//------------------------------// // Chapter 31: The Gauntlet // Story: Brother Against Sister // by CartsBeforeHorses //------------------------------// High Security Pre-Trial Detention Center, Tall Tale Courthouse Zecora sat inside of a small, cramped cell. The bed was suspended from the concrete side of the cell by metal chains. The mattress stank and was as hard as a rock. The cell roof leaked water, making the room musty. Overhead, the light flickered on and off, and the bars had a rusty, brown sheen. She sat down on her bed, staring off at the ceiling. Whatever happened to her right to a speedy trial? It seemed to be taking forever for her to get her day in court. Zarek had assured her that the discovery process would be over soon enough, within three months. For a high-profile spying and treason case, the state would want to press charges as quickly as possible in order to serve as an example to any other would-be zebra spies. Zarek had assured Zecora that, by courtroom standards, three months was “lightning fast” for a case to proceed to trial. As for Zarek himself, he was allowed temporary freedom of movement in the context of the discovery process, but was under armed guard at all times. The discovery process had been going well, from what Zarek had told her. The prosecution had almost zero evidence, and was scrambling to find anything to convict Zecora other than hearsay and circumstantial evidence. They had already petitioned District Judge Gavel to push back the trial until July, which she had granted. But there had been a slight snag in the process. The previous day, a newspaper reporter had snuck past the guards and into the room that held Zecora’s cell. He stood outside the bars, snapped a picture of Zecora, and asked her intrusive, probing questions. She had refused to answer most of them, since Zarek had told her not to talk to the press. Nevertheless, he had sworn that the article about Zecora would appear on the front page of the newspaper the very next day, whether she answered him truthfully or not, so she’d better provide her side of the story if she wanted the world to hear it. She only opened up a little to him, and was very careful in what she said, but by the time the guards hustled the reporter out, his notepad was full of scrawled notes despite the fact that Zecora had said less than fifty words to him in total. Zecora dreaded the news as one of the guards walked up to her cell. “This was in the paper today, zeeb. Thought you might want to see it; looks like it’s about you.” She leaned up as the guard tossed her a rolled-up newspaper through the bars. She gasped as she opened it to the front page, which contained a giant candid photo of her face. TALL TALE TIMES “Bringing you the stories that other papers don’t dare to cover!” April 22nd, 2025 EXCLUSIVE: ZEBRA SPY AWAITS TRIAL By: Yell O. Journalism What’s black and white and red all over, that isn’t the Tall Tale Times? That’s right: a no-good zebra spook with the blood of hundreds of innocent ponies on her hooves! Her name is Zakora, and she is currently awaiting trial at the Tall Tale District Courthouse. Our reporter was able to snag an exclusive interview with her just yesterday. Though she spoke few words, her traitorous intent was audible through her silence. She leered at our interviewer with steely eyes which told a tale of her years of training and determined, religious devotion to Emperor Zaporozhye himself. That’s right, the self-proclaimed “god” Zaporozhye, who makes outrageous claims with no evidence to back them up. On the rare occasions that she did speak, she spoke in cryptic rhymes, which we can only assume is some sort of secret spy code. She also refused to either confirm or deny her involvement in acts of sabotage. The Equestrian prosecutors have assured the Tall Tale Times that their case against Zakora is rock-solid. She was caught sneaking around in the dark, and despite her silence with our interviewer, had previously issued a brazen confession of her crimes of murder and sabotage to multiple guards at a detention camp, local camp guards say. Our sources have confirmed that Zakora has obtained counsel from none other than the well-known zebra defender Zarick, whose own loyalties to Equestria are in doubt. The lawyer has secured acquittals for an astounding 100% of his zebra clients charged with crimes. But with so much at stake, and with so much evidence, Zarick’s winning streak may soon come to an end. Zakora’s guilt or innocence will be determined in a few months, and