//------------------------------// // 2: Worlds Apart // Story: A King Unmatched // by Mister Friendly //------------------------------// Chapter 2: Worlds Apart The morning air was cool, made all the more-so by the thick bank of fog that creeped over the still land below without a sound. Only the palest of diffused light filtered down to the ground, turning it from an inky, impenetrable blackness to slightly more perceptible murky grey. Nothing stirred; not in the air, not in the trees… and not upon a fortified wall of stone, or the encampment it encircled. No torches were lit – none dared to – and yet the battlements were lined with sentries, all standing stalk still, exhausted eyes trying to pierce the impenetrable fog that swallowed everything mere feet out. But while their eyes were next to useless in the murk, the sentries had more senses at their disposal, and they were straining them for all they were worth. The faintest noise – be it the clink of metal links in a guard’s uniform or the distant squawk of a gull – never failed to set everypony’s nerves on edge, weary muscles tensing only to relax again a moment later, like they had been doing all night long. From his place overlooking the reinforced gates, a young stallion did his best to stifle a yawn while staying as motionless as possible. It took a great deal of willpower to keep his hoof down and jaws as tightly clenched as possible, but he somehow managed to muscle through it without his neighbor noticing. Six hours… six hours of standing on that wall, staring at fog… he’d envisioned many things when he’d been drafted into the Empire’s army, such as glory defending the realm, honor to his family name, and a life of untold adventure, but instead he got… standing motionlessly all night long, with nothing to break up the drudgery, every muscle and every sense taxed to the breaking point and liable to snap at any moment. And yet, they were all too tense to ever relax into complacency, no matter how much every one of them suffered. They were all on edge, wound so tight they felt liable to snap. Yet, one little sound… one little shift in the formless darkness beyond… and that could be all the warning they received. The untested sentry composed himself, trying to shake himself without making any sound at all; tricky to do without rattling the iron scales plating his cuirass. The next shift would be coming soon… he was sure of it… That was when something moved in the shadows. He tensed, all senses immediately reawakening on a blast of adrenaline. He caught sight of a shadow looming through the darkness on the other side of the wall, too high up to be somepony traversing the road, approaching faster than hooves could carry them. Just as he grabbed his weapon, his voice on the tip of his tongue, the assailant made itself known. In fact, it alighted nonchalantly on the battlements right in front of him, eying him speculatively in the meantime with one round yellow eye. A seagull… I’m jumping at birds, now… Again he relaxed, the grip on his polearm slackening, though this time with a hint of self-loathing. It’s… been a really long night… Without meaning to, he sighed. Only, what started as a sigh quickly turned into a big, weary yawn before he could catch it. “Private Ogata.” His neighbor had only whispered, and yet his gruff voice cut through the silence like a thunderclap. Ogata jumped, his armor rattling noisily, which in turn distracted more of his fellow sentries, much to their annoyance. The private turned his head, wincing to himself, to face his accuser. Beside him stood an old, greying unicorn. His features were weathered and worn like old granite, giving him deep lines that not even the fur on his muzzle could hide. His mane was tied over one shoulder in a thin, whip-like cord, coming to a rest against the jutting, blood-red hilt of a sword slung along his side. “Y-yes, Nakajima-sensei?” he said back, letting his voice stay as low as it wanted, which was a very quiet whisper indeed. The old veteran did not bother looking at him. He was too busy surveying the darkness with an intimidating scowl on his worn features. “Keep yourself together. Show the discipline your emperor demands of you.” Ogata winced, bigger this time, and bowed his head. “Yes, Nakajima-sensei… I won’t let it happen again.” Nakajima nodded curtly, his attention still on his duties. Ogata squirmed, watching his superior for a moment longer, before turning back to resume his vigil. He had all the reason in the world to believe that that would be the end of it; Nakajima was not one for small talk, and he never had been. In fact, that was the most he’d heard his superior officer speak at one time; to chew him out for his own weakness. So when he spoke again, it caused Ogata to jump all over again, earning him more disapproving glares. “Where are you from, private?” Nakajima asked without inflection. “O-Odo, sir,” Ogata responded reflexively and without hesitation. “Odo Island.” “… and how old are you, Private Ogata?” “Fifteen summers, sir,” Ogata responded right away again. But on the inside, he was starting to wonder where all of these questions were coming from. Whatever he’d said, however, he got the feeling that it hadn’t been the answer Nakajima had been hoping for. His grim scowl only grew grimmer, his dark green eyes – black in the gloom – drifting down to edge of the battlements thoughtfully. “Family?” “Y-yes, sir. A sister.” “Parents?” “No, sir…” Whatever Nakajima thought of that, he kept it to himself. “…A home to return to?” “… No, sir.” The grizzled old veteran didn’t say anything after that. He didn’t even seem to react. All Ogata could deduce was that his story was not the first of its kind Nakajima had heard in recent days… The younger sentry turned to his senior, watching him with apprehension for a moment. There were quite a few like him stationed at the fort with him; older, battle-hardened and weary. Those who weren’t had far more in common with Ogata than he would’ve liked. It did not do well to think on it too much, but whenever he did… It took some building up of nerve, a little second guessing, and finally a mental slap across the face, but eventually, Ogata worked up the courage to open his mouth for his own question. “Nakajima-sensei… may I ask you a question?” he asked humbly. The grim-faced stallion actually glanced his way, but otherwise did not react. “Speak, then.” “Do you think… do you think she will come as the emperor requested?” As he’d feared, a dark shadow crossed Nakajima’s face. It was almost customary for anypony to do so whenever mentioning her. But he kept himself, and his tongue, in check. “It is the emperor’s wish that she does. If the emperor orders us to ready for her arrival, then that is what we shall do.” Ogata looked away, feeling uncertain all over again. Nakajima’s words had only served to make him more uneasy than ever. “Do… you think she can stop Him?” Nakajima’s response was as short as it was cold. “I do not.” Plink. Ogata blinked, taken aback by the noise, which was quickly followed by another and another; a tapping sound that started a sporadic pitter-patter all around him on the stone battlements, on the wood planks underhoof, on his very armor… The seagull in front of him looked up, its beady eyes sweeping this way and that as if spooked by the rain. Ogata couldn’t help it; he tilted his head back and looked up into the grey sky above. Strange… there’s no wind… Whatever secrets the sky held, they were lost behind blankets of fathomless fog that encircled them. Wonderful… still more rain. As if things could not possibly get any worse… But as he stood there, squinting his eyes against the stingingly cold rain spitting in his face, he couldn’t help but let is