Carol City, Equestria
Ditzy sat at the kitchen table, tapping a forehoof against it and looking out the window. She was greeted by an early morning vista of palmtrees lining the beach, and a stray light of neon from the signs below reflected on the glass. The room itself was illuminated by the lava lamp sat on the same table, casting an orange glow on an envelope, a big piece of paper and a small box. Next to them was a bowl of cereal and a glass of milk, as well as a small pile of bits, enough to buy lunch in the school cafeteria.
A digital clock on top of a drawer blinked quietly nearby. After glancing at it, the mare got up and quietly walked across the chamber. She stepped carefully, avoiding the few bright plastic and wooden toys still scattered around, and kept watch of the locked door with a crayon painting on it.
Having made her way into her messy bedroom, Ditzy opened a greyish-brown wardrobe. The mare's hoof brushed a few outfits to the side and searched through the rest of the contents. Moments later, she emerged from the room with a cleaned and pressed blue postal uniform tucked in her mouth and a bulky grey mask on her back.
She threw the suit onto the couch behind the table that the lava lamp stood on, and disappeared again into the same room. She squinted, wincing slightly as her bad eye aligned itself with the other. Once it did, the mare withdrew a plastic bag from a nearby drawer and delivered it to the same table. Inside the bag were eight short metal objects, the orange light dancing along their edges.
After suiting herself up, Ditzy carefully placed the blades into small slots between her primary feathers, adding four per wing. As quietly as she could, the mare flapped her wings a few times and made a few striking motions with them in mid-air. Once the metal pieces could no longer be heard clanging on one another, the pony stopped and returned to the table, adjusting her uniform along the way.
The envelope’s recipient was marked as: “Detrot Distributions Filial Office, 25 Belle Street - EASTERN CONNECTION”. The text lacked a “FROM”. Over the stamp slot was an unevenly placed oversized stamp with the image of a pony carrying a red briefcase Above the address listings was another stamp in red ink, showing a circle containing a crescent, a star, and a heart.
The glistening, softly textured paper read:
This note of happiness has been brought to you as part of the Equestria Delivery Free Holiday Pack Shipping promotion. Stay in touch with your friends and make sure to send them nothing but love. And don’t forget: with our service, Equestria is a wholesome unity of wonderful individuals!
Your friend writes:
WE HAVE WARNED YOU TWICE
YOU ENTER OUR TERRITORY - YOU ABIDE BY OUR RULES
OUR RULES SAY YOU YONI FUCKS GET NOTHING
YOU THINK YOU'RE COOL
THIS ISN'T YOUR BACKWARDS LITTLE ISLAND
YOU’VE GOT GUESTS COMING
THEY WILL SLAUGHTER YOU LIKE PIGS WHILE YOU SLEEP IN THOSE SIDE ROOMS
FUCK ALL IF YOU HAVE GUNS
THIS CITY ISN'T YOURS
GO CONNECT SOME DOTS INSTEAD
ALL THE RED RAD SHIT YOU WORRY ABOUT SO MUCH
IS GONNA GO TO THE DUMPSTER DOWN THE ALLEY.
The mare read through it once more, her eyes occasionally alternating between the text and the envelope. Eventually, she ripped open the cover of the box and carefully turned it upside down. Several bundles of white and yellow bills fell out of it, along with a small piece of paper.
⅓ NOW, ⅔ AFTER.
55 SUGAR TRAIL STREET.
ASK RASMUS.
She read it one more time and lowered her head with a sigh. The bills went to a nearby drawer, from which she retrieved a spark lighter. Ditzy balled up the rest of the papers and carried them to the window. The lighter clicked, the papers caught fire, and she quickly tossed them out just as they began to disintegrate.
Ditzy watched the morning breeze carry the ashes out toward the sea. Once it was all gone, she stretched her limbs and left the apartment.
The courtyard was surrounded by tall stacks of shipping containers, all different shades of grey in the early morning haze. At one end of the courtyard was the entrance to a large warehouse, separated by a tall fence with barbed wire. Demolition warning signs hung all over the fence, and the appropriate machinery and equipment were all deployed and ready to go, with no crew in sight. Its large, heavily rusted gates opened, and a pair of steam engines left the building, escorted out by several armed guards. They closed the gate behind the trucks and lazily walked back to their patrol routes, exchanging idly in a foreign language.
