//------------------------------// // Chapter 8 - Sandtraps // Story: The Foals of Harmony: The One Free Stallion // by Rainy Meadows //------------------------------// “Unhand me this instant! Release me, you dogs! You brutes!” She struggled and strained against the ponies who held her, but it was no use: they were just too strong. Every time she managed to get a limb free, another ghastly pony would seize it and hold it still. It wasn’t long before she was held without a single hoof touching the floor. She still struggled though. Her mane could wait – in any other circumstances, she may have considered her appearance a matter of life or death, but now that she was in a real matter of such, all she wanted to do was run and hide. “Get off me! Didn’t you hear me, I said get OFF! Don’t you know who I am? Let me GO!” She looked up at the sound of that strangely familiar voice. It was a tall white unicorn stallion – they were always unicorns – who was battling the horrible Overwatch like a trained warrior. He bucked and punched and kicked and threw one of them off the catwalk, where it hit the concrete in front of her and sprayed blood everywhere. It was all she could do not to vomit on the floor. She watched until the stallion was finally restrained, every one of his hooves suspended in the air, and they threw him roughly into the tall, pillar-like machine. His scream was deafening and blood curdling. As she watched, a horrible creature walked out of the other side. It was barely even recognisable as a pony anymore, let alone a living creature. She felt her blood ran cold in her veins. That... that was going to happen to her? But-but she was only just starting to live her life. She had spent so many years believing that appearance – the strict following of fashion and painstaking care in one’s make-up and hair styling – was the most important thing a pony could worry about. And then she had met him. The gentle golden stallion, the most kind and handsome pony she had ever met (when he wasn’t talking about his town, of course) and the only one who had cared for her in the way she had dreamed since she was a little filly. He didn’t even know she was missing. Nopony did. She would disappear and nopony would notice. And after all the awful things she had done in her life, would anypony even care that she was gone? Then they started to carry her towards the machine. She twisted her body this way and that, trying to pull her legs out of her captor’s grasp, and screamed blue murder (even though she was white, not blue) but it was useless. “Hey.” It wasn’t a shout. It wasn’t even particularly loud. The voice was barely more than a whisper, but it was enough for the thugs restraining her to freeze, and all of them turned around slowly. They were faced by the angriest pegasus she had ever seen. His overall appearance was more rugged than infuriated; 5 o’clock shadow, ragged mane, bandages covering most of one side of his face and the tattered remains of a blue and yellow uniform. The rage was concentrated into his left eye. It almost glowed with undiluted fury, and it had been so long since she’d seen such a soul-piercing shade of green. And the feathers of his right wing were curled around a minigun. “Now listen guys,” he said to her captors, “we can do this the easy way... or the Wonderbolt way.” The thugs dropped Rarity to the floor and took hold of their own firearms, but rather than fear, Soarin’s expression became one of satisfaction which could almost pass for pleasure. “I guess it’s gonna be the Wonderbolt way.” Hell hath no darker smile than the one that split his face at that moment.   “Hex!” I remember this guy. It was the same stallion who had let me through into the second half of the underground and told me that the guy the Combine were hunting (read: me) was boned. Apparently he’s at Lighthouse Point now. Smeg knows why. “If Ah had known who you were,” he said as I pulled to a stop, “Ah swear I would have given ya all the help ya needed. Ah’ve heard so much about ya!” “Uh,” I said, “well, there isn’t much to tell, really.” “Anyway, the Combine’s on the hunt for ya,” he said, “and they know you’ve got the buggy so yer gonna have to go on hoof from here.” “Where should I put it?” “Garage, over there. And make it quick, we’re expectin’ dropships any second!” So I parked the buggy in a nearby garage and quickly jumped outside again. Dropships? That couldn’t be good. “You know,” I told the other guy once I was outside again, “this is going to be a lot easier if I know your name.” “It’s Braeburn.” An apple breed. How did I