superior’s words drift through his mind. The emperor would not summon the Sun Stealer if he thought she would be of no use to us. He must believe that she can help, somehow. I have faith in his wisdom, but… I am not sure how much longer we can last… Ogata was abruptly pulled back to reality when the seagull perching in front of him squawked, loud and shrill. All of a sudden, it was in the air, wings beating madly through the air as it took off in the opposite direction Ogata was facing, as if its life depended on it. The bird had hardly taken its first flap when the first rumble of thunder echoed across the heavens. The young sentry blinked, watching the bird as it vanished quickly into the mists. I pray she gets here soon… before things do find a way to get worse… ~~***~~ Meanwhile, half a world away, a train was coming to a screeching stop at a crowded platform. To many who looked at it, it was merely another stream engine rolling in from further inland, not too different from the others coming and going on the neighboring tracks lining the expansive station. But it wasn’t the train that mattered as much as the six mares and baby dragon who stepped off of it. Even then, they were virtually lost to the crowd of finely dressed travelers pushing to make their train or hurrying to get off of it. “Okay,” said Twilight in her most business-like manner, all the while struggling to be heard over the boisterous activity on the platform. “Here’s the plan. Princess Celestia has arranged for us to meet somepony who will see us to the docks down by the bay. Once we’re there, we’ll get underway as soon as possible, and with any luck, we’ll be in Neighpon in two days.” Rainbow raised an eyebrow at her. “Two days? Doesn’t that seem kind of… short?” Twilight shrugged. “That’s what the princess told us to expect. Still, we shouldn’t hang around here any longer than we have to.” Rarity turned then, looking slightly appalled. “Darling… are you telling me we’ve traveled halfway across Equestria – to Los Pegasus, no less! – and we aren’t even going to spend some time sightseeing?” “What’s the big deal?” drawled Rainbow, rolling her eyes. “We’ve already been to Manehattan and Canterlot. One big city’s as good as another.” There were a great many things Rarity wished to say to that, none of which would’ve been pleasant to hear. Her spluttering did, however, buy Twilight the time she needed to speak her response before their conversation got off track. “I’m sorry, Rarity – maybe on the way back. We need to set sail before the sun sets, or else we’ll never be able to leave today. And I don’t want to keep the Neighponese ponies waiting any longer than we have to make them.” “I… suppose that is true,” Rarity begrudgingly admitted, but her demeanor made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t about to get over it. Similarly, Rainbow didn’t seem too thrilled at their future prospects, but for a distinctly different reason. “I’m still not sold on this whole ‘sailing across the super-dangerous murder-sea’ idea,” she pointed out, turning this time to Twilight. “How are we supposed to know that this one boat can do what hundreds of ours couldn’t?” Twilight, however, didn’t have any more information than Rainbow did. On the other hoof, she seemed to have one thing the brazen pegasus seemed to be lacking; optimism. “If Princess Celestia says it can be done, I’m sure it can. We just have to have faith, Rainbow.” “Ever hear of ‘famous last words’?” Twilight just rolled her eyes, deciding not to dignify that with an answer, as she led the way into the bright sunlight outside. ~~***~~ There were many misconceptions about Los Pegasus floating around Equestria. Some said it was a jewel in the desert; a home of debauchery and excess for those rich enough to afford it, or those foolish enough to be tempted by it. For others, it was the backbone of Equestria’s financial might; an industrial and trade hub without peer in the nation. From entertainment to manufacturing, artisans to aristocracy, Los Pegasus would have it all for anypony who was anypony. Whatever Los Pegasus was, however, one thing could not be denied; it was extravagant. Golden skyscrapers reached towards the sky; towards a theme park crafted of clouds and rainbows visible to anypony anywhere in the city. Above everypony’s heads, cloud homes and observatories littered the sky, providing some much-appreciated shade from the blistering midsummer sun. Down below, block after block of endless businesses, factories and apartment complexes stretched in every direction like some kind of circuit board made of gold, stone and glass, all neatly organized in their places. But the first thing Twilight and company saw the moment they stepped out into the sweltering heat was not the grand, almost garish vista of Los Pegasus. It was what lay behind its many skyscrapers, down at the foot of the sloping city. There, maybe five miles away, was the limitless, peerless expanse of sapphire; the endless, serene ocean, extending without impediment until it vanished around the curvature of the very world itself. Twilight had seen the ocean before. Her visit to Manehattan along with her friends saw to that. But she couldn’t deny that there was something almost… enchanting about the sea she now laid eyes on, and for a moment, she understood why so many had been willing to risk its dangers, just for a taste of its briny beauty. But then she was called back to awareness by a voice – one that called her name. “Princess Twilight! Princess Twilight!” When she heard that voice calling her name like that, the alicorn princess in question became acutely aware of several things. Firstly, she noticed what awaited them at the foot of the train station’s steps. On any day, one or two royal guards would’ve been conspicuous. A full platoon in full ceremony attire was leaps and bounds worse. There must’ve been twelve of them, all waiting in disciplined formation in front of not one, but several carriages manned by still more guards – pegasi, who still somehow found a way to twist themselves in their harnesses far enough to give a respectful bow of the head to the stunned princess. Secondly, Twilight couldn’t help but notice how, on the mentioning of her title, the entire hustle and bustle coming in and out of the station ground to a complete and total halt. She could practically feel a hundred pairs of eyes turning in unison towards her, as if suddenly realizing just who she was. One of the bodyguards waiting for them – the one responsible for calling out her name, actually – stepped forward and took a deep bow of respect. “Princess Twilight, Princess Celestia sent word of your arrival not long ago. At her request, we are to accompany you and your friends to your destination in a timely manner.” Even with an explanation readily given to her, Twilight still found herself floundering for an appropriate response. “I… r-really? There are… more of you than I thought there’d be.” The stallion didn’t seem fazed by Twilight’s comment. “The princess specifically asked for a sizeable escort.” He then paused, turning his eyes up questioningly towards Twilight. “I… hope that will not be too much of an inconvenience for you, Your Highness.” Honestly, Twilight was having mixed feelings about the rather sizeable reception. She’d been assuming things would be handled more low-key than this. Already ponies were whispering all around her, the new center of attention on the block. Whatever Princess Celestia was playing at, however, she didn’t know, and wouldn’t get the chance to ask, either. Because before she could open her mouth to actually say something, she was interrupted by Rarity instead. “Of course not!” she chided, as if the guard’s concern was