Act IV: Climactic Collisions
Chapter 12: Mistakes Made, Stakes Raised
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Corey had resumed using his speed buff again, trying to get some distance from Slayer. Slayer was in pursuit, using his tendrils for mobility and offense. The amount of range Slayer had wasn’t something to be trifled with. Corey rushed through the streets, occasionally hopping forward, sometimes to the left or right to dodge Slayer’s attacks.
Looks like he’s stopped sending his creatures after me, Corey thought, I guess after that light spell I did, he didn’t want to keep using up energy on creatures I could easily banish.
Corey cast a quick glance behind him, seeing that he’d lost Slayer, and quickly dove into the nearest building he could find cover in—a run-down building that hadn’t been used in a while, clearly. Corey stood behind one of the boarded-up windows, taking in a deep breath to compose himself.
He’s definitely running off a grudge, that much for sure. I need to be caref—
A chill seized Corey and he leapt up towards the ceiling, two tendrils smashing through the boards and nearly skewering Corey where he stood. Corey exhaled roughly, landing in a dodge. The tendrils retracted for a few moments, before being joined by many others, reducing the window space to nothing more than a hole in the wall. Slayer glared at Corey now, his eyes alight with malice.
“You should have understood it sooner!” Slayer shouted, “My magic isn’t going to be stopped by such simple materials!”
He threw his arms out towards Corey, Corey having to speed up to avoid the slashes. Deciding to try to land a hit on Slayer, Corey rushed forward, ready to attack, only to have two more tendrils come out from behind Slayer and wrap themselves around his forearms up to the wrist. The other tendrils retracted as Slayer pulled his closed fists back.
Corey planted his feet hard, managing to hold his ground against Slayer’s pull. Slayer looked alarmed for a moment that Corey was able to resist, but his look of confusion soon morphed into a sadistic smirk.
“You idiot…”
Corey took in a deep breath, runes starting to appear first around his arms, then his whole body, forming a sort of green glow around him. Slayer’s tendril had just started to leave his body when Corey moved his arms as hard as possible, yanking Slayer up, right, and towards him, letting the tendril meant for his chest scrape the ground uselessly. Slayer hit the storefront hard enough to make the building quake, and the tendrils retracted. Corey sped outside to the building across the street, looking over to see Slayer stunned. Leaping over yet again, Corey cocked his fist back.
“Gotcha!” Corey shouted, punching out. The attack hit home, right to Slayer’s jaw. The force of the blow sent Slayer spiraling through the air, and his eyes momentarily bulged out from the force of the hit.
Slayer sprawled out on the road, momentarily dazed. However, as he refocused and began to stand up again, Slayer detected a taste he hadn’t tasted in his own mouth very often: his blood. Slayer spat, wiping at his mouth to try to get the rest of it. Corey stood across from Slayer, taking a moment to collect himself.
“Damn you…” Slayer grumbled, “Why haven’t you succumbed to your hatred yet!? Certainly just fighting me again should have set you off by now!”
Corey sighed for a moment, cracking his knuckles, keeping his magic active. “Am I not following your plot again? Is that why you’re after me now?”
Slayer paused for a couple of moments.
“Sure, I did things I regret while I fought you before,” Corey said, “But now I see. It wasn’t exactly a win for you either. You managed to make me lose my mind in ways I never thought possible until then.”
Slayer snarled, a claw appearing over his closed fist as he stood up and rushed at Corey again. “Like hell you could comprehend my process!”
Corey dodged Slayer’s claw strike easily, the glow of magic the only evidence he had been a few inches to the left when Slayer started his charge.
“But you lost control over the fight as well. For the first time since your career had started,” Corey continued, avoiding a good deal of Slayer’s attacks and parrying others. Slayer snarled, forming another set of claws over his other fist, but Corey kept right on going, “You had lost, physically defeated. I defied the fate you had imagined for me. That was the first time that had happened to you, right?”
Slayer let out a howl of rage. “Maybe it was! But that doesn’t matter now! I’m getting even with you!”
Slayer lunged forth with both claws, only for Corey to rotate his body and kick him hard in the chest, once again lifting Slayer from his feet. Slayer managed to spin through the air, digging his magical claws into the ground. For a few moments, the glow around his horn died.
“So that’s what it is, then. Counting your original arrest, you’ve lost twice,” Corey said, “Third time’s the charm though,” Corey pointed at Slayer, but no laser came this time, “After today, your reign of terror’s done for good.”
