The two were trapped in dementia and paranoia for the following week. Each had a thousand alien thoughts and ideas and hallucinations running rampant within their heads; that wretched book had, indeed, cursed them with all it contained. They each were filled with a thousand pages-worth of knowledge about horrific creatures from distant worlds that plagued their every waking moment in the form of fearsome hallucinations, or formless shadows on the walls. They each expressed their terror in different ways: Headcase frantically writhed and twitched at his moments of brief spontaneous combustion (in his attempt to destroy the tome, it lashed out in automatic retaliation by cursing him with the element he vainly used to obliterate it), while Screwball merely screamed and mumbled to herself.
A passerby would immediately condemn the two to a psychiatric hospital without a second thought, but only because they do not know the truth: what plagued them was not traditional madness, but knowledge. Each of them now had every drop of knowledge that cursed book contained, and their mortal minds could not bear the weight of it all without wavering severely. They knew every little detail written about every little creature as well as if they had written the book themselves. They also knew what a terrible thing they've just done.
They knew that all of those wretched arcs of starlight were not a mere spectacle of wonder, but a display of danger and future horrors. Each burning star was the embodiment of the abhorrent creature that those innocent-looking pages sought to contain with their writer's magic; but now that magic had been torn away, and the beasts within now had a way out. They now waited in random holes and crevasses for their turn: their turn to wake up, and to act as viciously as they need to.
In that final blast of light, the book itself burst into pieces (spine, front cover, back cover, key and metal lock) and made like those arcs to hide itself among the earth, as if to make the following years of adventure very difficult for Headcase; the only way for those beasts to be returned to their prison was for all of the pieces of the book to be in one place, and for the wielder to cast a touch of magic as a kick-starter for the process to take place. They both had this knowledge, but could only cower in dementia by themselves, knowing that horrific monsters now wait in the darkness to sweep them up in their claws and chomp their heads off, or worse.
The first, and most moving, example of this happened one afternoon. It crept out of the woods and beckoned dear Screwball outside, where she met its disturbing, blank countenance and tall, disproportionate body which wore an inky black suit and blood red necktie to offset its pale skin. It reached out with its long, black tendrils that sprouted from its back to gently have them dance before her as it receded into the thick trees, leading her hypnotically. Headcase looked out to see this, and shouted at his beloved, snapping her out of her trance. Realizing her situation, she screamed at the thing as it gently, yet at the same time irresistibly, grabbed hold of her with the same tendrils, which had now become more vicious.
Headcase grabbed a cup-hilt sword framed on the wall with his magic and rushed at the beast. It retreated into the woods while he neared. Screwball was now being dragged on the ground, reaching out for her husband and screaming for help. Headcase drew the sword and tried to swing at the tentacles, but the closer he got, he found himself plagued by a mental haze that slowed him down and made him dizzy. He closed his eyes for what felt like a half of a second, but when he opened them, he saw the creature and its prize much, much deeper into the woods. He tried to keep up, but the haze slowed him down more, until he collapsed on the ground of exhaustion and confusion. The haze began to consume him, but just before he went unconscious, he focused the last of his energy into the sword, aimed at the creature's heart (if one could say it had one), and shot it forward like a bullet, slicing the air and landing, hopefully, on its mark before his eyes closed the last time.
The sword was planted deeply in a tree, and a thick, oily liquid was dripping from the blade, but no sign of the slender monster or his beloved. Headcase made a vow right then: he would finish what he started. He would save this blade, keep it as an embodiment of his vindictiveness, and use it only to sever the head of that wicked monster, whether it would bring Screwball back or not. The blade already had the taste of its target, but he wouldn't stop there; he would see to it that each and every one of those beasts got put back in their place. He would find all the pieces of the book, and he would fix this mistake himself; it was his burden to carry.
However, he could not possibly do it alone. He needed help. He needed influence, needed power, needed... a team.
There was a tapping sound that echoed through the inside of the cave as Headcase walked deep within. The light became weaker and weaker to the point that all was as black as the soul of the Shadow-king, Sombra. Headcase, having spent his days since the incident using his magic to control the flame forever burning inside of him at will. A small blue flame hovered before his horn, covering a mediocre area around him with soft light. He passed by several stalagmites, and swore that he saw movement behind them, though when he looked, nothing was there.