Ditzy peeked inside through one of the windows lining the sides of the warehouse. Through the thin layer of dirt coating its surface, a vast, mostly empty space, was visible inside. The part near the gate had several aisles lined with abandoned shelves. Armed guards patrolled between them, each wearing similarly fashioned silver-grey suits. They were slightly shorter than regular ponies, with thicker coats and more distance between their eyes.
Their manes and facial hair sported varying styles and lengths, a few wearing eyeglasses despite being indoors. Now and again, exact copies were paired up with each other.
The part of the main floor further in had several large metal tanks, with a series of pipes running between them, as well as armed guards. The last section of the floor, marked as an office space, was sectioned off by a wall. Catwalks with stairs ran along the surface of the wall, giving access to each level, and one long and wide walkway reached out from the second floor, all the way to the front of the warehouse.
Ditzy's good eye traced the patrol routes of the guards. Eventually, she closed her eyes and flapped her wings, floating around to the back of the warehouse. Reaching into her saddlebag, the mare withdrew her mask, put it on, and aimed herself at the nearest window to enter the building from the back.
An armed guard with a long contraption fastened along all of his foreleg gave a long yawn, coming to a halt next to an old desk, most of the wood crumbled to dust. He checked the rifle and lifted a free forehoof to rub his eyes and scratch at the stubble on his chin. His nose wrinkled after he took a deep breath to let out a sigh.
“Great…” he muttered to himself, voice ringing with light distortion. “Rust, chems, and now fungus too? The air in here is gonna kill me.”
He spun in place after glass shattered loudly right next to him, and he barely had a moment to gasp before a hoof slammed against the side of his head, accompanied by a hail of glass shards shooting into his skin. He fell to the ground, limbs squirming as he tried to get his bearings. Moments later, the hoof came down again, aiming for his throat. A wet crunch sounded out, and the thug went limp. His body warped into its natural chitinous form, while the firearm harness slipped off the thinning leg and onto the floor.
The mare looked down at decomposing mess, lingering at the discarded weapon. The elongated crystalline gun was fully loaded and several dark, matte shells were placed into slots on its side. After a short pause, she reached down and picked up a piece of rebar lying next to the body. Checking her surroundings one last time, she hastily moved down the corridor.
A second guard stood just around the corner, busying himself with lighting a smokestick. Moving without pause, she appeared behind him and swung the rebar at his head. Blood and bits of brain and skull splattered onto the wall to his left, and the guard dropped as well, his assailant already well past him by the time he hit the floor.
She passed a few empty offices before pausing at one of the doorways, where she found a chamber filled with beds, each one occupied by a sleeping thug. Their weapons leaned against their beds, and most never bothered to take their suits off.
The mare stared at them for a while before tiptoeing into the room. Her wings spread quietly, placing themselves at the necks of the nearest two guards. Moments later, she rapidly pulled them in, the blades inside making a quiet ripping noise as they sliced their’ throats open. There was no struggle, and she moved onto the next two to their faint gurgling.
A minute later, the pegasus emerged from the room, blood dripping from her wings, along with weak green vapor. She shook some of the blood off and headed for the end of the hallway. Behind her, the chirping of an alarm clock rang out in the sleeping quarters, accompanied by muffled coughing and groaning.
She paused when the chirping spread to the floors above and below her as well. Voices and the sound of hoofsteps seeped through the walls her. A pale orange pony with a long, greasy mane groggily emerged from an office further ahead. He paused and put a pair of sunglasses over his blank, blurry eyes. Another pony came out after him, looking exactly the same, sliding out a large knife out of a harness on his foreleg.
The armed guard looked up, just in time to see a blue and grey figure swoop down on top of him. His sunglasses cracked loudly as the attacker’s hind leg collided with his forehead. He cried out in pain and hit the floor, while the pony next to him was struck by a wing, and he fell to the floor, gasping for breath through a punctured throat. The blood steamed and sizzled as it left his body, going from red to swampy green. Moments later, the loud blare of an old fire alarm went off in the distance, soon accompanied by rapid hoofsteps from the levels above and below.
Those still in the chamber were still coming to, busy stumbling to their hooves under the loud alarm. Only one had a weapon at the ready when the masked figure entered with its wings outstretched. The single shot fired blasted a chunk of concrete out of the doorway.
Two unicorn stallions with thick auburn fringes at the bases of their sharp, long horns ascended using the catwalks, followed by a quadrupedal figure in a dark trench coat with a walking cane. Approaching the doorway, one of them dropped his smokestick, cursing at the blood-covered pigeon-headed mare staring at them atop a pile of five sliced up corpses. The unicorns shouted in alarm, immediately lighting their horns. Behind them, the figure - a griffon - hit his cane against the floor, which cast an obscuring black shroud all around him. It faded moments later, leaving no trace of the avian.