guess? The country accent was a good clue, along with the apple cutie mark... whatever. I’m too tired to be worrying about this right now. Besides, there’re dropships on the way. I don’t have time to be making snarky comments. What am I saying? I’ve always got time to make snarky comments! Okay, right. It looks like I’m going to have to use my guns for this one. Something I’ve noticed about the Overwatch is that the ones with blue eyes usually have machine guns, and the ones with orange eyes always have shotguns, so I’m not about to run out of ammunition. But what’s not very comforting is that I’ve seen loads of the guys, but I haven’t seen a single unicorn... I don’t know what happens to them, and the truth is I don’t want to know. Here they come! Everypony else is hiding, and I don’t want to sound arrogant but it kinda seems like a rather dumb thing to do. There’s going to be more than one, and they’re bound to have at least fifteen or twenty troops on board, so why wait for them to pile up? Take ‘em out as soon as you can and get it over with. Like this. Welcome to Hex’s Combine Resistance for Kiddies Who Want to Live to be Eighteen! Today, boys and girls, we’re going to learn how to defend a small town from a group of complete smegheads who want to wipe out a bunch of innocent civilians for no reason whatsoever! Now kids, you may need to get your mummy’s and daddy’s permission for some of the things we’re going to be using today, but don’t worry! Once we get started you can have hours of harmful fun! As you can see, I already have all my tools prepared, but you will need to scavenge the remaining items for yourself. A friend will give you a crowbar, but as you travel through the underbelly of City 17, a zombie infested town whose only inhabitant is a nutcase pirate wannabe, and a coastline infested with Combine and weird bug things that want to eat you, don't miss any opportunities to pick up extra weaponry. So, you will need a crowbar, USP Match, a Heckler & Koch MP7, a .357 Magnum, several MK3A2 Grenades, a Combine SPAS-12, an Overwatch Standard Issue Pulse Rifle, an RPG, a roughly cobbled crossbow, and possibly other weapons that I can’t remember right now. Now, what you need to do, boys and girls, is to wait until the dropships are coming into land, because then you’ll know where the troops are coming out. Then just as the dropships are landing you hide nearby where they can’t see you, because that will give you the element of surprise. Remember kids: they can’t see ya, they ain’t gonna beat ya! And want you want to do now is to jump out, right as the Overwatch are getting their bearings, and slam five consecutive bullets into their foreheads. Just like that. See? It’s easy. Now you try it! Okay, I’m sorry. But that does seem to be the best strategy. Wait until they’ve only just been dropped off and waste the smeggers right there and then before they’ve got a clue what’s going on. “They’re comin’ in over the road!” Great. You know, the Combine are really inconsiderate. Couldn’t they have landed somewhere other than the other side of the town... village... thing? You’re right; I should focus on the job at hand. Hoof? I dunno. Once I was done with the ones coming over the road, Braeburn shouted “Another one comin’ in at the lighthouse!” And then when I had dealt with those guys, a gunship raised itself out of smegging NOWHERE and started strafing at me, so me and some other ponies took shelter in the lighthouse. “I’m gonna have to take that thing out, aren’t I?” I asked. “Sorry, but you’re the fella wit’ the RPG,” said Braeburn. “There’s a crate o’ rockets up the top ‘case ya run out.” “Thanks,” I said, and this time I actually meant it. I got the feeling that Braeburn was a pretty decent guy – certainly a guy I wouldn’t mind having a beer with. And hey, Rarity said she fancied him before the invasion, and any friend of my friend is a friend of mine. Well, probably more than a friend by now, but that’s beside the point. Hey, do you ever get these weird impulses whenever something dangerous is nearby? Like, say you were heading to school one morning and you got the sudden urge to jump in front of a car just to see what would happen. Or when you get up to the top of a lighthouse, you start to feel like jumping off. Do you ever get that? I do. It’s so weird. I scare myself sometimes. I wonder what it’s like to get hit by an RPG. Judging by what happened to that one Overwatch soldier who just WOULDN’T SMEGGING DIE, it can’t be very pleasant. Of course, it’s okay for the gunships, because they can take three before they