Slayer once again snarled to him, getting to his feet. This pony—this unicorn, was hell bent on opposing him, sane or not. It was a tough pill to swallow, but admittedly, Corey had his number there. Slayer shook his head, composing himself, letting the new anger within him grow. His glower was slowly starting to fade as he kindled his own hate, remembering why he’d been so grateful to fate for letting him meet Corey so soon. He still had one card left to play.
Corey’s face bunched into an angry frown as he saw Slayer’s horn light up again. The black-blue that surrounded his horn suddenly began to fluctuate between the two colors, and seemed to expand to cover Slayer’s entire body. Suddenly, Slayer’s body began to change, the glow of magic seeming to fade into his very skin—no, become his very skin. From the feet up, Slayer’s very body began to be shrouded by thick torrents of dark magic, exuding the deep chills of hatred and evil that lurked deep within Slayer’s heart.
“I admit that I’ve underestimated you consistently ever since this game of ours started,” Slayer said, the shroud traveling up his body, covering every conceivable millimeter with its black-blue hue, “But that ends now. Had I known you would have grown to be this much of a thorn in my side, I would have just done this from the start!”
Corey gasped against himself as the shroud seemed to eat Slayer’s face. While the shape of Slayer’s body was still distinctly humanoid—equinoid, whichever it was, including the horn, his body and face had indeed changed. Two white eyes opened within the shroud, along with a white wiry line that soon turned into a malevolent sneer. The claws that Slayer loved to form at close range were much sharper and larger this time, and he had a matching set on his feet. Four tendrils extended from the transformed Slayer’s back. As Corey took in the new form, he realized what he was looking at: another one of Slayer’s constructs.
“I guess I just enjoy playing with my prey too much!” Slayer cackled, his tendrils allowing him to propel himself forward, arms at the ready.
Corey braced himself, the glow around his body ending. He pumped runic magic into his arms, his horn alight as his defensive attributes went up, allowing him to parry the initial claw strike…
…which caused pain to rake across the forearm he’d used to do it. Corey had no time to dwell on this, bouncing aside a few more slashes from those claws. Slayer then leaned back, using his tendrils as support. Corey barely had time to form a runic shield around his torso before the claws made impact; the shield shattered and Corey was still flung backwards, managing to recover. Corey looked to his forearms, canceling the buff for just a moment.
There were scratches all over his arms where he’d parried Slayer’s attacks; while he wasn’t bleeding from them, it still really hurt. Corey got to his feet, pressing the sides of his thumbs against each other as he threw out another blast. Slayer took the shot to the chest; though the shot didn’t pierce the shroud, his tactic seemed to work.
Taking advantage of Slayer’s seeming pause from the attack, Corey hopped back, fingers pressed to his face as he let out a grunt. Those white-yellow runes appeared once more, and soon enough, a blinding flash once again filled the area. Slayer howled in pain, and as the light cleared, Corey could see that it seemed to work: his shroud of dark magic was gone, and even better, this time he did manage to blind Slayer.
Now’s my chance! thought Corey, running straight for Slayer, his fist cocked back. His gut suddenly churned with unease for a moment, and Corey blinked; Slayer was sneering, one of his forearms cocked back, cloaked in that dark claw.
Corey barely had time to move his head as he passed, and didn’t get out unscathed; the claws raked across his left cheek, leaving three cuts behind. Pressing his hand to the new wound, Corey quickly turned, seeing Slayer, laughing, the shroud forming around him once more as though it had never been blasted off to begin with.
“Did you really think it would be that easy? Did you, Corey?” Slayer laughed, leaping forward to try to claw down at Corey again. Corey quickly leapt back, letting Slayer hit the road yet again.
“It hasn’t been easy since I got here,” Corey shook his head, his horn lighting up and allowing the healing spell to do its work yet again, closing the wounds. Corey clenched his fists, focusing as he allowed himself to first write runes around his feet, then his arms. The runes seemed to expand once again to cover his whole body in a glow.
Slayer launched tendril shots in Corey’s direction, and Corey moved, but not in the way Slayer expected. Slayer watched as Corey ran into the net of tendrils—and there were a lot more than just the four. Corey wove and dodged, but wasn’t quite effective at it, Slayer’s tendrils still drawing blood, leaving cuts in his clothing and skin.
“Idiot, what are you doing?” Slayer asked in a mock-concerned tone, “Shouldn’t you be getting some dist—“
Slayer coughed abruptly, and he looked down to see Corey had closed the distance entirely, landing a savage blow to his midsection. Slayer staggered backwards, mild shock negating the fact he could see Corey bleeding as a result of his reckless maneuver.