we promise to keep our readers apprised of the situation. Other stories this issue: Abandoned Appleloosa: the small town that Equestria left unguarded against fascists, Pg. 2 “We’re all being watched when we sleep,” Alex Pones, Pg. 3 A ghost pony that can walk through walls? Photographic evidence, Pg. 4 Prior issue corrections: None. “Zecora, you idiot!” Zecora glanced up from the paper as Zarek came storming into the cell room, stomping his hooves. Zarek frowned. “Do you know why I gave you that little riddle about what a spy would say, back in the camp? Because I wanted to see if you were smart. But apparently, you’re a moron who can’t follow directions!” He pulled out the Tall Tale Times with his hoof and shoved it into Zecora’s face. “How many times have I told you never to talk to the press, Zecora? Dozens? Hundreds? And yet you did anyway!” “But I—” Zecora started. “—And you didn’t just talk to any old press, but the worst newspaper in Equestria, the Tall Tale Times: a truthless, terrible tabloid! They couldn’t even spell our names right! Maybe if you spent half of the brainpower that you normally use to come up with those stupid rhymes of yours, you’d have stopped to think of what a bad idea that was. Look at the libelous garbage they’ve printed. I’ll sue them into the next eon for this!” “I hardly spoke to the reporter, Zarek,” said Zecora. “He burst in here and started asking me all sorts of questions, and threatened to write a damning story about me unless I spoke, but then he wouldn’t listen to a word that I said.” Zarek shook his head. “I see. Well, you shouldn’t have said anything at all, but what’s done is done. Not that your silence would stop them printing lies, anyhow. I’m sorry for yelling at you, and hopefully no one takes that story too seriously. The Tall Tale Times has some major credibility issues, and even if anyone did believe them, the state still has no evidence. By the time I get done making my case in court, even the most ardent anti-zebra racist would have to vote not guilty if he had even a shred of honesty in him.” “ZECORA!” Zecora and Zarek turned around to face the door leading into the cell room. In walked Princess Twilight, smiling wide. “Princess Twilight,” said Zecora, a slight grin on her face. Zarek’s face was somber. Twilight had the guard open the cell bar door, and she rushed in and gave Zecora a hug. The guard walked out of the room. “I thought that you had been killed, that maybe your ship had sunk or something!” exclaimed Twilight. “But then I saw your picture in the paper, saw you were on trial, and I granted you a full royal pardon: you’re free to go. It’s so good to see you all in one piece!” “Yes, my heart still beats, it’s true. But I have much to discuss with you.” Zarek scowled. “She sure does have a lot to discuss, Princess Twilight. Miss Zecora might not be willing to give you an earful, but that’s my job. I’m Zarek, her lawyer.” Twilight extended a hoof to him. “Nice to meet you, mister Za—” Zarek shook his head, denying the princess’ hoofshake. “Where the hell do you get off imprisoning innocent zebras without evidence, without a warrant, without due process, and without a trial, Princess? How do you keep them locked up inside a dark internment camp for months on end with the same food every day, with barbed wire and armed guards all around? It’s a violation of basic rights and dignity! My client had to pretend to be a vicious murderer and admit to crimes she never committed, all just to get her day in court! Is this what our country has come to? If so, then we’re no better than the Zebra Empire or the Second Kingdom. Why are you subverting the justice system in this country?” Zecora remained silent, a stern look on her face which she directed at Twilight. “N-No, I’m not subverting anything, you guys!” Twilight stammered, backing up. “We have an independent judiciary in Equestria, as I’m sure you know. They decide what cases to bring, not me. And the military decides who to put in that camp, not me. I thought Zecora had died on her mission: that the ship capsized, or that Zaporizhia’s guards had foiled the assassination attempt. I had no idea that she was in an internment camp, let alone going to be put on trial for treason, until I saw it in the paper today! Honest!” Zarek shook his head, and pointed a hoof at the Princess. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that the Princess of Equestria herself gets her news on big-name trials from some rag like the Tall Tale Times? That in your daily military briefings, you aren’t appraised of all of the captured zebra ‘spies?’ What kind of idiot do you think I am, Princess? What kind of idiot do you think my client is? Quit insulting our intelligence.” “It’s the truth! Zecora is a good friend of mine, and I would never leave her in jail intentionally, especially since she was on a mission before!” exclaimed Twilight. “I get my news from the paper just like every other citizen of Equestria!” “Oh sure, and I gather evidence for my clients from a tabloid, too,” Zarek scoffed. “Either you’re lying to Zecora and me, or you’re incompetent as a princess, and Equestria is doomed. I don’t know which is worse.” Zecora nodded. “Twilight, there is no need to lie to Zarek and me. Just admit what you did and say that you’re sorry.” “If you’re even capable of it,” said Zarek. “Perhaps you believe your own lies at this point.” Twilight frowned. “Look, I’m not going to argue with you, Zarek. I came here to see my friend Zecora, not her lawyer. And Zecora, I’m very sorry about how you were treated, about how all of the zebras are treated. I had no idea it was that bad. I’m going to improve conditions at those camps, and shut them down as soon as the war with the Zebra Empire is over. But since you never got to complete your mission, Zaporizhia is still alive and carrying on the war. I still need you to go and—” “Shut up!” shouted Zarek. Twilight blinked. “Excuse me?” “I said ‘shut up,’ as in ‘close your mouth and stop talking!’” Zarek raged, his face in a contorted scowl as he poked his hoof into Twilight’s chest. “Why Princess Celestia chose to appoint such an incompetent, stupid, naive child as you to take her place as Princess of Equestria, I’ll never know. But let me spell it out for you in terms as black and white as my coat: Zecora is never going to assassinate Zaporizhia now! Do you know why?” Twilight stammered, “Uh… because Zecora d-doesn’t... want to b-be my friend any m-more?” Zarek screamed at the top of his lungs, “NO, YOU ABSOLUTE SIMPLETON! Do you have no practical knowledge of how the world works? Do you really think everything in life boils down to a high school popularity contest of who’s-friends-with-who? Zecora would kill Zaporizhia even if she swung by your palace and killed you along the way; that’s how much she and the zebra immigrants in Equestria despise him and his self-serving claims to divinity. We are true patriots and defenders of freedom in Equestria. You don’t have to be a pony to stand for truth and justice, despite what you and your racist, bigoted generals may say. You are a tenth the ruler that Celestia ever was, ‘Princess’ Twilight.” Twilight’s eyes started to mist up, though she held back the tears. “But why... why not kill him?” Zarek said, “Your would-be ‘secret assassin’ will never kill Zappo, because she just had her picture published in a newspaper with global circulation that sells millions of copies a day. And since world leaders these days apparently get all of their intel from tabloids, he’ll see her coming from a mile away!” “I would still love to kill the emperor, this is true,” said Zecora. “But Zarek is right: my photograph in the Tall Tale Times is too big a clue.” Twilight shook her head, wiping her eyes with her hoof. “Then I’ll have to rethink the strategy for the entire west coast theater. I’m not sure how much longer Tall Tale and Vanhoover can hold out against this Zebra onslaught. Killing the emperor and sending his forces into disarray was our plan’s lynchpin.” “Not my problem,” said Zarek. “But I can’t imagine that if he wins, Zaporizhia would treat the zebras in Equestria any worse than you do. In fact, Zecora and I are going to counter-sue you and Equestria and take this all the way to the Supreme Court of Equestria if we have to. We will get all of the zebras released from those camps at once!” Zecora nodded. The color drained from Twilight’s face. “You mustn’t sue Equestria! That’s a mistake. It’s true, there are some innocent zebras like you or Zecora in those camps, but there are also many spies and saboteurs in there. I know for a fact that some of them are spies, but we could never get a jury to convict them. The standard of guilt on the battlefield is a lot lower to meet than it is in a court of law. We have to keep these zebras imprisoned for the greater good of Equestria. There are only a couple thousand zebras in those camps, but there are hundreds of thousands of zebras and millions of ponies on the west coast who could all die if we let the spies out and they commit more sabotage. We’ll