Celestia groaned painfully. Her throat felt raw from screaming orders over the thunder. Her ears still hurt from the deafening bangs that had filled the air. Peeling open her eyes she was still seeing multi-coloured dots swimming around in her field of vision.
The alicorn had to blink hard a few times before her blurry vision focused. As it came slowly, she was beginning to remember what had happened in the woods. It could have only happened moments ago, but with every muscle in her body screaming in agony it felt like she had been running for hours.
It hadn’t been her choice to fleet. It had been the sergeant’s orders. An unknown hostile had the high ground, and they were trapped under a rain of high velocity projectiles. Celestia had lit up the ridge with magical fire, but the angle of attack merely shifted. Their attacker had ruled the high ground and didn’t stop moving from one concealed location to another.
Then ponies started dying.
That was when the sergeant told Celestia to run, quoting all sorts regulations and authority overrides to her face. Before he eventually threatened to buck her lights out if she didn’t get herself out of the killzone.
So Celestia had run. Though not with the purpose of escaping. She had removed herself from the combat zone only to double back and flank wide with the hope of getting eyes on the attacker.
Her flanking manoeuvre had ended in a deafening bang and a flash of light as bright as the sun, followed by something heavy hitting her hard enough in the mouth for her to taste blood in the precious moments of sobriety before slipping into unconsciousness.
Waking up, Celestia lifted her head from the cold floor, squinting as she looked around.
The first thing she saw were bars.
Golden shimmering bars of light; they reminded her of the glow of her magic. Wavering yet solid, she eyed the bars slowly realising they surrounded. Vertical and horizontal support beams enveloping her in a perfect cube.
A cage of magic.
Forcing herself to her hooves, the princess shook out her mane a little. She noticed there wasn’t a metal clink of her regalia, and looking down she saw her royal jewels were missing. From her tiara to her golden slippers she’d been stripped down, her mane no longer billowing with all the colours of summer. Her bright pink mane and tail drooped sadly in frizzy waves.
A little impatiently she snapped her gaze up again, the rest of the room beyond her cage sharpening into focus. She made out the muddy floor, wooden ceiling and stone walls. The place smelled of rot and death. And then she saw the source of the smell.
Parts. Some from ponies. Others from other creatures she couldn’t identify in the murky mess that littered the shelves and worktops. It was like looking at a grizzly surgery, but the surgeon was a madman. That meant this lab could belong to none other than Grogar. There was barely a doubt.
That was when some motion caught her eye. Snapping her gaze around, Celestia locked eyes with a pegasus stallion stumbling through the murk of Grogar’s workshop. The tarnished golden armour and the ruffled mane were hard to mistake. Few could tell the royal guardsponies apart, but after centuries of having them guard her life she had gained a knack for it.
“Sergeant!” the princess cried as she scrambled closer to the bars of her cage.
As she did, a jolt of golden energy sprang from the nearest bar and zapped her on the nose. The mare yelped, hopping back and rubbing the small smoking scorchmark before blinking away tears and looking at Sergeant Ironwing.
The pegasus didn’t answer her. He didn’t even acknowledge her. He just stared right through her, and soon Celestia figured out why. The sergeant’s body was littered with swollen crimson pockmarks where he’d been riddled with bullets. His eyes were lifeless, mouth hanging open a little as the zombie-pony looked away and shambled off.
More motion caught her attention. Celestia was slower to react to it this time, staring after Ironwing as he limped mindlessly away. With her eyes closed, her chest feeling like it had taken on a bucket of mercury, the alicorn slowly turned to face the new motion.
With a flare of rage she immediately recognised the ram and the creature walking by his side.
The approaching biped wasn’t hard to identify. There was nopony else he could be other than the human, Lieutenant Rourke.
“I could have finished her off on the spot, Grogar,” he said to the ram as they moved up to the edge of the cage. “Why did you stop me? Why waste time with this cage thing?”
Grogar gave a gruff chuckle. “I haven’t seen this alicorn since she was a tiny insignificant filly. Indulge me, please.”
The human shrugged. “Fine.”
Walking to the edge of her cage facing them, Celestia’s expression smouldered with anger. “Grogar? You did this?” she demanded to know with a nod in the direction the echo that was Sergeant Ironwing had moved.
Looking up at the alicorn incredulously the ram nodded as if it should have been obvious. “I did indeed. Though with a little help, I must admit. I’m ashamed to say I never would have thought of making my own corpses rather than relying on those decomposed frames I usually use. I lacked...” – a hoof tapped his bottom lip thoughtfully – “how would you put it? Ambition?”
