Two hours.
That’s how long it took to destroy an entire city. Two hours.
The cunning underground passageways traversing the entire city of Manehattan allowed Equestrian Resistance fighters to move quickly from one position to another without having to move out in the open. The magically camouflaged rooftops offered perfect coverage for rebel sharpshooters to keep their soldiers covered as they held the line in the streets. The advancement of Shining Armor’s ground troops pushed straight into the heart of the Decepticon and Alliance army. In the first hour of the battle, things tended to seem bright for the resistance.
In the second hour…everything changed.
One hour was all it took for everything to go south.
Shining Armor and his resistance army fought bravely and valiantly, but they were slowly being overrun as more and more Decepticons rained from the skies, each one stronger than the last. Their troops dwindled with each passing minute as endless waves of Alliance soldiers pushed against them. Still, Shining Armor kept true to his promise with each slash of his sword, with each blast of his horn.
Nothing was getting passed him.
And nothing did.
However, the Decepticons knew well of the main battle taking place downtown, and decided to avoid it and take out the Equestrian Resistance head-on. From the Nemesis hovering directly over downtown, numerous Decepticon soldiers fell from its shadow directly in front of the resistance lines, charging or firing away right at their enemies.
The Decepticons lucky enough to survive the first wave of rifle fire from the resistance lines did not make it far. The lucky ones were met with either a longsword to the chest or a spear to the throat from the former rulers of Equestria.
Princess Celestia and Princess Luna stood their ground and destroyed anything that tried to advance.
As for the resistance, things were not looking as well as it had to begin with. Earth ponies readied, aimed, and fired away round after round at each Decepticon symbol they spotted, at each dark pony they saw in the streets. The air became hazy with rifle smoke, yet they still fired on. It became a constant routine never to end. Ready, aim, fire. Ready, aim, fire.
Medics and suppliers rushed through the lines, offering medical equipment and ammunition to those in need. Unicorns offered magical shields to deflect the oncoming enemy fire as their Earth pony brethren fired away. Pegasi remained in the skies, dropping small grenades or even providing overwatch. Many Pegasi were lost from the enemy air dominance. Not much was gained from the skies.
The first four lines were the defensive lines, and strangely enough they were the most protected. The fifth line, the line that was meant for supplies and medical equipment, was the most vulnerable.
That’s where the enemy attacked the most.
And a young baby dragon could only watch as his friends got torn to pieces.
Cuddled in a dark corner, Spike flinched every time a bullet rang over his head or whenever a shell would hit the warehouse he remained inside of. His only guard, an Earth pony covered in rags and wearing a black bandana around his muzzle, fired from the open door with his rifle. Spike could see the flashes of green in the stallion’s eyes, the jerking of the rifle pushing his body back a few inches.
“Dammit!” the pony screamed, ducking behind the closed door as blue streaks of light tore through the rusting metal. Spike covered his head as the bullets continued to fly. The gunfire ended, the silence burning between the two.
The pony peeked around the opening. Spike could see his eyes narrow.
“Alliance forces are moving in,” the stallion breathed, quickly reloading his rifle. He turned to Spike. Spike found himself locked in his guard’s eyes. His terrified eyes held certain strength to them, a strength that gave Spike the exact amount of protection he needed.
“Alright, little buddy, here’s what’s gonna happen,” the guard began, kneeling down to Spike’s level. “We’re gonna move out there, you stay behind me the entire time and you do not lose my tail! I’m gonna get you to the other side of the street where the other squads are…and hopefully we can find a better place to hide instead of this warehouse.”
Spike nodded absentmindedly, too far terrified to make clear sense of what was happening.
The stallion smiled behind his bandana, rubbing Spike’s scales with his free left hoof.
“Hey, you got nothin’ to be afraid of, little guy. Princess Celestia gave me one order, and that was to make sure that nothin’ bad happened to you. I’m gonna tell you straight up that I’m gonna fulfill that duty until my last breath.”
The young dragon began to smile at the stallion’s kind words. His guard smiled again, standing back up and moving towards the open door. He pressed his hoof against the rusty surface and slowly began to open it.
“Alright, little buddy, let’s get movin’.”
The resistance fighter pushed against the door, looked outside into the sunlight, and died.
Spike started to push himself up prior to his guard’s commands, but he quickly fell onto his back when more blue streaks of light tore through the wall to his left. The baby dragon looked up, horrified to see the bullets rip through his guard’s shoulder, throat, and forehead.
There were no screams that followed. Despite the sound of a body hitting the floor, there was nothing else strong enough to make a presence known in the empty warehouse. Nothing but Spike’s uncontrolled, heavy breathing.