let every zebra go as soon as the war is over.” “Better a hundred guilty people go free than one innocent person be locked up,” said Zarek. “Zecora will sue and have her day in court, and I will crucify your despotic state on the stand until the justices are in stitches laughing at what a circus you’ve made of our once-proud Equestria. I will end your farce in court and stop your maniacal usurpation of power! You may have absolute power as a monarch, sending your generals out to do whatever they want. You may have a rubber-stamp parliament strong-armed by a cabal of corrupt, self-enriching oligarchs like Filthy Rich or Jet Set. But the judiciary shall not bow to your junta as long as I draw breath!” Twilight shook her head. “A supreme court case would be terrible for Equestria right now. It would divide the nation at a time that we’re already in a war. Please don’t bring the case. We don’t need to be divided by discord; we need to be united in friendship.” Zarek turned his head away from Twilight in disgust. With a knot in her stomach and a pleading look in her eyes, Twilight turned to Zecora, but Zecora simply shook her head, frowning with disappointment at the princess. Zecora took a step towards Twilight and put her hoof on the princess’ shoulder. “We were,” said Zecora. Twilight’s heart sank in her chest as Zecora drew her hoof back and turned away. Zarek motioned towards the door with his hoof. “Now if you’ll excuse us, my client and I were discussing our lawsuit against Equestria.” Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but realized that she didn’t have anything else to say. She’d laid all of her cards on the table, but nothing more that she could possibly say would make things right again. She’d lost Zecora as an ally and a friend, and gained a powerful foe in Zarek. Instead, she walked out of the room as quickly as she could, hiding herself from view as tears finally began to flow freely from her eyes. What have I done? May 2025, Dodge Junction “Alright, I’ll take sector five today, around Mareicopa. I hadn’t searched there yet, but since Pumpkin Cake is a unicorn, she might have gone there. I don’t know why, but maybe—” “Nope,” said Big Macintosh. He and Applejack sat under the shade of an umbrella, drinking alcoholic apple cider at the beer garden of a local tavern as the sun hung off in the eastern sky, shining through the cracks between the buildings of the city. On the table, a large map of the Equestrian Southern desert stood with markings on it. “Why in tarnation would Pumpkin have gone to Mareicopa instead of Dodge Junction? She knew that Dodge Junction was our fallback position,” said Applejack. “I know she wanted to stay and fight, but even she woulda seen the situation was hopeless and retreated to Dodge Junction, not Second Kingdom territory. I mean, unless she’s bein’ held as a POW or somethin’, but she can walk through walls, so how could that be? She’d escape and come right back here, which is exactly where we’ve been lookin’ and ain’t turned up squat.” Pound shook his head. “I don’t know, okay? But we have to try, for her sake. She could still be alive.” “Sugarcube, you know that I’m really honest, right?” said Applejack. Pound Cake nodded. Applejack threw her hooves in the air. “Well, I can’t hide my feelins’ anymore. This is a hopeless mission. We’ve searched far and wide for two weeks. Big Mac and I have asked every bellhop at every hotel and every conductor of every train in Dodge Junction, and walked half the streets, and still haven’t found her. If she’s alive, she ain’t in this city or in Appleloosa. Already searched seven ways from Sunday.” “Eeyup,” said Big Macintosh, taking a giant swig of cider from his mug. “Dodge Junction is a big city,” said Pound, shaking his head. “She could be lost here, too, so keep looking, while I go out west and do flyovers.” “No,” said Applejack, shaking her head. “Big Mac and I are plum tired, Pound. We’ve been helpin’ you look for almost two weeks now. We want to go to Manehattan to stay with our Aunt and Uncle Orange; Granny Smith and Braeburn are already there. The Oranges are kindly rich ponies and will let us stay at their luxury penthouse as long as it takes to get back on our hooves and rebuild our lives. You can come, too. You’ll even get to meet Babs Seed and some of our other city-slicker relatives.” Pound Cake shook his head. “I have to go look. I can’t stop. I already lost Pumpkin Cake once, and I’m not losing her again.” “You gonna look forever?” asked Big Macintosh. Pound Cake