//------------------------------// // Chapter 11 // Story: Shadowbolt Harmony Division // by Rainium //------------------------------// Ponyville, 1006 ANM. Once she was in the relative privacy of a side room in Twilight’s castle, Celestia stretched out her pinions with a long, held-out groan. She might have had thousands of years of experience with public events, but the relief of stepping out of view and unwinding never dulled. Following her inside was Twilight’s protégé: Starlight Glimmer. She still wore her Pink Heart of Courage around her neck, the award she had just received for her efforts in repelling the changeling invasion. Celestia had spent the entire invasion in a goo pod, and her back was still stiff from the experience. “I would like to once again congratulate you, as well as personally thank you for saving Equestria, Starlight,” Celestia started. “It’s nothing, Princess,” Starlight replied bashfully. “I just did what any other pony would have done.” “Yes, but no other pony could have succeeded. You displayed unparalleled amounts of adaptability and intuition in a seemingly hopeless situation, and you were able to almost single-hoofedly save Equestria from complete changeling dominance. This may be cliché to say, but you were literally our last hope, and you pulled through. We all owe you our gratitude.” Starlight bowed her head. “I appreciate the compliments, Princess, but I’ve been showered with enough praise tonight. Something tells me this meeting is about something more.” “Perceptive, too,” Celestia chuckled. “Well, Starlight, I also had a lengthy conversation with your mentor about your future. I won’t go into specifics, but Twilight felt that your studies had come to an end. She was prepared to ship you off to the ends of Equestria and beyond to let you become your own mare, follow your own adventures, further your own studies. However, I was able to coax her into leaving that decision up to you, and you have chosen to stay.” “Yes. I may have graduated from Twilight’s friendship lessons, but I’m not ready to leave her just yet. I still feel like there is so much for me to learn here in Ponyville and Equestria, and I feel like I have a long way to go before I feel comfortable to head out on my own.” “I wholeheartedly support your decision. And if you’re going to be sticking around, then I plan to utilize your talents for good. Which is why I’ve asked to speak with you privately like this. I have a job offer for you.” Starlight tilted her head. “I’m listening.” “For the past few years, I’ve been putting together a covert ops team. This is highly classified information. Not even Twilight knows that this exists. Whether you accept or deny, this conversation never leaves this room, understand?” “Covert ops? For what?” “For the experience you just went through, Starlight. To me, it feels like our kingdom is being invaded twice a year now, and it feels like I’m incapacitated for over a half of them. One of these times, our luck is going to run out. This team will ensure that continuity of government prevails in these times of crisis. You, if you accept, and the rest of the team will be embedded in Equestrian society, only activated in times of great distress. The team will emphasize adaptability, tenacity, creativity, and the ability to operate independently without a central command. All traits that you have demonstrated. I think you’d be a perfect fit for this operation.” “Continuing with my studies, while also helping to serve the nation that gave me a second chance?” Starlight replied with a smile. “Sounds like a perfect deal to me.” Celestia smiled back. “It is a perfect deal. And you’re the perfect mare for the job.” Manehattan, 1008 ANM. “Have a seat, soldier,” Shining said. The EUP guard nervously sat himself in the chair across the table from Shining Armor. He was flanked by Lightning Dust and Sugarcoat on either side; Lightning brandished her pistol in a ready position, while Sugarcoat held a sterilized needle. Outside of Shining’s office, Lemon Zest and Gridlock kept careful watch over the rest of the EUP survivors as they waited for their turn. The only Shadowbolt not involved in crowd control was Sour Sweet. Instead, she fiddled with a control tablet, and somewhere outside, a recon drone was flying slow circles around the staging area, each lap further out than the last. Sugarcoat stepped up to the seated guard. “Give me your hoof.” The guard offered it after only a moment’s hesitation, and Sugarcoat gently pricked the frog with the end of the needle before pulling it out just as fast as it went in. The end gleamed red with blood, and it bubbled up slightly from the small entry wound. “He’s a pony,” Sugarcoat confirmed audibly, and Lightning relaxed her stance. “Thank you,” Shining said to both Sugarcoat and the guard. “You may go now.” The confused guard blinked, but stood and saluted all the same before leaving out the back door and into the ferry station. Lightning gestured for Gridlock to bring in the next guard while Sugarcoat sterilized the needle. “You really think