*Italics signify that it is being spoken in the species’ native language, or in the universal language of the Covenant, and that this is the closest possible translation.
*Thud.*
The soft sound of a foot falling.
*Thud.*
There was no other noise.
*Thud.*
The light was dim and flickering.
*BANG!*
The only audible sound was that of the Ultra’s heavy breathing as he leaned against the wall. Ever so slowly, he pulled his fist away from the unfortunate wall he had decided to vent on, revealing the considerable dent it now sported.
Time seemed to slow down. The Ultra did not know how long he stood there. Doing nothing. Feeling nothing.
Thinking nothing.
Eventually, he returned to his senses. Slowly but surely, he raised himself to his full height and resumed his slow trod down the dimly lit hallway. His mind began to function once again, and he started to reflect upon his life. What was he? Who was he?
He was a warrior. A leader. A follower. A believer.
...A killer. A destroyer.
A murderer.
The faces of those he had slain flashed through his mind. There were many species present, but the human ones stood out the most vividly. The Ultra took a moment to reflect on what little he knew of the human race. Apparently, they were the chosen ones of the Reclaimers. The chosen ones of his gods.
And he had murdered them.
He thought of the times he’d seen humans acting naturally. The times where he’d been safely hidden by his cloaking mechanisms, just moments before striking. Humans were friendly creatures. They laughed with each other. They cared for each other. They supported one another. And on the battlefield, he had to admit, they could be a force to be reckoned with.
Despite his previous hatred for them, even he had to admit the humans had a strength of their own. Even their lowly marines had the courage and will to stand and fight, even against seemingly overwhelming odds. They stood their ground, willing to give their lives to protect their homes, families, and livelihoods.
To protect them from monstrosities like himself.
The Ultra shuddered to think of how many nightmares his own form now occupied. How many families he had torn apart. How much destruction he had helped to sow. How much he had actually helped to destroy the very race his gods had chosen. How much wrong he had done...all because of a lie.
Women, children, men, soldiers, and even the Demons he once cursed. The billions that were on each planet as they were glassed by the genocidal Covenant. How many? How many of the Reclaimers have died? How many of them has his race alone killed? What were the totals of all the deaths...over the lie?
The Ultra turned his attention to his own species. To the Covenant. Were they like the humans? Was his race, and his fellow believers, as peaceful, sociable, and happy as the humans?
No. Definitely not.
The Unggoy feared his species, following their every order just so that they may be left alone for another day. The Kig-Yar scoffed at them behind their backs, berating their brutish and forceful ways and instead relishing in their own more refined skills. The Jiralhanae paid them no respect, openly mocking their appearances, demeanors, and tactics.
Even some of his own species, other Sangheili, his “brothers,” would toss him aside for their own betterment if given the chance. Many of them, such as the Minor, probably even wished to see him dead. There was no camaraderie. There was no cooperation. There was no fun, no hope, no love. Only a common goal.
A common goal, which was a lie.
A lie to an entire species...several species, actually. By three simple individuals. How could this be possible? How did this begin? How is it that no one has seen through the falsehood, and set the Covenant on the true path to salvation and glory?
The Ultra felt empty. Hollow. Like a part of his very soul had been ripped from his chest. Who was he to trust? The leaders he had followed for as long as he could remember, or the construct that was obviously built by those who existed long before him, those whom he had revered for even longer?
Deep in his heart, he knew who he would follow. But sometimes, it was difficult to accept the truth.
The truth...that he was a monster. That all he had ever done was persecute an innocent race. One that was destined to lead them all to greatness. The humans were apparently supposed to know nothing but benevolence and righteousness. But instead, because of his very own actions, all they knew was fear, death, and hopelessness. The threat of extinction looming in their minds.
Oh how different they were from the Covenant. But thanks to three lying individuals, different meant ‘mortal enemies.’
And now he had crash-landed here. Here, among a third race. One that had never known war. One that knew nothing but peace. One that had welcomed his admittedly frightening appearance with naught but tolerance and friendship. One that, should he and his fellows choose to do so, could easily be consumed by the destructive fires of war.