The princess’ eyes fell shut, squeezing out tears that trickled down her white cheeks.
“Hubris got the better of me.” Celestia’s heart sank. She should have listened to Luna. She should have dealt with Grogar sooner, then none of this would have happened. Then her dear little ponies would still be alive. “I should have sent you straight back to Tartarus the moment I learned you were free.”
Rage suddenly filled her heart as her eyes jerked open again, ablaze with fires flickering in her glistening irises. Her mane caught on an invisible draft, reddening like the sunset skies while curling and fanning like a wildfire.
“A mistake,” the alicorn hissed in a tone that injected terror into even Grogar’s lifeless soul, “I will not make again!”
A surge of adrenaline yanked at Rourke’s limbs. Moving with choreographed precision and speed he snatched his rifle out of its sling and shouldered the weapon. The barrel was mere inches from the wavering bars of Celestia’s cage, levelled directly on her chest. All it would take was three shots.
Double tap to the heart, then a dead-check to the head...
Grogar surprised the lieutenant. With a glow of his magic the necromancer jerked the rifle away to one side. Rourke yanked the weapon back with a frustrated growl, keeping it safely pointed at Celestia’s hooves while glaring at the ram.
“Wait!” Grogar hissed. “Wait…”
The inferno raging around Celestia passed as quickly as it had kindled. Magic bounced off the cage bars, intensifying the magical glow before slowly dissipating into a misty haze. The cage flickered, but it held, absorbing Celestia’s magic as she sparked it.
“Wait for what?” Rourke asked. “To see if this cage works right? ‘Cuz if it don’t we’ll be fucked before we know what went wrong.”
“Nono, I know the cage works. What kind of king would I be without a queen at my side?”
Celestia pulled a disgusted expression, recoiling from the cage bars between her and Grogar. “Are you suggesting I would be your bride, monster!? You’re insane!”
“I agree with the talking horse,” the human agreed with a reasonable tone before Rourke exploded into a shout, adding, “Are you out of your mind!?”
“Hard to be out of something you never had,” giggled the ram a little maniacally with a wide uneven smile plastered over his face. A smile in any context just looked wrong on Grogar’s face. “Besides, if we kill her, who will raise the sun and moon?”
Rourke gaped angrily. He was about to make some kind of argument about Grogar risking the mission just so he could get his freak on. But that comment about needing Celestia to raise the sun and moon completely threw him.
He eventually just threw his arms up in defeat. “… this whole world is fucked up!”
Grogar smirked, growling darkly, “Oh, quit whining. Come, I could use a hand mixing some love poison.”
“What’s that?”
“A speciality brew of mine. Something to make the dear princess a bit more… compliant.” Grogar explained as he started leading the way to his alchemy lab. “I developed it back in the day to overthrow this little nation I had my eyes o-…”
The ram was unexpectedly interrupted by a gasp for air followed by a thunderous sneeze. Even as she watched the human heave before the sneeze, even Celestia jumped from the sudden loud noise.
Frowning, Grogar turned on the spot to see Rourke recover, covering his face with both hands as he sniffed a few times.
“Allergies again?”
“Yeah, your filter spell doesn’t work for shit,” Rourke sniffed. “Do you have a dog around here or something?”
“No… why?”
“Usually that’s all I’m allergic to.”
That was all Rourke managed to say before the ceiling caved in over his head.
Sometime earlier…
Be extremely subtle, even to the point of formlessness. Be extremely mysterious, even to the point of soundlessness. Thereby you can be the director of the opponent’s fate.
Sun Tzu was talking about a number of things, but his primary message with this philosophy was about using subterfuge and stealth to overcome an opponent; even an opponent larger and more powerful than you. For the record; Sun Tzu plagiarised that philosophy.
Since the beginning of time predators had used stealth to overcome a great many obstacles. No matter the prey, with the proper application of stealth predators have torn down the mightiest of creatures. And it was likely by watching this application by predators that Mister Tzu got the idea to apply this philosophy to his own battle-plans.
Bungee was no stranger to stealth. It ran in his blood, much like teamwork. Millennia of instinct – no matter how watered down by domestication – was hard to ignore. Unfortunately, Bungee was alone. He didn’t have a pack to run with. So he had to rely on stealth more than ever.
Especially against the odds laid out before him.