ludicrous. “It’s no inconvenience at all! This is all just such a surprise, that’s all.” Twilight turned to her friend, a little taken aback. “Rarity, what are you…?” Before she could finish, the fashionista leaned in closer for a private aside. “If Princess Celestia went to the trouble to prepare something like this for us, there has got to be a reason, don’t you think? Best not to trip over the smaller details just yet, darling.” Admittedly, she had a point. Though, even so, Twilight couldn’t help but find herself looking over the rather large escort, and even with Rarity’s point made, she still felt just a little uneasy. ~~***~~ As one would imagine for the Guard, it took them hardly any time at all to acquire the six mares’ luggage and safely stow it before any of them could get fully situated in their seats. Even Pinkie’s absurdly oversized case made it in a timely manner – even if it had to be strapped to the top of one of the carriages so many times and with so much braided rope that one might’ve thought the Guard feared it might run away of its own accord otherwise. The group had to split up into groups; one in the front carriage, one in the middle, and the remainder of their detail in the back. While Twilight, Spike, Rarity and Applejack took the middle, Rainbow, Pinkie and Fluttershy claimed the front-most carriage, decided in an ill-advised game of rock-paper-scissors, at the conclusion of which everypony was convinced everypony else had cheated. Twilight was all-too happy to get underway, especially when she noticed a carriage bearing the logo of a news agency come barreling around a corner down the street and start charging in their direction. But the paparazzi hardly got more chance than one or two hastily snapped pictures before Twilight, her friends and their extensive security detail were taking to the skies. Within moments, they were out of range of even the best cameras, all three carriages moving in formation with pegasi escorts on all sides, all of whom keeping a sharp eye out for any particularly cheeky photographer hoping to get the shot of a lifetime. Most of Twilight’s friends didn’t even seem to notice, however. Rarity stayed plastered to the window, occasionally oohing and awing at the sights as they passed by below. “Oh! I can see Tinseltown from here! And is that… it is! Multiversal Studios! I knew it! Rainbow must be having a cow right now!” Spike was right there beside her, but whether he was actually involved in the sightseeing or simply pretending to be for Rarity’s benefit, Twilight didn’t have the will to find out. Speaking of whom, Twilight wasn’t nearly as interested in the scenery below. She had more pressing matters on her mind than spotting some landmark or another. Across from her, Applejack seemed just as uninclined to look out a window, but for a different reason altogether. For some reason, she was watching the ceiling of the plush carriage unblinkingly, and with an unusually intense stare, and seemed to be refusing to let her gaze drift down by even the smallest degree. Her shoulders were tense, her jaw taut, her hooves crossed across her body tightly. “Are you alright, Applejack?” Twilight asked curiously – and worriedly. Applejack didn’t glance in her direction, but she did huff through her nostrils slightly. “Just fine. Yep. Ain’t got nothin’ ta do with flyin’, so don’t ya even start askin’ about that.” “But I didn’t say…” “Good. Cuz it don’t. flyin’ Ah mean. It don’t bother me one bit.” Now Twilight was getting the distinct impression that Applejack was keeping her eyes away from hers for a new reason. “O…kay then…” The tense farmer didn’t feel much like saying anything further, despite the worried look Twilight was giving her. So instead, she turned that concern towards the one sitting next to Applejack; a fully plated royal guard, sitting in stoic, unmoving silence. That is, until he saw Twilight look towards him. “Sir, will it take us long to reach the docks?” she asked. “Not long,” the guard responded politely. “A few more minutes at the most.” “Good…” Twilight sighed. For a long time, silence ruled for those not currently plastered to a window. Rarity and Spike were in their own little world, and never noticed the rather awkward silence that had come to fill the rest of the carriage. Twilight used that time to do what she did most and started to think. In the back of her mind, she was beginning to feel a familiar sensation of nerves; a mixture of anxiety and stress that felt like some kind of volatile concoction circulating through her veins. Something was wrong with this whole situation, even if it seemed like she was the only one paying attention to it. Just why had Celestia called for such a large guard detail? Did she know something Twilight did not? Possibilities ran like little gremlins through her mind, unsettling her. Even the ridiculous ones seemed worth a second opinion. She was just going over the possibility of some assassination plot she was unaware of when she felt it; a tickling, bizarre sensation like her insides were trying to levitate inside of her. While Applejack stifled a yelp and dug her hooves into the bench seat, the guard next to her broke his stoicism just long enough to say. “Looks like we’re coming down. We should be arriving soon.” Twilight nodded… then noticed how quiet Rarity and Spike had become. She looked over, confused, to find Rarity still at the same window, hooves pressed against the frame and nose mere millimeters away from the glass. Yet, now she’d fallen completely mute, her body so motionless it was as if time had stopped around her. “Rarity?” Twilight spoke up, a little apprehensive. “Is… everything okay?” The pearly unicorn heard her – she could tell, because her snow-white ear spanned around to regard her when she spoke. But otherwise, Rarity did not seem to respond, until… “…Darling… I think you really need to see this.” “Like, right now,” Spike added. Twilight felt a lump forming in her throat. All of her apprehension and worries were suddenly coming screaming back to bother her even more. Even Applejack couldn’t resist but to look over, looking like some mare in a horror movie trying very hard not to look at the monster standing right next to her. “What… is it?” Twilight asked. This time, Spike actually tore himself away from the window and turned to look at her, his eyes wide. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” ~~***~~ Despite the dark reputation of the eastern sea, the coast off of Los Pegasus was no stranger to ships. So long as they stayed without eyesight of the shore, nopony had anything to fear, and to most, the threat posed by deeper waters never made it into the forefront of their minds. From the yachts of the rich and famous to massive barges laden with goods coming and going from Van Hoover and Tall Tale or down south to distant shores, the narrow strip of sparkling ocean within eyesight of the coast played host to some of the largest ships ever seen by Equestrian eyes. But none quite matched the behemoth moored amongst even the largest and burliest of cargo liners. It stood taller than any of its neighbors, a colossus of dark wood and wrought iron the likes of which had never been seen before on these shores. Either side of the extensive ship’s dark wooden hull was lined with two rows of windowless hatches, the purpose of which were lost on most of the peace-loving ponies that happened upon the gigantic vessel. Less mysterious was the show’s bow. The entire front of it was plated in armoring thicker than most ponies were long and sported long, wickedly pointed rivets that looked sharp enough to skewer a dragon. The whole bow was angled like a sharp V, enough so that there was no doubt that anything unfortunate enough