...War. He knew its name, but only now was its face beginning to reveal itself through the gloom. Despite being a warrior his entire life, never before had he considered the enormity of his actions in such detail. He knew that he had caused countless amounts of death and destruction. And now, it seemed it was all in vain. Was there still hope for him? Could he possibly repent?
If they had not started the war, would the humans have treated him the same? He heard rumors about the first contact, but it was all broken up with no true story. One rumor, he had overheard from a Jiralhanae, was that the humans had attacked them first, and ate all aboard. Of course, he thought, it would really be the Jiralhanae who ate the humans. He remembered hearing about a planet a Chieftain had acquired...and how his crew hunted and ate most of the humans present.
Maybe...maybe coming here was a good thing. Perhaps spending time among these peaceful creatures could teach him a new way of life. One that would coincide with the Ancient Ones’ hopes. He only hoped the rest of his squad would be willing to follow his decision. Pip-Pap and Bok were loyal, if for no other reason than fear of retribution, but the Minor...this was going to be interesting.
There was a dull *thud* as the Ultra’s face collided with a large stone wall. He looked up, surprised, and realized that he’d reached the end of the corridor. Huh. He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts he never saw it coming. That was to be expected, he supposed.
Just as he was beginning to contemplate how he would get the door open, there was a soft rumbling and the two slabs of stone began to part. After a moment, the Ultra stepped through. He was surprised to see Princess Celestia waiting for him. She remained expressionless, but she did seem to have an air of sadness about her.
He briefly wondered how he didn’t notice her pass him in the corridor, but then he remembered: magic. Shaking his head ever so slightly, he wordlessly began walking up the passage back to the throne room. Celestia silently fell into step beside him. The Ultra once again appreciated Celestia’s tact. He didn’t much feel like talking at the moment.
The Ultra’s gaze ultimately fell upon the regal pony Princess, and he couldn’t help but marvel at her form once again. To be truthful, she was quite beautiful. Her coat was a pure, shimmering white, a perfect contrast to her glimmering golden regalia and mane of dark, colorful hues that always shifted in some non-existent wind.
The Ultra let out a sigh. Everything was so colorful here. He struggled to remember much of anything on his home planet that could rival Princess Celestia in radiance and sheer eye-catching brilliance. Even the human planet, Reach, failed to possess anything comparable to the magnificent hues of the Princess.
Suddenly, the Ultra felt the urge to speak. “Princess.”
Her gaze shifted to him. She was silent for a moment before replying. “Yes, Ultra?”
“How...” he trailed off, unsure of what exactly it was he wished to ask. “How is it that your people have never known war?”
Celestia’s eyebrows raised, but she otherwise remained expressionless. “We were not always peaceful. We have had our share of wars...but we have had a very long peace. We, along with most other nationales and creatures on this planet have recognized how destructive it is, and how horrific it is. A little over a thousand years ago, my sister grew envious of me. Ponies played in my light and loved to be in the sun’s warmth...but they rejected her night, and slept through it. She wanted ponies to enjoy the night as they do the light of the sun.”
“What happened?”
“I had to take drastic action...she refused to let the moon down. So I banished her to it. And for one thousand years, I wept every night. I died on the inside, knowing that one so close to me, and one I loved so dearly, had to be sent there in isolation...alone. I created laws after, and rules, so that ponies would enjoy her nights and her beautiful sky, just as they loved my days. Over time, ponies loved her nights without the rules and laws, and celebrated it even. Even now, I remember her face when she was restored to her true self... She was crying tears of happiness. And it made me happy as well. Do you see the moral of this story, Ultra?”
“I would like if you told me.”
“No matter how much hate you have in your heart at any time...with the right amount of love, happiness and peace are easily obtained. I think all you have to do is forgive yourself. You had no idea what these humans were until recently, right?”
“Correct, Princess.”
“Then you have nothing to stop you from forgiving yourself. Granted, genocide is an evil thing, very evil. Trust me, I know. But you...you know the truth now, and you should tell everyone you can about it so that all races can come together to find peace, and trust each other like I trust my sister.”
“If only it were that easy...” The Ultra was hit by a sudden memory of a human ODST burning on his energy sword, screaming out in pain at the top of his lungs...until blood overflowed them and he drowned in it. The Ultra shuddered involuntarily at the memory.