the changelings stuck around?” Shining asked as he rubbed both eyes with a hoof each. “They’ve proven that they can take your guards’ forms,” Lightning said. “And if they did it once, why wouldn't they stick around and try to sabotage even more? Better safe than sorry.” “Better safe than sorry,” Shining echoed in agreement. “But for how long can we assume we’re in the clear after this? We can’t exactly go through this whole routine every single day to know who to trust.” Lightning’s mouth became a thin line. “We’ll figure it out.” Shining just sighed and closed his eyes. Lightning glanced over at her team’s markspony. “How’s it going over there, Sour?” “No princesses yet,” Sour replied as her eyes remained glued to the video screen on her tablet. “Whatever the glitching is on our motion trackers is also causing the drone to act up too. It’s making this a lot slower than it should be.” “Keep looking. They can’t have gone far, especially if they’re infected like Shining says.” “I was planning on it,” Sour replied with a roll of her eyes. Lightning turned her attention to the new guard entering the office, and her pistol raised to the ready position. The guard, a mare this time, shifted her eyes suspiciously between Lightning and Sugarcoat before settling on Shining. “We’re working with these assholes now?” she asked Shining, as if the Shadowbolts weren’t there. “Yes, we are,” was Shining’s measured response. “They showed up to save our asses, and we’re on the same side. That’s good enough for me. Have a seat, soldier.” The guard sat down and offered her hoof to Sugarcoat. “We’re on the same side now, but how long will that last? If they’re anything like the ones in the Dark Zone, it won’t be long before they’re throwing us under the carriage.” “That’s enough, soldier,” Shining ordered firmly, and the mare clamped her muzzle shut and looked away. “Sugarcoat, do it.” Sugarcoat pricked the underside of the guard’s hoof, though she purposefully stabbed it deeper and longer than she had for the other stallion. When she pulled it out, it glistened red and dripped blood down onto her fur. “Pony,” Sugarcoat said. Shining nodded. “Thank you. You may go.” The guard stood and saluted, but didn’t as much as look in Lightning or Sugarcoat’s direction as she took her leave. Shining leaned back in his chair and sighed. “My apologies. She’s been serving in the EUP since the first days of the outbreak. Given how rough it’s been these past few weeks, she’s… understandably jaded. She doesn’t mean it.” “She worked with the First Wave?” Lightning asked. Shining nodded. “So did I. Feels so long ago now.” Lightning chewed her bottom lip as she chose her next words carefully. “What went wrong?” “Just about everything. There were just too many sick, too much unrest for us to handle. We were stretched much too thin. Then the Princesses went down, and any hope we had of containing it evaporated into thin air.” “How did it happen?” Lightning asked. Shining’s eyes glazed over. “We thought the mere presence of the Princesses would be enough to bring some calm and order to the city. Let them know that they weren’t forgotten, that we were working on solutions. But it almost made the situation worse. Seeing the Princesses and realizing that this virus was even beyond their capacity to fix… it made the reality set in for a lot of ponies. “A few days after they arrived, they planned to give a speech on Bridleway and pass out relief supplies. Standard media op. Up on the stage were the two sisters, myself, and the de facto leader of the First Wave: Starlight Glimmer.” Lightning tilted her head. “Glimmer? You mean Princess Twilight’s pet project?” “Her student, yes. Must’ve been hard for Starlight. All that magical prowess in a city that would kill her if she used it. But she did as valiant a job as anyone could’ve in the situation. It was just too much for anyone to handle, really. “But when we were up there, and the princesses were giving that speech, the crowd suddenly turned violent. They surged forward, overwhelming the guard rails and the EUP trying to hold them back. The Princesses had to use their magic to stop us from being trampled to death. They’d realized their mistake the moment their horns began to glow, but it was either infection or death by mob. That’s when I gave the order to pull out and sealed off anyone left behind. Starlight had disappeared in the chaos, and I don’t think she made it out. She could be dead, for all I know.” “And now the First Wave hates you for leaving them behind,” Lightning said. Shining grimaced. “We had no choice. The Shadowbolts thought they had it under control, that they were almost on the precipice of turning this thing around. Well, having a mob of ponies try to trample their rulers is about as out of control as you can possibly get. There was no saving the Dark Zone.” Lightning wanted to find some fault in that, but as she ran the situation through her mind, she couldn’t do anything but agree with Shining. Shadowbolts weren’t supposed to leave ponies behind, but this city was beyond anything