to get in the vessel’s way would not win the confrontation. Even more sinister was the long, flanged javelin tip jutting from a hole in the face of the prow; a javelin longer than a hydra’s neck, covered in more barbs and cutting edges than a store full of cutlery. Why anypony would ever need such an oversized implement of destruction was anypony’s guess, but most had the distinct impression it wasn’t for fishing. Yet, the most eye-catching feature of the ship wasn’t its bristling armaments. It was the golden figurehead covering the prow, from whose mouth the oversized javelin jutted. It seemed to be some kind of monster, broad of chest and short of snout, with a maw full of slanted back, razor-sharp teeth. Curved, serrated fins lined the upper edges of the prow, looking almost like individual tongues of fire when they glinted wickedly in the sun. With the javelin positioned where it was, it was as if whatever manner of beast the figurehead was supposed to be was breathing fire, its face contorted into a grimace of pure, burning rage. The opposite end of the ship was covered in a rooster-tail of fin-shaped, dark burgundy sails. Yet, though Twilight was no expert, they seemed to be far too few, and far too small, to sail a vessel as immense as that. This was one of the many things that struck Twilight as her carriage descended onto the pier, drawing the eye of many of the already gawking sailors. But more than that, she couldn’t help but eye that figurehead, her gut twisting uncomfortably. Whatever manner of beast that was meant to represent, she certainly didn’t want to find herself on the receiving end of it. “Is that… a warship?” Spike spoke aloud, his voice filled with equal parts amazement and trepidation. “I guess so,” Twilight mumbled. “I mean, what else could it be?” Twilight herself had never seen anything like it. At least, anything not hanging in an art gallery or adorning the wall of some museum. Equestria certainly had no need for battleships; a peaceful country like it would simply have no use for one. But now here she was, not looking at some piece of an ancient galleon in a display case or an artist’s rendition of a naval battle; she was looking upon the real thing, a ship built for the singular purpose of battle, and nothing else, moored alongside rugged cargo barges. Beside her, Rarity shifted uncomfortably, a troubled look scrunching her brow together. “I’m starting to think that Princess Celestia was right. The Empire of the Sun is a very… different place.” Privately, Twilight agreed, though she wished that she didn’t. As she looked at the imperial warship, however, another thought occurred to her, one that made her feel even worse. If the ship is like this… what are the sailors like? With that less-than encouraging thought, the carriage came to a jolting halt, literally knocking her out of her inner workings. The moment they’d come to a complete halt, Applejack was immediately at the door and pushing it open before anypony was even out of their seats. “Welp, let’s get to it and find out fer ourselves,” she announced, before jumping out onto the ground beyond. Twilight and Rarity exchanged a look, a shrug, and then made to follow their totally not relieved earth pony friend out into the stifling heat outside. ~~***~~ The guards had parked their convoy in the behemoth vessel’s shadow, providing some shelter from the beating sun in the sky. Of course, that also meant that there was a towering war machine looming over them, dark and foreboding. Up close, it seemed even bigger, if such a thing were possible, a fortress of wood and metal rivets bobbing just off the pier. Again Twilight found herself questioning how the thing had even managed to reach Equestria under its own power while having only a few meager sails to speak of. Magic, maybe… or maybe some kind of steam engine… As she stood there, her neck craned almost straight up to look at the towering ship, the rest of her friends sauntered up on either side of her, similarly gazing up at their destination. Rainbow couldn’t help but whistle slightly, looking impressed. “Okay, I’m starting to feel a little better about this whole sailing thing.” “It’s everythin’ else that’s startin’ ta worry me,” Applejack concluded, eyeing the tip of the warship’s seemingly impractically large harpoon. “These ponies ain’t strikin’ me as the most friendly of folks.” “Don’t you think they could’ve chosen a more… diplomatic vessel for the first mission to Equestria is over six hundred years?” Rarity said, looking just as unsure as the rest of her friends. “And would it kill them to throw on a little color at the very least? I’ve seen funerals with more pizazz than this… thing.” “It’s so… so… big,” mumbled Fluttershy, somehow managing to keep her head down and eyes up at the same time. Mostly, her eyes stayed pinned to that figurehead, a slight tremble running down her spine at the same time. “Maybe we shouldn’t judge them too harshly,” Twilight tried to mediate, though even she found herself with a fair bit of trepidation, especially considering the evidence they were standing in the shadow of. “I bet they’re not really all that bad.” “I’m with ya, Twi,” Applejack said, all the while crooking her eyebrow as high up as it could go. “But the Neighponese are makin’ it real hard ta see things that way.” “I just want to know what they use that for,” Rainbow commented, pointing up at the javelin tip. “You could take down ten dragons with something that big. Er, no offense, Spike.” “Actually, I was thinking about the same thing,” replied the baby dragon, stroking his chin speculatively. “But you know… if the Empire has weapons like this…” All six mares turned to look at one another, each expression they turned to looking just as disturbed as the last. “… Why turn to us in the first place?” Twilight finished. When she looked back up at the imposing war machine, she couldn’t help but feel a twisting sensation in her gut. Somehow she knew, even then, that something wasn’t right; that maybe, just maybe, they were up against something none of them were prepared for… “Your Highness.” Twilight started, snapping back to reality. She found herself confronted by the same guard that’d ridden in the carriage with them – one virtually identical to his white-coated comrades, save for his striking golden eyes. He wasn’t alone, either. The rest of his squad had formed up and was standing at attention behind him. When Twilight turned towards him, he bowed respectfully before straightening up. “Princess Celestia asked that we accompany you in meeting the Imperials,” he said humbly. Something in his statement caught Twilight’s attention, drawing forth a thoughtful frown. “Did she say why?” she asked. “She did not,” the guard informed her. “We were only given our assignment, and this.” As soon as he was finished speaking, he lifted a hoof up to the collar of his armored uniform, fished around for a moment, and then extracted something; a small, slightly bent but otherwise unblemished white envelope bearing the unmistakable wax seal of the Royal Pony Sisters, something Twilight could’ve recognized from the other end of the pier. Without a word, the guard handed the letter over, releasing it to Twilight’s telekinetic grip. She turned it this way and that, curious, but could find nothing of note. “What’s in it?” she asked. “A letter to the captain of this vessel,” the guard responded, “penned by the princess herself. I imagine it is to explain her absence, but I do not presume to know for sure.” Twilight considered the guard’s words, a pensive look on her face. She eyed the letter again, only this time, there was an idea forming in the back of her mind that began to fill in a lot of the recent holes she’d been running