//------------------------------//
// End Her, Rook 
// Story: Appledashery 
// by Just Essay 
//------------------------------//

	"Finish him!" Flam shouted above the ensuing melee as the platform rocked and rocked underneath.  "Finish that fuddyduddy, already!"

"He's almost down for the count!" Flim added, reloading their gatling gun and swiveling it to face the stumbling Red Rook.  "Light him up, my little ponies!"

The air filled with the screams of whizzing bullets.  Stu Leaves grunted, limping forward as the hydraulic joints of his mech shattered one after another.  Soon, he could only shamble sideways, handicapped by his own weight.  Nevertheless—between panting breaths—he summoned the fortitude to knock aside a few more guards as they rushed his figure.

From a distance, Apple Jewell winced.  When one bullet grazed Stu's shoulder—filling the air with a splash of crimson—she about shrieked.  "Good heavens!  Stop this madness at once!"  She stumbled forward, stretching a dainty hoof.  "Surely the rogue doesn't deserve—"

Flam suddenly rushed in, grasping the Cider Princess' shoulders.  "Nope!  Best not get too close, my dear!  Shindig would never forgive us if a single hair of your precious coat got scalded!"

"But... but..."  Apple Jewell blinked, fidgeting.  "I reckon I'm perfectly—"

"What kind of brothers would we be if we left you to the whim of dishonored riff-raff?"  Flam escorted her far from Flim and the thundering gatling gun.  "Now, look away, your Majesty.  This is nor for your fair eyes."

The mare's nostrils flared.  As she was rushed towards the sidelines, she passed by the guards who were dragging off Gustave, Mulia, Joe, and a certain chaperone.  Glancing briefly aside, Apple Jewell took a deep breath... and collapsed.  "Ohh!  Oh dear!" She chest-planted in the rubble, almost ruining her silken gown.  "My heels!"

"Criminy!" Flam stammered above the noise of bullet fire.

"I... I-I can't move!" Apple Jewell whimpered.  "Oh, what a distressing situation!"

Two of the guards minding the prisoners instantly stopped what they were doing and rushed over to assist.  "Your Majesty!  Let us help you!"

"Would you?" Apple Jewell sniffled.  "Oh, thank you most kindly.  I do declare, I am exceptionally fragile today..."  As she shivered, her green eyes wandered past the shoulders of Flam and the two other stallions.

A pair of purple eyes blinked back.  Epcot smiled.  Then, holding her breath—FLASH!—the chaperone morphed into a steam venting sphere.  She twirled and twirled and twirled, venting hot air in every direction.  Soon, the roped net ensnaring her caught flame, then dissolved to ash.  While the guards weren't looking, she shot up into the air and swiftly bolted away from the scene.

Apple Jewell watched.  She blinked, then bore a dainty smile.

SMASSSSH!

She, Flam, and the guards spun about, gasping.

"Rrnnnghh!" Stu Leaves formed a crater in the platform with his metal limbs.  At last, torn asunder by gatling gun bullets, his suit peeled away all around him.  He slumped out of the mech, collapsing hard to the ground as the noise and chaos finally ended.

"Hold your fire!" Flim shouted.  Cracking the joints in his neck, the stallion trotted over from the red hot cannon while all the soldiers around him kept their rifles trained.  He approached Stu slowly, icily.

Wheezing, the stallion looked up.  His pained eyes were glazed with tears.

"I suppose you think that was pretty heroic what you did just now, eh, boyo?" Flim asked.

Stu shuddered.  "Whatever happens..."  He gritted his teeth.  "Promise me you won't hurt Applejack."

Flim stared.  He leaned down, his eyes narrow and icy.  "...I make no promises for filth."  And he bucked Stu upside the head.

"Grkkk!"  Stu's eyes rolled back, and he slumped to the floor, drooling blood.

Apple Jewell wretched in the ensuing silence.

"Ahem..."  Flam patted her shoulder and escorted her away.  "Come, sister dear.  We must get you back to the tower."

"But... b-but all he wanted to do..."  Apple Jewell cooed as she was led off.  "...was be a hero..."

Dreaded silence fell over the plaza.  The Cider Princess was led off, as were the three accomplices to the Red Rook.

Overlooking the scene, perched on a shadowed ledge, Epcot pressed herself to the side of a skyscraper.  The construct bit her lip, smoothing the folds of her dress back.  Taking a deep breath, she turned about, peering deep into the dark canyon alone.  Her purple eyes narrowed on one spot apart from the rest.  Then, inhaling long and hard, she dove off the ledge.

The mare morphed into a sphere halfway through her plunge, then zipped off for the darkest reach of the ravine.