The fresh, crimson liquid began to surround the body of his fallen guard, and Spike could only watch in silent horror from his cradled position. Fresh tears fell from his eyes, and yet Spike sat silently and stared at the growing pool of red.
The sounds of the outside conflict slowly began to return to the baby dragon, followed by a memorable voice shouting in clear anger.
“Geez! Hey Jazz, mind coverin’ my back once in a while?! I’m gettin’ shot up over here!”
Spike’s ears were drawn to the voice like moths to a light. However, unlike a moth, Spike was patient and slowly peeked through the small opening between the wall and the door. Spike could see only a small portion of the battle raging behind the wall, yet he could still feel the intensity of bullets firing, missiles launching, spells casting, and metal clashing against metal.
That last part confused him. He moved over slightly to the left and saw it.
“Ironhide…”
The towering Autobot fell to one knee, clutching his abdomen with his left palm.
Both he and Jazz were forced back to defend the fifth line where the majority of the Decepticon forces were landing. The fifth line was only defended by unicorns and Princess Cadance before their arrival, and they were lucky to have gotten there fast enough.
Ironhide lifted up his scarred head. Debris marked the landscape of the battle zone, and it just so happened to provide the perfect cover for oncoming Decepticon fighters. The red Autobot could see even more Decepticons fall from the smoky skies, joining their comrades with assault rifles at the ready. The fresh wave of Decepticons took their positions behind pieces of debris and provided cover fire for their advancing soldiers.
Ironhide growled and stood back up.
He lifted his X18 Scrapmaker, the heavy chain gun revving up.
“You guys wanna a piece of me?! You wanna kill me?! Come on then! Kill me!”
The Decepticons moved in to kill him.
Ironhide screamed as his gun finally erupted.
Bullets flew back and forth, many connecting to the Autobot protecting the fifth line on his own. With each Decepticon that moved in ten feet closer to the supply lines, five would be mowed down by Ironhide’s Scrapmaker. The Autobot somehow managed to scream his battle cry even louder than the gun he was firing.
Dead bodies littered the streets, and they just continually kept growing. Limbs flew to and fro, Energon painted the buildings and streets of Manehattan with every bullet Ironhide fired away. Yet despite his great efforts, the Autobot was overrun, and Ironhide slowly began to fall back closer to the supply lines.
He reached down and picked up a heavy slab of concrete that had joined the numerous piles of debris. Using it as a shield against the onslaught of enemy gunfire, Ironhide chuckled heavily to himself, his chain gun cooling down.
“Is that all you got, Decepti-chumps? I can-” a single missile flew below and impacted Ironhide’s knee. The Autobot fell, his makeshift shield crumbling in his left hand.
He spit out a glob of Energon into the street.
“I can do this all day.”
More bullets hit his tough exterior, yet the Autobot didn’t fall down completely. Ironhide watched as the fresh wave of Decepticon soldiers moved in on him, poised for the kill. A satisfying sound was heard from his right forearm. A click.
Ironhide jabbed his Scrapmaker forward and fired. The rushing Decepticons fell to the gravel, their heads and limbs rolling across their tattered bodies.
They came from all sides, and still Ironhide fought on, destined to defend the fifth line with his very own spark. He turned to the right, mowing down the oncoming Decepticon troops. With a heavy shard of the shield still remaining his left palm, Ironhide turned to his left and quickly chucked it at the nearest enemy rushing towards him, his blaster firing away.
The shard indented right between the optics of the Decepticon, and he fell without another sound.
“Come on! Is that all you got?” Ironhide shouted, backing away as more soldiers fell in front of him. “I’ll take you all on! You’re nothin’ to me! You’re all nothin’ to-!”
A new sound came from behind. Ironhide spun around to be met with a sight that made his Energon freeze.
Standing above a mountain of debris, Alliance Spider Tanks and many more Alliance troopers aimed their weapons at the Autobot. Ironhide couldn’t react to the first shell hitting him square in the chest, but he did react to what followed.
Ironhide flew back from the blast of the Spider Tank. He landed amongst a heavy pile of debris, the continued onslaught of Alliance firepower joining him. Ironhide pushed the gravel and cement off of his chest. From his laying position, Ironhide could spot about three tanks and four groups of five Alliance ponies swarming him. Their glowing blue bullets tore through his armor, sending the Autobot’s Energon across the street littered with limbs and fallen warriors.
Ironhide lifted up his Scrapmaker.
He fired away again and again and again.
The Autobot screamed.
