//------------------------------//
// Bonus Chapter:The God Slayer 
// Story: War of the Fallen Race 
// by PegasusKlondike 
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Weeks passed, intelligence was gathered that the creatures of The Surge were gathering at a remote mountain. The same intelligence told them that the mountain itself was the origin point of The Surges. With its backbone broken, the crippled U.S. Army began to seek desperately for new recruits to fill out the empty spaces in its ranks. Some came to the base as refugees seeking safety, only to have guns thrust into their hands and be sent back out to fight.

Others were not so willing, everyday patrols would seek out places that had not been threatened by the war. And everyday they brought back men and women torn screaming from their families. Men with grayed beards who had seen a lifetime of love and hope were thrust into the same units as young men who had yet to dance with a girl. None who could fight were spared, only the elderly, the infirmed and those too young to understand why their families were being dragged away were left behind.

There was no homefront, there was only the next field of battle. This is the point ponykind recalls as the darkest days of the War. The days where every innocent and hopeful were trained to become true monsters, to choose hate and ignorance over love and tolerance. The days when mankind truly became the demons everypony knows. Nobody called it Fort Greenewell anymore, now it was referred to as Stronghold, the last  bastion of human power. Stronghold was the gathering point, and the jump point for various operations and raids meant to keep enemy presence from becoming too much of a threat in the immediate area.

Another scout mission for the army troops, the newly crowned Sergeant Salazar had finally overcome his fear of the enemy and thusly volunteered for this latest "recruitment drive". Target, a small town about one hundred clicks due south from Stronghold. Black operations scouts reported little enemy movement in the area, and a ripe and healthy population of soon to be soldiers. There was only one small test a new recruit had to pass, they could not be sick in any way that was communicable. One single person that showed signs of one of those incurable influenza viruses or that dreadful new mutation of scarlet fever and the entire army could be infected in days. It was for this reason why many towns had to go overlooked and normally bountiful populations of possible recruits had to be turned back.

The drive there was tense, moving into uncleared territory was always that way. Besides basic light Humvees for transport of individual squads, the convoy boasted a small fleet of APCs and two Apache gunships for aerial cover. 

"Sergeant sir. I got a bad feeling about this one." Private Carter intoned.

"You always have bad feelings about these recruitment drives you chicken shit. Last time it was, "I don't feel so good about this one Sarge" and we had the best haul of the week! If I remember correctly, we had to leave half of us behind and still make two trips! Hows that for "bad feeling" Carter?"

"Hey Sarge, how about that one "downed phoneline" that got your buddy skewered through the throat?" Carter snickered to himself, only to notice that every soldier in the vehicle was giving him a death glare. 

Hours passed with every man resisting the urge to push Carter into a ditch for the timber wolves. The Apaches stayed generally out of sight, but could always be quickly summoned with a short radio signal. Dusk was falling, while the gunships would have no problem with infrared sensors, ground forces were blind except for omega detectors. Even if they didn't have problems seeing after dark, the Apache pilots refused to fly after sundown. The sky became a dangerous place after dark, almost more so than  the ground. "Should have left base earlier, we are gonna have to find a defensible position and bivouac."

The soldier on gunner position slammed his hand on the roof of the Humvee. "Sir! Target spotted ahead! Less than 2 clicks."

"Maybe they'll let us crash for the night, then we haul them off in the morning. Corporal Manas, radio the empty trucks to pull off the road and have the drivers all come in one vehicle, keep suspicions down."

The convoy pulled up to the town, like all the others they had raided it had a massive wall of just about anything that could be scrapped, like in some post apocalypse movie. A rough guard tower with a bell stood at the entrance, a solemn looking man who had the look of an aged farmer manned the post, other than that, the area seemed dead. Salazar exited the Humvee and walked to the head of the stationary convoy. He hailed the solitary watchman, who wielded a shotgun and a tin of chew.

"Sir! We are with the United States Army! We are far from our base and need to refuel and find shelter for the evening."

The old man gave a nearly toothless scowl, "Whats yorn business 'round here? Ain't no trouble in these parts. 'Cept the kind of trouble we been gettin from you folks." He spat a wad of tobacco at his mention of the Army. 

"That information is classified! Let me speak to whoever is in charge."

"The Lord God is in charge 'round here."

Salazar grimaced, "Then let me speak to his subordinate."

"Pastor Jim is busy wit' a sermon, if y'all want to wait, fine by me."

"Open the gate or we will have our helicopters come and burn down your entire damn town! You have one minute to comply!" 

"Hold your goddamned horses sonny! It ain't mah decision ta make! I'll go git the pastor and see what we can do."

"Alright, make it quick old man!" 

The old man climbed awkwardly down from his post at the gate and shuffled towards the center of town. The only lights were oil lamps coming from the small, whitewashed church that seemed to emanate small town charm. Voices gently sang hymns from the inside and the organ played softly. Being careful not to disturb anyone, the old man entered as silently as possible. Laying his gun aside at the door, the gatekeeper shuffled down the aisle to the pulpit where the preacher led the sermon. "Pastor Jim, we got visitors at the front gate. Claimin ta be from the Army!"