Their horns grew brighter, drawing stilettos from the unicorns' pockets, sending them in a circular spinning motion as the thugs went into a stance. Their channeling was interrupted, as the pegasus leaped towards them before the knives formed a ring of steel - she smashed into one and knocked the other over with a wing. Before he could fight back, the first unicorn was left slack-jawed as the pigeon's head crashed into his. The other was nearly stabbed by her wing, but a barrier of noxious vapor rose around the pony, forcing her back.
The remaining unicorn bit down on the cigarette and grunted. The spinning stiletto left his orbit, launching itself at the mare. The knife stopped halfway, going into his fallen partner’s chest instead. The long-horned stallion chewed his smokestick in half, backpedaling into the railing.
The mare dropped her improvised shield - now dark, jagged and flickery - and lunged ahead. The cigarette's other end barely hit the floor before the other unicorn’s eyes bulged out, his opponent’s knife stabbing him upside the chin. He fell, giving a low gurgle as blood streamed down his chin, turning into steaming green synapse halfway into his suit, right down the dragon pattern woven into it. The mare dropped right after him, evading a hail of bullets from the hallway as more gangsters arrived from the rest of the warehouse. She quickly dashed for the door that led to the walkway, bullets pinging off the walls and the metal frame.
Outside, the rest of the gangsters shouted and ran about, trying to spot her among the shadows obscuring the walkway. One of them picked up the noise of her hoofsteps and opened fire, the rest following suit. Those on the catwalks and the second floor were rushing to corner her and get a clear line of fire.
In response, the mare spread her wings and leaped off the side of the catwalk, rapidly flying along the framework of the ceiling. She zigzagged between the thin girders, dodging the constant fire sent her way. Below, a towering figure joining the crowd, and the sharp noise of the various rifles was drowned out by loud banging.
As she zoomed overhead, a stray shot from the bigger guns slammed into a hatch placed at the center of the ceiling. The thick metal groaned and tore itself off its hinges, plummeting toward those below. The mobsters dove for cover, giving the mare just enough of a window to rush for the new opening and fly outside.
She touched down on top of the roof, limbs trembling slightly. After a couple of ragged breaths, the mare started for the front of the warehouse, intent on getting there before the agitated voices below did. She heard cursing and orders in several languages, as well as rapid hoofsteps heading in the same direction.
The pegasus only managed a few paces before a gust of wind picked up. She looked up and noticed the trenchcoat griffon from before, floating above the roof. In the growing light outside, his features were clearer, revealing the distinctive white feathers, slightly webbed claws, and the bulky beak of an albatross on his front half. He squinted sharply, long plumage falling over the right side of his face. The reverse side was plastic-looking and blank, lacking any plumage or skin cover.
He landed on the roof, hitting it sharply with his walking cane, and stood tall before her on his hind legs. The two bird heads stared at one another for a few seconds, neither of them moving. The pigeon started off with a rapid swipe of her wing, which sent a blade at the chest of her opponent. The albatross hit the roof with his cane again, and his body turned into black fog at the exact moment the knife would have hit. The fog swirled and coalesced into his body once more, and he approached her slowly, limping with each step.
The mare spent two more knives, trying different angles each time, to no avail. Eventually, with the lack of gunfire to worry about, she charged right at the griffon. He opened his beak and looked down as she lunged. In the time it took her to reach him, he signaled with his talons through the hole in the roof and hit it with his cane again, disappearing right before she landed.
The mare narrowly avoided the hail of bullets that awaited her, one of them grazing the mask and leaving a black mark on the side of the pigeon’s beak. The albatross popped back where she lunged from, his head tilted, and his hand gripping the cane tightly. There was a slight trembling in his limbs.
He signaled with his cane, letting the mobsters below know where to shoot and forcing her to dodge. They changed places once again, and the tension grew even more in the griffon’s limbs. The mare took deep breaths, pausing a bit before her next attack. After circling around a few times, her opponent’s eyes following her every move, she dove in a third time.
The albatross grinned and tapped the roof again, disappearing moments later. He popped back just in time to watch that part of the roof get torn up by gunfire, and his blood ran cold when he found no sign of the mare near it.
His shout never managed to leave his throat as a pair of hooves locked onto it tightly. He stumbled around, arms pinned to his sides by the mare’s hind legs as they wrapped around his abdomen.
