//------------------------------//
// Bonus Chapter: Falling 
// Story: Fluttershy's One True Love (Is a Minigun) 
// by DismantledAccount 
//------------------------------//

As I fall through the air, I can see my beloved. Like a delicate flower, she stands by, rooted to the ground. She is as helpless as I am, plummeting to the ground at an ever increasing speed.

I can feel the wind rushing between my many parts, cooling the heated metal. The air feels fresh, cleansing. With gentle breaths, it seems too serene. I'm tumbling, and my beloved drifts from view.

I wish I could see her again. One last time. I hope it isn’t too much to ask.

The forest around reminds me of the first time we met: she was so frightened; I was so scared. But we both overcame our fears, her sooner than I. She calmed me, sang to me. Talked to me. Soothed me. Then she carried me to her house, and I protected her. She could have left me for dead. Could have taken to the air at any time.

But she didn’t.

Her hooves shook as she struggled to hold me, but she stood by me in my time of need. Though her body was weak, her mind was strong. It held her together.

Was it all for naught?

Or even worse, will my passing hurt her in ways I can’t even begin to fathom? What if she never lays me to rest? What if she never moves on? What if she can’t forgive her friend?

I hope she will.

I couldn’t bear to see her in pain. 

She is my everything, and I would gladly give it all to see her smile. Without her, I have no purpose in the colorful world, and I would have defended her until my dying day. 

I will treasure our time together in this life and the next. I can still feel her warmth against me. Ghosts of her presence still cling to me, but the wind is blowing them away.

Returning to face her, my body spins in the air. My beloved, my flower, my Fluttershy. I lock my eyes on her, burning her into my memory. Her every detail. The wind gently tugging at her flowing mane, her flared wings, her soft coat.

She is screaming.

Closing my eyes, I imagine back to a happier time; I fill myself with memories of her smile—of her gentle laughter. If only my last glimpse of her face was not one of agony . . .

She doesn’t deserve this.

I didn’t even have time to say goodbye.