anyone had ever seen before. The rules of engagement flew completely out the window. You couldn’t risk the safety of your squad members by leaving the Dark Zone open just because a bunch of traitors didn’t want to see the truth. The truth that they’d failed. If she was in Shining’s horseshoes, she would have sealed them off too. Lightning frowned, but before she could continue the conversation, the next guard stepped inside. His eyes scanned the room as he sat down in the chair as ordered, before focusing right in on Shining’s eyes with unblinking attention. “Hoof, please,” Sugarcoat said. He lifted his forehoof, but his eyes never left Shining. The captain fidgeted in his chair uncomfortably. “What’s your name, soldier?” Shining asked to break the tension. “Shouldn’t a captain know the names and faces of the soldiers under his command?” the guard answered cryptically. Lightning’s grip on the trigger of her pistol tightened. Shining’s eyes narrowed. “You’re right. I should. That’s why I’m trying to learn.” “There’s nothing to learn,” the guard laughed. “I’m just one of the countless faceless guards you use as pawns. You’ll just order me around, let me die, and forget I even existed. A happy little drone, ready to serve my purpose and nothing more. And here I thought ponies lived such better lives.” Sugarcoat’s needle pricked the guard’s hoof. Instead of breaking the skin, the needle slipped right past the frog, soon meeting something hard and solid with a little clink. When she pulled it back, there was no blood and no entry wound. The guard moved in a blur. Before Lightning could blink, his offered hoof drove itself into Sugarcoat’s jaw, snapping her head back and dropping her to the floor. He pulled his service weapon from under his jacket and aimed it right at Shining’s face. Time froze for a brief moment as the captain stared down the barrel. The bang of the gun coincided with the blue-yellow blur of Lightning Dust slamming into the guard’s side. Shining flinched as the bullet narrowly whizzed past his ear and punched a hole in the wall. On the floor, Lightning and the guard wrestled for control of his sidearm next to a dazed Sugarcoat. She slammed the hoof holding it into the ground once, twice… and on the third time, he relented his grip, and the gun skittered away. A sudden surge of strength through the guard caught Lightning off guard, and he threw her several hooflengths into the air to send her crashing against the wall. Outside in the waiting room, one of the guards in line bolted off as quickly as his legs could take him, blowing past Lemon and outside into the open air. Lemon and Gridlock wasted precious seconds internally debating between helping Lightning and chasing the new threat, but the two soon galloped out of the room after them while the remaining guards cowered in confusion. Lightning coughed as she forced herself to her hooves as quickly as she could. The guard was also rising onto all fours with a snarl. He crouched down to prepare to bolt; towards her, towards Shining, towards the door, she couldn’t tell. But he didn’t get the chance to before half of his head exploded. The report from Sour Sweet’s markspony rifle accompanied the spray of green hemolymph and black exoskeleton as the guard collapsed to the floor. His form flickered as he gave up the ghost, and his body changed from the unicorn stallion to a familiar black insectoid creature. Changeling. Lightning half expected him to just get back up again — with how much punishment she’s seen them take, she wouldn’t even be surprised — but his body remained unnaturally still. Deathly still. Sour Sweet scoffed as she lowered her rifle. “You’re welcome. Again.” Lightning let out a half-laugh that didn’t originate from any sense of humor. “You’re lucky you’ve got the only gun that can punch through their armor. Don’t lose that thing.” “Maybe I’ll start sleeping with it from now on,” Sour said. Meanwhile, Shining shakily stood up from behind his desk to examine the changeling’s body. “You saved my life, Agent. Thank you.” Lightning shrugged. “Consider us even now. At least we flushed out our changelings.” A dazed Sugarcoat climbed back up to her hooves as well, idly rubbing at the sore spot under her chin. “What was his end goal? He couldn’t possibly think he could take on all of us and escape.” “Kill Shining. Create a distraction so his partner could escape,” Sour mused. “They probably planned this out together before he came in.” “Well, let’s hope Lemon and Gridlock manage to bring back the other one,” Lightning said. A few minutes later, the other two Shadowbolts returned to the room with grim looks on their faces. “It got away,” Gridlock reported. “We couldn’t keep up.” Lightning blinked. “What do you mean, you couldn’t keep up? You’re Shadowbolts, for Celestia’s sake.” “Well, it’s kinda hard to keep pace when it sprouts wings and takes off into the damn sky,” Lemon retorted. “Nothing we could do but take a few potshots and watch it go.” “Well, did you at least manage to see which way it was heading?” Lightning