"You've served your purpose. You may die now!"
In the context of the castle, the term "great hall" was a misnomer. I'm sure it was great, once upon a time, but all I saw was another crumbling ruin cluttered with the out-of-place trappings of modern civilization.
A hall of its size was probably used for social gatherings, feasts. Fittingly, Pegasus Wings had turned it into a mess hall. The path to the dais on the far end of the hall was lined on either side by rows of dirty aluminum benches. A chilly wind blew through one of the long-shattered windows lining the walls, tickling my face and tossing the tails of my bandanna around my head. How the hell the troops ate in a room so exposed to the elements was beyond me. At least the gatehouse had tents.
The dais sat in front of a "U"-shaped alcove, and upon the dais rested a rotted-out, cobweb-covered throne. Assuming it was as old as the rest of the castle (and it suited the crumbling ruin atmosphere far better than the more modern aluminum benches), I couldn't figure out what it was still doing there. According to the others, they'd already replaced the old rope bridge and whatever used to rest on the gatehouse pedestal. Why remove them, and not the throne?
In the alcove behind the throne were a pair of moss-covered windows with only shards of glass stuck in the pane. Built into the right side of the alcove was a tall, wooden door, or rather, the bottom half of one; the top had long ago broken away. Curiously, the door was tall enough to accommodate me. I'd have to duck my head to get under it, but it had significantly more clearance than the size of the ponies it was built to accommodate would suggest. Everyone I'd met until that point was pint-sized, barely coming up to my hip. I think the red one in the barn could meet my stomach, but that was the high water mark for pony height. Comparatively speaking, this door was enormous. Who or what the hell was it built for?
I leaned against the empty windowsill and gazed outside. The sun was almost down by then; the sky was a mix of blues and reds, fading gradually into rich purple. The spectacular height of the great hall gave me a panoramic view of a courtyard far below, one which put the makeshift helipad between the gatehouse and keep to shame. This one was huge, and mostly empty, though the stony remnants of ancient buildings scattered about told me that it wasn't always so spacious. Many of the buildings still retained a semblance of form, but many more had simply been smashed to bits. That accounted for a lot of the rubble, which carpeted large swaths of the courtyard. I got the feeling that some sort of battle took place in that courtyard, one which shattered whatever structures had stood there so long ago.
Even with so much rubble, the size of the courtyard was such that there was enough room to comfortably house several trucks. I saw a flatbed, and a covered truck which I assumed was a troop transport. The courtyard was encircled by a looming curtain wall that was only slightly shorter than the window I stood at. The wall was cracked and weathered, but seemed to have held up rather well over time (or at least, better than most structures in that dump of a castle). Whatever fight took place here seemed to have largely spared that wall. That didn't make much sense, unless the fight was localized entirely in the castle. Maybe it was a Trojan Horse situation. Or an uprising from within that razed most of the buildings.
Off to the right was another partially intact structure: a tall, ring-shaped wall, shiny and black, whose circumference took up an absurdly large percentage of the absurdly large courtyard. I tried to get a glimpse into the ring, but the only entrance I could see was a colonnade of the same color and material as the rest of the wall, perpendicular to my vantage point. The wall looked very much out of place, more elegant than the utilitarian gatehouse and keep. The rest of the castle was clearly built from individual bricks stacked upon one another, but this other wall seemed carved from one giant piece of obsidian. It was seamless, polished even. The dying sunlight glinted off of it.
At the far end of the courtyard was another gatehouse, which vastly outsized the one I'd passed through on my way into the castle. Instead of an enormous set of double doors, however, this gatehouse possessed a pair of portcullises. The one facing the inside of the courtyard was open; past it, I could see the one which separated the gatehouse from the outside world. Through that portcullis, I could see the shadowy treeline of the Everfree Forest. Flanking the gatehouse were two jutting turrets. I held the scope of my rifle to my eye, and saw sentries posted on either turret, one each, both armed with rifles whose states of disrepair would make Master Miller quiver with fury. I thought of the note from before, and wondered just how bad Quartermaster Loomis was at his job.
The first portcullis being open made my job somewhat easier, but I'd still have to circumvent the second somehow. The mechanism to open it had to be inside of the gatehouse, but I couldn't open it without drawing attention to myself. Maybe there was another way?
My mind drifted back to my previous missions, searching for something in my experience that would be relevant. I'd encountered a similar situation on Shadow Moses, when I needed to get through the tank hanger, but I had Meryl to open the hanger door for me then. In this instance, I was on my own. Sure, I could have doubled back and asked one of the ponies for help, but time was a consideration, and backtracking would only eat more of it than I could spare. Besides, in this situation, I doubted that they would have been able to do anything that I couldn't have done by myself, talented as they were.
In any case, inspiration struck when I thought about the duel with Liquid's gunship on the comm tower. I didn't have enough firepower to take him on at that point, so I found a sturdy length of rope and rappelled down the side of the tower to get to a conveniently located Stinger missile launcher. I looked again at the manned turrets and the sturdy wall. Finding my way up there would be easy enough. Knocking out the guards, even easier. Now, all I needed was a rope.
I made a cursory search of the great hall, but I wasn't expecting anything, and found no lucky surprises. Backtracking is a pain and a last resort for me, so I decided to keep moving through the fortress, hoping that I could find either a rope, or some other solution to my dilemma. So out the door I went, back into the chilly Equestrian dusk, and down an enormous and steep flight of stairs. Back in the old days, castles were built by sticking a wooden fort on top of a raised mound; they called it a "mott-and-bailey" fortress. Judging by the height of the keep and the slope of the hill I descended, I'd say that this particular castle was initially constructed under that principle. Everything else – the walls, the gatehouses, the other structures – must have been added over time.
I kept a careful watch on the sentries in the turrets, hiding and ducking behind rubble for cover, but I needn't have worried. They kept their eyes on the forest in front of them, without variation, without fail. I suppose there's something to be said for that kind of dedication, but the whole practice struck me as redundant and silly. There was nothing out there but the staging area, and nothing between the castle and the staging area to look out for. Everfree fauna, maybe? I guess they just didn't see any point in covering the courtyard, since the only entrance into it was adequately covered, or so they probably thought.
Still, given what I'd seen from Pegasus Wings infantry up until that point, the fact that they were performing their duties at all was something else.
I decided to look in the ring-wall first. From a distance, I was struck by the grace evident in its construction, the way it clashed with the rest of the ruin, looking clean and new amidst the keep's decay. But up close, I felt – no, knew, with a certainty that made me nervous – that its appearance was a lie. It was old. The age and scale of the thing struck me; looking at it, I could tell it was a labor of love, a monument to something... or someone... long forgotten. A feeling of almost palpable sacredness radiated from the structure. I recognized the feeling; I'd experienced it before, in the sleek structure that housed the portal on the island base.
I knew, then, that I wouldn't be likely to find a rope in there, and that what I did find would raise more questions and answer none. Metal Gear was still out there, waiting for me, but I felt irrationally compelled to see what was in there with my own eyes.
And, you know, there was always the possibility that what I needed was down there. Remote though it may have been, it was worth checking out, at the very least.
The space inside the ring spiraled downward, with circular rows of what looked like stadium seating flanking me on either side. In front of me was a path that descended down a steep slope into a deep pit, the locus of which was a wide, towering black arch, capped at its apex by a bust of a black unicorn.
It was even more magnificent up close. Its surface shone as though painstakingly polished. No, "polished" implies that it was tarnished. This thing looked as though dirt and grime had never once touched it. Despite its fresh appearance, I knew, instinctively, that it was ancient, as ancient as the ring at the top of the pit. Yet it looked timeless, ageless. Pure.
I rested my hand on it gently, felt the cool, smooth stone beneath my palm. It was as faultless as it was clean; I couldn't feel a scratch upon it. Through all the unknowable years that this thing had lain in this pit, it remained intact, whole, and untouched by the passage of time. How could that be possible? But then, there was precedent for this sort of thing. The arch in the island base, while also clearly ancient, was just as intact as this one.
But there were differences between the two, besides simple color. Now that I was close, I could see the bust at the top in greater detail. The bust on the first arch had been of a white unicorn, gazing serenely at the world before it. This one was black, its eyes shut, its expression mournful.
Tire tracks ran from the entrance of the arch and back up the path I'd just walked down, yet they didn't run through the arch, just out of it. I'd seen the same phenomenon at the other portal.