blinked at the question, rather verbose by Big Macintosh standards. “Well, no, I mean…” he scratched his head in thought. “I plan to give up eventually, just not right now. I’m not going to turn this into some crusade and look for the rest of my life or something, but I feel like two weeks is—” “Plenty,” said Applejack. “You know what Sheriff Silverstar told me yesterday?” “What?” asked Pound Cake. “Each day that a missing pony ain’t found, the chance of findin’ ‘em alive is cut in half. By day three, it ain’t a search and rescue mission no more: it’s a recovery mission. We’ve been searchin’ for two weeks. All you’re gonna find at this point is a corpse, assumin’ she ain’t in some unmarked mass grave of ASDF bodies.” “But she could still be alive!” “And I could hit the jackpot the next time I play the slots,” said Applejack. “I might think I will, but I really won’t. Trust me, as somepony who’s fought and beaten a gambling addiction; all that really happens is that I’ll gamble my life savings away because, all in all, the house wins. You’re fightin’ the odds and losin’, Pound Cake. It’s always just one more lever pull, just one more drink, just one more day looking for somepony who, if I had to guess, I’d guess is dead. And that’s the honest truth. It ain’t the truth you want to hear, but it’s the truth you need to hear.” “Quit crusadin’, Pound,” said Big Macintosh. Pound Cake remained silent, closing his eyes as he rested his hoof on his forehead. “Big Macintosh and I have bought tickets to Manehattan on the midnight train,” said Applejack. “We got all day before it comes, though, and you can bet that we’ll keep searchin’ this city for Pumpkin until the very last minute. But we’re not missin’ that train, Pound. We’re gettin’ on and startin’ our new lives: movin’ on from the old.” “Eeyup,” said Big Macintosh. He and Applejack got up and paid for their drinks. “I hope we see you at the train station, or back in Manehattan if you wanna fly to the Oranges,” said Applejack. Big Macintosh nodded. Pound Cake remained silent as they both gave him a hug and walked off down the street. Pound Cake soared west across the desert sands, his mind clear except for the single-minded determination which had driven his every action for half a month: finding his sister at any cost. He flew in a trance-like state, following the path of the railroad tracks. Though the desert was vast, he had kept his search limited to areas which were survivable and close to a water source. Further to the north there was a minor tributary to the Everfree river which he had spent two days searching. To the south, there was a giant salt lake near the border of the dragon and changeling-infested Badlands. He didn’t know if Pumpkin could live off of saltwater, but maybe there was a magic desalination spell that he didn’t know about, so he had searched around there, too. His thoughts drifted towards memories as he neared closer to Appleloosa, eyeing it off in the distance. He fondly recalled his fourteenth and fifteenth birthdays, his time spent in school, even his training with the militia. Even though it was an earth pony town, it had been the closest thing to a home that he had had since Spitfire. Obviously, it was the first place that he had searched for his sister, though only at night when he could sneak around the occupying unicorns and buffalo undetected. He neared the town and the broken, burnt-out shells of the buildings. He was too high to see with his naked eye, so he looked through his binoculars at the town below. Some of the buildings were more badly damaged than others; while three or four were only missing windows, others were entirely demolished. Several of them were being repaired, and had scaffolding surrounding them. The apple orchards off in the distance had come into full bloom, and the white flowers from spring had fallen off and given way to the green summer leaves and small, green apples which would ripen and turn red over the course of the year. Pound Cake chuckled as he trained the binoculars on the bank. Or, rather, the bank vault, which was the only part of the bank still standing. The solid steel door didn’t have a single scratch on it, and would probably remain standing until the end of time. He sighed as he recalled his argument with his sister inside that vault on that fateful night two weeks ago. He’d called her a crusader for wanting to stay and fight when the situation was utterly hopeless, instead of coming to Dodge Junction with him and living to fight another day. He could almost