“It’s a trade-off I’ve gotta make the best of,” Corey said, “I may be able to increase my attributes simultaneously now, but if I do that I can’t use any other spells while my strength and speed are augmented.”
Slayer snarled, leaping forward again, aching to sink his claws into Corey’s chest. This was not to be; Corey merely grabbed at Slayer, tossing him through the air with great force. As he did so, Corey canceled his strength buff, his arms returning to their normal size. He then pumped his palms forward like pistons, sending a small shower of green magical energy in Slayer’s direction.
Slayer snarled, digging two tendrils into buildings on opposite sides of the street to gain leverage. This stopped his trajectory, allowing him to bat away the shots. He looked down, seeing Corey wasn’t in front of him, but he didn’t have to do much searching. He heard the sound of shoes scraping off bricks, and he turned his head, just in time to catch a shoe directly to the face.
The momentum of the flying kick dislodged Slayer’s hold and he fell to the road, digging his claws into the ground for traction. Slayer looked up, withholding the sense of dread that was welling up in him as Corey landed down, runes appearing around the injuries he had sustained during his earlier charge.
I can’t believe it… Slayer grumbled, Even taking this form, I still can’t turn the tides at all!?
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The city trembled around them, but neither of them could feel it. The air echoed with the sounds of combat, but it fell on deaf ears. The city of Canterlot, the war waged within its walls may as well have been in another world entirely to the two warriors standing across from one another. One was a dragon who, in spite of being thrown into a species he knew nothing of had come to embrace who he was and what he could do. The other looked to be a sabertooth tiger from deep within the pits of Tartarus, and one of the last pawns to a crazed ringmaster pulling the strings.
After their first meeting a month ago, they were finally able to stand before one another once again. But this time, it was in a manner that was to their mutual liking. This time, John was at full strength, and likely even stronger than he was back then. This time, he would discover what Kronos was truly capable of. But while he wanted nothing more than to finally settle what had been put on hold, there was something John needed to say.
“You’re different from the others,” he said, “All the other prisoners, at least, the ones I’ve met, had an unquenchable bloodlust that stained the air around them. Not you, though. Something about you is different. You could have killed me back then, killed those who were bedridden and unable to defend themselves. You could have killed someone that night, but you didn’t. Why?”
It was a question that had eaten at him for a long time. John had been spared by that seeming lack of foresight on Kronos’ part, but it didn’t soothe him in the least. It didn’t mesh with the other prisoners at all. Kronos remained silent, and for a moment, John thought he would never get an answer.
Until…
“Ninety-nine,” Kronos said.
“What do you mean?” John arched his brow, wondering what that number meant, if anything.
“To this day, I have taken ninety-nine lives with my own hands,” Kronos said, lifting up his clawed paws for emphasis, “But they were no helpless victims, no, anything but. The targets I chose, the lives I ended, all had one thing in common.”
Kronos spread his arms wide, indicating the sounds of violence around them, “Warriors. All of them, those are who I chose to battle. But not just any would do—I needed opponents who could give me a momentous battle, ones who could actually take my life if I were not careful. Some of them were the worst this world could offer, not unlike those you’ve faced up until now, but most were the best. Whether they were decorated or tainted, it didn’t matter to me. All that mattered was the strength of my opponent.”
The number had meaning at that moment. John understood at once what Kronos was saying.
“To date, I have won a total of ninety-nine duels to the death,” Kronos extended an arm forward, pointing at the dragon before him, “And I’ve decided you worthy of being my hundredth.”
There was no denying it. Kronos was indeed different from the others; he didn’t care about the misery the game caused, nor was he out to cause it. All he wanted to do was sate his warriors’ pride—something which held important to him even after years of imprisonment.
“Does that answer sate your curiosity?”
John had gotten the answer to his question. There was no reason to stall any longer. John flexed his body, popping a few joints in the process. This battle was going to push his body further than any of the ones previous; he needed to be ready.
Kronos, for his part, was prepared as well, and with a single motion of his arm he ripped off his cloak in entirety. What he revealed, however, caused John to gasp in surprise. It was still Kronos under the cloak, but there was something else. He was wearing an armor—a full body cast made of hide, but John recognized it; not just by color, but by species. John knew in an instant whose skin Kronos was wearing.