Unknown to him, a slithering, scaly organism crept silently on the stone floor, down on all fours, its scales fanned out to appear even more menacing. It hung back in the shadows a mere six feet behind Headcase, its yellow eyes like slits in a sheet of blackness. Slowly it rose, its forked tongue almost grazing his back. It now towered above him, its claws bared and its fangs dripping hungrily.
Headcase heard a vague hissing behind him, and he turned around and saw the bluish demon with pale green spines poised to tear him limb from limb.
"Grey?" he said.
Instantly, the beast lost all of its threatening aura.
"Headcase! Wassup, man?" it--he--said. It wrapped Headcase up in a big, brotherly, albeit sharp, hug, making the small flame go out.
"Sorry, bro," Grey said as he released his old friend. As soon as the flame was reignited, Grey noticed the physical changes on his friend's face. His hair was streaked with gray parts against the usual black, and his eyes looked tired and had strange horizontal burn scars around them. Even the expression on his face looked haggard and weary with an underlying, nihilistic cynicism.
"Whoa, man. What happened to you?"
Headcase gently touched his scars briefly before answering.
"It's a... long story..." He paused for a moment. "I need to ask you for something... a favor."
"Sure; what is it?" Grey said, ignorant of the coming magnitude of the service about to be asked of him.
"I need you to help me... take care of some things. Now, before I explain, I need you to understand that you don't owe me anything, and I don't want you to hate me for dragging you into this-"
"Dude, we're practically brothers. We help each other out when the other needs it. Besides, how much trouble could it be?"
Silver lining soared alone through the orange evening sky, frustrated and angsty..
"I don't need those Wonder-dorks!" she thought to herself. "Bunch o' lousy, good-for-nothing showboaters!"
She ascended above the vertical limit of Cloudsdale and saw the mountain that supported Canterlot sitting on the horizon, and the quaint town of Ponyville seated in a valley below it. She seethed for a time while she soared, carrying her decommissioned Wonderbolt uniform with her, but then, with some heavy breathing, she learned to calm down. When she did, her thoughts changed from frustration to elation at her newfound freedom. Now, she didn't have to perform flight drills or get up at five in the morning or answer to Spitfire or Soarin (although, she didn't mind answering to him). She could start a new life, do new things better suited to her personality.
She was wild. She was reckless. Her passive explosiveness could not be contained. All that the Wonderbolt academy did for her was teach her how to be a plain Jane who could do some flight routines that were mildly exciting to her. But mildly exciting wasn't enough for her to be satisfied. She wanted spontaneity; something to keep her interested. All there was for her there was routines that were practiced over and over and over again and exercise after exercise after exercise.
She couldn't stay interested in career like that. And frankly, she couldn't understand why anyone would want something like that.
She thought deeply about what she would do now while she flew. "Maybe I could be an adventurer, or a stunt double for the upcoming 'Daring Do' movie. Anything!"
Her thoughts of the future were interrupted by a disturbance in the now-thickening clouds. One jerked its light, fluffy body to one side, as if something had flown past it, and then dissipated. She was surprised by this, and then felt a cold blast of air swipe past her on the other side. She stopped in the air and looked around, slightly panicked. She saw no sign of anything that could have caused the disturbance.
"Hello? Can I help you?" she called out into the sky. Embarrassed by her childish fear, she puffed out her chest. "If you're screwing with me, then you've got another thing coming!"
Silence.
"Hmph, that's what I thought." As she turned to continue on her path to nowhere-in-particular, a massive, dark shape swooped down, clutching her in huge, oily talons. It wrenched her from the sky and pulled her high up into the atmosphere, beyond the clouds, where the cold emptiness of space was staring down at them. In the clarity, she saw its entire hideousness looming over her: A body larger than an elephant, with slick black scales and enormous bat-like wings. Its head was equine in shape, but was a sickly beige-red with black eyes. She would scream, but she was being strangled by not only its claws, but the lack of oxygen at that altitude. Thinking quickly, she bit into the disgusting flesh of its talons, forcing it to let go with a quick yelp.