hear Pumpkin’s silvery voice in his ears, speaking in the sarcastic tone that she often took when arguing with him. “Now who’s on a crusade, Pound?” Pound chuckled, and then sighed. He hadn’t followed his own advice that he’d given his sister: know when to back down. Know when you have a lost cause. Applejack and Big Macintosh were right. It was time to accept his loss and move on with his life. If she was still alive somewhere, it was beyond his reach, and she’d have to come find him. A loud sound caught his ear as he trained his binoculars towards the town square. Armed unicorn guards stood all around the town square, their weapons trained on some hundred earth ponies: likely the entire remaining population of the town that hadn’t fled to Dodge Junction or died in the battle. A single unicorn stood on the steps of the ruined town hall, a whip in his magic, as he flagellated an earth pony who was tied up on the charred remains of the door. Even from as far up as he was, Pound Cake could still hear the crack of the whip and the pony’s cries of agony. His blood came to a boil in anger as everything stormed in his mind at once. He cursed the unicorns for killing his sister and enslaving the town, and cursed himself for being so blind to their suffering. For the last two weeks, he had looked for his sister at the expense of everything else, including his desire to save these ponies and evacuate them. He hadn’t been able to do it that night, but now his wings worked and he was healthy. Though his sister was almost certainly dead by now, he would avenge her death. He would turn his pointless crusade to find her body into a meaningful mission to snatch the earth ponies from the clutches of slavery and toil, and ensure that the entire town was worthless to the Second Kingdom forever. But to do that, he would have to do something that he had never done before. The earth ponies on the ground stood petrified as they were forced to watch the severe whipping that the masked pony was delivering to a recalcitrant apple farmer. The hungry farmer had been discovered eating apples on the job, a severe offence. All apples were to be turned over to the Second Kingdom, and they were to determine how much the farmers got to keep. “Stop! I beg you!” he yelled as the unicorn stallion ignored his pleas, cracking his whip at the stallion’s bloody back. Drips of blood pooled on the steps of the town hall. Any time that one of the townsponies looked away in horror, one of the unicorn guards would use his magic to wrench the pony’s head back towards the direction of the whipping. Any time that one of the townsponies closed his eyes, a unicorn would telekinetically pry his eyelids open. They were all made to watch in horror as a warning to never defy the Second Kingdom. One of the ponies gazed up at the sky for a moment. Though he expected his head to be wrenched back in short order, it wasn’t. Instead, his heart skipped a beat as he saw white smoke hanging in the sky, spelling out a message. “EARTHS TO D.J. TRAIN” “What in tarnation!” he called out, pointing skyward. The whipping stopped for a moment as all of the ponies and buffalo gazed at the sky, trying to decipher the message. Excited muttering erupted from the crowd. “What do y’all think it means?” “Earths? Earth ponies?” “D.J.? Dodge Junction?” One of the buffalo shot off a lightning bolt in the air, and the crowd quieted down. “Silence!” he shouted. One of the unicorn guards yelled, “This is not an official message! It’s some pegasus punk skywriter playing a prank! Ignore it!” The hooded punisher continued whipping the pony, though the townsponies were now all looking at the sky, and the few unicorns didn’t have enough magic between them to keep all of the townsponies’ heads and eyes facing the whipping. “Watch the punishment, not the sky, or your rations will be halved!” the unicorn guard yelled once more. But it was no use, as a new message appeared just as the old one faded away. “EQ RESCUE COMING” “We’re saved!” yelled one of the earth ponies. “Equestria is rescuing us!” “To the train station!” yelled another. The ponies scrambled away to the south, towards the train station. “Stop! Stop!” the buffalo yelled, as they brought down lightning bolts onto the town from the sky, right in front of the ponies’ path. But it was no use, and did little besides make their manes stand on end and make them cover their ears temporarily. Unicorns tried grabbing them with their magic to stop them, and fired meaningless warning shots into the air, but there were