“Lyon…” John muttered. Nemean Lyon, John’s first real fight, the first to teach him his own limits and forced him to surpass them… he had returned, in the form of Kronos’ armor, “Now that’s a surprise,” John chuckled a little.
“I know of your strength and your durability,” Kronos said, “While I trust in my own strength, I knew of one other who could rival your durability, someone I recall you couldn’t defeat without a helping hand. He isn’t here now, though, so tell me, how do you think you’ll fare?”
John tilted his head at Kronos and lowered his stance. Digging his claws into the ground, he looked at him with steel resolve.
“Let’s find out.”
John kicked off from the ground, launching himself towards Kronos at a high speed. But Kronos’ own reflexes were capable of keeping up as he braced himself. As John threw the first punch, he discovered it had been blocked by Kronos’ forearm. True to how it had been before, the hide had defended Kronos from the brunt of the attack. And with that, Kronos was free to counter, easily landing a punch to John’s stomach.
However, John’s own body was resilient as well. Though he twitched from the impact, John wasn’t backing down. Pressing forward, John landed his own punch on Kronos’ stomach with the same result. Instantly, both broke apart and opened the gap between them, only to close it once again.
John spun and swung his tail over which Kronos dodged with a well-timed duck. He tried to respond with a leg sweep, but John jumped to avoid it. John followed this with a hard punch down, but Kronos intercepted this by grabbing his arm and flipping him over and slamming him into the ground. John flinched for a moment, but managed to recover fast enough to see Kronos’ punch coming down on him.
John rolled out of the way and saw that the punch caused the ground beneath it to crater. Kronos did have some impressive strength behind him, but he wasn’t going to let it phase him. Jumping off the ground, John quickly brought his foot up and slammed it under Kronos’ chin. The strike knocked Kronos off his feet, but with a quick backflip, he was back on his feet. Kronos kneeled down, wiping his chin and looking towards John. He smirked.
“You’ve improved,” Kronos stood up, “Now then, show me just how much.”
Both rushed each other again, their fists colliding with one another in the center. Kronos ducked in closer and threw several jabs which landed across John’s chest. This was followed up by a kick to the side of his head. John spun in response, but as he came around, he managed to swing his tail around and land a hard blow to Kronos’ side.
The tiger flew across the street from the impact and crashed into a solid wall. He shook his head for a moment and looked up only to see John was upon him again. Though able to put up his guard, Kronos couldn’t avoid the tackle which caused both of them to break through the wall. What he could do, though, was put John into a headlock.
Shit! John quickly started trying to break free, but Kronos had a very hard hold of him. The hold wasn’t the only thing he had to worry about, though; a moment later, John felt a hard knee slam into his stomach. Before he could recover from the first hit, another came, and another, before he managed to finally put up a guard for the third. But blocking the attack wouldn’t get him out of his predicament. So, just as Kronos hit his guard with another knee, John moved quickly, grabbing hold of the leg.
Now with his own hold on his opponent, John began to swing his body about, crashing him into various appliances and walls within. Finally, after slamming Kronos’ body into another wall, his grip loosened, and John took his change. With one final hard swing, John managed to throw Kronos clear across the room.
Now that John was free, he looked towards Kronos and took in a deep breath. Kronos saw this and quickly crossed his arms over his head just as John let out a torrent of flames. The fire quickly overtook the area around Kronos, completely engulfing him. But from within the flames Kronos’ jumped out, his face covered by the hood of his armor. John’s fire was stopped, Kronos forced his mouth shut with one hand.
‘Course it’d still be fireproof, John thought to himself, the flames from before beginning to spread across the room. The heat from it caused the sprinklers to set off and the two were showered from above. John grabbed Kronos by the wrist and pulled his hands off from his mouth. He then followed up with a punch which Kronos managed to catch. The two then followed with a knee, clashing in the center.
The two pushed against each other in hopes of overpowering their opponent, but neither gave an inch. Their feet skidded across the floor of the building they were in, but neither was able to press forward. After it became clear to the two that it would go nowhere, both brought their heads back and landed a simultaneous head-butt against the other’s forehead. Kronos looked up at John, and noticed the flames expelling from the sides of his mouth. His head wasn’t as well-protected as the rest of him; if he took that blast of fire at this range, it would prove fatal. Before John could throw his flame, Kronos ducked out of the path.