into. “Is everything alright, darling?” Rarity asked, and judging by her voice, she was starting to get concerned for another reason. Twilight frowned, then nodded. “Yes, but I think I know what’s going on here…” ~~***~~ Around the other side of the towering warship, Twilight and company located the only means of boarding said towering warship; a long, riveted gangplank. As they rounded the mighty bow, however, Twilight couldn’t help but keep her gaze trained upwards, eyes peeled for any signs of movement around the edge of the deck and extensive gunwale. But there was none to be had. Come to think of it, when they’d been coming in for a landing, she hadn’t seen anything moving on the deck at all. It was a little perturbing, and it did nothing to ease her mounting tensions. She was the first to reach the gangplank, and not by accident. Twilight intentionally put herself there, her friends immediately at her back, the procession of guards at the rear, but far from out of sight. If she’d figured out Celestia’s intentions, that was where they needed to be for this to work. “Okay, just let me do the talking,” Twilight said, glancing over her shoulder. Her friends didn’t answer in response, but that may have been because they were suddenly very interested at the other end of the walkway; so much so, that both Rarity and Fluttershy missed a step. Twilight blinked, then turned back around. And there, standing as if he’d been waiting there the whole time for them, stood an Imperial pony. At least, Twilight thought it was a pony. The face looking back at her seemed to be that of some kind of snarling beast with a face full of pointed and curved fangs. The strange thing was, however, that its entire face gleamed in the sunlight like it was made from steel; like, Twilight realized, some kind of metal visor. That would explain the large, dark holes where the eyes should be. The entire front of the creature was adorned with a field of silvery scales and plate. In fact, the only thing visible of the actual pony was his dusky blue ears poking up through slots in his helmet. He did not make a very inviting figure to approach, not with the wrathful snarl his helmet was giving the world, which made climbing the gangplank all the more challenging for Twilight. Yet he stood in silence the whole while, watching the procession approach. As they drew nearer, Twilight could’ve sworn she heard voices, whispering at the top of the walkway. About halfway up, she realized that one of the speakers was the very pony standing in front of her, his tinny voice muttering to somepony standing slightly behind him. Twilight didn’t let herself falter and continued to step closer – until made to do otherwise. “Stop!” commanded the knight barring their way, and everypony immediately hastened to do just that. He spoke with a strange accent, one that Twilight had never heard before. It was thick and blunt, making it clear that Equestrian was not the language he usually spoke. “You! Pony!” he barked, “This is Imperial ship. What bring you here? State your business, now!” His voice was loud and powerful, like the blows of a hammer at a forge. They came out quick and precise, and try as she might, Twilight couldn’t help but quail for a moment, if only a minute one. “We’re here under orders of Princess Celestia,” she answered, trying to match the Imperial’s loud volume, but without much success. “We’re here to help save your country.” The Imperial was silent for a long time, for most of which Twilight felt like she was being sized up. Again she heard an unseen voice from further along the deck speaking in a language she did not recognize, to which the guard responded. Somewhere along his response, Twilight heard a familiar name –“Celestia”. He must’ve been repeating everything she told him to the rest of the crew. After he was done relaying Twilight’s own words, the Imperial refocused back on her, yet he did not step aside or budge in any way. “Emperor Kirin make request for Celestia. We wait for her, not kids.” “Kids?” Rainbow repeated, swelling indignantly. Thankfully, Rarity was quick enough to stuff a hoof in her mouth before she could get too carried away. “You go now,” the Imperial commanded, thrusting a hoof back the way Twilight and her company had come. “Bring princess. We have no business with you.” “But we’re here to help!” Pinkie protested. Again, Rarity stuffed her other hoof in the noisy pony’s mouth, though at this rate she was going to run out of them very quickly. Twilight frowned at the guard. So far things weren’t off to the best start. And yet, they were going exactly like she’d thought they might. “Well then, you’re in luck,” she said, trying to sound as cheerful as she could, all things considered. “I just so happen to be a princess myself.” Even if Twilight couldn’t see the Imperial’s face, she could very easily imagine the skeptical look she was getting. So, before he could say anything to the same effect, Twilight abruptly unfurled her wings and raised her head, all the while standing up as tall as she could just to make sure he didn’t miss anything. She could tell she’d taken the guard by surprise, because he suddenly froze, and then made a quick, hasty comment to somepony behind him, not bothering to keep his voice down this time. “I may not look like much,” Twilight spoke up, driving the stallion to silence as he listened, “but I am Princess Celestia’s personal student and a newly coroneted princess of Equestria. So, if you’ve been waiting for one, well here I am.” She then turned around, looking past her slightly awe-struck friends. “Is that correct, Royal Guard?” And all in unison, all twelve guardsponies barked out, “Yes, Your Highness Princess Twilight!” The Imperial stared at them all, his helmet turning slightly to take in the scene. Then he redirected his attention back towards Twilight, and gestured with a hoof. “These… your guards?” “Escort,” Twilight corrected, “but yes, they are. Only these six will be coming with me, though.” She gestured towards her friends, including Spike, who’d gone almost entirely unnoticed by the Imperial until then. When he saw Spike, his gaze lingered for a moment, pausing. Then, he looked back towards Twilight again. “Where is Celestia?” To that, Twilight levitated over the letter without comment. The Imperial snatched it up, and in one move, he sliced open the top with one of the jutting fangs on his visor, cutting it open cleaner than a letter-opener. With that unsettling action finished, he reached in with one hoof and yanked out the small piece of parchment and started to read. It hardly took him any time at all, since he then glanced up, as if sizing up the mares in front of him. It was a while longer before he snapped out of it, long enough for Twilight to wonder just what Celestia had written. Then, without warning, he turned around and swept away, shouting something in a foreign tongue that came out like a bark before adding, “You, come! We leave now, before sunset!” Twilight couldn’t help but feel taken aback. That was it? Just like that? Exactly what had Celestia written in that letter? She was distracted, however, by a sudden explosion of noise on top of the ship’s deck. All of a sudden, she could hear voices, clattering, the sound of frenetic activity taking place. And when she stepped up onto the gangplank’s landing, her friends close behind her, she saw why. A dozen ponies were all scrambling across the deck, hastening to their stations and quickly setting about tending to their duties. From stern to bow, it was a scene of hectic activity as a small army of stallions made ready to sail. “What the hay just happened?” Rainbow asked, having extracted Rarity’s hoof. “Honestly, Rainbow,” Twilight said with nothing