The Princess seemed to take notice. “Of course, I did not say it would be easy. It will take time to come to terms with what you have done. I can only imagine the horrors that you have witnessed.”
The Ultra nodded slowly. “I did not think of them as horrors before...but upon reflection, I see that I could easily be considered a monster. And yet...your subjects. They accepted us into their lives, gave us food and offered us friendship despite our admittedly frightening appearances. Despite the atrocities we’ve all committed. It must be nice to trust so easily...”
Celestia smiled serenely. “It is not so hard when all one knows is peace.” Suddenly, the Princess stopped, and turned to face the Ultra directly. The tall Sangheili also paused after a moment’s hesitation, waiting for her to speak.
Without warning, Celestia lifted a golden-gilded forehoof and laid it on the Ultra’s left shoulder. He did not resist. “Take a break, Ultra. Get away from it all. Seeing as we currently have no way of sending you back, spend some time here, with us. Remember what peace feels like. With the help of my faithful student and her friends, I’m confident that you too can learn the magic of friendship.”
The Ultra paused, allowing her words to fully sink in. Was it true? With enough time and love, could he truly repent? Could he become a force for good in this universe? One that works with the Reclaimers, and therefore the Gods, rather than against them to bring peace and enlightenment to all?
Seeing his hesitation, the Princess continued. “I know that peace conflicts with your species’ way of life. But even love and goodwill needs its champions. Those who stand resolutely against the forces of evil, determined to drive them back at all costs. I am one of those champions. I have fought for millennia to maintain the purity of this world. I have faced down foes more horrific than you could ever imagine, and I have done things that make me shudder upon reminiscence. We are not so different, you and I.
“So what do you say, Ultra? Do you accept my offer of friendship?”
This was it. This was the moment of truth. He could accept, casting away his past, his crimes, his misdoings. His evil ways. Or he could turn her away. Return to his ‘Prophets.’ Continue living the lie. But could he even do that, knowing the truth? Could he really return to his old ways of life, after the events of today?
...No. He could not. No longer would he remain in the shadows of a lie. No longer would he be wielded as a pawn of evil. No longer would he commit heinous crimes that defy even the will of the Gods. Repentance may come slowly, if at all, but if nothing else his evil ways would come to an end.
No more.
The Ultra raised his left hand and gently settled it on Celestia’s hoof. “Princess...I accept your offer of friendship. I would be honored if you would teach me the ways of peace and goodwill. I...I am ready to turn my back on the lies and the horrors of war. It is the will of the Gods that brought me to this planet, and I shall defy them no longer.”
And then the Princess smiled. The Ultra felt his breath catch in his throat. Never before had he witnessed something so radiant. So welcoming. So beautiful. It was a smile of relief and sheer joy. One that looked forward to the future with hope. One that reassured his blasted nerves and his broken conscience, telling him that everything would be all right.
It felt...good. It made him feel good. And, for the first time in a long time, he felt his mandibles twitch upwards in a grin of his own. Normally, a grinning Sangheili would be enough to send even the most battle-hardened marines running, but if Celestia was fazed at all by his expression she didn’t show it. The Ultra felt his respect for her grow just a bit more.
Yes. He would follow this Princess to whatever end. She was a true leader.
“I believe we must be going,” Celestia said after another moment or two, slowly withdrawing her hoof. “After all, your squad is still waiting for you.”
The Ultra nodded slowly, deep in thought. “Yes...they need to know the truth...”
“How are you going to tell them?” she continued, slowly trotting forward again.
“I am not sure,” the Ultra replied, falling into step beside her. “Bok and Pip-Pap are loyal to me, but it will probably take some time to convince them of the truth. I wish there was some form of evidence I could use. For all they know, you might have brainwashed me...”
Celestia frowned as she considered the Ultra’s words. “Hmm...perhaps this will be more difficult than we thought.” She sighed in frustration. “The Custodian has been an advisor of mine for many long years. His counsel is some of the best I have ever received. However, putting up with his...quirks...can be difficult at times. I wish he would not have made this so complicated.”
The Ultra nodded. “As do I. However, I will probably be able to get through to them eventually. At the very least, they will not become violent.” The Ultra sighed heavily. “As for the Minor, however...I am most worried.”
Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind. Where was the Minor? He had been ordered to remain at the entrance! The Ultra stopped and turned to look behind him, suddenly paranoid, as if expecting to see the hulking red form sneaking up on him.
Celestia raised an eyebrow at this reaction but did not speak. “Celestia...do you know where the Minor is? I ordered him to remain at the door...”
Celestia smiled slightly. “I’m afraid I am to blame for that, Ultra. I sent him back to the throne room and informed my guards he would be coming. I doubted seeing him would improve your mood. You needed an environment free of stress.”
The Ultra paused at that, considering what she had said and done. “Thank you, Princess,” he finally said. “You are both kind and wise. I am glad you took that course of action. I am not looking forward to our...discussion.”
Celestia gave the Ultra another curious look. “He and I...have a history,” the Ultra continued. “And not exactly a pleasant one. He is one of the more zealous Elites I have commanded. He will protest my words. And...he could become violent. I will be able to handle him, should that be the case, but he may have to be...dispatched.”
Celestia frowned again. “I trust you will do what you must to keep everypony safe. I can only hope your comrades will remain peaceful.”
The two of them rounded a corner. “We can only hope...” the Ultra agreed as a pair of double doors came into view.
The doors slowly creaked open, and the Ultra had to shield his eyes from the sudden blast of bright daylight shining through the stained glass windows. After taking an involuntary step back, the Ultra finally recovered and stepped back into the throne room. Ruefully, he noted that if he was still wearing his helmet he would not have had this problem. Oh well.
Gazing about the room, he was rather amused by what he saw. Pip-Pap and Bok, armed with their plasma pistol and focus rifle respectively, stood in one corner of the room casting wary glances at a platoon of four unicorn guards with spears, who responded in kind. The Minor stood closer to the center of the room, surrounded by no less than six pegasus guards, all also wielding spears, who all seemed eager to keep some distance from the tall alien.
Upon entering, his three comrades looked relieved and relaxed visibly. Every pony present stiffened and threw a salute in Celestia’s direction. “At ease,” Celestia’s melodious voice rang out. “Guards, you may leave us.” The guards all nodded in compliance and opened the large doors. The six pegasi and two of the unicorns stepped out, leaving two unicorn guards remaining in the room. They promptly took up a position on either side of the massive doors and magically shut them with a soft *thud.*
The Ultra nodded to Bok and Pip-Pap as he strode over to them. “I trust there has been no trouble?” Both smaller aliens nodded. “Good. Prepare yourselves, my comrades, for what I learned beyond those doors has shaken me to my very core.” The two aliens shared an uneasy glance before slowly nodding again, this time with no small measure of trepidation.
The Ultra turned to the Minor. “And you,” he said calmly, his voice devoid of inflection. “Why did you not remain by the door as I instructed?”
The Minor snorted. “The Princess suggested I return to the throne room. I remained by the door until she arrived. I decided to follow her orders as a sign of appeasement.”
The Ultra nodded slowly. “Very well. I suppose there was no harm done.” The Ultra turned to face Celestia, who had returned to her throne, but the Minor spoke again.
“Ultra, where is your helmet?”
The Ultra tensed as he remembered where he had left it. “...I must have dropped it,” he replied.
“Actually...” Celestia spoke up. From somewhere behind her the Ultra’s helmet floated out. “I have it right here.” The aliens, including the Ultra, looked up in surprise as the helmet moved towards the Ultra and dropped into his shocked grasp.
“How...?” was all he managed.
Celestia simply smiled. “I’m afraid you dropped it. I am just returning what belongs to you.”
“Thank you, Your Highness...” he muttered absent-mindedly as he continued to stare at the headdress he was once so proud to bear. But now...it only served as a reminder of his crimes.
However, the Princess, it seemed, was expecting him to put it on. “Well?” she asked expectantly.
The Ultra stared at it for a moment or two more before making up his mind. “Celestia, I thank you for returning this to me. However, if it is all the same to you, I no longer wish to wear this. It would only serve to remind me of my sin.”
Celestia’s expectant grin widened. “I think that is a wonderful choice, Ultra,” she said simply. The Ultra replied with just a simple nod. One being in the room, however, deemed it fit to voice his confusion.
