//------------------------------// // Chapter 13 // Story: My Little Avengers // by koolerkid //------------------------------// “WHEEEEEEEEEEE!” Pinkie cheered excitedly, waving her hooves in the air enthusiastically. “Pinkie, please. Flying is most difficult with an unruly passenger,” Thor grumbled. “Sorry, Thor... aw colt, Thor isn’t nearly as fun a name as Mac! Mac attack alack apack a sack a-” “Pinkie.” “Sorry.” She wrapped her hooves around the Alicorn’s neck again, snuggling up close as her friend flew along at a sedate pace. “How much longer ‘till we’re home, Mackey? I’m bored.” “Just another few minutes, Pinkie,” Thor said with a sigh. He’d been looking forward to visiting his family again for a few days, but as much as he loved his little pink friend she was an absolute terror on long trips. Big Mac had been reluctant to take a day off; Loki could strike at any time. Princess Luna had insisted, though, claiming that he needed to spend time with his family before the fight with Loki got too heated. Mac agreed, reluctantly, and as soon as Pinkie learned of it she insisted on going with him. She missed the Cakes and she needed to check on Gummy, she explained. Which is why a trip that would’ve taken Thor a few minutes alone was taking nearly an hour, as Pinkie couldn’t withstand the ludicrous speeds Thor could reach. Big Mac wouldn’t have minded, but Pinkie was far too hyper to sit still for long. “Hey Thor...” Pinkie said, her voice sounding unusually subdued. “Yes, Pinkie?” “Something feels funny.” Pinkie sounded... puzzled? “It feels kinda like my Pinkie sense, but not quite, like when you’ve got a word on the tip of your tongue and can’t quite remember it. It’s making me feel all rumbly and jumbly inside, and I don’t like it.” Thor turned back to look at his friend with concern. “Is it something serious? Perhaps you’re just nervous from the long flight.” “Maybe...” Pinkie said slowly, before being suddenly interrupted by a loud rumbling from her stomach. “Whoops! Nevermind, I’m just hungry! Let’s go get some food!” Thor laughed at his scatterbrained friend and flew on. ----------------- “I’m glad you’re doing better, Soarin’,” Spitfire said, giving her friend a hug. Soarin’ laughed, hugging her back before laying back down on his hospital bed. “Me too! The nurses here are nice, but I haven’t had a decent slice of pie in weeks! I’ll be glad to get outta here.” Spitfire just laughed at her gluttonous friend. “Oh, a lack of pie. Certainly a more terrible fate than death by deranged mutant lunatic. You poor thing, you.” Soarin’ just laughed. “Aw, get outta here, Chief. Your coltfriend is waiting for you, and I’ve held you here too long already.” “Caramel’s not my coltfriend, goofball,” Spitfire said as she got up to leave. “Yet,” she added with a wink before trotting out the door. Spitfire was in great spirits as she glided out of the hospital, drifting along through the air lazily. Ever since the Avengers’ first successful fight a few days ago, everything had been pretty quiet. She and Caramel had been spending a lot of time together during the downtime, while Thor vanished on some mysterious errand and Blue vanished into his lab. With Soarin’ on the mend, her and Caramel getting along wonderfully, the team’s public support high, and no villains in sight, things had never looked brighter. She should’ve known better. The universe hates perfect days. Spitfire came up short, suddenly feeling dizzy and lightheaded. She landed, trying not to fall over. Was she having a vision? She closed her eyes, trying to focus. No, this didn’t feel like a vision... it felt more like that one time she’d overtaxed her powers against the Hulk and let her magic run dry. She opened her eyes, and noticed another strange thing. There was nopony in the streets. They weren’t just empty, they were... abandoned. Even the little stand selling hayfries on the corner was deserted. “Where is everypony?” Spitfire wondered aloud. She got back into the air as the dizzy sensation faded away, and she ignited her mane as a precaution. “I sent them away,” came a hauntingly familiar voice from behind her. Spitfire spun around to see a pegasus with a bright red coat and a deep orange mane. He was extremely skinny, even for a pegasus, and his eyes held a haunted look. His cutie mark, a burning comet, was what triggered the memory in Spitfire’s mind. “Blaze? Sunny Blaze, is that you?” she asked, stunned. “I haven’t seen you in years... not since...” “Since you got me kicked from the Wonderbolts? Is that what you were going to say?” Blaze replied, not even