Laying on the ridge overlooking the bowl shape the Everfree Forest seemed to make, only the top of the German Shepherd’s head with his pointed ears were visible. And even then, the drab colours of his fur blended in with the autumn leaves carpeting the dirt. Still, Bungee kept his head low as he observed patiently.
The cold hard facts were as followed;
The low compound below was home to various smells. The smell that interested Bungee was the smell of Lieutenant Rourke. The smell that overpowered the human’s odour and worried the dog was the stench of death.
That stench of death was a visible concern. Bungee counted at least a dozen pale figures wandering the compound’s perimeter. Zombie ponies were on a relaxed patrol pattern. But they were unpredictable. Bungee would have to improvise on the fly if he was going to sneak past.
And that brought him neatly on to the final fact.
He was one dog against who-only-know how many zombie ponies. Stealth was a must. If he was discovered Rourke would either bolt or join with the zombie ponies to murder Bungee in one of a variety of colourful ways.
He would need to stay on top of the situation. Speaking of which…
Bungee felt his eyes drawn to a ridge flanking the compound. It elevated a good few feet above the building’s flat roof of logs. Perched on the ridge seemed to be a tree. Although, what was left of a tree. Possibly blown over in a storm, it had keeled over with the top connecting with the compound’s roof, a massive cluster of roots and dirt torn clean out of the earth leaving a massive crater in the forest floor.
From the ridge to the compound’s roof, Bungee traced an invisible line from his overmatch position to the fallen tree and across to the roof. From there he could find a weak spot and breach right on top of Rourke.
If Bungee were expressive, he would grin. He didn’t care for what happened after he dealt with Rourke. The zombie ponies could do whatever. He would try to stop them, but all that mattered was completing the mission. Ending Rourke.
If Bungee managed that he would be happy. It would be good enough.
Shuffling to his paws, Bungee slipped over the ridge and trotted with his head low down the side of the bowl. He would quietly bound from side to side, dodging and weaving through the sparsely placed trees, pausing only to peer down at the patrolling zombie ponies – and when satisfied they were looking the other way he would continue his approach.
Pausing, Bungee smelled and listened. A mere dozen metres away a zombie pony shuffled through the dead leaves. The clumsy footfalls were impossible to mistake.
Waiting patiently, the dog listened until the sound faded, then peeked around the trunk of the tree he used for cover. Seeing the zombie pony’s back was turned, Bungee galloped from cover and made a swift dash for the ridge with the fallen tree.
Suddenly hearing a shuffle over his quiet pawfalls, the dog felt his heart skip a beat. Rounding a thick tree up ahead was another patrolling zombie. This one was missing a neck, his head screwed clumsily onto his torso and held in place with a few x-shaped plasters. His dead eyes shifted, the pony slowly turning in Bungee’s direction.
The German Shepherd was faster, diving front paws first behind a low tree stump. The stump was large, half dug up – probably by rodents looking for shelter – exposing a maze of roots in the dark earth.
Sliding to a halt on his belly among the roots, Bungee shuffled into one of the larger hollows and peered through the roots. His fur blended into the dirt and leaves, camouflaging him from the zombie pony’s un-alert eyes as he shambled closer. Eyes bright and aware, Bungee lowered his head a little more between his forelegs, like a sheepdog staring to intimidate some livestock.
“Uhn!” a voice grunted.
Neckless halted in his tracks, mere feet from crashing into the stump Bungee used for cover. Turning on the spot, the zombie watched another undead pony limp closer. Tripod wore a smile on the side of her face that was still relatively intact.
“Gruh?” she asked.
Neckless shrugged as best he could without his head falling off. “Whuuuuh,” he agreed, shuffling away from the stump and towards Tripod.
Having an ‘almost’ conversation, the two zombie ponies had their backs turned as Bungee crawled out of the roots, smears of mud and leaves clinging to his coat. He didn’t care; the debris fell off as he swiftly put one paw in front of the other, carrying himself around their blind side and up around the ridge with the fallen tree.
When he’d reached the makeshift bridge connecting the ridge with the compound roof, bungee wasted no time clambering through the brittle roots and onto the log. Within moments he found himself above and out of the zombie patrol’s field of view.
A good two baker’s dozen feet above.
The bark of the fallen tree was slick in the autumn drizzle and it angled downward towards the lower compound roof. Putting one paw forward, Bungee quickly tested his weight on the log. It held, but the pad on his paw slipped a little. His whole body coiled instinctively, digging his nail into the bark to hold himself in place.