“What is this madness you speak of, Ultra? What sickness has poisoned your mind? That is a symbol of your honor! Of your rank! How can you turn your back on it?” the Minor questioned, his voice growing angrier as he continued, his hand hovering over the energy sword on his side
The Ultra sadly turned to face his comrades. “My brothers...” he began. “What was revealed to me in the chamber is a truth so shocking I have yet to come to terms with it. I know not how to tell you in a manner that will make it easy for you...”
“Spit it out already, Ultra,” the Minor interrupted impatiently. “What could possibly have done this to you?”
“Very well. First of all, it may interest you to know that the Glory Upon Salvation is currently in orbit around this planet...and that it is still transmitting.”
His comrades’ eyes lit up in joy at this news. “You mean...our ship is here?” the Minor asked. The Ultra nodded in response. “Then what are we waiting for? We must return to it at once! We must make contact! We must return to the Great Journey!”
The Ultra held up a hand for quiet. “Yes, Minor. As soon as we are finished here that will be our primary objective. However...there is more that was said. Much more...” He paused, debating the best way to proceed.
The Minor rudely cleared his throat. “Yes?”
The Ultra locked his sad gaze with the Minor’s furious one and deciding to just go for it. “The truth...is that our entire lives have been a lie.”
The silence in the room was pressing. One could hear the smallest of sounds. For several long moments, nobody moved. “...This is an outrageous statement to make,” the Minor said slowly. “What proof do you have to support this claim?”
The Ultra looked to Celestia, simply to see what she might have to offer. To his great surprise, she smiled and nodded. It was almost as if she knew what he was about to do. *Which, the Ultra mused, *she probably does. “Allow me to show you.”
Turning his helmet over, the Ultra accessed its databanks, pulling up the section of the past hour or so that he desired. Pressing a few more buttons, the Ultra pointed the helmet at the wall, which was quickly illuminated by a large picture. He heard a soft, surprised gasp from Celestia. Undoubtedly such technology was still a surprise to even her. Even the two guards could not repress their interest. The Covenant, of course, were used to this display technology, but recoiled for a different reason.
The picture was of the Custodian, clearly a large and very ancient oracle.
“By the Gods...” the Minor muttered softly.
“This,” the Ultra began. “Is what awaited me in the chamber. And what revealed the truth to me.”
“What is this truth that you continually speak of, brother?” the Minor asked reverently. “Is it a path to the Great Journey?”
The Ultra considered the question. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”
“Well? Tell us! Let us begin at once!” the Minor replied enthusiastically. Bok and Pip-Pap also looked excited to hear what the Ultra had to say. It pained him to know how badly he was about to let them down.
“Do you not remember what I just said? The Prophets have lied to us. The Humans are not our enemies...they are actually the Reclaimers. The chosen ones of the gods. It is they that will lead us to our salvation.”
Silence again. Although this time, the air was laced with veins of hostility. All of the other aliens tensed at the news, slowly attempting to process what was surely some cruel joke. Bok began to pace back and forth, nervously loosening and tightening his grip on his rifle in quick succession. Pip-Pap seemed unsure of himself, shifting his glance from the screen to the Ultra and then back to the screen.
As for the Minor, one could practically feel the anger washing off of him in waves. He did not move, but his breathing had quickened, and his muscles were continuously tensing and untensing. After a long while, he finally spoke in a soft, deep voice. *“That is impossible.”
*“So too thought I until the truth was waved before my very eyes,” the Ultra responded. *“Let me show you.” Quickly, he began to work his helmet controls again, eager to find the segment he desired.
*“No,” the Minor suddenly said, taking an aggressive step towards the Ultra. *“No!” he repeated, more vehemently this time. *“I do not want to see!” he shouted. *“I refuse to fall under the same spell as you, you weak-minded fool! I alone shall see the truth! I alone shall walk the path to the Great Journey, while you, in your weakness and betrayal, shall be left behind!” he vehemently proclaimed, his voice echoing off of the walls.
The Ultra bristled at the insults but tried to maintain an air of indifference. *“Minor, please,” he consoled. *“Let me show you what I have seen. You too will see the truth. We do not have to live this way forever! There is hope!”