She began freefalling, and continued to do so for several hundred yards until she regained control, at which point she fanned out her wings to slow down. Then she looked up and saw the hippocephalic demon closing in on her. She led it on a lengthy chase through the sky, it nipping at her wings and she diving under it masterfully. This went on for much longer than she could handle, and she made a dive for a nearby mountain. She skidded on a large platform before the mouth of a cave, and the thing quickly dove after her again. She rolled out of its path and made it slam hard onto the stone, cracking some of its gnashing teeth. I clumsily tried to get back up, but she brutally kicked it in the face, knocking it out cold.
She stepped back to examine this unholy beast that she had felled. She herself was bruised, scraped, and bleeding lightly from the mouth, yet she had enough energy to teach this thing a lesson. She turned and strutted (limped, more like) towards the ledge, preparing to take off and abandon this thing and continue her contemplation.
She heard shuffling just barely audible coming from behind her. She turned and was looking down the throat of the monster, seeing all of its cracked and vicious teeth surrounding its long tongue stained with blood marks.
There was a large blue flashing behind it, and it writhed and twitched before going limp and revealing the odd pair standing behind it. A unicorn holding a sword with the blade turned backwards in the hilt, and an adolescent dragon wielding an electric baton. Odd, indeed.
"I totally had it," she defended. Headcase and Grey looked between each other and then back at her. Grey looked just a bit too long, and then was completely smitten. A moving cloud revealed her shining hair and beautiful face (even with all the blood and dirt). A tiny movement of the beast interrupted his fantasizing, so he jabbed it once more with the baton, shutting it up for good.
"Stupid Shantak..."
"We saw how you handled things up there," Headcase said. "We could use someone like you on our team."
Silver looked at him questioningly. "What do ya mean?"
"Termination?" Zen asked.
"Yes, you have been terminated on account of multiple reports of your reckless endangerment of your fellow teammates and others." said Shining Armor.
Zen was confused and angry. "What?! Counter Strike was in the way! There's no way I could have defeated the changeling assailants without collateral damage."
"That's the problem," Shining said calmly to his subordinate. "You consider everything that's not you 'collateral.' You have to take into account the thoughts and well-being of others. Defending the castle is great and all, but you sometimes cause more damage than you prevent. I'm sorry I have to do this to you, I know we served together once, and that you really try, but you're too dangerous to have around. I'm... sorry. Please turn in your uniform by the end of the day."
Zen stormed out, his face red and his veins pulsing. He knew that an outburst now would only make his case seem more ridiculous, but he felt himself losing control. He screamed and reared his forelegs up and brought them down hard on the tiled floor, shattering the ones unlucky enough to be under him at that moment. A long crack now ran along the floor for several feet. He practically bucked open the doors as he was leaving, making Shining Armor hang his head and sigh.
Zen didn't know what to do now; the royal guard was all he had, and violence was all he knew, not in a wicked sense but a mere experience-in-battle sense. There weren't many jobs around where he could utilize his immense strength other than plowing fields, but that sort of job was for simple farm folk.
He walked grimly down the street when a piece of paper flew up and planted itself on his face. He wrenched it off and saw that it was a flier for a series of classes to help one control their emotions via meditation and yoga and that sort of thing. He snarled at the paper, but deep inside he knew that this would probably benefit him by teaching him to not be so emotionally reckless.
The next several months were spent in those same classes he had openly ridiculed. He had made great progress in his endeavors; he was now a true interpretation of his no-longer-ironic name. He had come to his own conclusions about subjects like life and death, and what purpose everything serves or does not serve in the universe, as if he had achieved oneness with himself and discovered his own personal truths. His emotions were no longer on the surface for all to see, but were instead deeper inside and under his control. He had even become the teacher's top student, learning some things not taught in the class, such as a great handful of calming types of martial arts of passive nature.
He was in one of the normal classes on a day just like any other. He was surrounded by others who had come for similar reasons to his, and were getting ready for a session of stretches. The teacher at the front of the room spoke with his quiet, relaxing tone that Zen was so used to, and gave a short speech about self-awareness and inner peace before starting.