"There's only one way in and out, right? And we're sitting on it."
So that's what the idiot soldier had meant. Pegasus Wings set up shop here because it was the point where their world – our world – intersected with Equestria. But then, I went through the same portal that they did, back on the island. Yet I had no memory of coming out through this one, slipping through the castle's defenses and out the back door, and winding up in a barn in Ponyville, unconscious and at the mercy of a red horse with an apple tattoo. I figured that Pegasus Wings emerged from the portal in another spot of Equestria, but that matter took a backseat to the mere fact that they were there and posed an immediate threat. Standing face-to-face with that mystery, though, I realized that I didn't know what to think.
"More to the point, the portal has been rigged to disperse the atoms of anybody who attempts to follow us here."
Trenton's words. I'd ignored them at the time; as with the mystery of Pegasus Wings' point of origin, Trenton's remark hadn't seemed worth dwelling on. Thinking on it, though, it sounded as if I should have died when I crossed that threshold. Yet I'd emerged, alive and intact, albeit in a barn. Maybe they rigged it poorly. Maybe, instead of turning my component atoms into nothing, they set it to rearrange me in some random location. That seemed the most likely explanation. Thinking back, Trenton had agreed with me when I pointed out that they'd done their job improperly, that passing through the portal wasn't lethal.
“You passed through here before, but I sent you back. It wasn't your time. It still isn't.”
Or maybe it was. That hallucination, The Sorrow, spoke to me as though I'd died once before. Could I have died crossing the portal into Equestria after all? Could he have "sent me back," so to speak, because it just wasn't my time? Up until then, I'd considered The Sorrow a hallucination, a fantasy brought on by an overtaxed mind, fueled by a potent nerve toxin. But seeing that arch turned my world upside-down, put all options back on the table. Suddenly, intervention on the part of a smugly grinning ghost seemed plausible.
I was jarred out of my ruminations by a sharp, yet furtive, "psst!" coming from above me. Startled, I drew Lucky Number SeveN and leveled it at a curiously low-hanging cloud that was almost directly over my head.
"Oh, put that away!" hissed a raspy voice. A rainbow-crowned blue head poked over the edge of the cloud and frowned at me. "Those things'll put your eye out!"
"Rainbow Dash." I lowered the gun and released a sigh of exasperation. Of all the ponies to tail me after I'd thought I'd parted ways with them for good, it had to be the least tolerable of the bunch. Pinkie Pie, even, would be an improvement. And how did she expect me to put an eye out with my own gun? It was a pistol, not a Red Ryder BB Gun. "What are you doing here?"
"What?" hissed Rainbow Dash. She cupped a hoof over her ear. "Speak up; I can barely hear you."
Not surprising; low-hanging as her cloud was, its altitude was several times my own height. Raising my voice ran the risk of alerting the castle's few sentries to my presence, and I didn't want to risk that just to accommodate the world's worst pony. I told her that, as patiently as I could.
Rainbow Dash did not appreciate my patience. "You're going to have to speak up," she hissed.
Of all the... Unable to articulate my exasperation with words, I pressed my fingertips hard against my cloth-covered forehead and grumbled.
"Fine, fine. I'll come to you." The beating noise of tiny wings grew closer and closer, until a slight gust of displaced air washed over me.
"There," said Rainbow Dash, glaring sternly at me. "You happy now?"
I returned the look with my hand still cupping my forehead. "Ecstatic. Now, what the hell are you doing here?"
"I've been tailing you from the sky ever since you stepped into that first courtyard." she explained, her voice still bearing a sharp edge. "I came out here to ask you why all three of you went into the castle's main building, and only you came out the other side."
"There was a fork in the road. We split up."
Rainbow Dash raised an eyebrow. "Are you down here looking for Apple Bloom?"
"No, we found out where she was. Applejack and Twilight are getting her out as we speak."
Rainbow Dash lowered her brow and narrowed her eyes. "So why aren't you with them?"
"Because there was someplace else I had to be." I was starting to think that walking down that path to this secluded archway had been a bad idea. Rainbow Dash would not have had the gall to confront me in the open, with the sharpshooters keeping watch, meaning I'd have been spared another tedious tactical debate. Maybe that arch had a will, and putting me under its thrall was just part of a scheme to piss me off.
"We discussed this in the forest. I'm on a mission, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember that," said Rainbow Dash, the edge in her voice sharpening considerably. "I also remember you agreeing to help us rescue Apple Bloom, but you went ahead and ditched us the first chance you got."
"I didn't 'ditch' anyone. I suggested that we split up, and they agreed. I'll go on through the forest to the staging area to finish the mission, while you and yours get Apple Bloom out of here."
Her angry expression faltered, and she looked blank for a few moments, before incredulity crossed her features. "You suggested splitting up?" she asked. "And they agreed?"
I nodded curtly.
Incredulity gave way to anger, and she rose into the air, wings flapping furiously. "That wasn't the deal," she snapped. "You were supposed to help us get her out of here, which means that you were supposed to stay with us until she was safe. None of this 'splitting up' pile of horseapples."
"The situation's changed." I pointed off into the distance, in the general direction of the portcullis leading to the rest of the forest. "Metal Gear could be ready to fire at any moment. If I'm to have any hope of stopping it, I need to go, and I need to go now."
"So you're just gonna abandon my friends? Turn your back on us after all we've done to help you?!" The pegasus jabbed a hoof at me accusingly. "What if they get caught before they make it out of the castle?"
"Caught by what?" I flung my hands up, opened my arms wide. "Who's there to stop them? The only resistance they could possibly meet is unconscious."
"Did you forget that we were practically invited in here?" Rainbow Dash punched one hoof into the other. "Trenton told us to come, made it as easy as possible to get in – why?"
"Why don't you tell me, since you're an expert on tactical infiltration all of a sudden?"
"You're supposed to be the expert," she retorted. "But you can't even see that Trenton made it possible for us to get in, and he's going to make it impossible for us to get back out! This is a trap!"
As if I hadn't considered that exact possibility. As if I hadn't sprung a hundred traps before, knowingly and unknowingly.
"Some traps are unavoidable," I said. "Sometimes, you have to spring them, and make it look like you blundered into them so that the enemy lets their guard down." I turned away from her, and began to climb the ramp that led back to the courtyard.
Rainbow Dash, however, was not finished with me. She darted over my head and landed in front of me, her wings splayed and her back flattened. "Maybe," she said. "But if you're going to do that, then you better damn well make sure you can fight your way out of that trap. And as much as I hate to admit it, our odds are better when you're with us than with you gone."
"This is bigger than you and your friends." I stared her down, meeting her outrage with a cool and steady gaze. "None of what we've done today will be good for a thing if Metal Gear goes online."
"Snake." Rainbow Dash's voice sounded plaintive now, and her expression softened to match her tone. "That trap, whatever it is... if it springs on my friends, then they could die."
My stomach knotted as her words sunk in. I'd watched whole fire teams gunned down, sat back in my cover and waited for the chop to die down while men and women dropped before my eyes. I'd listened to Jack babble in fear about a SEAL team being blown to bits by Fortune, and I didn't feel a damn thing. There was a disconnect in all of those instances, though. It's different when a comrade dies. It's different when someone you know, personally, lays the losing card on the battlefield.
I could deal with it. Maybe Rainbow Dash couldn't. I empathized with her; I'd been green once too, lost friends and didn't know how to handle it. But this wasn't Desert Storm.
"And how many lives would be saved if I took out Metal Gear before it fired? If your friends' lives are the price of stopping a nuclear apocalypse, then so be it. I'll live with their deaths on my conscience." Leaning forward, towering over her, I asked, "Can you live with the deaths of thousands on yours?"
That froze her. She didn't reply for several moments. Figuring the discussion over, I stepped around her and continued on my way up the ramp. I didn't hear any sign of pursuit for the first few steps, and fooled myself into thinking that Rainbow Dash had chosen to leave me alone after that. Then came the sound of hooves beating rapidly against stone, growing louder as she drew closer to me.
"You know somethin', Snake?" Rainbow Dash's hoofbeats cut off, replaced again by the sound of her wings beating, fanning cool air over my shoulder. "I'm getting pretty sick of that attitude of yours."
"'Attitude?'" I swatted half-heartedly in her direction, but my hand didn't make contact, which only served to frustrate me more. "I'm trying to save your damn country from destruction. If you don't like that I have an 'attitude' about it, then go back to your friends and don't deal with it anymore."