*“NO!” the Minor shrieked. *“I will die before I follow you into madness! No more do I bow to your pathetic leadership! I challenge you, Ninshin, to a Varshna! We shall settle our dispute once and for all! By my honorable blood do I fight!” Quick as a flash, the Minor had activated his energy sword. He tensed his body, prepared to enter combat at a moment’s notice.
The Ultra felt his heart sink. This was not how he wished this encounter to pan out at all. Glancing quickly at Celestia, he saw the grimness and displeasure in her features. However, her words remained in his head. “I trust you will do what you must to keep everypony safe.” No longer could the Minor act without consequence. In his rage and blindness, he was now a threat to every being in the room. He would have to be dealt with.
The Ultra stared at the hilt of his own energy sword, then back up at the challenger. If the Minor wanted a fight to the death...then he’d get a fight to the death. He had slighted his honor for the final time. The last thing anyone of any species wanted to do was challenge a Sangheili warrior who has nothing to lose. The Ultra slowly activated his blade and rose to his full height, leveling the blade at the younger warrior’s face.
The Minor, the officer saw, visibly grinned, and with what could only be described as pure hatred in his eyes. They started to circle each other like two large cats, one step from the Minor was mirrored by the Ultra. They kept this up for a few seconds until the Minor’s patience wore thin. He struck out with his sword in a wide arc from the side, testing the Ultra’s perimeter. The larger Elite simply twisted his wrist and deflected the blade with his own.
*“Minor. This will not end well for you. I have come to terms with my sins, and I hoped you would’ve listened to me at least once in your life. I have turned against the war and the lies; I am trying to give in to peace and happiness. This is your last chance. Turn off your blade. We can learn from this species, and educate our own-”
*“LIES! ALL YOU SPEAK ARE LIES! Heretic! You will burn in the fury of a thousand suns!”
*“Minor-” The Ultra was interrupted by a sudden charge from the overzealous youngling, whose sword was reaching out to the Ultra.
The Ultra was quick to sidestep the incoming blow, and to retaliate with his own lunge to the Minor’s side. The red menace spun around quickly and jumped back, eager to get more space between him and the higher ranking officer. The Ultra did not stop with the lunge, however, he kept running to the Minor and delivered a swift backhand slash. The Minor ducked and rolled to the side. He then pounced onto the Ultra, and connected his fist with the side of his unprotected face. The Ultra stabbed with his sword, but the effort was for naught as the Minor was already on his feet five meters away.
The Ultra got up warily, shaking off the pain and the haze from the punch, and eyed his nemesis carefully. The Minor’s speed and strength so far were a bit unexpected. *It would seem he’s been holding back on me... Suddenly, there was a flash of movement in his peripherals. What he saw next sent a jolt of horror through his heart.
One of the Royal Guards had stepped between them.
“That’s enough!” he shouted. “There will be no fighting in the Royal Chamb-AAAAAUUUGGH!” The guard’s eyes went wide as he suddenly released a heart-wrenching scream of pain.
“It is not your place to interfere, foul Ninshin!” the Minor bellowed as he lunged forward, plunging his blade deep into the defenseless guard’s left side. With a sickening squelch, the two tips emerged on the other side, blood spilling from the wounds and collecting on the floor, while most of it sizzled and evaporated on the blade’s radiating energy. Bringing the pony’s terrified face to his own, even as the light slowly faded from his eyes, the Minor spoke again. “My face will be the last thing you ever see.” He opened his jaws wide and roared into the dying pony’s face.
“Too late do you learn your place!” And with that, the Minor slammed the body into the floor, dislodging it and sending it sliding across the tiled surface, a trail of red in its wake.
“Watchful Eye!” Celestia screamed in terror, instantly rising to her hooves and rushing to the fallen guard’s side. The Ultra knew that it was too late, however. He felt uncontrollable anger course through him as he turned back to the Minor, who was smiling evilly.
“You...you belligerent FOOL!” the Ultra bellowed. “How DARE you murder a member of a peaceful race in such cold blood! Have you no shred of honor left?! I will rend your head from your shoulders!”
The Minor’s evil grin widened as Celestia sobbed in the background. “Don’t act so surprised, Ultra. It’s not really that hard. After all, I already had practice.”