go down. Speaking of which... Triple check and mate, sucker! Oh smeg, did I seriously think that? I gotta calm down; I don’t want to turn into a smegging serial killer! Deep breaths... that’s better. Urge to kill lowering. Heart rate returning to normal. That’s better. You know, I feel curiously better for that. Thing is, what if another one comes along? I grabbed some extra rockets and headed back downstairs, to where Braeburn was waiting for me. “Y’all okay?” he asked. “I’ve been better,” I told him, “but I think I’ll live.” “Good ta know,” said Braeburn. “Twilight’s gonna need all the help she kin git at Nova Discord.” “How far is it?” “Lighthouse Point makes the two-third point from City 17, and Little Flimflam makes the one-third point, so you ain’t got far to go. But since the Combine’s on the hunt for ya, y’all will have ta walk from here.” I cursed something horrible in my mind. “Ah’ll let ya out onta the cliff path,” said Braeburn, “but Ah’m ‘fraid from there y’all will be alone.” “I understand,” I told him, “but I think I’ll be okay. Let me just grab some extra ammo.” He nodded, and I ran up and out of the lighthouse. Raiding guns for ammunition is a lot easier when you can actually use your telekinesis to lift something heavier than a feather. When I got back in Braeburn was in the basement, and had opened a door which led out onto a cliff path, like he’d said. I thanked him for his help and left Lighthouse Point. The cliff path was very narrow and broken in places which were hardly reasonable, but I made it across and into a sheltered tunnel bit. I considered curling up and taking a quick nap – seriously, I’m starting to get really tired – but I had a job to do and by smeg I was going to get it done. On the other side of the tunnel I came to a bit where there was a ring of wide, flat rocks protruding from the ground. They cut off the grassy bit I stood on from a bit which was sand as far as the eye could see, surrounded by walls of rock which weren’t quite tall enough to qualify as cliffs. On another couple of flat rocks, cut off from the rest by a ring of sand, where two pegasi. Mares. One (unconscious) grey with a blonde mane and bubbles cutie mark, the other amber with a turquoise mane and triple raindrop cutie mark. “Stop!” she commanded. “Don’t come any closer! Whatever you do, don’t touch the sand, it drives the antlions crazy!” “Well, can I help?” I asked, because there had to be something I could do, but then the grey mare began to stir. “No!” cried her friend. “No, Ditzy, don’t get up-” Too late. The grey mare, apparently named Ditzy, rolled off the rock and onto the sand, and as soon as she did a group of antlions sprang out of the ground and started to savage the two mares. I shot them all and blew them to smithereens, but like I said, it was too late. The grey one was dead. “Ditzy,” he friend moaned, “no...” She turned to me. “You should go,” she said, tears trickling down her cheeks. “Fluttershy’s camp is up ahead, but whatever you do, stay off the sand. There’s nothing else you can do now.” Easier said than done. There’re plenty of rocks raised above the sand, and lots of big sheets of steel and stuff for me to haul around and make temporary stepping stones (even though they weren’t stones) but it was still quite a challenge. And even though I know I’m supposed to be focused on the task at hand (hoof? I can never figure this out) there was so much pain in that mare’s eyes. It was obvious those two had been friends for a very, very long time, and now that grey one had just been killed... What was her name? Ditzy? I didn’t even know who she was, and now she’s dead... and now that’s got me thinking. How many innocent ponies – ponies I didn’t know, had never or would never or could never know – were killed by the Combine? ‘How many ponies were there in Equestria’ would be a more useful question really, because I suspect that about 90% were taken in by the Combine, so that would leave about 10% of the population remaining: still a significant number, and maybe 0.75% if not 1% were Resistance... Why the smeg am I trying to turn this into something mathematical? Because maths is something I understand, along with science, technology and how to not die. Those are the few things I really and I mean truly know, along with how to make a fool of myself in front of the mare I love. And everypony’s acting as though I’m some big hero, like any second I’m going to pull a machete out of my arse and go Jason Voorhees on the Advisors while shooting Trixie in the forehead with a .44 Magnum (the most powerful handgun