The mobsters in the warehouse stared up in confusion, listening to the muffled noises of the struggle. Moments later, one of them shouted as they spotted a large figure near the hole. It lurched toward the opening and fell in, just in time to meet the bullets fired at it by the mobsters. The body dropped limply and landed with a wet crack, a small cloud of smoldering feathers raining down after it. The armed thugs approached the corpse slowly, and one of them carefully turned it over. The blank side of the albatross' face was turning to steaming greenish muck.
A loud bang from the front gate made them turn around. The pair closest to it gave a furious roar and charged at the source of the noise, their comrades shouting for them to stop. The first one barely rounded the corner before a slash was heard, and the blood that sprayed all over him made the second one freeze. He yelled to the others and tried to turn around, but a pair of hooves grabbed his tail and yanked him back. The other mobsters winced as something banged against the metal wall from outside repeatedly.
They quickly set up in a rough semicircle before the gate, guns trained on the opening. For a few seconds, nothing happened, after which a grey and blue blur darted from one side of the opening to the other. They opened fire immediately, the smaller arms drowned out by a loud banging, which belonged to the weapons of a large figure at the center of their formation.
In the few heartbeats she had before disappearing behind cover again, the mare turned to look at the figure towering over the equines. He stood on his hind legs, cloven hooves at the end of them. A black suit adorned his large, muscular frame. He sported long, silver-gray hair and beard, both of them braided. Wide sunglasses obscured his eyes, and a thick cigar smoldered between his teeth. He grinned and held up two massive handguns, arms staying perfectly steady as they fired.
The mare rolled to a halt behind the other side of the gateway. The minotaur calmly reloaded, grunted at the others, and slowly approached her cover. His horns leveled at her, and he gave a series of distorted snorts as he closed the distance. He held out his guns and waited for a moment before rapidly popping around the corner, only to find the area empty. The thug blinked in confusion, and his ears flicked when a breeze blew in from above.
He roared and rushed back inside, already pointing his guns above his head before his eyes found the masked mare floating above. She flapped her wings and rushed further into the warehouse, zigzagging along the frame of the walkway. After a few moments of fumbling, the gangsters opened fire, tracing the thug’s own bullets as they ripped into the metal framework.
The mare did not stop for one moment, diving directly for the doorway that led back to the offices. Behind her, the large caliber bullets ripped apart the supports of the walkway. The gangsters were hot on her heels, and in the rush, none of them noticed the groaning of the metal framework above their heads. The thug roared at the rest as she made her way through.
The pegasus folded up her wings and landed just beyond the doorway. Skidding to a halt, she quickly turned around, just in time to see a black cloud form out of thin air. It coalesced into another albatross griffon with a blank patch on the face, identical to the one previously killed.
The griffon looked down at her and raised his cane, sharp buzzing and flickers emitting along the shaft, only to pause when the groaning outside turned into a loud whine. He blinked and glanced behind his back, beak dropping open as one of the support beams gave out. He turned back to the mare and blinked again when he found her still on the ground, covering her head with her hooves.
A sharp snap rang out, and the entire walkway ripped itself out of its supports. It crashed onto the tanks below, all but one of them making a hollow noise, while the one near the offices gave a low hiss. The wreckage then dragged one of the catwalks with it as well, and its impact widened the hole in the tank, allowing the pressure inside to rip it apart.
Just before the magical veil could form up around him, the griffon disappeared in a wall of flames, thick smoke and dust following right after. The ground shook violently, and a loud explosion sounded out, immediately muffled by ringing in the mare's ears.
She waited for over a minute before climbing back to her hooves and tiptoeing up to the doorway. The charred husk of a changeling lay in front of it, its rear half torn apart.
The masked mare floated out into the main chamber, taking short, conservative breaths. Wreckage rained from the ceiling, the structure itself groaning now under its own weight. Most of the tanks were ripped apart or toppled over. Dead and dismembered bodies littered the floor, those not killed in the explosion now flattened under the walkway. Heavy vapor and steam rose off the blood splattered everywhere, thickening the air.
A strained cough came from behind her. The mare wheeled around and noticed the minotaur attempting to wrestle a fallen girder off his chest. An entire catwalk kept his legs pinned, and several jagged metal pieces were embedded in his body and head. He groaned and leaned back, muttering one last curse before going limp. A pool of steaming blood grew around him steadily, and his body soon lit up in green flames, turning into a synaptic changeling.