The Ultra’s eyes widened in shock as the Minor’s words slowly sank in. “You...you! You murdered that squad! That is why you would not respond to me! Timberwolves indeed!”
The Minor chuckled. “At last you figure it out. You were always so slow, Ultra.”
“By the Gods! YOU! WILL! DIE!” the Ultra screamed in rage. He lowered his head and charged headlong at the Minor, bellowing a war cry the whole way. He swung his blade in a mighty arc, hissing through the air, before the two blades crashed together in a blinding explosion of light and a terrible screeching noise.
The two remained locked in combat for a few moments, each trying to shove the other off. At long last, they both backed off, panting heavily from exertion before plunging back into combat.
The time for words was over. Soon, one of them would die.
The Ultra struck first, swinging the blade in a level arc at the Minor’s midsection. His enemy parried the blow, deflecting its momentum away from him, causing the Ultra to stumble. Spinning out of the parry he swung his sword in an overhead fashion, aiming for the Ultra’s neck during his moment of vulnerability.
The Ultra quickly ducked however, and felt the heat of the blade hiss directly over his head. *That was close... With his sword still in a bad position, the Ultra kicked out, connecting solidly with the Minor’s body and sending him crashing into the nearest wall. Spinning to his feet, the Ultra leapt after the shell-shocked Minor, his sword humming towards his opponent’s head.
The Minor regained his senses just soon enough to block the Ultra’s blow with a deafening hiss, but the impact drove the air from his lungs, and the Ultra pressed his advantage. Towering over his opponent, their blades locked in combat, the Ultra slowly forced the Minor to his knees, the blades hovering dangerously over his head.
The Minor struggled to release himself from the Ultra’s hold, but gravity was against him. Slowly, ever so slowly, the locked blades began to descend towards the left side of his face. His eyes widened in fear as he began to feel the heat.
“Now, Minor...” the Ultra grunted out. “You die...”
With a final burst of effort from his part, the edge of a blade finally made contact with the Minor’s face. His flesh hissed and boiled at the contact, slowly peeling and burning away from the white-hot blade. His bellow of pain filled the room as the gash in his flesh continually deepened.
However, the Ultra failed to see the Minor readjust his left leg, and was surprised when his legs were suddenly taken out from underneath him by a low sweep. Grunting in pain, the Minor shoved him off. The Ultra quickly rolled away and stood back up, crouching into a combat-ready stance. Just in time too, for the Minor was back on the assault.
Time seemed to slow down as he approached. The Ultra took in every detail. The blade held firmly in his grasp. His twisted mandibles parted in a roar of anger. The fresh, blazing red scar lashed across his face. A few rivulets of blood, both of his own and of the pony’s, splattered across his chest armor. Truly, he was an incarnation of wrath, barreling down on him without pity or remorse.
Time returned to normal as the Minor’s blade crashed into his own with an unexpected force. The Ultra took a step back. The blade came crashing down again, this time at a different angle.
Another step back.
The Minor continued his furious onslaught, his rage now completely fueling his actions. The Ultra could do nothing but defend himself, blocking each and every stroke that fell with seemingly increasing force. The younger Minor seemed inexhaustible. More and more did the Ultra retreat before the Minor’s whizzing blade, his entire concentration being used to keep himself alive. To the onlookers, all they could see in the slowly darkening room was the bright flash of rapidly moving lights.
All they could hear was the repeated squeals and crashing of the blades.
But the Ultra knew he had one advantage. The Minor’s technique was firm for now, but eventually his rage would leave him open. The Ultra only hoped he would last until that chance presented itself.
The Ultra groaned in pain as one final blow fell upon his sword. He felt his strength beginning to give out. Slowly, step by step, he backed up under the unrelenting pressure. Suddenly, he felt his back make contact with the wall. He was trapped.
He had nowhere to go.
And then, all of a sudden, there was a searing pain in his right side. “Aaaaaarrrggh!” the Ultra shouted in agony. Looking down, he was shocked beyond belief to see that the Minor had buried his wrist blade into his own flesh.
The Ultra slowly turned to face the Minor, utter fury in his eyes. “I see...so this is how you choose to end. By drawing a second blade in a Varshna. How dishonorable.”
The Minor simply grinned. “To the victor go the spoils.” The pressure on the Ultra’s blade became almost unbearable, and the weakness in his side was not helping.