in the world – do ya feel lucky?) and summoning smegging Cthulhu to devour the Citadel and poop a rainbow to cleanse the world and free all the little bunnies. I am not a hero. I’ve learned a lot about being a hero, having practically been the substitute brother of one for the best several years of my life (and no, she didn’t friendzone me; we just never thought of each other in that way) but there’s no way I’m ever going to be a real one. Although... Brown hair? Check. Green eyes? Check. Glasses? Check. Powered armour? Check. Ridiculous amounts of firepower? Check. Crowbar? Check. Fighting the Combine while trying to assist love interest and not be killed myself? Check. Holy smeg... I’m turning into Gordon Freeman! The reason I’m rambling like this is because, again, I’m sure you’re not interested in every single little detail of my trek across what used to be the beaches of Equestria, and was now a breeding ground for these antlion things. The worst part is that if I put so much as a hoof on the sand they spring up like a jack-in-the-box, but don’t seem to notice if I stand on a steel door or sheet of corrugated iron which somehow wound up nearby. Seriously, how did this stuff even get here? I’d understand if it came along with the Combine – with just about everything else, it would seem – but how did it end up all over the beach? WHOA. That was too close. Almost fell off. Okay, how am I going to do this? This sort of seesaw thing. I’m gonna have to try and put as much weight as possible on one end so I can use it as a slope to get onto that big rock up there. I think that should be enough. If not... SMEG!! Gotta run gotta run gotta run gotta shoot the antlions, and stop them from eating my head. There. Safe- Not safe and sound! Whew. That was close. One of them landed on my back. My back, for smeg’s sake! I only just got my crowbar out in time. And now I’ve got antlion brains on the back of my neck. Yuck. Second time lucky. As I was saying... Because of me all of Equestria has fallen into complete and total ruin. I’m pretty sure the Cutie Mark Crusaders weren’t supposed to be freedom fighters. Who the smeg wants an SMG on their flank, anyway? Although that would be kinda cool... But that wasn’t what they were supposed to be. They were supposed to grow up with normal lives, not having to battle and wage war just for the right to breathe. And even worse: I know what the Combine do to children. It isn’t nice, and I’m not going to tell you what it is, just that they don’t come back. Or if they do, you can’t recognise them. Sometimes, I wonder how any creature could be so evil. When I was travelling with Amber I came across the most unspeakable horrors in the multiverse, and somehow I retained my sanity... I think. Quite often I rely on others to tell me about my mental state, because I’m sure you’ll agree that your own self can’t be very good for that kind of evaluation. For example, I once asked Amber to tell me if I snored, and she told me that I did, but I didn’t believe her, so I set up a recorder just in case. Turns out she wasn’t just right: I snored like a pig with pneumonia. See what I mean? Judging yourself can only lead to trouble, and thanks to Amber I spent nearly ten days in the Chasm of Sar. I’m not saying you should never think about yourself – it can save your life. Like... Equestria isn’t just a world anymore. It’s MY world. It’s the world I chose to live in, and I’m going to take responsibility for it. How dare the Combine come here and try to destroy it. How DARE they! These were innocent ponies. I bet some of them had never even heard the word ‘war’ before. And... How many ponies were there in Ponyville alone who hadn’t left school yet? How many didn’t have their cutie marks? How many... How many weren’t even old enough for school? All those ponies... Oh smeg it, I can’t afford to think like this right now. But... I know I have a job to do. I know I have to get to Nova Discord and help Twilight get the Doctor, but that doesn’t mean I can’t think about stuff. Okay. Better get my head in the game. I can see a thumper up ahead. I think it’s something to do with vibrations: they thump really heavy weights into the ground and antlions can’t go within about fifteen metres of them. But it’s turned off, and there aren’t really any easily accessible and large enough pieces of debris for me to form stepping stones with. I’m just gonna have to leg it. Time it right... three, two one- RUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNPRESSTHEBUTTONQUICK!! Phew. Turned it on just in time. Thing is now I’m