Then John grinned, and Kronos realized his error. And he noticed the kick heading right for him. The kick landed on his shoulder and knocked him back some, but he wasn’t going down. Kronos grabbed hold of John’s leg and managed to lift him off the ground. Kronos then slammed John face-first into the ground before lifting him hard enough to hit the ceiling. Kronos ended his assault with a hard side kick which launched John outside again.
John continued to fly after his body left the inside of the building, eventually going into a full-on tumble across the ground.
“Dammit!” he hissed, as he pushed himself off the ground and back on to his feet. Kronos was a lot more agile than he’d anticipated, and his reaction time was pretty much spot-on. But really, what could he expect from one of the last prisoners from Norma’s alliance?
“Saving the best for last, I guess…” John mumbled to himself as he watched Kronos walk out of the building.
John stared at Kronos for a moment before nodding. “I think that should take care of the warm-up.”
Kronos stopped and arched a brow at John. After a few seconds, Kronos broke his gaze and chuckled.
“I agree.”
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Her march through Canterlot went unopposed, not a single trace of resistance as she made her way towards the castle. Norma wondered, was this from sheer luck, or was this a sign of things to come? But in truth, she only came to one logical conclusion: she was being purposely avoided. Of course, it’s not like any simple pawn could topple her, a queen standing at the very top of the board. Of course none would attempt to stand against her, and yet, she felt there was more to it.
But whatever the reason, whatever the plan, it didn’t matter to her. Norma had finally reached the castle and was staring at the large double doors: the entrance to the castle, the entrance to her castle. With a flare of her magic, the doors opened and Norma began to walk inside. The castle was void of any protection, all its guards stationed outside, no doubt.
Norma didn’t come here looking for guards, though. What she wanted was much higher on the packing order. That was the two rulers of Equestria, and to Norma, the only beings in this country who could stand against her. They were in here, waiting for her to arrive so that they could end this once and for all. And Norma was more than happy to comply with that desire. She wanted to claim her throne as soon as possible. That still begged the question: just where in this castle would her opponents be waiting for her?
“What’s this?” as though anticipation her question, the castle itself seemed to prepare a response. Torches placed along the walls began to light one after another, something Norma quickly realized was a guide. Norma followed the trail as each torch lit, taking her deeper into the castle. It wasn’t far; to her guess, somewhere in the middle of the castle. The last two torches lit and the rest died out, signaling Norma had reached her destination.
Finally, Norma reached out towards the door and opened them, revealing the room on the other side. It was far larger than she expected, and from the looks of it had seen its fair share of combat recently. But what was more eye-catching were the two beings standing on the very edge of the room. Princesses Celestia and Luna, both standing side-by-side and sporting armor not seen for over a thousand years.
“Para Norma, I presume?” Having been away since the gates had been opened, this was the first time Luna had laid eyes on who started the game.
“I see you’ve finally chosen to join us,” Norma said to the younger sister, “You’ve spent so long on the sidelines that I must admit, I’d forgotten you ever existed.” No doubt, a nerve was touched, but Luna did not allow herself to show it. Norma walked deeper into the room, the tension building between her and the two princesses growing with every second.
“It ends here, Norma,” said Celestia, “The pain, the suffering, and this game. We intend to put a stop to it here and now.”
A spark could be seen flying, a sort of magical feedback caused by the opposing magical forces standing in the single room. Norma knew full well why they were princesses, but still had no worries.
“I already took care of your little pet, something the two of you couldn’t manage alone. Do you still believe yourself capable of defeating me?”
The answer was swift; so fast, in fact, that Norma almost lost an eye avoiding it. It was nothing large, nor flashy, but a simple laser fired at her at a great speed. The impact zone of the floor behind her was smoldering from the head behind it. It was no more than a warning shot, but it could have been much more.
Norma looked at Celestia again, her horn smoking from the laser she had just fired. Neither she nor Luna seemed phased at all that Discord had been defeated. Norma concluded rather quickly that they still believed that they could win. And they were prepared to prove it.
“Well then, it seems we’re about to find out.”
Celestia was the first to charge, her horn flaring with magic as she drew closer. Again, she fired a laser, though one of a larger scale this time around. Norma anticipated it and rolled out of the way just in time, and in her hand she focused her magic. From it, her magic extended like a while, one she used to snap towards Celestia. The magic whip soared and grabbed around Celestia’s arm.
Once she had a hold of her, Norma forced more magic into the whip, a trail of violently sparking magic beginning to flow through it. Celestia wasn’t sure what would happen had it reached her, but she didn’t have to find out. When the sparks were halfway to her, Luna leapt down, slicing through the whip with the axe in her hands and freeing Celestia from its hold. Luna then charged towards Norma, swinging the axe overhead before bringing it down with great force.