“Here I am! You can’t kill me! You can’t do anything!”
Amongst the return of the Autobot’s fire, several ponies lay injured or bleeding to death. Others took refugee behind the debris, continuing their advance on the injured Autobot. A single Spider Tank stepped forward, its muzzle glowing bright blue.
It fired a single shell; a single shell that hit Ironhide’s Scrapmaker and blew it to shreds.
“No!”
Ironhide fell onto his back. The enemies moved in, firing away on the fallen Autobot.
“I’m comin’, Ironhide!”
In the midst of the firefight, nopony was quick enough to notice the pure white Autobot leap out of the smoke. Far too preoccupied with the injured Autobot, the first two groups continued their fire while their fellow squadrons suffered the price.
Jazz jumped completely over one of the tanks, firing five shots from his Scatter Blaster shotgun downwards onto the unsuspecting enemy. The Spider Tank erupted into a fury of flame and metal debris. In its destruction, Jazz gripped onto the barrel of the destroyed tank, and he launched its remains straight towards the other multi-legged terrain-walker.
The second tank exploded. The remaining Alliance squads all spun around and opened fire on the attacking Autobot. Jazz took them all out in one clip.
The last tank, at one point nearly finishing off the fallen Autobot, spun its barrel 180 degrees around and fired a shell on the white attacker. Jazz slid on the gravel to dodge the shot, and with his gathered momentum he activated a short blade and sliced off one of the back legs of the tank.
Jazz popped up on the other side, grabbing the barrel of the tank behind and yanking it upwards. The entire top of the Spider Tank ripped off, wires and metal shrapnel falling from the covering. Jazz stomped his foot on the tank’s remains. He brought the barrel of the tank above his head, fully intending on bringing it down on the Alliance equines still inside.
Jazz yelped in pain once a large insect pounced on him from behind.
Spike watched the battle unfold with awestruck vision. He didn’t take action once he saw Ironhide defending the fifth line, he didn’t stand up once Jazz came to his brother’s rescue and slaughtered the Alliance, but what followed next pushed Spike’s emotions to the limit.
Jazz and Ironhide were ambushed by three Insecticons.
The baby dragon spun his head around, his eyes landing on the bloody rifle still gripped in the hooves of the fallen rebel. Reluctantly, Spike reached forward and plucked the rifle from the ground. Once he brought the weapon to his chest, he began to make some adjustments. It was long, a bit awkward for his small body. He felt up the long weapon, his claw landing on the trigger.
It would work for now.
Slowly, the dragon stood up, wobbling a bit from the weapon’s added weight. He pushed himself out into the open.
“Autobots! Fresh Energon! Need food!”
“Sharpshot, let’s tear this one to shreds! Shreds! Shreds!
“I got the red one then! More for me!”
Stumbling forward, Spike landed face first into the nearest pile of debris. Groaning, Spike crawled forward until his head popped up from the top. He could see the whole thing unfold right in front of him.
The streets were covered knee-high with dead bodies, torn limbs, and bullet shells. Twenty or so yards away, Spike could see the Insecticons Sharpshot and Kickback gang up on Jazz, kicking him and holding him down. Sharpshot’s right fist merged into a long blade.
Hardshell took on Ironhide on his own, lifting the injured Autobot up by his throat.
“I’ll take great pleasure in ripping out your spark before I feed on your corpse!” Hardshell growled, his sharp claws reaching for Ironhide’s chest.
Spike grinded his teeth together in rage. Quickly, he brought up the bloody rifle and positioned it to rest against his right shoulder. After constant hours of watching rebel ponies ready themselves with the weapon Spike was now destined to hold, the baby dragon went through the motions as quick as he could.
He closed his left eye.
Hardshell dug his claws into Ironhide’s chest.
The crosshairs were wobbly at first…
Ironhide screamed in pain.
Then they landed perfectly on Hardshell’s ugly face.
Spike pulled the trigger.
A single, green stream of light pierced the war-torn battlefield, joining the thousand other gunshots going off throughout the city. Spike fell back from the force of the rifle, and he was not able to witness his first shot connect to the Decepticon’s forehead.
Hardshell’s head jerked backwards, his right fist quickly reaching up to cover the bullet wound.
Ironhide brought up his heavy knee, knocking Hardshell right in the chest and ultimately releasing him. Once freed, Ironhide connected his fists several times to the Insecticon’s head, chest, abdomen, basically anywhere he could get a free punch.
Hardshell fumbled. He drove his left forearm in a swiping motion right for Ironhide’s head, yet the Autobot ducked perfectly at the right time and had the Insecticon immobilized. He appeared behind the startled Hardshell, roaring a single battle cry and driving his fist straight through the Insecticon’s neck.