but sincerity, “I haven’t got the faintest clue.” She then turned, looking past her friends to, instead, the guards standing behind them. Some, she noticed, had broken away, and were now scrambling back towards the carriages – and towards the group’s awaiting luggage. “Thank you, guards,” Twilight said. “I don’t think this would’ve been that easy if you all hadn’t been here. Somehow, I get the feeling Princess Celestia knew that it might take something extra to convince these guys.” The guards bowed humbly. “It is our pleasure to serve, Your Highness,” she said. Twilight tried not to squirm in response, but she couldn’t quite keep her discomfort hidden. It was responses like that one that kept reminding her how unaccustomed to the life of a princess she really was. “But this is as far as we go with you,” The guard added, sounding noticeably regretful. “Our duties keep us here. Even if…” He glanced up towards the deck. Though he was in no position to actually see the cause of the ruckus there, he could still hear it, and there was a definite frown on his face because of it. “… I am of the opinion we could be of better use elsewhere. We are duty-bound, nonetheless.” Twilight gave the guard a reassuring smile, even if she couldn’t help but share some of his concern. “It’s alright, sir. Princess Celestia believes we can handle this mission on our own, and if she believes in us, so do I.” In response, the guard did something that Twilight had never, in her history of knowing the Royal Guard – with one exception, of course – seen a guard do. The stallion looked at her, and actually smiled. “Then we are of the same mind, Your Highness. I will pray for the safe return of yourself and your friends, and I will wish you good luck on your mission.” To that, a brash pegasus snorted almost derisively. “Hey, no sweat; when you’ve got someone this awesome on your side, you don’t need luck,” Rainbow said, rising into the air to flap blithely right over Twilight’s head and onto the ship proper. “Even so,” the guard said, his voice warming in an attempt to stifle what might’ve been a laugh, “I wish you luck even if – as I pray it will be – you won’t need it.” Twilight smiled back, and was about to say something in response, when another voice cut across from behind. She turned to find the armored Imperial from before motioning in their direction, his voice sounding irritated. “No more talk! We leave now! No time left!” Spike, who’d been standing next to Twilight, looked his direction, frowning. “Geez, somepony’s in a hurry.” Twilight couldn’t necessarily blame him, though. If anypony had a reason to be in a rush, the Imperials definitely did. “Then we will take our leave,” the guard said, drawing Twilight’s attention back to him. He bowed respectfully. “I will inform the princesses that you are safely on your way.” “Thank you,” Twilight said. “We should be back in a couple of days, if everything goes well.” “Then I will look forward to your safe return,” the guard responded. He gave one more bow, and then turned to leave. Twilight watched him go, as did her friends. They watched as the platoon formed up again on the pier below, but didn’t leave. They merely stood by the carriages, watching the boat from a distance, awaiting their departure. “C’mon, everypony,” Applejack said softly, nudging Twilight. “We’ll be back before we can miss anythin’.” “I hope so,” Pinkie said, and to Twilight’s surprise, she actually sounded slightly anxious. Come to think of it, Pinkie had been unusually quiet for some time now; most unusual for the bubbly mare. When Twilight turned to look at her, she found Pinkie staring at over Los Pegasus, towards the fiery horizon at its back. The sun was coming down, turning the world a burning orange color as if bathed in the light of a torch. “Pound and Pumpkin better behave,” she said, as if to herself. “They get cranky sometimes, and I dunno if mister and missus Cake can handle them when they get really fussy.” Twilight looked up, catching Applejack’s eye, who shrugged helplessly. Then, she put a hoof around the pink pony’s shoulders. “C’mon now, sugarcube, don’t start worryin’ yet. We ain’t even set off yet. Everythin’s goin’ ta be right where ya left it when ya get back.” Pinkie turned to her, looking uncertain. “Promise?” “Cross my heart,” Applejack chuckled, squeezing her. She then let her go and stepped away from the gangplank, out onto the deck proper, hoisting her pack a little across her back. “Now come on, everypony. We got a few days of sailin’ ahead of us, so we might as well get comfy while we can.” Twilight was about to respond to that, when a subtle chuckle caught her attention. She looked around, her eyes settling on a nearby Imperial sailor untying a length of rope from the prow. “Silly pony,” he chuckled darkly, glancing over at the group. “We no sail. You crazy pony if you think that. We not make it far, I tell you that for sure.” Applejack hadn’t been so far away that she hadn’t heard his comment. She rounded on him, raising a critical eyebrow at the black-toothed grin she was getting. He really wasn’t the most handsome of stallions; his coat was matted and scraggly and his mane was tied back helter-skelter in a series of short braids. Dental hygiene didn’t seem to be something he believed in either, considering he hardly had any teeth to speak of, and those that did occupy his mouth were not a pretty sight. “Beg pardon?” Applejack asked, less bothered by the stallion’s mangy look and more by his comment. The Imperial cackled again, untying another length of rope, all the while watching Applejack out of the corner of his eye. “Many nasty things in sea. Very big, very hungry. Sail through water, and we never go far.” He cackled again, a sound that was quickly grating upon the ponies’ nerves. The rest of Applejack’s friends exchanged confused looks, uncomprehending. In the end, it was Rainbow who spoke up first. “Then… how are we supposed to get across the sea?” No sooner had she asked, however, than the boat lurched unexpectedly, as if struck by a mighty wake. Somepony shouted, a call that was repeated from one end of the boat to the other. And as they all stood there, a loud humming reached their ears; a humming that seemed to correspond with an unnatural tingling that tickled up each of their legs. Again the boat lurched, the back end rising higher than the front. Only… it wasn’t coming back down. The Imperial sailor leered a black, mostly toothless grin at the shocked looks on all six faces in front of him. “Stupid pony. We not sailing on ocean. We sailing over ocean.” Applejack stared at him, a look of incomprehension on her face. Yet, the longer she stared at him, the steadier her face got more and more pale. “Beg… Pardon?” The sailor never had to answer further. With a great groan from the hull, the mighty battleship rose up into the air. The sails on its aft section fanned out, turning from a rooster tail to more of a peacock’s. An order was barked by the armored Imperial, which was relayed at least twice more across the deck, and suddenly the ship began to turn. All the while, the ship was rising. Up, up, higher and higher, until it overshadowed the tallest crane on the pier. Twilight and her friends watched in amazement as the city – and ocean – fell away far below them. And as the ship’s snarling nose pointed out over the vast, unending sea and the darkening horizon far beyond, another order was given, which was echoed across the deck again. Something made a heavy, metallic grinding sound deep within the bowls of the ship, reverberating up towards the deck. And suddenly, they were moving. Not fast at first, but rapidly picking up speed as the ship’s prow pointed still higher into the sky. Twilight could