Rainbow Dash wove in front of me again and pressed a hoof against my chest. She pushed, putting enough weight behind herself to stop me from taking another step. It wasn't enough to set me off, but it did get me mad.
"You shut up and listen," she said. "We've done a lot for you so far, enough to earn a little bit of respect. So I don't know where you get off treating us like we're just corpses in the final body count."
"Were you listening to a word I said?" I asked in a low growl. I placed my hand on Rainbow Dash's hoof and firmly pushed it off of my chest. "Metal Gear could fire at any moment. I stop to help your friends out of whatever trap's waiting for them, and we lose everything. You care more about yourselves than preventing a holocaust? Fine." I jabbed a finger into her face, centimeters away from her eyes. "But stay the hell out of my way."
Rainbow Dash's eyes crossed, focusing on my finger. She clenched her jaw, bared her teeth, swatted my hand away, and struck me across the cheek with the back of her hoof.
I held my cheek where she'd struck me, pain throbbing beneath my touch. Her hoof was like a rock, and she had a hell of a lot more muscle backing her punch than I'd have thought by looking at her. It was impressive.
It was also enough to set me off.
I aimed a haymaker at her face, but she dodged to my right, accidentally exposing her stomach as she fluttered away. Seizing the moment, I swung a left hook at her, and this time, my fist sank into her belly. She expelled a pained breath, but, unbowed, jabbed me hard in the chin, splitting my lip against my teeth. She jabbed again, but I wasn't so stunned that I didn't see it coming, and I caught her midway up her foreleg. I swung her, up and over my head, and threw her hard against the stony slope behind us. She rolled down the ramp, and I drew my M9, leveling it at her as she came to a halt.
Rainbow Dash scrambled back to her hooves. She panted, her chest heaving with every inhalation. Warm, sticky blood ran from my lip and down my stubbly chin. We stared at each other; she, silently daring me to take the shot, and I, daring her to test my shooting reflexes.
But neither of us moved, and the stand-off stretched on, until the rumbling, mechanical cough of an engine cut through the silence that hung between us. I glanced over my shoulder, tilting my head in the direction of the noise. "Do you hear that?" I whispered, tasting the tang of my blood.
Rainbow Dash cocked her ear. She didn't take advantage of my lapse in attention, so I assumed that meant she was listening too. The engine was idling now, and the steady, reverberating beat was joined by a cacophony of rusty, metallic clanking noises. The portcullis, I thought. The engine roared to life again, and I heard the sound of tires crushing ground underfoot, then the scraping of brakes kicking in.
I looked back at Rainbow Dash, gauging her intent. She looked past me, at the top of the ramp, the direction where the noise had come from. There wasn't any point in continuing to fight after that interruption, so I holstered the gun and ran back up to the ring-wall's entrance. Pressing myself against one of the burnished black columns framing the entrance, I leaned out ever so slightly, peeking at a covered truck that had just pulled into the courtyard.
The portcullis, which had opened to allow the truck in, slammed shut immediately with a hideous shriek that grated on my ears. Out of the covered back end of the truck came a group of soldiers, five in all, filing out in an orderly fashion and forming a single-file rank beside the truck. Oddly professional of them. Behavior like that could only be expected from a military unit which met basic competency standards, a feat which I'd thought beyond the Pegasus Wings infantry. I guess I really had just been seeing the dregs of the unit.
I heard the cabin doors open and slam shut, and saw a figure disembark from the driver's side, though I couldn't make him out clearly with a wall of soldiers blocking my view. The distant sounds of conversation carried over to where I was. I remembered the directional microphone that Pinkie Pie had somehow retrieved, drew it, and affixed the accompanying earbud.
I felt the gentle rustle of air being displaced beside me, and knew that Rainbow Dash had decided to be a looky-loo. As long as she stayed out of sight and didn't take another swing at me, she could do whatever the hell she wanted.
"...have your assignments," said a deep voice, rich with an English accent. "Stick to 'em. That'll be all, now. Get on with it."
"Sir!" said the soldiers in unison, snapping off crisp salutes. Two immediately turned and jogged to the keep, cradling their AK-47s in their arms. The remaining two moved out of sight, heading toward the spot where, I recalled, the other two trucks were. With the soldiers out of the way, I got my first decent look at the man who'd spoken. He was tall, thickly muscled, and wore a navy blue T-shirt beneath his body armor, and a ballcap bearing some sort of insignia that I couldn't make out (I guessed it to be the Pegasus Wings sigil). In one hand was a submachine gun of some sort, and I squinted hard to get a look at it.
"Looks like an HK MP-7," I murmured.
"What's that mean?" whispered Rainbow Dash. She peeked out at the courtyard from a vantage point behind my leg.
"Advanced gun," I said, using the simplest possible terms to explain. "More cutting-edge than what we've seen so far from these clowns."
Another voice came over the earbud; it was fainter and more distorted, but clearly higher in pitch than the muscular Englishman's. "Make no mistake; I'm glad that Mr. Trenton called us over here, but I worry that we'll fall behind schedule."
The Englishman looked over his shoulder to reply. "If we do, it'll be by a matter of minutes. Insignificant. Besides, it's not as if we're keeping to anyone's schedule besides our own."
"You sound less than enthused," said the other voice, coming through louder now. A shape on four legs came into view, trotting around the front of the truck and coming to a rest beside the Englishman. It was a haggered, emaciated old gray earth pony with a long, unruly gray beard that nicely contrasted with the clean-shaven face of his human contemporary, and a matching tangle of gray mane. His left eye was milky and glazed over, and I could make out a faint scar running vertically through it. There wasn't anything on his ass where the other ponies had tattoos; nothing but a patch of pale, bare skin that was tinted slightly red. Maybe he'd had his removed.
"Macbeth?" whispered Rainbow Dash.
I nodded, swallowing. "He's got the revolutionary look down pat," I remarked. "Nice to see some stereotypes transcend borders."
"The guy with him," said Rainbow Dash. "Must be that Commander Cain."
"Must be."
Macbeth and Cain turned and walked, side-by-side, to the keep. "Looking forward to meeting the prisoners?" Macbeth asked, sounding casual.
Cain snorted. "More looking forward to asking Trenton how he got my XO killed. He can tell me all about it while they're offing 'em down here."
My heart skipped a beat.
Rainbow Dash whacked me over the head with a wing. "You can hear them through that, can't you?" she hissed. "What're they saying?!"
I glared at her briefly, then turned my attention back to Cain and Macbeth. "That'd be that trap you were so worried about. They're talking about meeting the prisoners."
"Prisoners?" Rainbow Dash said, her voice cracking. "As in more than one prisoner?"
"Yeah," I sighed. Macbeth and Cain were out of sight now, and I couldn't pick up anything else on the D-mic, so I put it away and looked down into the mussed and concerned face of Rainbow Dash. "Guess they got the others. It sounds like they're planning to stick them down in the courtyard and execute them."
"What?!" Concern bloomed into full-blown fear. "Then we've got to do something!"
The steady, rusty clanking of the portcullis, followed by the truck's motor roaring to life, reverberated in my ear again. I peered out from my cover, and saw the truck backing out of the castle's gate slowly. "Why didn't they just park outside and send the personnel in?" I muttered, thinking out loud. "Could've saved themselves the hassle of—"
"Would you focus?!" Rainbow Dash snapped.
"It's just odd, is all," I said, leaning back into cover. I unslung the sniper rifle and cycled the bolt halfway, then looked at Rainbow Dash. "Looks like you got your wish." Her quizzical expression prompted me to elaborate. "If I want to move on and finish this mission, I'm going to have to help your friends out of this mess. Help you, help myself." I glanced into the breech to ensure there was a round chambered and slammed it shut.
"And that's all that matters to you, huh?" Rainbow Dash asked acidly. "Helping yourself?"
"If it were, I would never have come to Equestria in the first place," I replied. "Much less, stuck with you for as long as I have." Leaning out of cover, I raised the rifle's scope to my eye and set the crosshairs over the sentry in the right turret. He was leaning over the wall facing the forest, gesturing to someone below. Truck driver, probably. Maybe he was giving the guy directions?