surrounded by the smegging things, and every time I shoot one two more take its place. There’s a massive mound of rocks over there, and I don’t need X-ray vision to see there’s something on the other side. I can hear something moving as well. And it... kinda sounds like it’s... pretty big. But in the words of Prince Vultan and Freddie Mercury, who wants to live forever? This shouldn’t be too hard. I can levitate myself and a buggy at the same time, so just levitating myself shouldn’t be too hard. Heck, if I do this enough times it should be as easy as lifting a feather. Here we go. Give me some dramatic music for atmosphere, would you? Dundundun dundundun dundundundun DUNDUN dun dun ditdit DAH DAH DAH. Dundundun dundundun dundundundun DUNDUN dun dun ditdit NAH NAH NAH badadah badadah badadadiddlelat-dah... badadah badadah bedah-daddle-lah! The shadows are getting rather long. I wonder how long I’ve been doing this, and yes, that is the fighter music from Star Wars, from the scene where Han Solo and Luke Skywalker battle the Empire after rescuing Princess Leia. Before that franchise became more overused than primary school sports equipment. Pretty good music for flying by magic, don’t you think? And it worked, too! Antlions can fly. Sorry, but when I’m annoyed I quite often state the obvious in a sarcastic deadpan voice, but I’m sure I’m not the only one who does. OH SMEG. I was right: on the other side of this rock wall there’s an enormous empty basin of sand. Pure sand. It’s covered in tiny little bits of litter and for some reason, barrels of explosive liquid. Heh, it’s okay, I wasn’t planning on living today. HO. LY. SMEG. GING. HELL. That thing is absolutely smegging HUGE!!! It looks like the mother of all antlions! And it’s coming right for me like a charging bull. Holy smeg, I am done for. GAH! It almost hit me! I think I know the reason for those barrels of explosive stuff now. Let me just pick one up... There we are. Right. I’ve got to wait until it’s charging at me again. Then I’ve got the best chance of a good shot, even though it sounds like the most terrifyingly bad plan in the history of terrifyingly bad plans. Counting down to one... ONE! It hit, but I think I just made it angry. Let me just try again. Okay, okay, deep breaths, stay calm... ONE AGAIN! It kinda looks like it’s bleeding now. It’s got stuff pouring off it in buckets, and it’s absolutely disgusting. Were it not for the sand I would be swimming in the stuff. I think one more shot should do the trick. Just stay calm, you can do this, Hex... And, for the third time, ONE! There. I’ve done it. It’s dead. I hope. “Thank you, Hex.” Wait a sec- it can’t be! “That monster wasn’t letting anypony leave.” I turned around, and saw that it was indeed who I thought it was. Or maybe it’s some other yellow pegasus with a long pink mane and greenish-blue eyes. “Fluttershy!” I cried, and she ran over and gave me a great big hug. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so bad. If she charged money for hugs, this girl could quite possibly be the richest mare in Equestria. Seriously, for the fifteen seconds I spent hugging her, I felt considerably better about myself. “You might want to stand back a little,” she said when she released me, and approached the dead giant antlion. “Getting the pheropods out is... not very clean, I’m afraid.” Pheropods? She took a knife out of a saddlebag and slit open the monster’s abdomen (yuck) before reaching in (double yuck) and pulling out some small pod-like things about the size of cricket balls, which squeaked like two inflatables being rubbed together when she gave them to me. “Follow me,” she said, and headed through a door in an artificial wall in the rock. She seems to have got a lot more confident since the invasion, but I don’t really want to know how that happened. It was probably some horrible experience she had to live through. And she seemed totally fine with me killing that giant antlion thing, which means she’s lost a little of her love for animals. And... her love for animals was what made her Fluttershy. It’s what made her who she was. If she’s lost that... Wow, it’s nice and shady in here. Cool too. Apart from the shelter and the fire over there with the group of demon dogs and the... is that a zebra? She’s white with black stripes, so I guess she is, but what is one of them doing in a place like this? “Greetings Hex, and have no dread,” she said when she saw me, “Nova Discord is just up ahead, but if in this life you wish to stay, you must let Miss Fluttershy show you the way.” Um... “Thanks.” I guess