Celestia's sake, she'd personally witnessed him taking out an army of monsters, an Ursa Major, an empowered Queen Chrysalis, and a fully revived and demonically mutated Tirek, all in the space of an hour! The idea that this time he might be unable to protect them, suddenly drove home the reality of Hayden's threat, and how dangerous Derran felt he truly was. 

"B-but if you can't help us, what are we going to do?!" Asked Fluttershy, her voice a frightened squeak. "I don't think the power of the elements will be much use here!" Fires of fierce conviction lit within Derran's eyes, as he spoke in a voice akin to the shifting of ancient stone.

"I never said I could not help you Lady Fluttershy. . . I merely said I could not do so on my own." Twilight felt her eyes widen, her mind instantly whisked back to events a year prior. And the revelation of Equestria's final, and mightiest, weapon.

"The Legion. . ." She whispered, feeling her very soul tremble at the mere memory of seeing them. Thousands of warriors in magetech armor, both terrible and tragic in their repose. Waiting silently for the day Celestia and Luna would call to them. Derran slowly nodded.

"I have seen what horrors Hayden considers acceptable when it comes to his mad delusions. To men like him, things like murder, torture, and heresies against the Light are inconsequential. All part of a dark calculus that justifies any evil in the name of getting what they desire. Hayden thinks himself a god. . . that he is above the the Seraphim. . .That he is above the Light! That his word is right merely by virtue of him having said it." At Derran's next words, all those in the room trembled with combined feelings of dread, and hope. "Tomorrow, we shall raise the power, that has taught innumerable false gods, that they too, can die. . ."