attempting to hide the bitterness in his voice. “I didn’t ‘get’ you kicked from the Wonderbolts.” Spitfire replied hotly. “You got yourself kicked. Those stunts could’ve gotten somepony killed, especially you!” “Shut up!” Blaze roared, rising into the air. “It’s your fault! And now... YOU’LL PAY!” A bright green symbol appeared on his forehead - a twisting snake in the shape of an S. “Oh no... Blaze, don’t!” Spitfire cried, but it was too late. Laughing maniacally, Sunny Blaze began to transform, his bright mane turning black as midnight as flames erupted from his mane and tail, covering his face and wings in fire. The flesh burned away, leaving nothing but a leering, burning skull and a pair of skeletal wings, though they didn’t seem to impair his flying ability at all. “I AM NO LONGER SUNNY BLAZE,” boomed the skeletal pony. “THAT STALLION IS DEAD. I AM HIS GHOST... A SPIRIT OF VENGEANCE... THE GHOST FLYER!” Spitfire took a step back, her mouth falling open. “Oh Sunny...” she whispered, as her own fire spread over her like burning armor. “What did you do?” The Ghost Flyer laughed; a cold, haunting sound. “WHAT INDEED? I HAVE TAKEN THE GIFT FATE MISTAKENLY BESTOWED UPON YOU, AND TAKEN IT FOR MYSELF! THOUGH I MADE SOME... MODIFICATIONS.” The skull that was once Sunny Blaze grinned broadly at Spitfire, not that it had much choice, and its’ eyes glowed with an unholy light. “AND NOW, SPITFIRE... FIREBIRD... IT IS TIME TO MEET YOUR END!” Spitfire barely had time to react as the shambling mockery of a pony launched itself at her, its’ skeletal mouth opening wide to reveal sharpened fangs in the place of teeth. In a rush of flame, Spitfire shot straight up, out of harm’s way. On instinct, she spun and shot a burst of flame down at her foe. It washed against him harmlessly, eliciting a hollow laugh. “YOU WANT TO PLAY WITH FIRE, LITTLE FILLY? FINE. MY TURN.” The Ghost Flier thrust his front hooves towards Spitfire, launching a gout of bright flames at her. Spitfire reached outward with her own flame, trying to seize control of it, but it eluded her. The flame hit her dead center, and even though her coat was covered in living flame, Spitfire could feel the Ghost Flier’s fire burn at the very core of her being. Spitfire didn’t even notice she’d lost control of her wings until she crashed, didn’t noticed she was screaming until she ran out of breath. The laughing skeleton descended upon her, its’ eyes locking with her. “MY FIRE BURNS AT THE VERY SOUL, FOOLISH MARE. MERE MORTAL FIRE WILL NOT STAND AGAINST IT. NOW... TO PAY PENANCE FOR YOUR CRIMES...” His eyes glowed brightly as something seemed to pass between him and Spitfire. “ALL YOUR CRIMES... ALL YOUR DOUBT, GUILT AND SHAME... LET IT ALL BE REVEALED BY MY PENANCE STARE!” Something not unlike her visions came over Spitfire, her real sight fading away as a nightmarish montage of memories began. She remembered allowing Soarin to get hurt... getting Sunny kicked from the team... that time she left Rainbow Dash in the cold to take interviews at the Gala... that one filly whose dreams she accidentally crushed, telling her she was a weak flier... that time she stole a piece of candy as a filly... Every crime, every hidden shame and buried guilt Spitfire carried around with her surged up now and consumed her mind. As her vision faded to black, the last thing she heard was the Ghost Flier’s hollow laughter, ringing in her ears. ----------------- Prince Blueblood was once again hard at work in his workshop. He was testing a new combination of electromagnets and levitation spells that would finally make flight in his suit effortless and energy-effective. He found the idea incredibly appealing. Rarity stood behind him, clucking like a disapproving mother hen. “You can’t keep isolating yourself away like this, darling! I swear, you’re worse then Twilight, the way you never leave this dreary workshop.” “I know, I know, my darling,” Blueblood replied distractedly. “But I am so close to unraveling this mystery! Imagine all the good I could do...” “Oh, that is it!” Blue gave a startled yelp as he was telekinetically yanked away from his workbench and spun to face Rarity. “Blue, it’s wonderful that you’ve dedicated yourself to aiding others so much, but take it from the Element of Generosity herself: if you don’t take care of yourself, you’ll never be able to care for others. It’s okay to be a bit selfish every once in a while. You’re a prince! Pamper yourself!” Blue blinked at the sudden onslaught. “I... I suppose I have been working rather hard... and everypony else is taking a vacation,” he