"Perfect, let them in." He turned from the gatekeeper to his flock. "Let us rejoice! For the Lord has sent us new converts to be made this night! Let us go forth to welcome them to our humble home."


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It had been at least ten minutes, Salazar was hoping the helicopter bluff was enough, even though they had both turned back and were now grounded for the night. The old man reappeared at his post, "All right ya whipper snappers, don't cause eny trouble and we won't have a quarrel. Imma lettin ya in."

The gate began to slowly grind its way open, beyond was a crowd of people, all dressed in their Sunday finest. At their front was a slightly overweight man, tall with brown hair that was graying at the temples. He also wore the collar of a priest, denoting him as Pastor Jim. Salazar stepped in to talk with the local leader, noting that he had a too friendly face. Shame he would get drafted at first light. 

"I'm Sergeant Juan Salazar with the United States Army, my convoy and I were out on patrol when we got separated from our main battalion. We need shelter for the night and possibly some supplies and fuel." A simple and acceptable lie, these fools would never suspect a thing. 

"Our home is your home, Mr. Salazar. Won't you and your companions come in from the dangers of night?"

Salazar got on his personal transmitter,"All units cleared to enter."

The convoy trundled in, minus the hidden trucks. 

"The night is young yet, we have just finished our evening sermon sergeant, and we would love for you to attend a banquet in honor of the blessings of The Lord."

"I'm not so sure about that Padre, we have our own food and need to bed down for the night."

Several of the other soldiers had joined them, Private Carter pulled close to the sergeant.

"Aw, come on Sarge, all we've had for the past three months is freeze dried crap and that gryphon we shot last week. Besides, there's nothing like a little small town cookin'." he said with a little smile, eyeing some of the nubile young women in the crowd.

"For once he makes a good argument Sarge."

Salazar sighed in acquiescence, "Fine, but if you do something stupid, I'm not stopping these people from lynching you." 


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The soldiers set up a camp separate from the main body of the village, they were allowed to take off body armor, but guns were locked in the Humvees. Each man was ordered to keep his sidearm on him at all times, and to keep fucking quiet about what they had been doing for the past few weeks romping around the countryside. 

The banquet took place in the town hall, a surprisingly large building that hadn't seen much use except for these banquets. A large table sat in the center, large enough for the entire town to sit at with room to spare, at the head sat none other than Pastor Jim. The table fare tempted the beleaguered troops with heaping plates of steaks, ribs and other meats. Gigantic bowls full of mashed potatoes interspersed by boats of gravy and mountains of rolls. Pies of every different sort sat cooling in a makeshift kitchen. "God bless small town America." Salazar said. Before the soldiers could dig in to the first real food in months, Pastor Jim interrupted.

"I would like to say a prayer. Dear Lord, bless us in this our time of need. For we your children need to be shown the true path in these black days. We thank you oh Lord for sending us your Son to lead us not into temptation, but to bliss. Bless your heavenly paw and all those who look upon it. Bless this food and the hands that prepared it, amen." 

Wait, paw? Must have been a slip up.

The feast began, too much home cooking to possibly pass up.

Pastor Jim was not partaking in the feast, he watched the newcomers with strange intent. He motioned over one of the townswomen and whispered something to her. She nodded, walking over to a group of young women she relayed the pastor's message. They giggled like horny schoolgirls, and each one took to caressing the shoulders of a soldier. Carter was obviously in heaven, chomping down rare steak while getting a neck massage from a pretty girl. Salazar on the other hand was suspicious. He reached to take a drink from his cup when he saw something fizzling in it. He spilled the cup on the floor, sure enough there was a fine white slurry at the bottom of his cup. He stood, grabbing Corporal Manas' shoulder, "Corporal we need to get the hell out of here. Corporal?" Manas had already slipped into a drugged stupor.

"All units defensive! This is a set up!"

What few soldiers that weren't drugged had knives to their throats. Clever bastards had seen them coming a mile away. 

Pastor Jim rose and walked to the captured sergeant.

"Well Sergeant, I was hoping you would take to our hospitality a little more warmly. It looks like the feast will have to begin a couple of hours sooner than expected."

"What the fuck do you mean you old psycho? I thought this was the feast."

"On the contrary, YOU are the feast Sergeant. And soon you will be meeting God in the flesh."


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Out in the humvee, an omega detector began to blip. What few soldiers that were left to guard the camp were too distracted by the townswomen's "hospitality" to notice. Neither did they notice the prick of needles as they were injected with anesthesia. 

The crazed masses dragged Sergeant Salazar and his company to a large clearing near the edge of the forest on the outskirts of town. Bones littered the ground, scattered like scraps from a meal. Salazar thought the wall went all the way around the town, but it just stopped at either side of the clearing, leaving a huge gap. 