zebras in Equestria speak in rhyme. Wish somepony had told me so it didn’t seem so weird. Fluttershy led me up a narrow path and through a small opening into a much larger cave which looked like it was split into two levels, one considerably lower than the other and with a pit in the middle, and on the edge of that pit a dummy of an Overwatch pony (at least, I sincerely hoped it was a dummy) was tied to a large post. “This is something you’ll have to remember, if that’s alright with you,” said the yellow pegasus, and she sounded like her old meek self again. Maybe she hasn’t changed as much as I’d thought. “What is it?” I asked. “It doesn’t involve going onto the sand, does it? It’s just that every time I do-” Fluttershy promptly stepped onto the sand, and not one, not two, but three antlions sprang out of the ground. “That happens,” I finished unnecessarily. The antlions focused upon me and her and started making a beeline. I drew my crowbar in preparation, but Fluttershy held up a hoof to stop me. Good thing she did, too: rather than attacking, the bugs swarmed around us as if we were their mother. It was kinda cute in a weird, slightly grotesque way. “How are you doing that?” I asked. “No, wait: it’s the pheropods, isn’t it?” “Um, yes,” said Fluttershy. “The antlion queens use them to control the rest of the swarm. Poor things.” “Poor things?” “Before the Combine came here, they used to be pony-like shape-changing creatures called Changelings. But the invasion happened, and the portal storms mutated the poor little babies until they didn’t even look like ponies anymore. And, um, you probably already know about the parasprites.” “Yeah,” I said, “and I really wish I didn’t.” “So do I,” Fluttershy said, and wiped away a tear. “I thought dragons were scary, but dragons would never mutilate innocent creatures just because they could. Oh, my poor little Angel...” She let out a small sob, but was quick to compose herself. “Anyway,” she said, “that’s in the past now. Nova Discord is a dangerous place and you’re going to need some help. And I think these little guys will be more than happy to help you.” She tossed a pheropod into the pit, and the antlions clustered around the point of impact and clawed at it as if trying to dig the spilt pheromones out of the sand. Gotta admit: that’s rather impressive. “Can I try?” I asked. “Go right ahead,” she said. Just to experiment I threw a pheropod at what I had sincerely hoped was a dummy. You should have seen it: the antlions tore into that thing as if it had eaten one of their babies and they were trying to get it out. “Whoa,” was all I could say. “That’s what everypony else said when they saw what the pheropods do to the antlions,” Fluttershy explained. “If you squeeze them, they’ll follow you wherever you go.” I gave a pheropod a small squish, and true to the pegasus’ word, the trio of bug things leapt to attention in a rather staggered flock by my side. “Wait a minute,” I said as something else caught my attention. “What if I run out?” “Pheropods regenerate themselves,” said Fluttershy as she walked over to a gate, “so you won’t be running out any time soon.” She pulled on a lever and the gate was winched high enough for me and the bugs to pass underneath. “Good luck,” she wished me. “Celestia knows you’re going to need it.” It was a lot darker on the other side, but there was a soft glow at the end of the tunnel. No, I wasn’t dead. I think I would have noticed. As I made my way out I was met by more antlions, and I gave a pheropod a squeeze to make sure they followed me, but I hadn’t got ten metres from the other side when I ran into a thumper. It was within range of another thumper as well, which meant I could either continue on alone and get cheesed (like getting creamed, but takes a bit longer and is generally more complicated) or turn them off and risk getting detected. There was a third option: turn around and high-tail it out of there. But what kind of pony do you think I am? So I climbed up the ladder and to where the controls were situated and turned the thumper off, and as I suspected a feminine if robotic voice declared that the antlion defences had been breached. I couldn’t make out what it was saying, but I knew that I would have to make this quick. I wonder if they had any world wars in Equestria, because then I would have a “storming the beach” to compare this too, but that seems unlikely so I’m going to compare this to the beach-storming at Normandy during WW2. Only I bet those troops didn’t send a single smegging bloke in an HEV suit with a small horde of antlions