His heart was pounding in his chest as Bungee looked down. The world seemed to stretch.
Feet suddenly seemed like miles. Bungee’s whole field of view curved and warped as he took a step back, rear paws touching the comfort of dirt again.
With a deep breath, the dog had to remind himself it was just like the assault courses he’d trained on back home. Of course, this was a little more slippery and quite a bit higher, while surrounded by zombie ponies who could easily mob him… but in essence it was the same.
Thinking of home made him feel safe, even though he knew damn well he wasn’t safe. But that feeling was enough to bury vertigo and push Bungee forward.
His nails dug into the bark as he stubbornly pressed forward. The comfort of the cool dirt was gone. All that held him up was the wet, mouldy log suspended over the forest floor far below. As he moved though, the German Shepherd made mistake of looking down.
This time it wasn’t the distance from the ground that threw him. This time Bungee tried to suddenly freeze as he saw a zombie pony wander underneath the makeshift bridge.
As he did, the dog slipped. His front paws sprawled out one way, rear paws the other way and he fell straight down, chest slamming into the slick surface of the bark. Suppressing a cough and a whimper, Bungee dug his claws into the tree, stopping his fall with just his rear legs and tail dangling in the air right above the zombie pony standing idly below.
Bits of moss and bark drizzled to the forest floor, some landing on the pony’s head. It didn’t seem to notice, dumbly brushing it off and sauntering on with a limp; not thinking to look up at the dog hanging there helplessly for a moment.
Curling his whole body, Bungee managed to dig the nails on his rear paws into the bark and clambered unevenly atop the slick bridge again. Catching his breath, the German Shepherd shuffled onwards, more carefully this time. And when his paws did touch the roof of the compound, Bungee finally let out the breath he’d been holding in relief.
Shaking off the winding blow and the few moments of heart stopping fright, Bungee sniffed the air, weaving slowly forward as he carefully put one paw in front of the other. Compound looked old and felt uneven. The ceiling sagged a little with every step, so he kept his weight spread out as best as he could, moving slowly and smoothly and pausing only when he caught a whiff of his target.
Sweeping back to where the scent was strongest, Bungee caught it. It was definitely Rourke’s smell seeping up through the cracks in the roof. The dog honed in on it and figured he was standing right over the human’s head.
That was when the wooden beams under his paws sagged…
Before Bungee could even think to move, the roof collapsed under his paws and the dog fell through.
Moss, dirt and wood choked the air as bungee fell in a blur of motion. He wasn’t sure which way was up or down until he hit the ground with a distinct thud. Murky dust filled the air as light filtered through the gaping hole left in the ceiling.
Blinking away dirt, Bungee rolled from his side onto his belly and looked up to see his target.
Rourke stood there, waving off the dust and dirt with one hand, rifle gripped in the other. He was focused in the dog’s field of view, standing in an overhead spotlight, highlighted with everything around the man blurring and darkening. Bungee didn’t hesitate. From his prone position on the muddy floor, the dog leapt forward, mouth agape and fangs bared.
And with a single powerful snap, two hundred pounds of pressure per square inch forced his teeth into Rourke’s arm. He felt the man tug as he screamed out loud with pain and surprise, but Bungee didn’t let up. He pulled back, tugging sharply from side to side in an attempt to pull the man off his feet. But Rourke wouldn’t go down.
The lieutenant steadied his stance by lowering his centre of gravity and keeping his feet widely parted.
Finally managing to get the dirt out of his eyes, Rourke looked down at the dog clamped onto his forearm, keeping the rifle pointed off to one side. The human pulled. Bungee bit down harder and pulled back.
They couldn’t keep it up for much longer. Soon Rourke would go for his knife with his free hand and Bungee would be at a disadvantage. He had to gamble.
Pulling as hard as he could, Bungee tried to get the human off-balance before letting go of his arm. In an instant he leapt up, jaws aiming for the throat. He had to get Rourke on the ground as quickly as possible. He had to end this fight before it started proper…
Unfortunately Bungee was too slow.
He missed as the human jumped back, lifting a knee to his chest and lashing out with a kick. The rough sole of his boot hit Bungee right in the side of the head, nearly knocking the sense right out of him. The blow left Bungee tasting blood, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t Rourke’s. Launched across the workshop with a yelp, Bungee landed low on all fours before dashing for cover into the shadowy corners of the room.
