Eight years. Anton had been here for eight years.
He sat up in his bed, throwing off the thick quilt. He stepped down from the wooden frame, walking over to a small mirror hung on the interior wooden wall. The bunker had been built up over these years, with there no longer being any gaps in between the stones or around the entrances. He now had doors; wooden ones he had reinforced with spare metal from the Valkyrie. A kind of rockcrete had been provided, allowing him to give the bunker a uniform appearance. The interior had a wooden floor, as well as a few storage boxes, enough utilities for a basic mess station, a bed, and even a mount for one of the Heavy Bolters, which gave it a position that oversaw the whole canyon.
All of the materials, and even some assistance in producing it, was provided by the Apple Family.
He examined himself in the mirror, the bags under his eyes as he groggily reached for a small metal mug and a bowl full of leaves. Through a bit of experimenting with Zecora, he had finally managed to discover a mixture of leaves that created something similar to Recaf. He wrapped the mixture of leaves in a piece of cloth and hit the switch on a small stove. As the water heated up, he used his "magic" to dip the mug into the water and placed the cloth inside it.
As he did, he caught sight of his back in the mirror. All and up the length of his back was covered in scars; some faded and white, while many more were fresh, red and speckled with barely dried skin and scabbed over plates. He gingerly touched the most recent scar, which still oozed puss and semi-liquid blood. He hissed at the sudden spike of pain, but grit his teeth and swallowed.
He removed the cloth from the tin, untieing it and tossing the leaves out a small window behind the bunker. He placed the steaming mug on an open section of the mess station and turned off the stove, before heading back to his bed. He stooped down and removed a loose floorboard beneath it. Having done this hundreds of times, his magic instantly wrapped around what was stored within.
He pulled out his means of recompense, examining the bloodied root. It had long since dried out, which caused it to shrivel and blacken into something more resembling black wood than root. The thorns had blunted from repeated use, though still stuck out enough to create a painful spark upon impact. Dried blood and puss clung to almost every millimeter of it, staining it a mix of reds, blacks, and sickly yellows.
He examined it, before sighing. He had no reason to add further pain to his burden, especially with the-
The final, nagging voice of his former zeal reared itself from his worn-down subconscious. He was concerning himself with the habits and arrangements of Xenos! A true servant of the Emperor would have grabbed all of the ammunition he could and burned them for their crimes! Purged all of them! Either die in battle, putting the unclean to the sword or end it simply and pray for the Emperor's forgiveness; not simply marching on and hoping for his wounds to finally become infected and kill him.
"But I'm not a servant of the Emperor, am I?", he asked himself, throwing the shriveled reed back under the bed. "I'm one of them; a blight upon the galaxy." The voice did not answer. He replaced the board, before reaching into the chest by his bed for a fresh set of clothes.
+++++~+++++
The walk out of the Everfree was uneventful, with only a few creatures getting in his way. Soon, he found himself on the main road through the forest. Even less bothered him as he went along the packed dirt path as the thick, malformed trees of the Everfree gave way to the ordered rows and exposed sky of the outer limits of Sweet Apple Acres.
The sun beat down on him, seeping through his undershirt and pants. It was a bit brighter than usual, especially since it hadn't been that hot the previous few days. He then recalled why; Applejack told him about something called the Summer Sun Celebration; some sort of heretical ritual where the "Princess" of these Xenos would "Raise the Sun". He hadn't been particularly enthused when Applejack explained it to him, mainly because he had no interest in involving himself in the process.
He kowtowed to the Xenos and their demands on numerous occasions, that faithful voice said. Why should engaging in some sort of ritual be any different for him? He told himself it was different; he just didn't know how.
He was drawn from his stupor by the sound of something growling. He drew his sword, his aura pressing down the activation button to send a crackling blue aura around it. He scanned the trees, looking for a timberwolf or a bear, the most likely culprit. When that search turned up empty, he looked up into the trees, before deactivating the sword and throwing a scowl at the source of the snoring.
The multicolored female named Rainbow Dash was, once again, napping in one of the trees. He remembered the first time he had met her. The two had met about two years ago, when she was helping one of her friends, Fluttershy, move into the town. He found her to be arrogant and bratty, but she did portray a few, more human traits: pride, drive for excellence, and dedication, among others. So, she was one of the more tolerable of Applejack's friends.
Still, she had been told to keep her out of the trees. He hopped the fence, sword still held in his aura as he walked around the base of the tree. She was laying on her back, wings curled over her eyes to shield herself from the sun, forelegs propping up her head. He studied the branch, noting that it had no fruit while the others were festooned with it, and that a few of its leaves were already turning yellow. Lifting up his sword, he gave a massive swing, nearly cleaving the branch off with that single blow.
Rainbow Dash awoke to the sound of snapping wood, before tumbling off her mount as it slackened. She yelped as she fell face-first into the dirt, her wings spread out around her. As she attempted to sit up, she felt a sharp feeling of warm metal press against her back, right between her wings. "Again, dude?", she asked.
"You know how Applejack feels about you being in the trees", Anton said, stepping back and sheathing his sword. "Besides, didn't she say you had something to do today?"
"Yeah yeah yeah. Jeez, you sound like my Uncle", she said, giving him her signature smile and a sweeping hoof as she got to her hooves. "It's just clearing the clouds. I can get that done in ten seconds flat."
He would've raised an eyebrow if he hadn't seen her speed in action before. Instead, he just sighed. "My first point stands."
"I was in the area, I was tired, and there aren't any clouds around this part of Ponyville", she said.
Anton said, "Just don't in the future."
"You got it", she said, bunching up like a spring and launching herself forward. As the dust cleared, she was nowhere in sight, save for a blue and spectral colored blur disappearing into the distance.
Anton sighed, knowing she'd be back on another one within the week. If there was one thing she wasn't it was honest. And maybe consistent, if what Fluttershy said about some of her exploits were accurate. Well, second-hand accounts, as she never really said anything around him.
He wrapped the branch in his aura, giving a sudden twist to dislodge what was still connected to the tree. It broke off with a snap, hitting the dirt behind him and kicking up some of it. He growled and began to drag the large branch along the ground towards the central compound.
He approached the path that ran into the compound from the road, the branch barely slowing down his gait. He got free of the trees, propping the branch against the fence, using it to help get over the fence. As he did so, he heard an unfamiliar voice talking to someone else: "Summer Sun Celebration official overseer's checklist. Number one, banquet preparations: Sweet Apple Acres."