said slowly, as the fervor that consumed him as he worked faded. “Yes, I suppose some relaxation is in order. I could use the break.” Rarity’s smile was radiant as she released Blueblood from her magical grip. “Excellent! I’ve booked us a day at the spa already; I’ll go freshen up and be right back. You clean up here, but don’t you dare get wrapped up in another project. I know how you get.” Blueblood shook his head in amusement. Of course she already had the spa day scheduled. That mare had him wrapped around her hoof and they both knew it. Not that he really minded. “Of course, my dear. I’ll see you in a moment.” “Good. See that you do,” Rarity said, trotting out of the room. Blueblood turned to his workbench, his tools beckoning to him to continue working. He ignored their siren call, determined to make the most of this day with Rarity. Such a beautiful mare, and she’d been so very kind to him. She deserved some attention. He began putting his equipment away, though he couldn’t resist making a quick adjustment to a misaligned sapphire. He didn’t bother to turn around as he heard hoofsteps reenter the workshop. “Ready already, Rarity? Or did you forget something?” “I’m afraid Rarity won’t be joining us,” came a male voice, startling Blueblood. “She’s taking a small nap, so we businessponies could talk.” Blueblood spun around and came face-to-face with a familiar unicorn. He had a jet-black coat, and he was completely bald of any mane, though his tale was a light gray. His cutie mark was a grey clockwork gear, matching his tail and cold grey eyes. “Obsidian Shade.” Blueblood said, his tone polite but distaste on his face. He never liked the pony, and not just due to his arrogant distaste of ‘commoners’. Shade was a pony who had built himself one of the largest manufacturing companies in Equestria from the ground up. While Blueblood could respect the amount of effort put into the endeavor, especially now, Shade used tactics that even the most backstabbing, treacherous members of the Canterlot nobility considered dirty. He was a ‘disreputable pony’, the kind no respectable pony would willingly associate with. “To what do I owe the... pleasure?” “Ah, I’ve missed that subtle arrogance,” Obsidian Shade said with a laugh. “Owe the, significant pause, pleasure. Very cute.” He shook his head slowly. “I always hated ponies like you. Hypocrites, all of you. Looking down on me like you’re somehow better than me, because you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth. Well, now it’s time to show you just how superior I really am.” Blueblood gasped suddenly as he felt a sharp pain in his chest, collapsing to the floor. He glanced down at the Core Diamond embedded over his heart, and his eyes widened. The glow was dimming and flickering, as though the magic was being... drained... “Oh, don’t worry.” Shade said casually. Blueblood looked up and gasped as he saw the brilliant green symbol of Loki etch itself on the bald unicorn’s forehead. “I’m just borrowing a bit of energy for my own. Everything you built, you built with the money you stole from ponies like me; one good theft deserves another, wouldn’t you say?” Shade’s horn lit up, levitating a diamond just like the one Blueblood had in his chest. It was glowing brightly, just like the Core Diamond. Blueblood climbed to his feet as his Core Diamond ceased flickering and resumed it’s steady glow. “You... you stole my magic...” he whispered, his eyes wide. “How is that even possible?” “That’s not all I stole,” Obsidian said with a wide grin. “I also have some early schematics of that armor of yours. And now that I have a power source... well, let’s see how well it works, shall we?” Suddenly, the door of the workshop burst open as a suit of jet-black armor flew in. Blueblood summoned his own armor, but he was too slow. Even as his own red armor was assembling itself, Obsidian Shade was already encased in a massive steel behemoth, bristling with gemstone weaponry. “Prince Blueblood, meet the Iron Monger.” Shade’s voice came out distorted through the enormous armor’s speakers. “Now, it is time to end your hypocrisy.” He placed the glowing Core Diamond replica in the empty slot in the Monger’s chest, and a loud hum filled the room as its’ weapons charged up. Blueblood’s armor finally finished assembling, but it was too late. A jet of blue energy slammed into his chest, sending him flying backwards into a heavily-reinforced wall. Blueblood struggled to his hooves, but the much larger Iron Monger stomped on him, driving him down to the floor. “U-unhand me, you ruffian!”Blueblood