The Inquisitorial ships had finally ceased their fire, but the damage done was irreversible. The lush jungles and rain forests of Salika were burned and leveled to ashes. Equestrial structures were utterly demolished by the blasts. Ponies, animals, every living thing upon the planet was nearly wiped off the face of the world.
Though some trees still stood, but burned beyond recovery. And some buildings were still standing, though damaged severely. Yet they would not be standing there much longer.
Aboard the flagship of the Inquisitorial fleet, the weapon's crew were preparing the final strike that would seal Salika's fate forever. They were nearing their targeted firing spot. The cannon was loaded and ready to fire. When they reached the target, the cannon fired.
The bomb roared through the atmosphere, searing with the blaze of entering. Survivors looked up in horror as they watched the bomb fall. When it made impact with the surface, a tidal wave of fire blanketed Salika, and utterly incinerated all life.
Salika was officially exterminated.
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Michael Pegalos
It is pony nature to seek culpability in a time of tragedy.
It is a sign of strength, to cry out against fate, rather to bow one's head and succumb.
Inevitably, many shall fault the hooves upon the sword which felled Salika, the Ordo Stalleus.
But the Inquisition merely performs the duty of its office. To further fear them is redundant; to hate them, heretical.
Those more sensible will place responsibility with those who force the hooves of the Inquisition...
With some fortune, they may foster this hatred into purpose, and further rule their own fate by coming to the Empress's service.
Yet ultimately, it was I who set these events into motion, with a single blow from my hammer, God Splitter.