asked. “Northeast. Towards the financial district. Swerved through a few of the taller buildings, looked like it might’ve been descending when I lost visual.” Gridlock said. Lightning tapped a hoof on the floor as her mind raced. “Right, we can work with that. Sour, you haven’t found the Princesses yet, have you?” “No, I have not. Thank you for reminding me,” Sour grumbled. “Divert your drone. Start canvassing the financial district for any signs of that runaway changeling. It’s the best lead we have.” “On it, give me a second,” Sour responded as she grabbed her tablet and started manipulating the controls. The Shadowbolts sat in silence as Sour circled skyscrapers in search of the loose bug, with only a few clicks and beeps from the tablet filling the air. Then, she shot up with a jolt, quickly prodding buttons and settings. “Got ‘em. Intersection of Pine and Bridleway, moving east on hoof.” “Jackpot,” Lightning grinned. “Keep a target lock on that changeling, I want to know exactly where it is at all times. Everyone else, pack up and move out. Hopefully, that bug will take us straight to where they’re keeping the princesses.” “I’ll come with you,” Shining said. “Bring a squad of EUP. Overwhelm whatever’s there with numbers.” Lightning shook her head. “No. We need speed to catch up to that changeling, and too many ponies will slow us down. And, no offense Captain, but I don’t know if I trust your troops in a firefight just yet.” Shining frowned. “They’re raw, but they can still hold their own.” “Sure, but they’re not Shadowbolts,” Lightning said. “Evacuate your troops and take them to the Maneway Station instead. There are civilians and injured EUP guards there that need your help more than we do. If we find the princesses, we’ll bring them there.” Shining hesitated, then nodded. “Understood. See you soon, Agent.” “Stay safe,” Lightning replied before turning her attention to her fellow agents. “Squad, let’s move out! We’ve got bugs to squash and princesses to save.” Rainy was used to long periods of doing nothing. As a former guardpony, she had spent several hours on end standing in one position and staring straight ahead. She had learned to grow comfortable with nothing but her own thoughts. However, she still found herself antsy as she sat on Aerion’s couch. Maybe it was the fact that she knew she was slowly burning up from the inside, and that she was working on borrowed time from here on out. Maybe it was the fact that she was seen as a rogue agent, and that there were probably many, many ponies in the city looking for her right now. But whatever the reason, she could no longer spend her time sitting and staring at nothing. Next to her charred, shredded Shadowbolt flight suit on the coffee table rested her rifle, her first aid syringe, and her newly-acquired deployable turret. Rainy pulled the turret closer to her and pressed the unfold button, causing it to spring open from its casing and scan the room in front of her with its red targeting laser. The Freelancer engineers at the Spellcaster had jury-rigged the Division tech to work without a SPARC, which meant that anyone could use it. However, that also meant that it wouldn’t recognize her as a friendly target anymore. She had to un-jury-rig it so that she wouldn’t be shot at every time she used it. This task kept her busy for the next few hours while the sun poked through small holes in the cloud cover up above. She only took breaks to rummage through Aerion’s kitchen for food to snack on while she worked. As she gnawed on a granola bar, she put the finishing touches on the control board and synced the connection with her SPARC watch. The watch flashed blue to signify the pairing was successful before returning to its ambient orange lightning, matching the orange streak in her mane. “ALERT. NEW DEVICE DETECTED. ADDING CONTROLS TO HUD,” the SPARC chimed in her earpiece. Her contact lenses booted up into combat mode automatically as the turret sprung to life out of its casing. As its targeting laser swept the empty room, a new row of icons appeared in the corner of Rainy’s vision. Controls for turning it on and off, setting the maximum distance at which to engage… as well as the ability to set priority targets. This thing would be a massive help in the field, and the regenerating ability meant she’d never be without it for long. However, as it automatically scanned the area, one of the bedroom doors opened to reveal Aerion carrying a piece of MagiTech in her hoof. “Hey, Agent, I was looking at—” Before Aerion could finish, the turret suddenly locked in on her center of mass with a chirping noise. The message [TARGET ACQUIRED] flashed across Rainy’s HUD. “Shit!” Aerion yelped as she dove behind the nearest couch. The turret clicked as it chambered a round—then suddenly shut off before it could fire it. It obediently folded back up into its casing until it looked like a briefcase once again, and the room fell into silence. “Phew,” Rainy exhaled as she watched the shutdown sequence finish. “Sorry, Aerion.” Aerion poked her head out from behind the couch, and