Norma focused her magic quickly and brought her hands up, producing a shield with her magic just in time. Luna’s axe made contact with the shield, the force beneath it causing the floor at Norma’s feet to crater in and the shield to crack severely. As she pushed against Luna’s weapon, Norma noticed movement from the side. Celestia was closing in to air in the attack, but Norma wouldn’t have it.
Dispelling the shield, Norma quickly grabbed hold of Luna’s axe, red runes appearing around her hands, and soon the blade itself. Seeing this, Luna hopped back, releasing her weapon. The axe soon began to glow, and Norma turned her attention to Celestia. Then, she threw the axe in a spiral towards her. Celestia dodged the axe with little trouble, but soon noticed what the spell did.
Next thing Celestia saw, the axe was starting to follow her movements, homing in on her no doubt due to the spell on it. Celestia scowled at this and quickly landed on the floor, her eyes locked on the still spinning axe. She waiting until it was close enough and just before impact, she managed to grab its handle. This was followed by a flare of magic which spread around the axe and burned away the runes placed on it.
For her part, Norma was surprised. Overloading her runes was no simple feat, and yet Celestia was able to do so casually.
Unlike Discord, these two won’t fall for simple tricks… Norma thought to herself. There was no telling what else they could do. However, the same could be said for her. After having to sit and wait for so long she could finally stretch her legs, and she had a book’s worth of spells she’d been dying to try out.
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Creatures with wings weren’t that much of an issue for Applejack, if not for one thing: the fact that they loved to dive at her. Applejack let out a grunt as she ducked down, a creature passing centimeters above her head. She looked up at it, the creature seeming to realize it missed. Thus, it turned around, and prepared to do it again.
Applejack, having had enough of this, leaned back, placing her hands firmly against the ground before kicking up, catching the creature in the neck. It stood no chance against her powerful leg, crumbling to dust as it passed over her, broken beyond repair. Applejack stood up, dusting herself off and straightening her shirt a bit.
“These things are gettin’ on my nerves…” Applejack grumbled.
“Applejack, watch out!” This was her cousin Braeburn, who had seen something launching itself at her, something large with one hand raised. Applejack leapt back, turning around as she did, seeing a large creature slamming its hand into the ground where she just was, leaving a hand-sized crater in the road. Worse, it had backup approaching.
“There’s a lot of ‘em!” shouted another of her family members, “How do we deal with that?”
“Everypony clear!” Pinkie’s voice bellowed through a speaker on her modified train car. As soon as everyone turned to where she was, they could see why: a turret had come out of there, and was pointing right out of the crowd. Needless to say, everypony that was in its path did so, some even covering their ears as the thing blasted a small shell at the group of creatures.
When the shell hit the big one, it exploded—but not in the way it would have were it a tank from our world. Instead of fire and smoke, out came smoke and lots of confetti, enough such that it wrapped around not only the large creature, but in fact a good deal of the creatures that were surrounding it. It coiled around them like a pack of hungry snakes, constricting them. Some of the manikins were cut into by the confetti, crumbling. The less lucky ones were tightly packed together with their brothers.
Needless to say, cleanup was a breeze. The crowd of Apple family members began to move in, using whatever they chose to break the creatures that were left over.
“Gotta hand it to ya, Pinkie,” said Applejack as she moved in to help, “You do know how to build ‘em…”
“I’m just glad Johnny wasn’t around to see it,” said Pinkie, “He might have freaked out again!”
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Though the shape of the creatures had changed, the guards’ morale did not break. Though the dragon had gone off elsewhere to tend to one of the breakouts, their ability to deal with the creatures did not waver. This, in part, was due to the fact they had Rainbow Dash on their side. Or rather, this was what Rainbow Dash chose to believe. She found herself flying around through the air, assisting in keeping the skies clear.
“Pfft,” Rainbow said, casually flying ahead of a few of the creatures with wings, “These things aren’t that much better in the sky!”
With that, she swiftly turned back around, before blitzing forward with all her might, easily cutting between the three of them. The sheer momentum at which she passed between them sent them off-balance, the creatures barely able to keep airborne. While they were stunned, Rainbow turned back around one more time, and landed a series of strong kicks on them, easily sending them to the ground—if the kick didn’t break them, the subsequent fall to the ground did.