I turned to place the crosshairs over the sentry in the other tower. He still faced the courtyard, resting his useless Springfield on his shoulder. "How are they playing this? Execution by firing squad, maybe have the sentries... but no, there're only two snipers for five targets, assuming they aren't executing the children. Want to make it numerically even, or else they'd panic whoever didn't get shot straight away. Make it harder to get a clean shot. Maybe that's why they trucked in those extra troops... then again, there's already a small garrison at the base. Enough for a firing squad, no doubt. So what's the point?"
"I think the point of it matters less than the fact that they're doing it," said Rainbow Dash.
Had I been talking to myself? I suppose I've just grown so used to having Otacon on an open channel over the years that I think out loud out of habit. I returned to cover, leaning the rifle against the wall beside me. Rainbow Dash was getting twitchy; her feathers rustled and her right front hoof tapped rhythmically against the cobblestone.
"If they're bringing your friends down to the courtyard to execute them, then we might be able to effect a rescue," I said. "First, though, something needs to be done about those snipers."
"You've got a gun," Rainbow Dash pointed out snidely.
"An unsuppressed gun," I said. I drew the M9 and held it out for her to examine. "This is the only weapon I have that can take them out silently, and it's an impossible shot to make from here."
Rainbow Dash snorted and rolled her eyes. "Thought you were supposed to be a badass."
I frowned, mildly stung by her barb, but mostly annoyed with her ignorance. "Quick lesson on guns, Rainbow," I said, holstering the M9 again. "Pistols are good for close and medium-range encounters, not for sharpshooting. At this range, the M9's useless. And this," I added, indicating the M24, "is perfectly suited for a shot like that, but it's conspicuous. I'd get one shot, and that'd bring the whole base down on us."
"Afraid to fight your way out?"
"Our only advantage is the element of surprise. We waste that, and we're as dead as the others." I glanced out of cover again. The other trucks, the flatbed and the covered one that were parked in the courtyard when I first passed through, were now passing beneath the portcullis. But for the ruined bits of castle dotting the area, the courtyard was now completely empty. Maybe they moved the trucks out to avoid the possibility of shooting them by mistake?
"Hmm." I cupped my chin in my hand, running my thumb along my jawline as I thought. If they sent the captured ponies into the courtyard, accompanied by a firing squad, I'd have to break cover and draw their fire. As soon as I did, the snipers would take me down, rendering the whole thing pointless. Snipers, I could handle. A firing squad, I could handle. Not together. No way to take out the snipers without drawing the rest of the personnel's attention. Might delay, or even ruin, the execution, but slim chance of making it out alive, myself. Other options?
I glanced at the frustrated cyan pony who'd bloodied my nose. She'd done a decent job as a scout before, managed to stay hidden. Might have been a fluke, given the understaffed nature of the base. Then again, maybe she was just that good. And she had that cloud manipulation ability. Couldn't argue against its usefulness.
Rainbow Dash shifted uncomfortably and averted her eyes. "Would you quit staring at me?" she muttered.
Odd; she didn't strike me as the self-conscious type. I briefly thought of Meryl, then dropped the thought with a shudder as I remembered what a pain in the ass the self-conscious type was to work with. "Don't flatter yourself," I said, rising to my feet and taking hold of the M24. She had a retort coming, but I cut her off before she could get the words out of her mouth. "It doesn't look like I'm gonna be able to take out those sentries. It'll have to be you."
"Me?" Her eyes widened, her body stiffened, and her unfurled wings drooped. "What, you mean – you mean kill them?" she stammered, her voice cracking on "kill".
"You don't have to." She seemed to relax a little. "At least, it isn't necessary. If you know a sleeper hold..." She shook her head. I considered. "A sharp enough blow to the head or the jaw should knock 'em out, if you think you can manage one."
"'Manage?'" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well," I said. "You got some shots in on me, and the worst you did was split my lip. Think you can do better on them?"
Rainbow Dash tightened her lips and narrowed her eyes. "When this is over," she muttered, "you and I are going another round."
"One thing at a time," I said, nodding knowingly. "Get going, and make it quick. And don't worry; if anything goes wrong, I'll be watching from right here."
"And if it were anypony but you, that'd be a relief." Rainbow Dash turned and fluttered down the ramp, back to the cloud she'd ridden in on. I turned back to the exit, dropped to my belly, crawled into the middle of the walkway, and pressed as closely as I could to the ground. In broad daylight, the poor camouflage might have meant my end, but hopefully, visibility was low enough to conceal me.
I rested the rifle's stock against my right shoulder, held the barrel steady in my left hand, and peered through the scope, running the crosshairs first over the sharpshooters in the turrets, then over the entrance to the keep.
Not much time on the clock, I thought grimly. Rainbow Dash had better pull through.
"Twilight?"
Twilight Sparkle blinked, and the ghostly vision was gone. She was back in the dank, feculent dungeon, with her friend, a filly, and a human corpse for company. It was like the set-up to a bad joke.
"Yeah," said Twilight. Surprised at how raspy and hoarse her voice sounded, she cleared her throat and shook her head. "Yeah, sorry. What were you... what were you saying?"
Applejack exchanged a look of concern with her sister, then turned it upon Twilight. "I said that we need to be on our way. We've still got a job t'do, an' all that."
Twilight nodded absently, muttering an affirmative. Her gaze drifted over the human guard's corpse, at the unnaturally bent leg and the concave wound in his head.
He was laughing when he died.
"Twilight...?" Applejack trotted to her side. Hesitantly, she extended a hoof toward her friend. "You in there, sugarcube?
Twilight jerked away, wrenching her gaze away from the body. "I'm fine," she said quickly. Her heart hammered in her chest, her legs trembled, and she struggled to steady her breathing. "Just fine."
"Twi...?"
Twilight shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm fine, alright? I just – you're right, we need to get going. Like Snake said, we should get back to Ponyville and send a message to the princess."
"Snake?" asked Apple Bloom, sounding hopeful. "Snake's here too?"
"We separated a li'l while ago," said Applejack, "but he helped us get down here to rescue you." To Twilight, she asked "Are you sure you're alright?"
"Yes," Twilight sniffed. Tears pooled behind shut eyelids, stinging her eyes, and she slowly released a long, staggering breath.
Shake this off, Twilight. Finish this crisis, and...
A phantom gunshot rang out in her mind, followed by the wet, splattering noise of a man's brains landing against the ground.
...and then worry about ever being able to look your friends in the eye again.
"I'll lead the way," she said softly. Her horn glowed with the same dim, purple light that had led them into the dungeon, and she strode upon trembling legs toward the stairwell. "Stay close behind me, girls."
There was no conversation as they ascended the stairs, the silence disturbed only by the soft clopping of their hooves against the stone steps. The eerie stillness was somewhat calming to Twilight, who, freed from the disturbing atmosphere of the dungeon, found herself lost in her own thoughts.
She'd told Applejack that casual killing was something that she wanted to avoid. Her attempt at shooting the guard hadn't been casual; there was no question that it was in self-defense. She knew it. Applejack, evidently, knew it, given how well she was taking her own act of killing. And the gun had been empty anyway. There was no blood on her hooves.
But I did it without hesitating. Even if she hadn't actually shot the human, the intent was there. I may as well have killed him myself.
It was irrational, she realized, to hold herself morally culpable for something that never happened. It was necessary. It was kill-or-be-killed. And I didn't even kill him, Applejack did. But her justifications rang cold and hollow, and her guilt was not so easily dismissed.
She could only wonder how Applejack felt, if this was another facade for her own benefit, or if she felt as sick with herself for killing the human as Twilight felt for almost killing him.
It wasn't long before they reached the top of the stairwell. Twilight ascended the final steps and came into the keep's antechamber, lost in her thoughts and oblivious to the world around her. Applejack's sharp cry of surprise snapped her out of her stupor in time to see a Pegasus Wings soldier on her right leveling his rifle at her. On her left was another; they must have pressed themselves against the walls beside the stairwell entrance to avoid detection. And she, so wrapped up in her ruminations, completely missed it.
Stupid, she berated herself. Stupid, careless, irresponsible.
"Stay where you are," the soldier on her right commanded her.
Twilight's aura intensified. A brilliant burst of pink shot from the tip of her horn and struck the soldier in the chest, knocking him backward into one of the fluorescent lamps. Both tumbled to the ground, one of the lamp's bulbs shattering upon impact.
There was a sharp crack, the sound of bone shattering. Twilight whirled, and saw the other soldier doubled over in pain, clutching his pelvis, Applejack standing with her back to him. The soldier dropped to the floor and lay on his side, curled into himself and gasping breathlessly.