Everypony had gotten all good and relaxed, when a disturbance from outside interrupted them slightly. It was a sort of rumbling, followed by a distant hum. One student peeked out the window, and almost instantly his eyes widened and he made a mad dash for the back exit, whimpering in fear. The teacher himself got up and looked out the window to find the source of the now very near sounds. A shadow came over him as he stood at the window, and a massive explosion rocked the building and knocked the other students back. There was dust and rubble floating around in the air, getting into ponies' eyes and making the scene even more difficult to observe. Zen made it to his hooves and cleared the debris from his eyes.
The entire wall of the building had been caved in, and a large, hairy beast was looming over the dojo. It had a hideous face: its mouth was turned sideways, so the yellow teeth ran vertically, and its eyes were situated on either side of the wretched orifice. Its body looked a disgusting shade of dull blue and gray, and had coarse, thinning hair all over it. It stood on two relatively stubby legs, and at the elbows, its arms split into two separate forearms, bringing its four claws to the ground with their length. But two of those large paws were raised, and Zen saw that they were clutching his dear master!
"Heaven Mandate!" he called to his oriental teacher. All the sensei could do was look at his top student with a clear face, void of worry or fear. Before he could save his beloved master, the thing opened its already-gaping maw even wider, snapped it shut loudly, and sent a thin spray of blood across Zen's face. He looked in horror at the disorder before him: screaming, blood, pain and fear. All of those mixed elements brought about a complete imbalance that he could not stand. The loss of his master, along with a few corpses outside the building, troubled him, but he believed that they would not be bothered with earthly troubles now, so he was less concerned with grievances and more concerned with the disharmony that he felt he had to stop. He believed in balance, and what erupted before him was not balanced.
He nimbly dodged a blow from the beast and bucked its messy red jaws, using all of his mass in the kick. It stumbled back, giving him space to move and lead it down the street, away from the most ponies as possible. It gave chase, and he led it down a steep path that went off the main road. It stumbled a bit and went tumbling down the path towards Zen, but he quickly dodged it and let it crash into a rocky stream. It lumbered back to its feet and swiped an arm across the ground. Zen once again dodged with a powerful jump, and came crashing down with both grace and awesome power on its elbow, eliciting a howl that shook the trees. It swung and lashed and scraped and chomped and pounded at Zen, but he moved like a feather floating loosely in the wind, yet when he struck, it was like a great quake focused into a single spot, be it the size of a hoof or an elbow or knee. Their mighty duel lasted for approximately three and a half minutes, before Zen wore it down finally.
The behemoth, known to the wise as a Gug, slumped forward at his feet, exhausted and beaten. He himself only suffered from a light sweat on his brow. He bowed in respect to the fallen but not dead beast as a thunderous menagerie of hooves clambered down the steep hill. Dozens of ponies dressed in gray-and-blue armor surrounded the Gug, pointing menacing rifles and electric prods at its tired body. One came over to him and gestured him away from the scene. The tired, rugged-looking unicorn carried a sword with his magic and wore a band around his front left leg that read: "N.E.C.C.B."
"Are you okay, buddy?" he asked.
"I am fine, friend. What... is that?" Zen asked calmly.
An adolescent dragon walked out from behind him and looked at the scene with his claws on his hips.
"That, my fine... buff... friend, is called a Gug. Right?" The last part was directed at the unicorn, who nodded.
A female pegasus floated upside-down in front of Zen's face, mildly surprising him.
"You're a pretty good fighter, ain't ya? Hey, Headcase, whaddya think about this guy joining our team? Huh? Huh? If he can take down a- a Gag, then he cou--"
"Gug."
"Whatever... So how about it?"
Headcase looked at Zen thoughtfully for a moment. "Well, it's completely up to you, mister..."
"Zen."
"... Zen. Are you interested in enlisting in the N.E.C.C.B?"
"What is this... 'N.E.C.C.B?'"
The other ponies in their uniforms gathered up the creature in a sturdy type of net as the unicorn, pegasus, and dragon all said in unison:
"The Non-Equestrian Creature Containment Bureau."