The force of the blow literally tore apart Hardshell’s throat, and with whatever vision the Insecticon had left, he could barely look down and witness the Autobot’s fist jutting out from underneath his chin. Liquid Energon, the Insecticon’s own blood, spilled from the faceplate he wore.
“Gotcha now,” Ironhide growled, still holding onto the withering Insecticon.
Hardshell coughed, sending Energon all across the road in front of him. Ironhide could feel his head move side to side.
“No…I got you.”
Ironhide watched as the Insecticon lifted up his left hand and pulled the pin right off a grenade.
Quick to act, Ironhide ripped his fist out of the Insecticon’s throat. The fallen Hardshell lost his grip on the glowing red grenade, and with the fall of his remains the grenade fell with him. Ironhide wouldn’t allow that, and he reached forward and plucked the live grenade right out of the air.
“Finish him off, Sharpshot! I can hold him forever! Ever! Ever!”
Still holding the live grenade seconds away from exploding, Ironhide turned towards the sickening sound of Insecticon chatter. He could see two more of them holding down his Autobot brother, the taller one wielding a dark purple blade right over Jazz’s spark.
He chucked the grenade right at them.
The cooked grenade bounced once from Ironhide’s toss, and then it landed right by the foot of the Insecticon holding down Jazz. It blew up.
Kickback howled in pain.
Jumping backwards, the wounded Insecticon clutched his right leg, or whatever remained of it. The grenade’s blast had incinerated the poor Insecticons right leg from his foot to his knee, leaving nothing but a wobbling, crying Kickback struggling to stand straight.
Free at last, Jazz pointed his Scatter Blaster straight at Kickback’s visor. He fired once.
The shotgun’s firepower, especially at close range, had done an incredible amount of damage. The pellets impacted Kickback’s head with such force that his entire forehead was eradicated from existence. The back of his head blew apart, sending Energon and whatever remained to fly outwards from the blast. Kickback’s body hit the ground faster than Sharpshot could scream.
Sharpshot quickly noticed the unfair advantage.
“Scrap this!” the Insecticon leader screeched, transforming back into his insect mode and attempting to fly off. Jazz rolled onto his abdomen, and from the ground he aimed his Scatter Blaster right for the flying insect.
“No you don’t,” he muttered, firing only once. Instead of pellets, Jazz watched as a single line of glowing blue energy sailed through the air, attaching itself to Sharpshot’s backside. The Autobot smirked as he was pulled forward instantly.
His grappling hook worked very effectively. Still attached to the Insecticon and approaching closer, Jazz made a quick adjustment and broke off at the last second. His Scatter Blaster was at the ready, he was flying high above of the Insecticon desperately trying to flee, and he had three shots left.
The Autobot used one of them.
Sharpshot’s right wing blew apart. Hissing in pain, the Insecticon was completely unprepared for the Autobot landing right on top of him. The added weight alongside the loss of his wing brought the Insecticon back to the earth below. Jazz held onto the fumbling Sharpshot as they fell past the building and much farther past the front resistance lines.
Sharpshot quickly transformed back into his robot mode before he hit the ground. In the midst of the crash, Sharpshot and Jazz tumbled against the battleground, their bodies connecting to one another, each one struggling to gain the advantage.
In the end, the stronger won.
Jazz didn’t lose.
The pure white Autobot, covered with his and his enemy’s Energon, jabbed his shotgun right underneath Sharpshot’s jaw, firing his second shot.
Sharpshot howled his last howl as his head was blown clean off his body, the severed extremity flying off to bounce across the street. Not wanting to take any chances, Jazz landed on his feet and used his last bullet on the Insecticon’s chest. The force of the shotgun pellets blasted Sharpshot’s body apart, sending his remains tumbling a few yards away.
Jazz skidded to halt.
He stood amongst Sharpshot’s corpse, the sounds of his own breathing being the only noise he could hear.
“Alright…” Jazz breathed in, his blue visor staring at Sharpshot’s severed head lying a few feet away. He muttered, “That’s three down…”
The white Autobot spun around, his visor landing on the Decepticon flagship hovering directly over the resistance defensive lines. The resistance fighters acted just as Jazz predicated: they fired every bit of ammunition they had left straight up towards the Nemesis. Their firepower did absolutely nothing.
The underbelly of the Nemesis opened up.
Jazz reloaded his shotgun.
“…a hell of a lot more to go.”
The Nemesis’ underbelly glowed bright red.