"Trap," said Applejack. "Looks like Rainbow was right."
"Yeah." Twilight turned the the double doors that led to the makeshift helipad. "We need to book it. Keep Apple Bloom close." She inhaled sharply, dug her hoof against the floor—
The doors burst inward, their sudden motion and loud creaking startling Twilight into stillness. Into the antechamber came Rarity, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie. Rarity looked dejected, Fluttershy terrified, and Pinkie Pie wore an apologetic smile. Towering over the three of them was Trenton, his burning eye focused upon Twilight alone. Slung under his left arm was a little bundle of purple and green, whose plump face was frozen in an expression of terror, and whose wide, green eyes darted fretfully around the room, before landing on Twilight and lingering there.
Twilight's breath caught.
The shock of seeing Spike in Trenton's clutches was enough to wipe away any and all traces of guilt and trauma. She didn't see the human with his broken leg and skull; she didn't feel revulsion at what she'd nearly done to him. All she saw was Spike in the arms of a monster. All she felt was an overriding need to protect him.
Perhaps this is what Applejack was talking about.
Trenton drew his sword and placed the blade beneath Spike's chin. "This cuts matter at the molecular level," said Trenton, his voice perfectly conversational. "Your friends may not know what that means, but I know that you do."
All eyes were on the baby dragon, all save Twilight's, which burned white-hot at Trenton.
"I've long wondered whether that means it is capable of cutting through dragon hide," Trenton continued. "I theorize that it would. Stand down, or we will find out together."
The glow enveloping Twilight's horn shone brighter, and her mane and tail billowed, caught up in a shimmering purple whirlwind that swirled around her body. A low, unsettling hum began to fill the room. All the while, Trenton stared, unmoving, his blade millimeters from Spike's neck.
"Twilight," Spike whimpered. "Please."
Spike's pitiable, frightened tone, and the pleading look in his eye, pierced the armor of Twilight's outrage. The blind anger that overtook her slipped away, and the heavy weight of the day's events again settled onto her shoulders.
I'm sorry, Spike. But I can't risk losing you.
The storm of her aura died down; her mane and tail hung limp and unkempt, and she lowered her gaze to the floor. Trenton pulled his blade away from Spike's throat, and the dragon released a quiet sigh of relief.
Applejack spat. "Dirty coward. Hidin' behind children's all yer good for."
"The tactic works," said Trenton. He pointed his sword at the corridor which led to the great hall. "Walk. Make no move to escape, or we will revisit my theory."
Unable to look her friends in the eye, Twilight, head bowed, simply did as she was told.
By the guardsponies' accounts, Macbeth was supposed to be a bold and charismatic revolutionary. He may well have been, but to Twilight, he certainly didn't look the part.
The scruffy, unwashed gray earth pony stood on the dais at the far end of the great hall, in front of the old throne. At his side stood a tall, heavily muscled human in a black T-shirt and blue combat vest, a Pegasus Wings ballcap on his head. In one hand, he held a gun that was larger than the pistol Snake had used, but smaller than the soldiers' rifles. The human leaned against the alcove wall, staring disinterestedly out the window. The old pony saw them, and curled his chapped and cracked lips into a pensive frown.
"Five intruders," said Macbeth. His decrepit appearance did not match his voice, which transformed every spoken word into a velvety purr. "Five intruders, for six elements. Mr. Trenton, forgive my skepticism, but I just don't know that these ponies are who you said they were."
Trenton knows who we are? But of course he did, after the way he spoke to her before.
How, though? Despite their status as three-time saviors of Equestria, she and her friends enjoyed a quiet life of anonymity in rural Ponyville. It was rare that somepony outside of their hometown recognized them; even among the Canterlot elite, they were simply nameless country folk. But Trenton knew who she was by sight. And that didn't make a great deal of sense.
"I assure you," said Trenton, "these are five of the six bearers of the Elements of Harmony."
So Trenton knew who they all were – or at least, he knew enough about Twilight to make an educated guess about the others' identities. She could write off his knowledge of the Elements of Harmony; Macbeth could easily have told him about. But he'd also been in exile for years; there'd be no way for him to know who the current bearers were. Trenton did, by sight. And that made very little sense.
She noted that Trenton and his employers did not seem to consider Spike an intruder, then noted with a jolt of shock that Trenton failed to mention Snake entirely. She glanced over her shoulder at the ninja, whose fiery blue gaze stared straight ahead at Macbeth.
What is he playing at?
"You said you had a complete set," said the human in a bored (yet strikingly accented) voice. "There's five of them; there ought to be six. Maybe you've got the wrong ponies."
"These are the same ponies I encountered in the forest – Twilight Sparkle, Rarity, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy – the Elements of Magic, Generosity, Honesty, Laughter, and Kindness, respectively," said Trenton. "Where the Element of Loyalty, Rainbow Dash, has gone, I know not."
Rarity's eyes lit up. "That showboat?" she said primly, tossing her head and throwing her mane about her shoulders. "She simply couldn't stand that she was part of the rearguard and decided to be a drama queen about it. We came to the conclusion that it would be best for everypony involved if she just left."
"Oh yeah," Pinkie said in a long, thick drawl, rolling her eyes. "I mean, Rainbow Dash has her bad days – I call those days 'Gildays' – but she just totally lost it this time."
Rarity and Pinkie Pie glanced expectantly at Fluttershy. After a few moments of nervous stuttering, she managed a timid nod. "She had... hurt feelings."
Hurt feelings? Losing control? Ditching us because of an argument with Rarity? Twilight crinkled her nose. That doesn't sound like Rainbow Dash at all.
"Not that it particularly matters," Rarity added. "We do have an able replacement. Do we not, Spikey-Wikey?" She flashed the hapless baby dragon under Trenton's arm a comforting smile, and he, despite himself, returned it a little.
"Sixth member of their gang buggered off," the human remarked. He turned to regard the group directly for the first time. He looked old, maybe slightly older than Snake (though Twilight admittedly hadn't seen enough humans to make anything more than an educated guess on the subject), and his face, unlike Snake's, was hairless. "No telling what she knows. If she talks, that'll definitely complicate matters. No way we can let ourselves fall behind schedule now."
Macbeth nodded without looking at him. "Agreed. However, for now, I believe I am satisfied regarding the identities of our prisoners." He hopped off of the dais and trotted toward the prisoners, coming to a halt a few paces away from the assembled group. His left eye was damaged, blind, but his right was amber, with a wide, wild look to it.
"So. I know who you are." The stink of his breath forced Twilight to breathe through her mouth. Quiet sounds of disgust, and heavy breathing, told her that her friends had a similar reaction. To have such fetid breath as to disgust ponies standing so far away was downright impressive.
Macbeth didn't seem to care about their reactions. "However, there's still the matter of my introductions. I am called Macbeth, late of Celestia's cabinet, last Equestrian Secretary of War. You may or may not have heard of me. If there's one thing in this world which Celestia loves more than tea, it's airtight control over the history books. The gentleman behind me is Commander Alistair Cain, of the Pegasus Wings army, a mercenary unit which has pledged its loyalty to my cause."
Cain nodded at them, then turned his attention back to the window.
"And you have, of course, already met Mr. Trenton, the freelance specialist who brokered our arrangement."
Twilight looked over her shoulder at Trenton, to see if he had any sort of reaction to his introduction, but he stood perfectly still, at attention.
"Together," said Macbeth, drawing himself up proudly, "we aim to force an end to Equestria's thousand year history of unbroken autocratic rule." He threw a grin over his shoulder at Cain. "Isn't that right, Commander?"
Cain murmured in agreement, shrugged, and continued to stare out the window.
Never had Twilight met somepony with so little regard for Princess Celestia, or the golden age her reign had brought about. A thousand years of unbroken autocratic rule meant a thousand years of peace and prosperity. Little in the way of war, or internal conflict, and an economic bounty that benefited all citizens everywhere, under the watchful eye of a benevolent ruler. Who, in their right mind, would want to put an end to that?
But I guess I shouldn't assume that he's in his "right mind," should I?
"Let me get this straight," said Twilight. She pulled back a pace, hoping to gain some relief from the mad revolutionary's breath. "Equestria exists in a state of utopia, which has persisted across a millenium, and you not only think that this is a bad thing, but you want to put an end to it?"
"Oh, it sounds silly when you put it that way," Macbeth chuckled, shaking his head.