The mare left the dead changeling, hastily exploring the wreck and the rest of the offices. From time to time, she would stop to take a look at a picture in her suit’s pocket. With every passing minute, the groaning of the damaged structure got louder, and more of the roof collapsed. Finally, one of the former restrooms on the third floor contained a cache that matched her objective. The mare inspected the contents of the packages within, picked up one of them, a red briefcase, and headed back to the main floor.
A changeling drone coughed and moaned in pain, its disguise flickering on and off as it dragged itself away from the carnage and toward the gateway, where he could see the orange glow of dawn. Its wounds left a trail of steaming blood behind it. It was just a few paces away from escape when its back was pressed down. The drone couldn't finish a word before a pair of hooves grabbed his head and twisted sharply.
The mare climbed off the corpse and stretched her limbs. Calmly emerging from the warehouse, she spread her wings and took off, heading for the apartments further inland. She touched down in a quiet little alley, opened a dumpster near the entrance and tossed the briefcase inside.
”Early this morning, demolition works have been completed on the defunct Detrot Distributions filial warehouse and office building, which had been a sore spot on the face of the city for too long. Suspected to have been a gang hideout for the months that it stood unsupervised, it was subjected to full vaporization by the demolition crew. As forepony Steel Frame commented on the materials used…
…
...many neighboring ponies issued complaints about the excessive noise created by the process. Several residents mistook the sounds of the demolition for a gang fight, which the crew had explained came from an unexpected reaction between the vaporizer reagents, salt water, and rust. The district officials issued an apology and promised not to perform vaporization demolition works at early hours again. That said, even despite the clarifications, certain members of the local committee proposed that…
…
In other news, rumors of an undocumented influx of Neighponese immigrants have been denied after multiple complaints to the board of citizenship. Chairpony Vellum stated that the ponies from the East fall under the terms of the Prejudice Rock Pact. He says that any suspicions of the infamous Eastern Connection criminal syndicate attempting to lay claim to Carol City's criminal underground are, however ridiculous in nature, to be investigated by the relevant authorities.”
The afternoon sun shone upon a brightly colored three-story building, its windows shaped like hearts, its walls covered with posters, announcing a recent holiday. The yard before it was occupied by a colorful crowd of colts and fillies. They chased each other around, some rising to their hind legs to shout for those on the upper floors, many occupied the benches, the whole crowd creating a cavalcade of squealing, chirping noises. Some headed right for the playground, while others went out the gates, either leaving by themselves, or accompanied by adults that would greet them.
Ditzy walked along the school fence, pushing away some of the awaiting adults and scanning over the schoolfoals with her good eye. She squinted and grimaced, her gaze wandering through the multicolor mass of ponies, the bright rays of the sun making it hard to see. She froze and her ears pressed back when noticed saw a group of colts surround a purplish-grey unicorn filly. Ditzy's breath became rare and sharp.
Another filly with similar colors walked up to her from the other side of the fence, the mare’s bad eye failing to see her. Ditzy let out a sigh of relief when one of the colts simply picked up a book from the ground and gave it to the cornered child, whose bag had a hole in it.
“Mom? Everything okay?” the approaching filly asked. She tilted her head to the side, while the grey mare kept staring at the other foals. Eventually, she sighed again and gave a soft smile. Turning her gaze to her filly, she nodded.
The filly giggled. “I’m right on time!” she said. “Biology ended early today. It was super weird! Someone from the police came and asked for the teacher, and then she said our class was cancelled.” She scratched at her head. “I dunno, I think she started crying, and she kept saying a strange name… Something with an -ax at the end.” She gave a small pout and looked up at her mother.
The pegasus did not answer for some time. Her eyes wandered back to the courtyard, which was steadily emptying. As the last of the parents walked off with their children, a couple of colts and fillies stayed behind. They wandered about aimlessly, calling out names to nopony in particular, not getting any response.
Eventually, she motioned for her daughter to come over. The filly ran around the fence and through the gate to charge in for a hug. The mare caught the filly with a wing and embraced her tightly, not letting go for quite some time.
“Are we going somewhere today?” the child asked. “You look like you’re thinking of something…”
The mare was looking at the courtyard again. It was empty now, save for one last occupant - a surly groundskeeper mare in a baggy grey outfit. They stared at one another for a while, then the pegasus mare averted her eyes, and the groundskeeper went back to sweeping up litter.
The mother looked back at her filly and nodded, pointing down the street with her hoof. The child’s eyes widened.
“Wait, that’s where…” She gasped and tugged on her mother’s legs. “Are you gonna… for real?!”
The mare nodded again, smiling widely, and led her daughter down the road, drawn by the sign above the door of an expensive toy shop.