//------------------------------//
// Chapter 23 - Thinking with Portals 
// Story: Whistling Rain 
// by Schwabauer 
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General Halbach stood atop a hill overlooking the valley the majority of his force resided in, hundreds of thousands of troops having pitched tents, and various more permanent supply and support buildings under construction. General Balthasar Buus was running behind, again. His slow, meandering path across the Protectorate has led to him being far enough behind that work previously reserved for him had been delegated to other forces.   
 
To the south lay the Equestrian border. The territory immediately there was frightening from any perspective, with it being a wet marshland the majority during the winter, spring and early summer. The only way across during those seasons is a single railroad and a small town right in the center of a small highlands area. Plans were laid and preparations made for a rapid strike into the station, with extra rail and extensive building materials ready for the rapid expansion of the rail lines to achieve an even higher throughput.  
 
The Equestrian Expeditionary Force was marching towards the border, preparing to try and intercept the EIF, despite being outnumbered 3 to 1. The Halbach had to give the Equestrians credit where it was due, they did have a superior air fleet, numbering just over a hundred airships and several dozen pegasi squadrons, which dwarfed the Prussian fleet assigned to the invasion, a mere twenty ships with a dozen balloons for light support. The majority of the fleet was still on earth, conducting operations over the jungles of South America. With any luck the vastly superior Prussian artillery would keep them at bay. 
 
Turning his gaze back north, Halbach searched for signs of the Scandinavian Reserve Army on the horizon, and much to his displeasure resorted to using a spyglass to find them pitching tents for the evening four full days march away. He grunted with displeasure and signaled for an aide. 
 
“Send the air fleet to collect extra coal and shells from the town here,” he ordered, jabbing at the map, “We might as well make use of this extra time that the Scandinavians have unfortunately given us.” 
 
The aide nodded before darting off to do the deed. Within the hour the Prussian airships lifted off, their boilers steaming and pistons firing, pushing them towards the town. Eventually Halbach retired for the night, but not until he had conducted yet more situations on his planning table.  
 


 
 
Celestia and Luna sat huddled around a scrying bowl in their command tent, spying on the amassed Prussian forces along the border. They were horrified by their size and variety, which far outpaced any military force they had ever seen in their two thousand years of rulership. They were so utterly unprepared for such an uneven fight. 
 
“We must destroy that rail station and the raised levees that the tracks sit on, sister. We cannot let them lead a foray into Equestria. There are no strong defensible land formations for hundreds of miles, and we cannot meet this force in battle,” Luna said, tapping her hoof on the map of equestria to indicate the nearest defensive line, “Not only that, but they have the upper hand on technology, their muskets and cannon still outrange all but the most talented of unicorns. I hate to admit it, but we have to incorporate at least some of their technology into our forces if we are to win.” 
 
Celestia looked dejectedly at the scrying bowl, before saying, “I believe I do have a spell to nullify this invasion and buy us time. In that time, we can grow our forces and perhaps incorporate this musketry with some divisions. It will be difficult to adapt them for our use though, sister.” 
 
“What is this spell that can ‘nullify’ the invasion?” Luna questioned, “I have combinations of spells that could slow or halt it, but not a single. How will you stop them in their tracks?” 
 
“By destroying them in their entirety.” 
 


 
 
The next morning General Buus had his army marching along the track bed, following the rails towards the bivouac. His distrust of trains was earning him no small favors with his men, but he insisted that they brave the barren tundra, oh so similar to that of their home, for their safety. Something felt off about the train, something had he couldn’t quite put his finger on. But all the same he followed that feeling. It had never led him astray before. 
 
Tens of miles away Celestia climbed to the top of a snowcapped mountain, her personal guard, physician, and dearest sister beside her. Deep into the blue of distance she could see the Prussian army with her own eyes, a diseased, discolored blot upon the land. With a growing certainty she began channeling magic into her horn.  
 
General Halbach had his men conducting drills in the center of the camp, marching and reloading. Firing and charging. Stabs and parries. Everything proper of infantry. The skirmishers were in the wilder area of the valley, conducting further more exercises. He let out a content hum while watching the train, which should have held the majority of Buus’s forces, and even the general himself, instead only unloading thousands of tons of supplies. He had a good feeling about today, something good would come of it, he was sure.  
 
Celestia was now floating two feet off the ground, horn glowing brilliantly, much like magma would. Her wings and feathers were spread like that of an imperial eagle, commanding power from all who gazed upon her. Her pupils were gone, her eyes pure arcana, swirling yellow and orange vying for control. The heat that radiated from her skin was strong enough that the snow around her had melted, and then boiled off. Her entourage had evacuated to a fifteen-hoof perimeter, many of whom were alternating between watching her with faces off awe and fearfully looking at each other. Suddenly her horn’s energy released all at once, warping it as it erupted upwards, a pillar of brilliant light blinding all who looked upon it. 
 
Celestia then went limp, her boiling fur scorching the rock as she hit it. Her doctor tried to rush close, only to be seized by her guard, keeping him back while she cooled. After a minute, the doctor rushed to her aid, already casting spells, and diagnosing her. 
 
The pillar of light shot in an upwards arc, flying high into the atmosphere before splitting in two. The larger of the two sped off at an immense speed, shattering the sound barrier many times over before racing into space, beelining for the sun. The other began a lazy, slow parabolic arc down, down, down towards the Prussian forces, glowing brightly still as it did so. 
 


 
 
General Halbach glanced up four minutes later, and noticed a strange beam of light that morphed into a tiny circle that began spinning fast a dozen feet above him. He paused to look at it confused. The circle then lit up with what looked like a boiling, churning plane that extended forever. And suddenly some of it was split off, getting pulled down through the portal. For less than a moment he felt fear, scrambling to run away, then agonizing heat broiled over him, and he felt nothing. 
 
All of the line infantry were atomized immediately, not even having the time to process what happened to them. The train was slagged and blow out towards the hills, boiling metal scatting across the earth. The wood and stone hospitals and warehouses were obliterated, burning to nothing in a moment, or folding into themselves, shattering under the heat of the sun. 
 
Troops at the edge of the valley faired just as bad, the fireball that didn’t immediately kill them gave them agonizing burns, often igniting their cloths and surroundings, before the shockwave shattered bones or flung them away from the blast. Then came the pressure wave, which pulverized their lungs as it battered its way across the landscape. The light infantry down in the weeds and mud that were most fortunate escaped with minimal third-degree burns, and only slightly ruptured lungs, getting flung up and out of cover as the mud beneath them baked to clay. 
 
By the time help arrived fewer than two hundred soldiers would be alive.  
 


 
 
General Buus watched with horror as a massive mushroom cloud erupted from the valley, shooting ash and soot hundreds of feet into the air with a fireball of death. Then came the shock wave. The hills rolled, cracking and shattering away from the explosion, rattling the ground beneath his feat. Hot, compressed air broiled out towards him, evaporating any snow in the tundra. Chunks of trees were flung so far out that they were landing just a couple of miles in front of his formation.  
 
The following day he reached the edges of the shattered hills, leading his troops from the front up over the broken, craggy rocks and dirt. Atop it he looked down, in nearly the same spot Halbach had days earlier, and wept. Where once six hundred thousand troops camped was now a blackened wasteland.