"It doesn't just sound silly," said Twilight. "It's madness. We're in a golden age. Why the hay would anypony want to tamper with that?"
"Equestria has prospered, I do not deny that," said Macbeth, nodding. "But consider this: our nation is now as it was fifty years ago, and it was then as it was five hundred years ago. The evolution of our society has plateaued, and there is no change in sight." His intact eye flashed, and his grin widened dangerously. "I intend to force that change."
"But you just said that things were fine the way that they are," said Pinkie Pie, tilting her head. "If things are dandy, why mess with 'em?"
"Because the world continues to change," said Macbeth. "And we do not change with it. And if we continue, dead in the water as we are, then the world will eventually evolve beyond our capacity to adapt to it."
"We've known peace for a thousand years," Twilight said skeptically. "I don't think that's liable to change anytime soon."
"What you call 'peace,' I call 'stagnation,'" said Macbeth. His voice was cool and calm, and his every word sounded deliberate, as though rehearsed. He might have been planning to give this speech for a long time.
Or maybe he's given it before.
"Change never comes of its own accord, Ms. Sparkle." Macbeth drew in a deep breath before he continued speaking. "This truth is written into our very history as a nation. Unless we will the change that Equestria needs into being, our society will remain static for all time. The pattern of change, of forced adaptation, must continue."
"Yer really gonna lecture Twilight about history?" asked Applejack. "Ain't a contest of wits that yer likely to win, partner."
"The facts need no interpretation; they are what they are," said Macbeth. "One thousand years ago, Princess Luna attempted to seize the throne for herself. Conflict ensued, and Equestria was changed. Before that, Luna and Celestia cast down the demon Discord, and Equestria was changed. And untold eons before that, Discord wrested Equestria from the rule of the god-emperor, and Equestria was changed. Every iteration of our civilization came about as a response to a world-changing conflict; each time, we fought, we struggled, and we were forced to adapt."
"The god-emperor?" thought Twilight. What does that even mean? No history she was familiar with went much farther back than the union of the three races and the founding of Equestria, though granted, there were gaps in that history attributed to the rise of Discord. If he was referencing some event which predated Equestria itself, it was nothing with which she was familiar. Her mind was a vast repository of arcane and historical knowledge, perhaps rivaling even that of the Canterlot library. Pig-headed as it made her feel to think it, if she wasn't familiar with it, it likely didn't exist. There was no "god-emperor" in Equestrian history, and while the Princesses may have fit that bill, they never proclaimed themselves as such.
"All this, of course, is to say that conflict is the greatest agent of change," Macbeth added. "This I am quite certain in. Meeting Commander Cain, and learning the history of his world, only confirmed my belief."
Cain released a minute, disgruntled sigh. "You wanna leave me out of this?" he grumbled.
"He's a fucking chickenshit retard," Captain Case had said of Macbeth. Twilight found herself beginning to agree with him. The Macbeth standing in front of her, speechifying with abandon, was a marked contrast to the charismatic revolutionary she'd overheard the guardsponies describing. Still, Macbeth feeding them his story and philosophy might have its benefits – "know thy enemy" was a cynical expression, but not an unwise one.
"Is this why you staged that revolt in Stalliongrad, all those years ago?" asked Twilight.
Macbeth's eye focused on Twilight, and his grin turned wolfish. "One among the Elements has heard of me," he purred. "Celestia is losing her touch. Though whatever you've been told about me, I doubt it's the complete story."
His tone and continued disrespect for the Princess drew a shudder from Twilight.
"Long before I met Cain, and learned of his human army," said Macbeth, "I raised a cadre of followers and assailed a very specific location in Stalliongrad, in order to bring about the change that I longed for." He rounded on Twilight, leaning close enough to her face that her horn poked noticeably into his forehead. She tried to back away from him, but he pressed closer, digging her horn deeper and breaking the skin.
"Do you know why I chose Stalliongrad, specifically, to launch my revolution?" whispered Macbeth. The stink of his breath was inescapable now, and Twilight's disgust was further compounded when she noticed a thin trickle of blood running down the length of her horn. "I'm waiting, Ms. Sparkle."
All eyes, even that of Trenton and those of the bored Commander Cain, were on Twilight as she stammered out a sub-audible "No".
"Because it is a symbol," hissed Macbeth. He pulled away, dislodging Twilight's horn. The gash in his forehead was not deep, but blood dripped down his muzzle all the same. "A symbol of Celestia's devotion to her static regime. Thirty-seven years ago, in the midst of a dispute with the griffons over settling rights north of Griffonstone, Princess Celestia vanished. I stepped in as regent and mobilized our armies for a preemptive strike. By the time she returned from wherever she had gone, the disputed zone was a tinderbox, ready to ignite. All it would take was a single shot."
"Now, that's as poor a fabrication as I've ever heard," sniffed Rarity. "Tension with the griffons all those years ago is common knowledge, but as to your embellishment about the Princess disappearing? I may not be a scholarly as Twilight, but I know quite well that none of what you're saying—"
"The Princess tells you it didn't happen!" roared Macbeth, suddenly livid. "All information regarding her disappearance was suppressed to prevent the population from panicking, and to avoid alerting the griffons to a weakness they could exploit! At the time, nopony in the cabinet knew what had happened, but she was gone, and in her absence, I rose to the occasion!" Macbeth angrily smacked his chest with his hoof. "I served Equestria as its highest civilian officer, bypassing the legions of distant relations making up the royal family through whom the line of succession ran. Not one of them could ever have driven our great engine of war to victory. Not one of them had the vision or the tactical acumen to overcome the griffons. So I took power, to wage the conflict which would usher in the next evolution of our society! And then..."
He dropped his voice to a low, rumbling whisper. "Then she returned. Said nothing of her whereabouts, nothing of the time she had lost. But whatever happened to her, wherever she went, it was enough to change her mind entirely about the use of military force. She unilaterally withdrew our forces from the griffons' borders and stripped me of my title for what she called 'taking unnecessary liberties'." He spat. "Two years later, that pacifistic drivel she called the Pax Equestria took effect."
The Pax Equestria. Twilight knew the accord well. In the wake of that territorial dispute, Celestia declared that Equestria could never live up to its ideals of peace and universal friendship so long as it maintained standing army. She decreed that Equestria forever forsook war as a means unto an end, as a way of life, and disbanded the military. Many ranking officers and members of the infantry found their way into the Royal Guard, or into other civilian militia bodies, but as a national institution, the military simply did not exist.
And life is better for it, thought Twilight. We're untroubled by our neighbors; we've enjoyed good relations with them. The griffons, the minotaurs, the zebras. The yaks remain recalcitrant, but they'll come around sooner or later. The Pax Equestria has done more for the security of the country in thirty-five years than the military ever did in a thousand.
And Macbeth wanted to undo that, to enact the military, and war, as an institution. All in the name of progress.
"So some of what'cher sayin's true," said Applejack, "even if the rest of it sounds more sour than a jug'a horse cider. Say we take your word for it, though. What's that got ta do with whatever happened in Stalliongrad?"
Macbeth giggled – giggled, like an unhinged schoolfilly. The shift from livid to melancholic to manic was more disturbing than the tittering shrillness of the laugh.
"Oh, everything, my little hayseed," he said, and Applejack snorted, stung and annoyed. "The war may never have happened, but the engine was never dismantled – merely retired, and left to gather dust. Equestria's entire cache of modern military marvels was put away, like a toy that a schoolfoal has outgrown. That cache was located in Stalliongrad. It took me many long years to learn this – and many more to formulate my scheme, still more to convince enough of my old lieutenants to follow me once more – but I finally seized that cache, and declared myself in open rebellion of the crown. The crown herself soon arrived to personally draw my scheme to an end."
His eye glinted. "Little did Celestia know that seizing the cache was never the whole of it. It was merely to act as a spark, which would ignite the flames of rebellion all across Equestria. Only... that never happened." Disgusted, he shook his head. "The complacent ponies of Equestria failed to act by my example, and our stagnation continued unabated. And from that, I took the lesson that ponies cannot be counted on to advance their own society."
"A-and..." Fluttershy gulped as she nervously stammered her question. "And w-what did the Princess decide to do w-with you?"
The smarmy, self-satisfied grin that Macbeth wore wavered, shifted, until it changed into an expression of real emotion – a sad, reflective smile.