only stare in wonder as the airship soared through the air, effortless despite its bulk, leaving the land far below. Only the sound of the sailor’s voice drew her back to her surroundings. “Oh, and you not get introduction, either,” the sailor cackled. He stood up, then made a grand display of a sweeping bow, too grandiose to be genuine. “Welcome, princess, to our Amaterasu.” He glanced up, grinning wickedly. “I hope you enjoy your stay. You likely not get another, where we going.” Twilight’s gut twisted uncomfortably. Already, she was very much not liking this pony. Instead of responding, however, she was distracted instead by the sight beyond him and the ship itself. Her eyes fell on Los Pegasus, and the coast of Equestria itself – now growing smaller and smaller, fainter and fainter as they raced away over the ocean. Soon, the glitter of glass from the skyscrapers was too distant to properly make out. It hit her then, like a sledgehammer to the chest. Everything she knew, everypony she knew, was back there. And with each passing second, the distance between them grew larger, the accustomed sights of hills and greenery just a little less distinct. Where she and her friends were going, there would be no friendly faces. There would be nothing familiar. Where they were going… they’d be on their own. A feeling of something brushing against her side distracted her, making her jump. Twilight looked, and found Fluttershy standing, quiet as ever, beside her, sapphire eyes similarly trained upon the disappearing sight of home. On the pegasus’ other side, Rarity watched as well, her expression impassive, giving her a look of supreme indifference. Something bumped into Twilight’s other side, and she looked around to find Pinkie – not looking out over the edge of the ship, but at her instead, a big smile on her face for the first time since arriving. She didn’t say anything, instead merely grinning without a word. Beside her stood Rainbow, looking slightly bored, all things considered. Even Applejack was there, her eyes focused rather intensely on the sight of the fading coastline, as if trying to block out the sight of everything else. And then there was Spike, who startled Twilight by clambering up onto her back to assume his old, familiar perch to watch Equestria disappear over the horizon. Twilight turned to give each of her friends a look in turn, and with each familiar face she saw, the sense of unease in her heart withdrew. She and her friends were on their own. But they were on their own together. Already they’d overcome so many obstacles, triumphed over so many trials. Whatever awaited them in Neighpon and the Empire of the Sun, she knew in her heart that they would not fail in their mission. As long as her friends were with her, there wasn’t anything that could get in their way. ~~***~~ Ogata shivered as subtly as he could, trying desperately to warm up. The rain had been coming down constantly for nearly an hour, growing harder and harder as time trickled by. Fueled further by the condensation already in the air, each droplet was fat and harsh, striking Ogata’s back, shoulders and head hard enough for him to feel each impact even through the thicker parts of his armor. The most frustrating thing was that the gate next to him had an arched roof over it, providing merciful shelter for the few sentries lucky enough to be posted in its shadow. He, unfortunately, had not been one of them. It may have only been a few feet to one side, but with Nakajima-sensei not far away, it was a few feet too far. His only saving grace was that he was on the right side of the gate to use it as a shelter from the gusting wind. Again thunder boomed across the sky, lightning flashing dully through the mist and fog to turn Ogata’s surroundings from dark, murky grey to only slightly less dark and murky. Still, Ogata was approaching the breaking point; he could feel it. Standing guard all night long, and now for most of the morning as well, in sheeting rain, all the while expected to keep an unwavering vigil for the faintest sign of danger. But aside from his close encounter with a renegade bird, he’d yet to see more than the fog and a few distant treetops. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a little excitement… Anything to break up this drudgery… That was precisely the moment when he heard something rustle in the dark. He hadn’t been the only one to hear it, either. Ogata heard the sounds of clinking armor as sentries tensed, one readying his spear. Off to his other side, Nakajima straightened up, his horn glimmering faintly in the dark, a sea green aura around the hilt of his sheathed weapon which had yet to be produced. Already Ogata’s heart was hammering in his chest, his grip on his own weapon tightening as he turned to stare intently into the fog… In a flash something came screaming out of the dark at him, moving faster than he could react. It veered wildly, avoiding him by inches as it streaked on by, producing a panicked squawk. Another gull? Ogata thought, but no sooner did he do so than another caw rang through the silence, another white shadow whipping past his head. Followed by another, and another, and another… Ogata couldn’t see all of them, not until he looked up, drawn by the sounds overhead. But he could hear them, there was no doubt about that. Above, he saw an immense shadow moving through the thinner layer of mists; a shadow not made up of a single entity, but hundreds, all flapping, squawking and cawing in utter, mindless terror… and all fleeing in the same direction, en masse. Another crack of thunder sounded, so loud and so close it shook the stone beneath his feet with the force of it. It seemed to split the heavens, leaving a persistent ringing in Ogata’s ears that lingered long after the cacophonous thunderclap had finished echoing across the sky. “The storm is getting worse,” called Nakajima, giving Ogata a start. He had to shout to be heard over the most recent gust of wind that pummeled the gatehouse, making its wooden beams creak slightly. “Should we find shelter, Nakajima-sensei?” asked Ogata, speaking over the howl of wind. “Wait out the storm?” “No!” his superior snapped back. “Our orders are to watch this wall for any sign of the ship’s return!” Ogata turned to look at Nakajima, something on the tip of his tongue he hadn’t fully evaluated yet. Perhaps it was the long, arduous night and torturous morning he’d been through that finally snapped him. Perhaps it was something else – something more primal that rattled inside of him like a bird wanting to escape with the gulls flocking overhead. But whatever it was, he found himself on the verge of doing something he never imagined he would do; questioning his superior’s actions. And he very well would’ve done it to – and likely earned himself the worst reprimand of his entire life, if not worse – if something else hadn’t caught his eye. Nakajima’s horn wasn’t emitting a steady light like unicorn horns were supposed to. It flickered and guttered like a torch, the light of magic around the handle of his weapon similarly wavering. It came in spurts, dimming and brightening sporadically without rhyme or reason, like the storm winds blustering through all around them. For some reason, that was distracting enough to completely derail Ogata’s failing patience, replacing it instead with worry. “Nakajima-sensei, are you alright?” he asked, still watching the old veteran’s horn. Nakajima glanced at him, looking puzzled, then caught sight of the magic gripping his sword’s hilt. Yet, the look he gave it was just as perplexed as Ogata’s was. It lasted only a second, however, before he was recomposing himself. “Focus, Private Ogata,” he snapped. “It does not matter. I’m –” Whatever he