tried to command, struggling beneath the iron hoof. “See? This is what I mean.” Shade said, his voice sounding unnaturally calm and composed underneath the distortion. “‘Ruffian’. ‘Peasant’. ‘Lower-class’.” The Iron Monger’s metal face filled Blueblood’s vision. “You claim to be trying to ‘improve’, but really? I think you’re just trying to make yourself feel superior again. You’ll never change. You’re an arrogant, inbred snob. It’s just your nature.” “N-no... I... I’m getting better... Rarity...” “HAH!” Obsidian sounded genuinely amused. “Yes, the hopeless romantic, forever chasing after her prince charming. She’s just as blind as you are, you hopeless fool.” The face moved out of Blueblood’s limited field of vision, to be replaced with the glow from a crystal emission cannon, something Blueblood had discarded as too violent a weapon. “Now go to sleep.” There was a bright flash, and then darkness. ----------------- Caramel felt like a pegasus, floating down the streets of Canterlot. He and Spitfire were going on their first date today! He was so happy, he felt like he might explode at any moment. The sight of the large, muscular pony bouncing along the busy street turned some heads, but Caramel didn’t even notice. He had a date! Okay, so maybe it wasn’t exactly a date. Neither he nor Spitfire actually called it a date. Since Spitfire had been to Canterlot many times before, she had offered to play ‘tour guide’. They planned to go get some food at her favorite restaurant, then go sightseeing. That was a date, right? Caramel wasn’t exactly certain whether or not it counted; he’d never really gone on a date before. He thought it counted, at least. He’d agonized for some time over whether or not he should buy Spitfire some flowers, so he’d consulted all the fonts of advice he could contact - Big Mac, a pony who was like an older brother to him; Prince Blueblood (actually not a bad colt once you got to know him) who had plenty of experience with mares; and Rarity, who was a mare herself and knew how they thought. He’d even talked to Captain Bulwark, who Caramel had come to see as something of a second father figure, though the older pony had little advice to give on matters of romance. Eventually, he’d taken the advice of both Rarity and Blueblood and decided to go buy her a single rose. He finally arrived at the florist shop, still grinning happily. He was trotting cheerfully to the door when a voice from behind him made him pause. “Excuse me, Herr Caramel.” The voice had a thick Braylin accent, which was rather odd; Braylin was miles from Canterlot. Caramel turned to see an earth pony about an inch smaller then him, with a pale coat and a blonde mane. His eyes were bright blue, and the Cutie Mark was an odd symbol Caramel didn’t recognize, like a spiral that had been squared off. “Pardon me, Herr Caramel, but are you ze von zey call ‘Kapitaen Equestria’?” Caramel felt a sensation like an electric jolt go through his body. The identities of the Avengers were meant to be a state secret, though not much could be done in the case of Spitfire, being a celebrity. Heck, not even the other Avengers knew the identity Thor took in his ‘mortal guise’, as he called it. “How did you know that?” Caramel asked, automatically assuming an aggressive stance, pawing at the ground. “Ah, excellent! I vas hoping I had ze right pony. Von moment, please.” The strange pony smiled eerily, and suddenly Caramel felt very weak. His legs buckled beneath him, and he suddenly recalled the moment the Rebirth Project had begun his transformation. Where that had felt like the sun dawning over him, he now felt like the sun was setting, the power waning from him. “W-what... what are y-you... d-doing...” Caramel tried to ask, feeling his old stutter return. He looked up at his mysterious attacker, and gasped as the symbol of Loki traced itself across the stallion’s forehead in bright green. “N-no...” “Ja, Kapitaen.” The stallion said was a cruel laugh. “You see, I haf alvays believed in the power ov destiny. Some ponies are destined for greatness, some for failure. Some are simply naturally superior, others fit only to be their servants.” Caramel was shakily getting back to his hooves, feeling his strength slowly returning, but he doubted it would be fast enough. “I am a superior pony. I vas born with greatness in mine veins, by virtue of superior breeding, superior intelligence, superior strength ov body and vill. Ze power of the Rebirth Project vas meant for a pony like me, not an inferior pony such as you.” The pony began to change, his already muscular