her face was as white as a ghost. “That thing almost fucking shot me. Of course it did.” “I don’t know how that would happen,” Rainy said. “You’re not hostile. We’re lucky I was able to hit the off switch in time. Maybe I messed something up when I was connecting it to my SPARC…” Aerion sighed. “Ah. There’s the problem. It’s one of the many flaws of the manufacturer that made this Division junk.” “Another manufacturing issue? You sure you’re not just still mad you lost out on the contract?” Rainy scoffed. “No, I’m serious,” Aerion said as she sat across from Rainy. “I’ve already proven to you that they’ve been cutting costs everywhere on this tech. They neglected to put in filters to protect against magical contamination. And now they’ve cut corners on target identification.” “Elaborate, please.” “Well, I can’t speak specifics on how the whole process went down, considering I wasn’t there… but it probably went something like this. The Division couldn’t figure out the best way for their turret AI to target enemies. Target openly hostile ponies? Too difficult to determine and code. Target armed ponies? Then it’ll target friendly soldiers as well. So, instead of thinking of more creative solutions, they chose the simplest one: attack anyone without a SPARC. That way, it’s guaranteed to leave Division targets alone.” “But it will attack anyone else.” “Exactly. Civilians? EUP guards? Surrendering rioters? Doesn’t matter, it’ll open fire on all of them if they don’t have a SPARC. Yet another avoidable oversight with very fatal flaws because they were concerned about cost. Despicable, if you ask me.” “Long story short: I need to be careful when using this thing.” “Succinctly put, Agent. Well done.” Rainy sighed as she looked down at her orange watch. “You seem very invested in this Division contract you missed out on.” “Yeah, it’s a bit of a sore spot for me. Feels like a bad ex I had almost managed to forget about… but now here I am, surrounded by them, constantly reminded of what happened.” Rainy chuckled dryly. “I know how that feels. We’re more alike than you first thought.” “Sorry Agent, I didn’t mean it like that.” Rainy waved her off with a hoof. “It’s fine. Agrippa and I already vented on you this morning. But if you need to do the same, I’m here to listen. Got nothing else to do.” Aerion leaned back with a sigh, and a hoof rubbed at her chin. “The offer came at a very unstable time in my life. I just graduated from magic university, had next to nothing to my name, looking for any opportunity to jumpstart my business. Suddenly, the crown came calling. MagiTech R&D for a spec ops unit. Multi-year contract, tons of pay, tons of stability. It was a dream offer for someone like me, and I came in swinging with my best offer. You’ve got a few of the prototypes in front of you.” Rainy glanced down at the equipment resting on the coffee table in front of her: the first aid syringe, the SPARC uplink, the HUD contact lenses. “It’s been pretty reliable for me so far, yeah.” “Mmhm. I put everything I had into them. But, of course, a bigger MagiTech company came in, promising to do more for less, and I lost out. I was able to recover and I’m doing well now, sure, but that missed opportunity almost bankrupted me. And yeah, maybe I’m still mad about it.” “Maybe?” Rainy grinned. “Screw you,” Aerion scoffed playfully. “Don’t insult one of the two ponies trying to keep you alive.” Just then, the door to Aerion’s guest room swung open, and Agrippa stepped out into the living room. She had clearly been crying; she had done her best to rub the tear lines out of her cheek fur, but her eyes remained puffy and red. She had a determined look on her face, however, and she stepped right up to the couches where the other two mares were sitting. “Time’s up. No more feeling sorry for ourselves. We need to get moving on virus research again if we want to save Rainy’s life,” Agrippa said. Rainy sprang up onto all fours and stretched out her neck with a groan. “Great, I’m more than ready. What’s first?” “First up is virus sample collection. And I’m coming with you.” Rainy paused. “...Excuse me?” “You won’t know what the hell you’re looking for down there, Rainy. I’m coming.” “Agrippa—... Doctor, this city isn’t safe. You can’t just wander around out there and expect to make it back alive.” “Good thing I won’t just be wandering around out there alone, huh? I’ll have my very own super soldier running security.” Rainy sighed. “I’m not talking you out of this, am I?” “Nope, so save your breath,” Agrippa said as she made her way to the front door. “We’ve got a ways to go, so let’s get moving so we’re back before daybreak.” Rainy grabbed her equipment from the coffee table and hurried to follow. “Where are we headed?” “Saddle Row. Ground zero.” The artificial canyons of the Financial District were almost completely abandoned. The sparse amounts of apartments compared to the rest of the city meant it wasn’t that bustling outside of working hours to begin with, but since the rich financiers were the first to abandon ship once virus cases