at his flank. But you know what the best part is? Everything’s happening on the sand, so by attacking me the Combine are really just increasing the odds that are already stacked against them by my ridiculous amounts of firepower (and a crowbar – the crowbar is the important bit). Let’s DO this! The last time I did this was exactly never ago. Yeah, you may find it hard to believe, but never before in my life have I attacked a large Combine depot with a swarm of mutated pony bug things. But I should be able to work this out: run like hell, throw a pheropod here and there to lure the antlions into attack – they really will do ANYTHING to get that stuff – and shoot anypony who somehow manages to survive the hordes. I’m alternating between guns to save on ammunition, but I’m saving my pistol for any headcrabs that may or may not come along because it isn’t exactly the most powerful weapon in my artillery. Thing is, it’s pretty hard to gallop on sand, because it’s so soft. It’s like it drains your energy or something and- OW! See, I just slipped and got a face full of sand. Ever got sand in your mouth? Not very nice, is it? And it’s even worse when it goes up your nose. I miss my fingers sometimes. Hang on... THAT’S how the non-unicorns fire guns! They have the handles in their mouths and use their tongues to pull the triggers. Except the pegasi: by the looks of things they use their prehensile feathers to both hold and shoot the firearms. Glad I worked that out. But it would still be nice to see a unicorn or two. I’m starting to feel like they might be hornist. That sounded really dirty, didn’t it? Forget I said it. Okay, it looks like I’m going to have to keep close to the watchtowers, because otherwise they’ve got a clear shot at my big brown head. Thing is, it’s the one part of my body which is uncovered, but they all take pot shots at my body. It’s really strange, and according to my PFM I’m getting nothing but bruises. WOW. That must be Nova Discord. I’d heard it was heavily fortified, but the other Resistance members could have spared a moment to tell me it was HUGE. I think it’s built into the cliff, because it’s absolutely massive. I don’t really want to have to paint you a picture. Lots of spotlights too, but I doubt a place that gargantuan could ever have anypony breaking out. It’s like Shawshank without the smeghead warden or the epic story. Looks like I’m going to have to climb up this cliff. At least there’s a good ladder. But why have ladders in a world populated entirely by creatures with no way of holding onto the rungs except for wrists and ankles? It’s pretty hard – not impossible, but hard. At least I can throw some pheropods overhead so my antlion buddies can take out any Overwatch up above. Huh, that was interesting. See, my way in is going to have to be this massive pipe, and a pegasus zombie just jumped out, straight past me, and crashed into the ocean several hundred metres below. That was very interesting. In I go, then. Looks like it’ll be a while before I actually get into the prison structure, so I’ll have to take out the Combine troops still dumb enough to think they can take us all down – by us, I mean me and the antlions. Seriously, they may have been a bit murderous towards me before, but now their genocidal attitude is coming in rather handy. Look at that! That one just took out two of them as if it was nothing! Cool or what? And they’re working in teams, too. This is, by far, the most interesting firefight I have ever been involved in. What’s odd is that it rather looks as if a few of the more intelligent soldiers are trying to reason with the bugs, or convince them to attack me instead. And they’re getting clawed to pieces. I know this should be laughable, but in truth... In truth, it’s rather sad. It means those ponies have retained enough of their old selves to have a little intelligence. And that intelligence has just been snuffed out. I should move on. They’re dead, which means there’s nothing else I can do for them, just like there was nothing I could do for that grey mare who I saw die in her friend’s hooves. Oh smeg, there’s another gunship! It’s okay, I’ve got a full stock of rockets and I can see a crate over there. I’ll just- just hit it, like that. And again. Whoa, it almost hit me that time! One more shot... Just like that. It’s dead. And hey, it blew up a pipeline and now there’s a great big hole in the wall! Alright, it looks as if it leads into a maintenance area or something, but that’s a start. It’ll lead into the main prison structure. Don’t worry, Twilight. I’m on my way.