Lieutenant Rourke’s rifle came up and started barking its retort in an instant. The smoke burned in Bungee’s nose and the flashes of light forced his pupils to contract. In an instant the whole room faded to darkness, lit only for unfathomable brief moments with the fire flashing from Rourke’s rifle trying to track the dashing dog.
Stupid gun. Bungee hated the damn things, especially now. All sense of smell was gone as burnt gunpowder choked the air. His night vision had been completely cancelled out by the muzzle-flare, darkening the whole room for the dog. All he could really do for the moment was duck into cover and hope for some breathing room.
Bullets slammed into the workshop walls and tables. Rourke’s aim jerked from side to side, the rifle magazine half-spent as he searched for the target. His eyes squinted into the shadowy corners as he tried to find the dog. He couldn’t see the mutt and slowly lowered his weapon. Maybe he’d scared it off.
Groaning, Rourke reeled as he noticed the stinging pain in his right forearm. Looking down he could see small dots of blood spreading into his sleeves. That bite had broken skin. This mutt wasn’t screwing around.
“Grogar, fetch me a-…” Rourke was about to ask for the med-kit he kept in his backpack, when a black and brown blur shot out over one of the worktops.
Planting his paws on the surface of the worktop, Bungee uncoiled like a striking snake and launched himself directly at the human. His maw was spread wide, teeth aimed at the human’s exposed neck…
Moments from his target, Bungee was jerked off course.
A putrid green glow enveloped Bungee’s vest and held him in place like a giant’s hand. The dog snapped his jaw and clawed his paws at the air beside Rourke’s face as the human managed to recoil out of range. And with a flick of Grogar’s magic, Bungee was tossed clean across the room; over the tables littered with sharp implements, and into a wooden cage sat right beside Celestia’s cell.
Hitting the back of the cage, Bungee yelped and slumped to the ground, looking up. He was seeing double, but he didn’t care. Shrugging the blow off, the dog scrambled to his paws and threw himself back towards Rourke, only to have the cage door slam shut in his face.
The lock’s click was drowned out by the creak of the cage as Bungee threw himself against the wooden bars with all his might. His head nearly split with pain of the impact, but again and again he recoiled and threw himself against the cage door. He was so close. Rourke was right there!
And he was foiled by some bound branches boxing him in.
After the eight time, Bungee stopped throwing himself at the cages, angrily watching the human recover from the attempt on his life.
Breathing hard with a mixture of shattered pride and pain, Rourke shouldered his rifle and jammed the barrel between the bars of the wooden cage. Despite having a gun pointed squarely at his head, Bungee didn’t flinch. He just kept his glare fixed on the human, growling fiercely all the time.
Gritting his jaw, the human tightened his finger on the trigger. It met the first pressure point, tightening back a little more. With a click it would release the spring loaded mechanism and unleash eh firing pin, ejecting a bullet out of the chamber, down the barrel and into the dog’s head…
But he stopped when he saw something.
Confusion, then realisation took over Rourke’s face as he let go of the trigger, engaging the safety and lowering the rifle.
“Wait...” he whispered softly, moving in closer to inspect the dog and the gear he wore. “Wait, I know you. I recognise that gear. That’s... you’re a Military Working Dog, aren’t you? Not just that, you...” With widened eyes, the man looked at the black ink tattoo etched on the inside of Bungee’s left ear. “M192! You’re Gunnery Sergeant Bellew’s dog! What was your name? Bingo...? Bennie...? Bino...?” The lieutenant paused to think, rubbing the bridge of his nose before suddenly looking up with a snap of his fingers. “Bungee! That’s it! Bungee.”
Bungee started barking loudly and quickly, as if warning the lieutenant from speaking his name. Rourke merely chuckled with a frown.
“Oh, and you know exactly who I am. You know I killed your handler don’t you.” With a glimmer of a smirk, the lieutenant leaned on his knees, edging closer to the cage holding the growling German Shepherd. Rourke looked right into Bungee’s eyes and he recognised that gaze. “I can see it in your eyes. You want nothing more than to drop me like I dropped Samantha. That is remarkable. A dog out to avenge its handler. I never would have believed it unless I saw it for myself.” The man straightened up with another chuckle. “And I’m dealing with talking horses.”
Letting his rifle hang in its sling, Rourke stepped back from the cage and turned away from the dog as his barks settled to a low growl. Grogar looked between the human and the newfound canine adversary with a bit of confusion.
“Aren’t you going to kill it?” He asked.