body growing to match, even exceed Caramel’s. His coat turned a bright red, and as Caramel watched in horror, his face began to distort, shrinking inward to a grotesque, skull-like shape. Caramel began to wish dearly he hadn’t left his shield back at the mansion. “Y-you’re wrong!” He proclaimed, feeling his strength return. His stutter, however, somewhat ruined the moment. Stupid stutter, choosing the worst possible time to return! “I-I used to be a failure, b-but now I’m not! I’ve gotten b-better, a-and-” “HAH!” The grotesque, skull-like face snorted at him. “You should not think because you had a few days ov good fortune, you can escape your destiny. I vas destined for greatness, you for failure! Nothing anypony can do vill change zis. It is ze way ze world iz, Kapitaen. You should accept zis. Though it does not matter, in the end. Either vay, you shall fall.” “N-no... you’re wrong...” Caramel said, but the Red Skull’s words were striking home. Was he just deluding himself? Was he really just Caramel the failure, doomed to keep trying and trying and never succeeding? To pursue his dreams... pursue Spitfire... and never obtain them? “No, you merely vish me to be.” The Red Skull said, suddenly lashing out with a hoof. The blow was much stronger than anything Caramel could have managed, sending him crashing through the window of the flower shop. The ponies within began to panic, running for the back exit. “Sadly, Kapitaen, zere iz no genie to grant your vish.” Caramel slowly got back to his hooves, his eyes burning with determination. “You shouldn’t have pushed me into the flower shop.” He said, stamping his hoof against the floor. GROW! The flowerpots around the store suddenly exploded with thin, thorny vines, launching themselves towards the Red Skull. To Caramel’s horror, however, the monster merely laughed, the vines withering away before they even touched him. “Foolish colt. I have your magic, remember? I, too, can feel the power ov ze earth and itz’ plants. However, where you give energy and grant life, I take ze energy for myself. To sacrifice ozzers for your gain, zis is vy I am great and you?” He launched himself towards Caramel. “You are nozzing!” Caramel was fast, but the Red Skull was faster. His hooves collided with Caramel’s head, and then everything went dark. ----------------- As evening approached, Thor came in for a landing before the Avenger Mansion. Pinkie Pie was still yammering away. “-and then I said, porridge? Are you nuts? Oh! We’re here!” She hopped off of Thor’s back. “Thank Odin.” Thor whispered under his breath. Pinkie was a great friend, but she was best taken in small doses. He headed for the front door of the mansion, but stopped suddenly. “Pinkie... do you feel that?” “Feel what?” Pinkie asked breezily, bouncing for the front door. Suddenly she was stopped short by a powerful, violent shudder wracking her whole body. “Oh. That.” “Is it Loki?” Thor asked warily, raising Mjolnir, as if preparing for an attack at any moment. “Yeah... I think so.” Pinkie frowned. “Why did it take me so long to notice...?” “It matters not. Loki has infiltrated our headquarters. Stay here, Pinkie.” Thor said, advancing towards the door. “Nuh-uh! Friends always stick together!” Pinkie insisted, bouncing along beside him. “I’m coming!” Thor turned to argue, only to be met with Pinkie’s determined stare. Pinkie might be a crazy, scatterbrained goofball of a pony, but very little could stop her doing whatever she happened to set her mind to. She was something of a force of nature that way. “Very well,” Thor said with a sigh. “But be careful, and stay behind me.” Pinkie nodded solemnly, and together they entered the mansion. The entry hall had been transformed into a makeshift throne room. A long carpet ran from the door to the stairs the end of the hall, where a throne now sat. To the side of the throne lay the defeated members of the Avengers. Spitfire lay curled into a ball, crying gently, guarded by a pony with a burning skull in place of a head. Prince Blueblood twitched constantly, apparently muttering to himself. His guard was a massive suit of armor, with eyes that glowed bright red. In contrast, Caramel was completely still, staring off into the distance dully, with a pony with a face like a bright red skull standing guard nearby. What truly drew Thor’s attention, however, was Loki, lounging in the ornate throne at the foot of the stairs. Trixie lurked by his side, smirking broadly. “Hello, Thor.” Loki said casually. “So nice of you to stop by. I’ve been waiting a long time to speak to you again, brother.”