Rainbow came to a halt after delivering her kicks, deciding to ascend higher. There were still hundreds of the stone creatures to take down, and even though she had to keep an eye on only one part of the city, there was still a lot of area to cover.
“Let’s see…” Rainbow mumbled, easily able to see a good portion of South Canterlot from her vantage point. She could see the guards, bravely standing against creatures large and small, winged and grounded. She could see the enchanted arrows taking out the creatures, other creatures crumbling from shows of strength…
And flashes of magic ineffectively hitting one of the enemies below.
“What the—“ Rainbow’s gaze soon fixed on the area where she had seen that, and she began moving closer towards it…
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“Watch out, everyone! His armor’s got an enchantment on it!” shouted one of the guards as they faced down something—or rather, someone—that was definitely not just a drone made of stone. He was a flesh-and-blood griffin wearing armor—armor that just so happened to be enchanted to make their spells ineffective.
Storm Claw surveyed the guards for a moment, a knife in each hand. “It seems even the guards have been preparing themselves for this day, but I do wonder how well it’ll pay off for you…”
His wings extended, and he pushed off the ground, one knife stretched out. A pegasus guard barely had any time to react before the knife passed through his side, drawing blood. Another guard, an earth pony, shouted in alarm as the wound opened, but wound up with a knife driven into his shoulder.
A third guard, a unicorn, began to fire off laser spells one after another, hoping to at least get his attention. The shots absorbed uselessly into his armor, protected by red runes, it appeared. Storm Claw turned, apparently aware of his presence, and leapt upward. The unicorn stepped back, Storm Claw leaping up and flying about.
“So fast…!” mumbled the unicorn, taking a few steps back to try to get a fix on his position. Storm Claw landed behind him, one knife drawn, ready to stab…
“Heads up!”
At the sound of the voice, the unicorn ducked, and Storm Claw looked up... only to feel the force of a double-kick right into his chest. Storm Claw coughed, caught off-guard by the sudden attack. He fell backwards, but didn’t need to sit up to see who it was. It was a pegasus pony with a blue coat and a rainbow mane.
“So you’re Rainbow Dash…” Storm Claw said, “The fastest flier in Equestria?”
“And you’re that griffin that Twilight fought while I was out cold!” Rainbow said.
“Indeed,” Storm Claw said, “I suppose she’s elsewhere…”
As the guards Storm Claw attacked began to gather themselves, they all turned to Rainbow.
“Miss Dash, what will you have us do?”
“Leave this one to me, boys,” said Rainbow, waving them off, “You guys do what you gotta do.”
“Are you sur—“
“Yeah, I’m sure, now go!” Rainbow barked. The guards gathered themselves, the ones Storm Claw had injured a bit slower than the one that wasn’t. At this, Storm Claw chuckled, finally getting to his feet.
“You’re just as brazen as you’ve ever been since this game started…” Storm Claw said,, “But I wonder, are you able to keep up with me?”
With that, Storm Claw rushed forward again, left hand extended with a blade out. Rainbow stepped to his right. Storm Claw slowed to a halt as he prepared his right hand for a cut. Rainbow, however, grasped his wrist hard with one hand. Her other hand curled into a fist, Rainbow punched out at him, only to have her hand caught by his now-knifeless left hand. Before he could capitalize on her dropped guard, Rainbow flared out her wings, allowing her body to twist so that she could nail Storm Claw across the beak with a kick.
Storm Claw released his grip and Rainbow released hers, Storm Claw staggering back a few steps. He didn’t fall, however, merely turning back to Rainbow and adjusting his beak.
“Not bad,” said Storm Claw, “But I’m just getting warmed up. This will be a fine battle indeed…”
--------------------------------------
Corey, glowing with magic yet again, rushed at Slayer, who was still trying to slow him down with tendrils. He wove through the attacks, fists clenched. Despite Slayer’s best efforts, Corey made it in close, dodging Slayer’s slash and countering with another strong punch to the head. Slayer quickly recovered from this, jabbing his tendrils into the ground for leverage. Propelling himself forward, he slashed with both claws, but Corey leapt up, kicking Slayer square in the center of his back.
Slayer staggered forward from the hit, but once again stopped himself with tendrils, growling as he wrapped them around Corey’s ankle. Without any means to get leverage, Corey was whirled through the air by his leg, eventually being tossed through the air. Dazed, Corey hit the building back first, knocking the wind out of him.