“Indeed,” the Ultra replied. Thinking quickly, he tilted his wrist, causing the Minor’s blade to slide off his, effectively parrying the blow away. The Minor, realizing this, sensed his victory was close. The Ultra no longer had the endurance to fend off his blows by pure strength alone. Roaring his triumph, he brought his blade about for one final blow, the Ultra’s still moving away due to his previous block.
It was then that the Ultra saw his opening.
Roaring in pain, through sheer force of will the Ultra managed to reverse the direction his sword was moving in, and swung it upwards as quickly as he could.
The blade hummed through the air. The Minor’s eyes widened in surprise.
Never before had the Ultra moved so quickly. His opportunity was small. He simply had to land this blow. He had to. Everything depended on it. Slowly, the blade crept towards the Minor’s sword hand, which was rapidly moving out of the blade’s arc. Was he fast enough? Would his final blow fall?
It barely made it. The Ultra felt the very tip of his blade graze the Minor’s middle fingertip; his longest one. The tip came clean off. Howling in pain and surprise, the Minor’s damaged hand was no longer able to maintain its grip on his own rapidly moving blade. It spun out of his grasp, deactivating as it did so, and flew off into the distance, clattering against the ground.
The Minor withdrew his wrist blade from the Ultra’s side and stumbled backwards, clutching his hand. So distracted and surprised was he that he failed to realize the fist rapidly inbound on his face.
*CRUNCH*
*BANG*
The Ultra thought his knuckles cracked from the blow. Never before had he hit something so hard. His fist fell directly on the Minor’s left side of his face. Right where his fresh scar was. His shield promptly exploded with a deafening crack of electrical overload. The Minor cried out in pain and rage again and fell to the floor, defeated. The Ultra was on top of him in a flash, his blade pointed directly at the Minor’s throat, his right foot pinning the Minor’s left arm with the wrist blade attached, his left knee on the downed Elite’s chest.
“And now...” the Ultra gasped between heaving breaths. “You will pay...for your insolence...”
He raised his blade.
The Minor stared his death in the face. He was no coward.
The blade began to fall.
The Minor did not even blink.
“NO!” the sudden voice cut through the silence. The Ultra’s eyes widened in surprise as he felt another force intervene. Suddenly, he was thrown from the Minor’s body and hurled into a nearby wall. The Minor slowly blinked in surprise and turned to face his savior.
And then promptly wished that he hadn’t.
Never before had the Minor beheld such a terrifying sight. Where before, the Princess of the Sun had been regal and graceful, now she was a figure of raw power and rage. Her skin was now a dark charcoal black, with jagged yellow lines criss-crossing randomly over her body. Her mane and tail were literally a blazing inferno, the orange and yellow flames flickering wildly about her form, eager to consume all that opposed her.
And then her eyes. No more were the gentle magenta eyes that had regarded them serenely. In their place were blood-red fiery pits. As the Minor stared into the ravaging, fiery darkness, he knew that his end had come.
He knew there was no escape.
He felt a force surround his body and lift him off of the ground. From the corner of his eye, he could see the Ultra slowly stagger to his feet, gripping his side, and gaze at the scene before him with awe and no small amount of fear.
“CREATURE OF UNIMAGINABLE CRUELTY AND MALICE, OF WHICH THOU ARE NO LONGER WORTHY OF NAME,” an extremely loud voice boomed through the expansive throne room.
“WE, THE SOVEREIGN PROTECTOR OF THESE LANDS, FIND THOU GUILTY OF CRIMES MOST FOUL AND UNNATURAL AGAINST PONYKIND...” the voice continued, undoubtedly emerging from the terrifying form before him.
“AND AS SUCH, DO CONDEMN THOU TO THY DOOM! FEAR ME, FOUL CREATURE, FOR THERE IS NO ESCAPE FOR THE SUFFERING THAT IS TO BEFALL THOU.” The ex-Princess slowly began to lift into the air as well, her charcoal-black horn glowing with pure yellow energy.
“TARTARUS AWAITS THY SOUL! THINE! END! IS! NIGH!”
And with that ultimate statement, there was a blinding flash of light, and the Minor disappeared from existence.