too many townsponies and not enough unicorns and buffalo. They couldn’t use lethal force, either, out of fear of killing their laborers. The earth ponies wrenched free of their captives’ magical grasp, scrambling all throughout the alleys of town on their way, scattering as they went towards the train station. A set of twin locomotives and a dozen boxcars stood on the tracks. The unicorns and buffalo started to give chase, but paused as gunfire echoed from above and bullets rained down onto the town square. Off in the sky, a pale white speck grew in size as it rapidly approached the ground. One of the buffalo fell, groaning as several bullets pierced his side. “We’re under fire from the pegasus! Take him down!” a unicorn shouted. They aimed their guns towards up and fired into the air, but Pound was too small of a target and too fast for them to hit. Across town, the earth ponies clamored aboard the train. They wrenched open the doors to the boxcars, throwing themselves inside and closing the doors behind them. “Stop! Stop or I’ll shoot!” one of the unicorn guards yelled, running over to the train in pursuit. But everypony knew that he couldn’t shoot the farmers, and an older earth mare walked over to him and kicked him in the stomach. He yelped as the gun fell out of his magical grasp. The mare grabbed it, shot a single bullet in the unicorn’s head and stood guard outside the train as dozens and dozens of the Appleloosans clamored aboard. Thankfully, one of them was a conductor, and climbed into the locomotive, as several of the others started shoveling coals into the furnace. “Now or never!” the conductor cried as he pulled down on the rope and the train whistle sounded. The engine roared to life as the train slowly started chugging along at a snail’s pace. Almost every earth pony in town was now on the train. Five buffalo arrived to the train from elsewhere in the town, taking down the mare with a gun with a lightning bolt. Though they couldn’t fire directly into the train for fear of killing their farmers, they still slammed their massive bodies into the train like hoofball linemen. The train wobbled from side to side as the buffalo slammed into it. “No leaving Appleloosa!” the buffalo shouted. The earth ponies all piled their bodies towards the sides of the boxcar to stop it from shaking from the buffalos’ attempts to derail the train. It was holding, and they just hoped that it would hold until the train was moving too fast for them to keep up. The wind blistered Pound Cake’s face. Tears streamed to his eyes as his wings flapped back and forth many times a second, and his hair streamed behind him. This time, he had tied his messy mane behind his head and styled it back, so that he wouldn’t be blinded by it whipping his eyes. Pound was temporarily blinded as a lightning bolt hit the air a meter away, likely fired from a buffalo. He narrowed his eyes as he determined that he wouldn’t fly straight down. Rather, he started circling in concentric figure eights to make himself harder to hit. The blood rushed to his head and out of his hooves as he thought that he would pass out, as the buffalo continued to fire volley after volley of lightning bolts, and the unicorns shot off magic spells and machine gun fire, anything to stop the pegasus who was rapidly closing in on them. The buildings grew in size as Pound approached the ground. He would have only one shot at this. His stentorian cry echoed through the air. He wasn’t sure whether it could be heard over the sound of the wind gusts that his plummet was making, but it was more for his sake than theirs. “THIS IS FOR PUMPKIN!” A white cone appeared around his hooves, and then, at the last possible second, he pulled up at a ninety-degree angle, flying down the main street of town at a screaming pace. A tremendous sound louder than anything that Pound had ever heard boomed behind him, and an incredible tapestry of every color conceivable erupted like a volcano, shrouding the town in blinding light. The buffalo and unicorns still left in the town were knocked back, going flying in every direction. Many died instantly from the colorful concussive blasts inflicted by the sonic rainboom, their blood misting the air. Others were thrown up into the air or across the ground, their necks and spines snapping against the ground and the sides of buildings which themselves collapsed under the blast. Pound raced through the apple orchards at blistering speeds, the shockwave knocking all of the trees out of the ground, their trunks snapping