was, Ogata never found out. For at that moment, with both stallions look at each other, a new sound cut through the rainy, foggy morning air, one louder and more resounding than any thunderbolt. It was a low, resounding bellow, like the blowing of a distant war horn that rang out far and wide for all to hear. Everypony on the wall fell dead silent, motionless now for a whole new reason. The only sound to be heard was the rain pounding the wall in a never ending drawl. Ogata and Nakajima stared at each other, everything else forgotten. Everything… except the sudden reverberation that ran through the stone beneath their hooves like an earthquake. Both sentries turned around, turning to face out over the wall again, just as another lightning bolt cracked through the heavens, and outlined a mountain in the fog where there’d never been one before. Ogata stared at it, his breath catching in his throat. When the flash had passed, all he could see of it was a vast nebulous darkness, black amid dark grey, so big even the fog couldn’t completely hide it. The wall reverberated again, worse than before, worse enough to cause several of the weary sentries to stagger and the puddles of rainwater around their hooves to jitter and dance. The darkness grew darker, coalescing. It was impossibly large, a titan even among mountains. Ogata raised his weapon, taking hold of the spear and pointing it instinctively in the direction of that formless danger. He could think of nothing better to do; running was not an option, no matter how unreasonable yet consuming the directive was becoming. He instead chose to stand his ground, and brandished his spear with as much bravery as his quailing heart could muster… That all changed when a massive, scaled foot swung through the fog right in front of him. It hit the gate with unimaginable force, crushing it as if it’d been constructed from nothing but loosely packed sand. In one blow, it pulverized masonry and timber alike, scattering it like a child’s building blocks. Ogata felt the fortified wall beneath his hooves heave violently, and suddenly he was airborne. He milled his legs wildly, instinctively trying to find traction where there was none, until he came back down – hard. Pain splintered up his back. Lights flashed before his eyes. Somepony shrieked in pain – possibly himself, but he wasn’t sure. Through the ringing in his ears, he heard more cries, more screams, and the explosion of detonating spells far overhead. Disorienting flashes of lights cut through the air above him, followed a split second later by a bright flash like that of fire, lighting up the darkness for brief periods at a time. And with every flash, he saw Him, one frozen frame outlined by fire at a time. With the almost surreal flashes of detonating spells exploding all around Him, Ogata never saw the beast in motion; only brief snapshots of His immense form towering over the fortress, unequalled in size by even the tallest of watch towers. The only thing Ogata could make out for certain was His legs. Each leg was a thick trunk of muscle and scale, wider around than a house, and towered so high that not even Ogata could see where they connected with the rest of the titan through the fog. Everything from there up was lost to shadow, but not lost entirely. A deafening bellow exploded out across the fortress and surrounding hills as the great beast took another stride, annihilating a barracks with one casual swing of His foot. Ogata could physically feel the thump of each spell striking the broadside of His immense body, and yet the monstrosity didn’t falter. At times He was completely swallowed by fire and smoke from all the spells impacting across His form, and yet He hardly seemed fazed. If anything, He seemed to find the harsh light and sound more bothersome than the actual impacts themselves. But He never once turned around, or came to a stop. A sudden rush of air buffeted Ogata as His foot swung directly over him, missing the paralyzed pony by a few scant feet. It took almost a second for the whole sole of His foot to pass over Ogata’s head, and as it did so, something cold and briny hit him in the face – sea water, mixed with mud. An instant later, He drove His foot down into the earth again, pancaking the blacksmith and quaking the earth bad enough to toss Ogata into the air by an inch or two. The rain stopped, and everything grew darker still. Ogata found himself looking straight up, lying on his back, gazing up at a creature so vast he couldn’t see where it topped out. Every time it moved, it swirled the fog around it, creating a virtual vortex every time He turned His body. The untested sentry froze in place, his brain shutting down under the sheer weight of icy cold terror. His heart pounded fearfully in his chest. His breath caught in his lungs. Ogata felt paralyzed, unable to move or even able to process what was happening. The monster let out another deafening, aggravated bellow as a bolt of magic detonated on the side of His face. But as the sound faded, another reached Ogata’s ears, one closer to ground level, and off to one side. He looked around, just as several distant rows of soldiers came marching into view, heavy armor clanking noisily as they approached. They were close enough to be seen through the fog, if only just so. Each wore an eagle helmet, and every one of them carried a lance – only, a lance with a thick, metal shaft that split the blade on the end in two. Near the grip, there was a strange, metallic cylinder partially exposed around a curling hoof guard. The platoon’s leader – a stallion with a red crest atop his helmet whipping through the wind, held up his own strange spear, his forces stopping behind him. They were all looking too far up to ever see Ogata, tangled up as he was in an equally tangled mass of timber and stone. “Ready!” the commander barked. “Aim!” Every soldier suddenly turned their spears, aiming them straight at the monster’s exposed leg and tail, yet did nothing further. “Fire!” And in response, the tip of each spear, in turn, exploded with a flash of light and a loud bang. Through the gloom, Ogata could see streaks of light flash through the air, moving so fast that they were nothing but glowing blurs before the whole volley impacted on the side of the monster’s leg and tail, producing a loud series of explosions across His scaly flanks. And to everypony’s immense surprise, He stopped. Ogata watched Him warily, a deep sense of foreboding welling up inside of him as he stared at the suddenly motionless mountain of ashen scales. The air continued to tremble with a deep, seething growl that Ogata could feel vibrating through the ground all around him. The spellfire slowed, then ceased. Apparently he hadn’t been the only one to notice His inexplicable hesitation. Ogata squinted, trying to see the beast’s tallest point, but his eyes just couldn’t do it – not until a bolt of lightning flashed through the sky, outlining the sheer mass looming over him in spectacular fashion. But to his surprise, he found the monster not even looking in their direction. In fact, He’d turned His head in the complete opposite direction, as if something far off in the distance had caught His eye through the fog. And then, without rhyme or reason or the slightest warning, He turned His whole body ninety degrees… and simply marched away. Ogata could only stare in confusion, even as the beast’s immense tail swung over his head, swatting aside a guard tower with the utmost of ease. He heard him kick his way through another wall, but even as his heavy footfalls grew weaker and weaker until only the rain filled the stunned silence, he could only lay there, soaked in a puddle of rain and mud, unable to process what’d just happened.