Hearing Slayer scream in hatred was enough to get him to shake it off, though, and Corey jumped to his left, several tendrils impaling the wall where he was. Corey didn’t get off unscathed, however; the hot, tearing pain of yet another cut, this time on the outer part of his thigh, reminded him of that.
Corey looked up again, seeing the monstrous form of Slayer drawing close—he was using his tendrils to rocket over to him, both clawed hands extended. Reactivating his two spells again, his muscles bulking up and his body glowing, Corey hopped away again, letting Slayer stick his claws in the wall. While Slayer removed the embedded bits of his shroud from the wall, Corey moved in again, slamming Slayer in the ribs with a kick.
Slayer slowly spun around, staggering in a daze. His head swam with so many different thoughts, all of them various statements of disbelief and rage. He couldn’t believe Corey had maintained a solid advantage through this whole encounter.
As the next three punches came, Slayer’s mind registered the very real possibility of an impending loss. It didn’t matter whether Corey killed him or not; the mere fact that Corey had pushed him so far and still had the edge was maddening—
Corey’s body stopped glowing, but his muscles remained expanded. At regular speed, he lurched forward, Slayer coughing as that infernal spell sent him rocketing backwards with immense energy, actually causing him to slam clear through the wall of a building at the end of the road, the wall crumbling to rubble and dust coming out of the wall.
Corey took in a deep breath, letting his strength return to normal, his muscles contracted. He stretched his right arm, not feeling the numbness or the pain that came from the last time he had bolstered his strength and delivered an impact. He looked ahead at the path Slayer had taken, and let out a small groan, shaking his head.
“I’m probably gonna owe a few ponies an apology here for what happened to these buildings,” Corey said, “Still, to think I can use my arm after using the two spells together...I really have come a long way.”
Runes appearing around the wounds he’d incurred yet again, Corey healing himself, Corey began to walk forward.
“So, now do you see the difference between then and now?” Corey asked, loud enough. Slayer didn’t respond, not even with a loud scream. In fact, the distant dust was the only thing he could see still—a figure was moving within it, and judging from the sense he was getting, Slayer was definitely still conscious—still alive.
“End of the line, Slayer!” Corey shouted, his body glowing green once again as his muscles expanded. He began to run towards Slayer. One more good shot like that and Slayer would have to be down for the count—
As Corey got close enough, he stopped his attack short. Slayer, at least physically wasn’t there. No… Twilight!?
His mental lapse was rewarded with a hard punch smacking him square in the torso, lifting him off his feet. Corey cursed as the wind was knocked out of him. That little trick had caused him to drop his guard.
Dammit… I should have realized my sixth sense wasn’t lying…
Slayer—having discarded his shroud for one more costume change, stepped forward. He looked just like Twilight, dressed exactly as she had been the last Slayer had saw of her. He smirked at Corey’s hesitation, no doubt believing that his ruse had worked entirely.
Corey paused, his muscles aching for movement. His mind, however, was on another thing. If he could take Slayer’s trick, whatever it was he was going to do, given he wasn’t attacking him yet, then he could close the door on the chapter of his life he’d wanted to close for a long while.
Slayer sneered. “Quite the convincing image, isn’t it? So much so that even you couldn’t bring yourself to harm it. I understand it very clearly, what you have for her. Your feelings—no, that doesn’t do it justice. Your love for her runs so deep you believe you’ve made some strides towards not only defeating me, but conquering your inner demons. But I’m sure that much like this visage you see before you, it’s just an illusion…”
Notably, Slayer didn’t bother to disguise his voice completely, his voice coming out as a mixture between his and Twilight’s. As Corey watched, the image of Twilight grinned, and a moment later, blue sparks appeared over Twilight’s eye—a bruise soon appearing over it. Corey’s eyes widened slightly, but Slayer noticed right away, and the sneer grew wider.
“When you defeated me, I was left very close to death. It’s fate that I’m even here now in front of you,” As Slayer continued to go on, Corey felt a rising feeling of heat within him grow as the image of Twilight began to disfigure in ways very reminiscent of the images Slayer lovingly painted in his diary of decadence.
“But you see, all that time spent healing and waiting for today gave me all the more time to plan out what I was going to do once I got a hold of her and took care of you. The appropriate sculpting will take quite a while, and the cutting may be very…intricate. But that’s not all… I think there’s something else that I can do to enhance the process…”
Against himself, Corey felt his face twist into anger, heat threatening to burst from his chest. He understood very well what Slayer was getting at. Opposite him, within the badly disfigured suit, Slayer smiled maniacally.