"She knew I was broken. Knew I'd learned that nopony would ever side with me against her. So she exiled me from Equestria, for all time. And here, I came, deep in the Everfree, to live out my final, agonizing days in seclusion." The mad grin split his face again, and he stared up into the blazing eye of Trenton. "But sometimes, the universe has different plans. Once again, I am given the chance to save Equestria from stagnation. I have learned the lessons of my past failures; I will not trust in ponies to bring about their own change. Equestria will sail into the future, borne aloft by Pegasus Wings."
Pinkie Pie rolled her eyes. "I've eaten chunky peanut butter that was less nutty than you."
"Genius is never understood in its own time." Macbeth's wild eye narrowed. "I must admit, this is not how I'd hoped our meeting would go. I had hoped to win you to the cause, rather. Surely, the six saviors of Equestria condemning Celestia would rally Equestria to my banner, perhaps even convince her to step down without my having to fire a shot." He sighed and drooped his ears, but brightened almost instantaneously. "Thankfully, I know another way you can serve the revolution. Trenton?"
A loud and sudden thud drew Twilight's attention to Trenton. The ninja had dropped Spike to the ground; he'd landed on his belly with a groan and a sheepish look. Trenton strode to the door in the alcove where Cain stood, pushed it open, and stood to the side, pointing stiffly through it like a wooden doorman. "Through there."
Rarity took a few steps forward and peered at the door. She stared up at Trenton, blinking in confusion. "You're not going to tell us how walking through a door will benefit your scruffy employer's cause?"
"Ms. Sparkle," said Trenton, "please inform your friends what it means for a blade to cut at the molecular level."
"Rarity," said Twilight. "Just do what he says, please."
Rarity scoffed and glowered at the ground, trotting reluctantly toward the door. "It figures. We're all going to be executed, and I'm going to die looking frumpy."
Spike followed Rarity, with Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie in tow. The pegasus looked the dragon over cautiously, examining him for any boo-boos that the ninja's rough handling may have left on him.
"You know," grumbled Spike as he strolled past the ninja, "you could have just set me down."
Pinkie nudged his rotund head with her nose. "Aw, like a little old pratfall could hurt a guy like you."
"Well, yeah," said Spike, casually rubbing his chest with his knuckles. "Dragon scales, and all that. It was just rude. Just because you're a crazy cyclops, you can't have manners? Geez louise."
Applejack and Apple Bloom walked ahead of Twilight, who felt Macbeth's steely gaze on her as she moved, sending a disturbed shudder down her spine. Trenton's eye was on Applejack as she passed through the door, but before Apple Bloom could reach the threshold, he stepped in front of her. "Not you," he said.
"What?" asked Applejack incredulously. She turned on Trenton and dug a hoof into the dirt. "You two-timin' snake! Get away from her!" She lunged at Trenton, who swiftly drew his sword and leveled the tip at her face. Applejack skidded to a stop with Trenton's sword centimeters away from her nose. Her gaze ran up the single-edged blade, to Trenton's eye, where she glared furiously at him.
Macbeth laughed and stomped his hooves in applause. "Oh, I thought something like this might happen. Allow me to explain." He trotted to the door and leaned in the frame, draping a foreleg over Apple Bloom and drawing her close. The filly's eyes went wide, and she released a quiet, mewling sound of discontent.
Addressing Applejack, Macbeth spoke. "Miss... I'm sorry, what is your name?"
"Applejack," said Trenton.
"Miss Applejack." Macbeth dipped his head in a gesture that faintly resembled courtesy. "When Trenton informed us that we had a filly in our midst, and that there were six ponies en route to retrieve her, we determined that we had no compunctions against disposing of the latter, but that we were less inclined to let the former share that fate."
"Oh, give it to me straight," snapped Applejack.
"He means that they're fine with killing us," Twilight supplied, glancing from Trenton, to Macbeth, to Cain. "Just not with killing a foal, like Apple Bloom." She frowned.
"I couldn't have put it any better myself," said Macbeth. He paused to consider his words. "Well, actually, I did, and it was too much for your provincial brain to handle."
"I'll provincial you," Applejack growled. "We didn't march all this way out here just so you could—"
"Applejack," said Twilight. "Do what he says."
A look of shock came over Applejack's face, and she stared at Twilight open-mouthed. "You serious?" she asked. "You expect me to leave my sister with these sons of—"
"Yes," said Twilight tersely. "I do. Because if we do, then she'll at least be out of harm's way."
"So?!"
"So she'll be safe while we break free from whatever asinine trap they've laid for us," said Twilight, shooting the assembled group of villains a dirty look. "We'll come back for her."
"Such certainty," Macbeth cooed condescendingly. "Carry that certainty a while longer, and the next several minutes might be interesting."
Apple Bloom, fearful, looked at her sister with wide, watery eyes. "AJ..."
"S'alright, sister; no need t'fret." Applejack looked into the eyes of her sister, softening her stony expression. "Twilight's right. This ain't the worst jam we've ever been stuck in."
"I jus' got'cha back, Applejack." Apple Bloom looked away, at the floor, and shut her eyes. "Don't make me lose you all over again."
Applejack's expression softened further. Blinking rapidly, she ducked under Trenton's legs and embraced her sister tightly. The hug lasted mere moments, as Trenton roughly took hold of the back of Applejack's neck and pulled the ladies of the Apple family apart. Wresting herself from Trenton's grip, Applejack fired a final seething look of hatred at the ninja, and skulked away to join her friends in the expansive, ruin-dotted courtyard.
"I don't expect you to believe this, Miss Sparkle," said Macbeth. Twilight looked sidelong at him, narrowing her eyes. "But I do intend to take care of this little one in the absence of her family. I've always wanted a protégée of my own."
Apple Bloom's lips quivered, and she broke into open sobbing.
Twilight felt cold anger once again come over her. "You're a hypocrite," she growled. "Ordering your cowardly minion not to kill ponies, only to turn right around and execute us."
"Trenton mentioned that little rule, did he?" Macbeth's eye glinted.
Twilight froze, as she realized that she just came close to blowing their cover. Trenton inclined his head slightly at Twilight.
But Macbeth just shrugged and smiled blithely. "Tainting the revolution by spilling the blood of innocents before I reveal myself is not how I'd prefer to go about this, but one plays the cards that one is dealt. I don't long for bloodshed, Ms. Sparkle. I just accept its inevitability."
It was a lie. At best, it was a pathological lie. Case's warning about Metal Gear, and Snake's assurances of its raw power, mixed with Macbeth's megalomania to create the unsettling certainty that he planned to kill thousands with it, that he'd do so without a moment's regret. But if Trenton didn't tell them about Snake, then they couldn't have known that she knew about Metal Gear, and that was a precious advantage that Twilight did not want to give away.
"And what about your treatment of children?" Twilight pressed. "You'll hide Apple Bloom under your skirt, but not Spike?"
Macbeth cocked his head and blinked. "'Spike?'"
Once again, Trenton clarified. "The pet dragon."
"Ah!" Macbeth chuckled and shook his head. "Of course; how silly of me to forget that dragons are people too. Just like pudding skins, and wheelbarrows." He laughed and mirthfully whacked Trenton in the thigh. Trenton, rock-steady and dispassionate as ever, failed to react.
"However attached you are to your pet dragon, it is a thing, and I will not afford it respect," said Macbeth. "The most I'll allow is letting it die with you, with dignity, and even that taxes the limits of my generosity."
"None of us are dying today," said Twilight firmly.
Macbeth reacted with the same knowing, condescending smile. "Again, Ms. Sparkle, I'm counting on that certainty to make what's coming interesting." He nodded in the direction of the stairs. "Go to your friends, now."
Once again, with no other visible option, Twilight Sparkle could only do as she was told, and slink away to join the others. None of us are dying today, she repeated to herself, again and again. She wasn't sure what to expect, or what Macbeth intended to visit upon them, but as she took in the familiar scenery around her, she remembered that the castle was already the site of their first great victory together, and that thought offered her some comfort through the uncertainty.
The one-eyed earth pony watched Twilight descend the stairs for a short while, before returning to the great hall to stand beside Commander Cain. Behind them both was Trenton, still and unmoving as a statue.
Macbeth looked to his human comrade. "You seem rather disinterested in all of this, Commander."
Cain shrugged and adjusted the visor on his ballcap. "I've heard your sales pitch before. Can't say that it has quite the same impact after the ten millionth time." He raised and crooked his left arm, and glanced at his wrist-mounted keyboard. "Would have preferred that we just shot them here and now. We've got a genuine sense of urgency now."