started spreading, there weren’t even survivors lingering around. Just enormous, glittering skyscrapers towering over narrow streets, making Lightning feel like a bug crawling through the crevices of the Badlands. The five Shadowbolts traveled alone through the carriage-ridden streets as they followed the trail of their runaway changeling. Lightning led the way, with Gridlock and Lemon watching the sides and Sugarcoat bringing up the rear. Rather than walking, Sour rode atop Gridlock’s back, keeping her forehooves free to steer her drone in pursuit of the changeling. The batpony stallion plodded along like she wasn’t even there. “It just turned into an office building two blocks ahead,” Sour called out. “Alright, put the drone on a holding pattern around that building, make sure it doesn’t leave through a door or window,” Lightning said. “Everyone else, double time it. We can’t lose him in there, there’s too many floors for us to sweep.” The Shadowbolts broke into a quick trot. The fresh snow dusting the ground from last night made following the changeling’s fresh tracks easy, and soon the team was in front of the target building’s lobby. Its condition was relatively pristine compared to the rest of the city; there was still some evidence of looters picking around, but there wasn’t much in terms of useful supplies present. Plus, its isolated position on the south of the island meant it was separated from the riots around the Dark Zone. Sour slid off Gridlock’s back and readied her markspony’s rifle. “Drone scanner says the lobby's clear. Other than that, it's hard to tell. Too much brick and not enough open windows to see.” Lightning stepped inside the lobby and scanned the interior with her eyes before glancing down. Wet hoofprints from freshly melted snow tracked across the fancy tile, from the front door all the way to the main stairwell. “Follow the hoofprints. Take care not to scuff them up,” Lightning said before moving deeper. The team hastily followed the prints up the stairway, hurrying to find their owner before the tracks dried up. Up and up the switchbacks they went, sweeping their corners with their rifles with methodical efficiency. “This is entirely too easy,” Gridlock mused under his breath. “Do you think it wants to be followed?” “The only reason Equestria is still around is because of villain stupidity most of the time,” Lemon muttered back. “Don’t look a gift pony in the mouth.” “A what?” Gridlock asked. “You Equestrians gift other ponies to each other?” “...Forget I said anything,” Lemon said. “Quiet back there. We don’t want them knowing we’re following them,” Lightning hissed. The hoofprints stopped about halfway up the building. Instead, they diverted right into the closed door of the stairwell access before disappearing beyond. Lightning signaled for the team to pause before pressing her ear to the cold steel. Inside, she could hear the murmuring of a conversation, and she pressed harder against the door to listen in. “What do you mean, they’re infected?” a voice echoed faintly through the door. “I mean that they’re infected,” a second one responded. “Scanner lit up with all sorts of nasty numbers. The blue one’s so sick, she can’t even see. Why they even bothered to put them in decontamination cubes, I have no idea.” “So the whole plan’s a bust then.” “Yep. Absorbing any love from them would be one hell of a last meal, though.” “The Queen’s not gonna be happy to hear that…” Lightning pulled away from the door and motioned to the squad. “They’re here. And I think they’ve got the princesses in there with them.” “Well, let’s bust down the door and kill ‘em then,” Lemon responded. “We’ve got to do this carefully though. No explosives and no full auto, we don’t want to accidentally hit the princesses if they’re in there. If they are, try to draw fire and attention away from their location so the bugs don’t hit them either.” The Agents nodded, and Lightning continued. “Sugarcoat, you’re on the door. Everyone else, stack up. I’ll go first. Sour, you take up the rear.” “The back?” Sour scoffed. “But I’m the only one that can actually kill those things.” “Exactly. If you go through first and immediately get killed, we’re shit out of luck. We all go through, draw their attention, you come in last and pick them off. Got it?” Sour nodded. “Good plan, Agent.” The Shadowbolt lined up along the wall next to the door, and Sugarcoat stood with her hoof on the handle. Once Lightning nodded, Sugarcoat softly pulled down and yanked the door open a few inches, giving Lightning enough room to uncork a flash grenade and toss it into the room before yanking it back closed. “Grenade!” someone shouted from inside before there was a loud pop and a flash of white light through the door frame. Sugarcoat immediately flung the door open, and Lightning slid inside. All her CQC training came to her instinctively, making every movement second nature. She flowed through the doorframe like water, raising her pistol to aim down the sights, eyes taking in the scene in front of her… She was face to face with herself.