like toothpicks, their leaves whipped off into the air or into a green tornado which followed the unstoppable Pound Cake in a line through every orchard in town. He surveyed the destruction, and just to ensure that the town would forever be a barren waste, he returned for a second pass, yet another sonic explosion tearing the apple trees from the ground behind him like a sharp razor shaving a thick beard. The town and its orchards in ruins behind him, Pound Cake zipped towards the train which the six buffalo left were still trying to derail. He zeroed in on the one in the back, and with his remaining momentum, slammed his two front hooves into his side, knocking him into the others like billiard balls. The onslaught stopped, and the buffalo lay broken balls of fuzz by the side of the rails as the train finally reached full speed. By this point, Pound Cake’s wings were screaming out in protest and aching in pain from the exertion he had put on them. He flew inside of one of the boxcars, landing next to some of the refugees from Appleloosa. “Pound Cake! You rescued us!” one of the Appleloosans said. “We’re free!” said another. “We knew you’d come back!” “Three cheers for Pound Cake!” They lifted him up and tossed him in the air. “Hip hip, hooray! Hip hip, hooray! Hip hip, hooray!” Pound Cake smiled as he glanced through the open boxcar door back towards Appleloosa. Every single building had been reduced to piles of wood. The orchards were entirely gone, mere splinters and apple mush standing where the trees once did. Even where they were, a kilometer away from the town, stray green apple tree leaves and apples still rained from the sky. “Sorry about your town,” said Pound Cake. “But I didn’t think that you’d miss it too much after what the Second Kingdom did to it.” The ponies in the boxcar chuckled. The sun had just begun to set as Applejack and Big Macintosh stood at the train station. They sat on a bench as the clock struck eight o’ clock. “Well, I guess that Pound Cake ain’t comin’ with us,” said Applejack. “The train to Manehattan gets here in five minutes, and he still ain’t here.” Big Macintosh shrugged. Applejack sighed. “I guess I’ve finally met a pony who’s more stubborn than I am. Though I must admit, if somethin’ ever happened to you, Big Mac, I don’t know if I’d ever stop lookin’. So I guess I can’t blame Pound Cake for not givin’ up the search for Pumpkin—” Big Macintosh blinked, glancing behind Applejack. Applejack turned to where he pointed and saw a familiar black locomotive from the MDJ line. But this wasn’t their train to Manehattan; it didn’t have any passenger cars. Rather, there were a dozen or so boxcars that looked like they had seen better days. Green leaves from apple trees were scattered all over the top and stuck to the sides, glued in place by what Applejack instantly recognized as wet apple mush. The sides of the boxcars were covered in dents, like somepony had taken a sledgehammer to it. “What the hay?” asked Applejack. The train came to a stop, and the boxcars opened. Applejack smiled as the tired, beleaguered residents of Appleloosa poured out one by one. “Mister Barnstead! Old lady Ashmead! The Pettingill triplets! How did all of y’all get out of there?” asked Applejack. Suddenly, she got her answer, as Pound Cake climbed out of the car, using his hooves to walk all the way over from the last boxcar to Applejack. She raised an eyebrow, as normally he would use his wings to fly more than five meters or so. “Hi, Applejack,” said Pound Cake. “I didn’t find Pumpkin Cake, but I brought some friends back with me.” “But… how?” asked Big Macintosh. Pound Cake chuckled. “Well, I pulled off a little stunt called the sonic rainboom.” Applejack’s jaw dropped. “Land’s sakes! Only my friend Rainbow Dash has ever been able to do that before!” Pound said, “I had never done it before today, but I was so angry after I finally accepted that Pumpkin Cake had died and that they killed her. I saw them whipping a stallion on the steps, and that made me even madder. I guess that I just channeled all of that rage into flying as fast as I could.” Applejack walked over to the train. “Looks like you made a mess of things.” Pound laughed. “The town is entirely gone! So are the orchards. Pumpkin Cake may be dead, but her death won’t be in vain. I’m not stopping with Appleloosa, either…” Big Macintosh and Applejack raised an eyebrow, and Pound gazed to the north. “...I’m going to destroy every last one of the Second Kingdom’s crop fields until they surrender and end the war.”