The pastor stood at the opening and began to shout, "Oh All Mighty God, we humbly bring you these men as sacrifices to your holiness! These men who hunt your brothers and forsake you The Almighty!"

Something was moving in the trees, something huge. At first Salazar believed it to be a dragon, but dragons moved with some grace, this thing lumbered like it hardly cared. Tree branches cracked and snapped as the thing got closer.

"We your humble servants give you the flesh of man to feast upon tonight. Praise be to the Lord, PRAISE BE TO THE MIGHTY URSA MAJOR!"

The monster's  head entered the flickering torchlight at the opening in the wall, it was a bear. A bear easily as big as a tank. That  was not the only thing that stood out, its fur was blue and it had a shining star pattern running the length of its titanic body. And these whack-jobs worshiped it as a god, small wonder. The townsfolk forced the soldiers to their knees, and then backed away. The Ursa came close, smelling each person, wondering which was the best appetizer. A hot torrent of breath that smelled like decay came forth as the Ursa smelled Salazar. He closed his eyes, praying to a god he knew to be more merciful. 

Thankfully, it passed over him, for the minute. Instead, it stopped at Carter, still swooning and laughing from the drug. The great bear growled, and opening it's mighty jaws bit off Carter's head. His severed neck body sprayed blood onto the Ursa's face, then fell to the ground lifeless. Seizing opportunity, Salazar reached into his boot and pulled out his knife, cutting his bonds with it. He sprang from the ground and seized a torch that had been planted in the dirt. He jumped in front of the great bear, who had decided on his second course, and shoved the torch in its face.

The bear roared in pain and rage, rearing back to swipe at embers that clung to it's eyes. Blinded by fire and driven by rage, the Ursa began to attack anything that got near, even the cultists. In the ensuing chaos, Salazar freed his troops, those who could still walk had to carry the unconscious. "Get back to camp and get the guns! I'll deal with this thing!" 

As soon as he said that, he realized he had nothing more than a boot knife and a torch at his disposal. He looked at the ramshackle wall and a plan formed. Spearing the torch into the ground, Salazar put the knife in his teeth and began to climb the wall. Behind him the Ursa still thrashed, trying to destroy the tiny morsel that had blinded it. Salazar stood at the top of the wall, turned and jumped. 

Grabbing onto the blue fur of the monster's back, Salazar began to claw his way towards its head. Feeling something on it, the Ursa twisted and clawed to try and remove the pest. Reaching his goal, Salazar pulled the knife from his teeth and began to stab violently into the back of the Ursa's head. Deep red blood sprayed from the wound, but he continued his furious attack while the beast roared and screamed, standing on hind legs and fighting to kill the sergeant. Finally he struck bone, and Salazar lifted his knife above his head and with a shout thrust it in between the spinal cord and the monster's skull.

It stopped fighting back, and began to sway and rock, moaning its death bawl. The great bear collapsed, throwing the blood coated human off into the grass. The villagers cried at the loss of their god.

"What have you done you fool!!"

Salazar stood, wiping the blood from his eyes."Killed your god you psychotic son of a bitch."

"You fool! That was not The Father, but The Heavenly Son! You killed the Ursa Minor!"

"Ursa...Minor....?"

"A mere child in the manner of The Lord! And now we will suffer His wrath!"

An earth shaking roar split the night, whatever this new thing was, it was taking down entire trees as it charged towards the clearing. 

Salazar did not stay to find out what this one was. He ran for the convoy, encountering no resistance along the way. Reaching the camp, he barked orders to his troops.

"Everyone load up, we are getting the fuck away from here! Radio Stronghold and tell them this place is Surge central!"

Engines roared to life, the entire convoy took off for the gate in no particular order, ramming through the pitiful excuse for a gate. Looking back, Sergeant Salazar saw the gatekeeper put a shotgun to his chin, then splatter his brains all over his guard post. Further back, something pink stood on its hind legs taller than the church. The Ursa Major. It was too occupied with destroying the town of cultists to give chase to the fleeing humans. 

"Stronghold, this is Sergeant Salazar, heavy casualties taken, mission aborted. Highly advise carpet bombing of town and surrounding forest."

"Salazar this is Stronghold, that is affirmative, bombs will drop first thing tomorrow morning when the skies clear."


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Writer's block sucks,originally I had this chapter panned out to be Patterson designing and then being possessed by a weapon which corrupts magic. But I almost had to get a psych evaluation for how extremely dark and gorey it turned out to be. Plus it didn't fit well with my overall plan. It still had the title The God Slayer  but involved more emotional and spiritual aspects than I had anticipated. The way it worked out would not have gone smoothly into the next parts of the story. I could have skipped over it completely and gone straight to the final battle. But I felt more had to be done first. So here I got bored and decided to give you a misadventure of a company of troops out forcefully recruiting. Hell, it could have been its own stand alone story had I replaced the soldiers with ponies.