Rourke shook his head in response. “No, I can’t just kill it. It seems like a waste. No, what I’ll do is let it watch what we have in store for Equestria. Let it know it failed just before I kill it.”
The demon ram scoffed. “In my experience leaving an adversary alive when you have the chance to kill it usually ends badly.”
“That’s rich coming from you.” – Grogar rolled his eyes under Rourkes accusing glare – “It’s just a dog. How much trouble can it be?” he reasoned with a casual wave. “Leave it in the cage; we’ll deal with this later.”
Grogar sighed out a; ‘fine,’ moving towards his alchemy station to prepare the love poison he had in store for Celestia. Figuring he may as well help to speed up the process, Rourke moved to join him. But as he did, there was a distinct stomp of a hoof on the ground.
It was Celestia in the cage beside Bungee’s. She stomped up to the edge of the cage, locking her glare on the human soldier.
“Lieutenant Rourke!” – the human immediately turned to face her with an angered, ‘What!?’ – “I don’t understand,” Celestia admitted.
“What don’t you understand?” Rourke shook his head as he moved closer to the alicorn’s cage, hearing Grogar pottering about his alchemy lab nearby.
The princess wasn’t sure where to even begin. So she started with the most paramount questions. “Why are you doing this? Why are you harming my little ponies? Why are you helping that monster?”
“That monster” – he bent his fingers to indicate quotation marks on his emphasis – “is going to give me the Elements of Harmony.”
“He does not have them,” Celestia chided, causing Rourke to chuckle.
“I know that. But once he takes over Equestria he will.”
It still didn’t make much sense to Princess Celestia. Before all the forces of evil wanted was to rule Equestria, gain riches and enslave her little ponies. Never before had she met an individual whose goal was to procure the Elements of Harmony for himself. And even if he managed, he wasn’t one of the bearers. He wouldn’t be able to use them.
“Why do you want them?” she asked cautiously.
“I need the Elements of Harmony to save my world.”
Celestia gave a mirthless laugh. “Really?” she sounded unconvinced. “If that is what you needed, why not just come to me and ask for help!?”
Rourke pulled a confused face wondering what the alicorn’s angle was. “You’d let me take them?”
“I would have gladly sent them to save your world,” Celestia explained calmly. “There would have been no need for any of this violence!”
Realising what the talking horse was thinking, Rourke laughed. “Princess, my world isn’t being destroyed by an evil monster. My world is suffering a long term energy crisis. The elements are an answer to that crisis. They are a source of infinite energy. When I take the Elements of Harmony, you will never see them again... ever.”
Celestia’s eyes widened as she shook her head, nearly recoiling until her flank pressed against the back of the cage.
“But... but the Elements of Harmony are what protect Equestria! We would be left vulnerable to attack!”
“My world is at war!” Rourke retorted angrily. “My people are fighting – killing each other over resources. These are the names the friends I’ve lost just because some corporate oil-baron’s profit margin dropped a few percent,” – he tapped a finger agiasnt the flag pinned to his chest, adorned with names written in black ink. “So when I ran out of space on the first flag I decided humanity needed an alternative power source.
“The Elements of harmony were scouted out in a planetwide evacuation experiment we called the Ark Project. We thought we were tunnelling a stable wormhole to a rich new planet with resources, but in truth we had found away into parallel dimension where magic was real. I led the project, discerning that the Elements of Harmony was our best bet of survival.
“But our do-gooder leaders decided leaving whole cities and societies to starve or be eradicated by our enemies was fine and dandy, but saving our people by condemning a few ponies worlds away was too much. All the evil they’d done to our own people, and they couldn’t bring themselves to wipe out some colourful fucking horses?”
“All things have a right to exist.” Celestia snarled. “Your leaders were wise.”
“Wise? Wise!? They sit in their comfy conference rooms talking about change but are too chicken-shit to take responsibility and actually do what needs to be done!” – Rourke pointed out in a random direction – “It is a dog-eat-dog universe, princess! Survival of the fittest! And I am going to make sure humanity stays on top of the food-chain!”
“I am very sorry for what is happening to your world; but you cannot just lay waste to my world to save your own.”
“Watch me!” Rourke yelled before calming himself. “You’d do the same in my position.”
Celestia gasped angrily. “No! I wouldn’t! Never!”
“Is that so? Well then think of it this way. Would you sacrifice your world for mine?” Celestia remained silent at his twist of words, and Rourke nodded grimly before walking away from her. “No, I didn’t think so.”