"You can't fault me for trying to sway them," said Macbeth. He rested his chin on the bare window sill and deeply inhaled the night air. "And besides, I'm eager to see if Trenton's machines live up to their considerable hype."
Cain glanced over his shoulder, regarded Trenton for a moment, then looked back down at his wrist. He raised his right hand to the keyboard and brushed the keys delicately with his fingertips. "Waste of time, waste of energy. But you're the one signing my paycheck."
Twilight joined her friends in the center of the courtyard, and was immediately greeted by a warm nuzzle from Pinkie and a proud grin from Rarity. "I'm beginning to wonder if I missed my calling," the white unicorn mused. "Perhaps I should have gone into acting, rather than fashion."
"Acting?" asked Twilight. She looked over her shoulder, at the brijeb window where the revolutionary and his human minions stood watching them, and then back at Rarity. "What was the act?"
"Oh," said Rarity, waving a hoof, "that bit about Rainbow Dash getting her feathers in a fuss and flying off? A little collaborative misdirection that we all worked out together, just in case something went wrong."
Hope lit within Twilight's heart, and she cracked a tiny smile. "So Rainbow Dash, right now..."
"Is ready to swoop to the rescue at any moment!" said Pinkie Pie. "So don't worry, Twilight. We got this."
"Which is also why we let ourselves get captured, instead of putting up a fight," added Fluttershy. She bashfully lowered her head and glanced up at Twilight. "I mean, if it were anyone else, we probably could have... but Trenton grabbed Spike before we could do anything, and..."
Rarity stiffened at Fluttershy's words, and her grin faded. For a fleeting instant, she glanced at Spike, who sat upon a piece of rubble that was close to twice his height, cradling his head in his hands and resting his elbows on his thighs.
Fluttershy noticed Rarity's change in demeanor and sniffled. "S-sorry."
"Y'all made the right call," said Applejack. "For Spike, 'n for yourselves. This way, we got ourselves a fightin' chance."
"Yeah, yeah," Spike grumbled. He kicked the back of his feet against the heavy piece of rubble. "I still think I could have taken him."
Twilight's spirits, lifted briefly by the news that Rainbow Dash was their ace-in-the-hole, died down again at the sight of the dejected dragon. "Speaking of," she said, trotting to his side, "are you okay Spike? He didn't hurt you, did he?"
"Who, me? Nah." Spike shook his head emphatically.
He was making an effort to be brave. It may have fooled everypony else, but Twilight knew him better than that, and could see right through him.
"Still..." Twilight lowered her voice and leaned in closer. "That had to have been scary, what he was doing to you. If you need to talk..."
"I'm fine," Spike insisted. "No need to worry about me, Twilight. It happened. I'm over it." His words were confident, but there was an uncertain waver in his voice.
Twilight leaned closer and looked him in the eye. "Spike..."
Spike sighed and turned his head away from Twilight. He shut his eyes and cupped his hands in his lap, nervously pressing his thumbs against each other. "Can we talk about it later, Twi?" His voice was quiet, but thick and choked.
Proving himself had been Spike's entire motivation for accompanying them on this journey. Being held hostage by Trenton had to have been a serious blow to his confidence, never mind whatever psychological trauma it inflicted. His relative maturity made it easy to forget sometimes that Spike was still very young.
And I agreed to bring him along. She regretted the decision after the encounter with the timberwolves. Seeing Spike helpless in Trenton's grasp only reinforced her belief that she'd made the wrong call.
Whatever happens to him out here is my responsibility. I can't let him go through that again. I won't.
Twilight bumped her nose against Spike's forehead affectionately, drawing from him a hiccuping laugh and a smile. "Of course, Spike," she said softly. "Whenever you're ready." She turned back to her friends, bottling up her self-blame and crushing it down. They had to survive now, and she had to ensure it, so that she'd be able to castigate herself properly later.
"Twilight," said Fluttershy. "Where is Snake? He wasn't with you when we met up in the keep."
Applejack glanced at the nearby portcullis. "We split up. We heard that the bad guys' world-blowin'-up machine was just about up an' runnin', so he ran off in a hurry to take it out."
"Leaving us behind to fend for ourselves?" asked Rarity flatly. She raised an eyebrow. "How heroic."
Twilight glared at Rarity. "We wouldn't have gotten this far without—"
"Uh, Twilight?" Pinkie Pie interrupted, cutting off Twilight mid-rebuttal. "Sorry to butt in, but..." She turned and raised her rear into the air, looking over her shoulder at Twilight and blinking.
Rarity stared, perplexed. "That hardly seems appropriate, Miss Pie. You've been consorting with Rainbow Dash far too often for your own good."
"Oh, get your mind out of the gutter," said Pinkie. "I'm trying to show you something important!"
Twilight was about to ask just what was important about Pinkie Pie's posterior when she noticed her tail. It was ramrod straight, and shaking rapidly. She blanched. "Twitchy tail."
"Twitchy tail?" Spike repeated. He leaped off of the rubble and grabbed his own tail, wringing it tightly. "Twitchy tail?!"
The distant crash of heavy metal carried to their ears from the direction of the gatehouse. A second later came a noise that shocked – and confused – everypony in earshot.
"Um..." said Fluttershy, "there's no grazing land in the Everfree Forest... right?"
Twilight, trembling and backpedaling with a slow, tremulous gait, shook her head
"Then..." Fluttershy looked back at the keep. "Why did we just hear a moo?"
Occupying the pedestal in the center of the castle's gatehouse, where once the Elements of Harmony had lain dormant, was a large metal box, stamped with the emblem of an arms manufacturer and labeled with what appeared to be a nonsensical string of letters. Within the box was a slumbering giant, the first of a line of weapons meant to usher in a new era in unmanned warfare.
At an electronic command from Commander Cain, made via wrist-mounted keyboard and delivered via sophisticated CODEC technology, the giant stirred, awakened, and stretched its legs. The top of its head struck the lid of its container forcefully with a heavy clang, creating a convex dent on the box's outside. It crouched as low as it could, and sprang upward, this time knocking the lid of the box clear. The sound of metal striking metal with such force carried over the castle grounds, to the ears of five frightened ponies and a baby dragon standing in a courtyard.
It rose upon legs of cloned tissue, artificial muscle, and sinew. Its head was a T-shaped metallic construct, a diminutive copy of the head of another two-legged engine of mass destruction. At the top of its head, a dome-shaped eye swiveled, taking in the world for the first time.
When designing Metal Gear REX, Dr. Hal Emmerich incorporated an element whose necessity his superiors questioned: a loudspeaker, and the ability to project a beastly roar through that speaker. Officially, he contended that it was designed for psychological warfare, that the sight of so gargantuan a fighting machine roaring would cripple the morale of any enemy on the battlefield (off the record, he included it because he thought it was cool). But the designers of this weapon had a far different design influence. They wanted to put the enemy at ease, lull them into complacency, before trampling them underfoot.
And also, there was just something deeply ironic about a killing machine which mooed.
The weapon, now cognizant of its surroundings, quickly determined the fastest way to reach the source of the signal which awakened it. Coiling its mighty legs, it leaped through the hole in the gatehouse ceiling and landed in the makeshift helipad, barely avoiding (and entirely failing to notice) the sleeping body of the Finnish mechanic. In another bound, it landed on the arch where the ghillie suit-clad sniper lay unconscious. With a final bound, it landed atop the roof of the keep. Magic-enhanced masonry protected the ancient structure from collapsing under the weapon's weight, but the shock of its landing sent waves through the building's aged walls. A layer of dust shook from the ceiling of the Great Hall. Its occupants, save the despondent Apple Bloom and the stoic Trenton, glanced upward as they were peppered.
In the courtyard, six pairs of eyes were drawn to the roof of the keep. Six jaws dropped, and six hearts skipped the same beat.
On a turret adjacent to the courtyard's portcullis, a young and tempestuous sniper rested his rifle against a wall and leaned forward, awestruck at the sight of the weapon. Behind him, poised to strike, was Rainbow Dash, who likewise forgot herself, and gaped.
Hidden behind a wall which enclosed an arcane portal, Solid Snake stared at the weapon through a rifle's scope. His jaw clenched, his teeth crushed together, and his finger lightly traced the trigger of his gun.
"Metal Gear."