A Circle Has No End: Volume I

by Gladi Writes

Ballad of Wildcard IV

Malgavian took flight into the cold night sky as a blizzard raged in the valley below, and the moonlight from the cloudless sky far above Canterlot reflected off it. It almost looked like an ocean of grey water, sparkling in the moonlight, and was rather beautiful.

Beauty could wait however. A few hundred more armoured thestrals flew around him, their armour quite-purposefully not glinting in the moonlight. Infact that armour was as devoid of shine as the sky itself, save for a few glitters here and there. It served its purpose, and they could fly mere metres over a pony without them noticing. If you have ever felt an odd breeze on your back on a dark night...

Malgavian grinned, and took in a deep breath of the crisp nights air. It was cold, dreadfully so, possibly even lethally so, but that same armour would keep them just warm enough to live. No energy wasted on comfort, but they could brave a hostile environment such as the ice of winter, or the lava fields of the dragon nests, and come out unscathed- by the elements anyway.

They flew up into the sky, and together paused high over Canterlot in simple appreciation of the full moon that watched over them. They all sang a soft prayer to it, the words to which had long lost any meaning, before continuing on. It was Malgavian's idea to do so. He would rebuild the Night Guard by returning the thestrals to their roots. He would bring them back, for their future.

Their prayer complete, they spread out and flew south like a dagger in the night, silently speeding toward the back of their enemies. Malgavian looked around as they went, always paying careful attention to his surroundings. A thestral could see as well in night as in day, and could even use echolocation in absolute darkness. Tonight that wasn't needed, and the thin moonlight was enough to see the world below. Dozens of Legion outposts, the tired observers blind to what was happening above, flew past below. Appleloosa approached them, and he took a good look while they flew over. The town had been abandoned a while ago when weather control had been torn away from it, and the sands of the south desert, once exiled by magic, quickly returned to where they had been. All that remained of a once proud orchard was the sticks that were the remains of dead trees, and most of the buildings in the town itself had already collapsed. Sand covered it all, and within months there wouldn't even be that scant evidence that ponies had ever been there.

The desert below, like rest of the world, was returning to natural order. To Malgavian, it was only a sign of a much larger problem. With the power of the Princesses waning, he had to secure his people a future without them, one where they couldn't rely on the motherly Princess of the Night to look out for them. They had to prove to the Equestrians why they deserved to be given watch over the night, a task that had been harried by the treason of that great institutions former commander. The sand was coming in, but Malgavian still saw hope. A great many didn't, and had quit the Night Guard to take civil positions. Even they came tonight, as the call to honour spoke to something deep within the Thestral mind. Tonight they would be as their ancestors were, tonight they would be the silent force for justice; untold in the great myths, but with feats of bravery passed from word of mouth as if legendary. Tonight he would show them who they were, and then they could show the Equestrians.

If they failed, then it would be the end of the legends. It would be a more fitting death than had been decreed by the politicians in Canterlot, who sought to destroy the Thestral race by disarming and deconstructing the Night Guard. What they didn't understand is that the Night Guard /was/ the Thestral Race. If the Night Guard was to die, then the Thestrals would die with it. It was only fitting. So tonight that would be decided. Either they would emerge heroic victors, or they would die valiantly in battle. Either way, they would be honoured tomorrow.

When the changeling hive finally came into view on the horizon- rather obvious with the beams of spotlights waving into the sky in some vain attempt to secure it, the dagger formation of thestrals shifted, and squadrons of ten formed out of it. They knew their objectives, and each would independently pursue them.

The Changeling Hive looked like an impressive defensive bulwark, with fifty-meter stone walls outside the main building complex, and four gigantic flak-towers on each corner. The circular towers were topped with guns large enough to be visible from far away, and holes alongside the walls hide even more weaponry. Spotlights on top pierced the sky, alert for any obvious intruders. On the ground, and inside the courtyard, more lights highlighted dozens of changeling flags. The courtyard itself was full of tents, tents which Malgavian knew had housed a few hundred refugees. The loyal changelings would have arrived earlier, and sent them home. At the far end of that courtyard, the fortress itself was dark, and invisible to the untrained eye in the moonlight.

He could see it though, and as two of his best- Helm and Carina- took his flanks, he flew directly towards it.

Carina swooped over him, and flew up to speak, "So this is it? The final hurrah? We're not going back home, are we?"

Malgavian spared her a glance, "No. Our mission is to attack the fortress head on, to divert the changelings and confuse their response. There will be no going back, no withdrawing, and no support. Our forces need as much time as they can get."

Helm cocked his gun on his side for effect. He had personally modified one of the automatic rifles, adding a bayonet that was more like a sword- the sharp steel ran along the entire bottom of the weapon, making it a rather deadly blunt instrument if used that way.

"Dying in glorious combat with evil monsters, it's what I always wanted. Father would be proud," he said.

Carina had been more practical, and simply took a barrel off one of the 12.7 Wonderbolt guns. It was still heavy, but she could wield it well, and a backpack full of ammunition fed into it.

Malgavian had forsaken anything modern, and took with him Dusk's own sword. He wore her armour as well, and could feel her blood in his veins. She had stood up to Sombra, and defeated him in single combat so badly that he was forced to abandon his physical form. If Malgavian could do half as much damage to Chrysalis, he would die happy.

He took another deep breath, and then unsheathed that sword from his back. The trio swooped over the walls of the Changeling Hive with their weapons at hoof, and flew directly for a pair of changeling sentries visible near the giant wooden doors of the fortress. Malgavian tackled the first from the air, and impaled him on his sword using the velocity. Helm and Carina made short work of the other, a combination of 12.7 to the head, and a slash to the chest, dropped him like a sack of apples.

Before they could breathe, an alarm pierced the air and they were bathed in the incredible light of several spotlights. Green eyes stared at them from all around, and ran at them without pause. Carina and Helm started shooting, halting the changeling charge for the moment.

"Go inside, we'll hold them here!" Carina shouted.

Malgavian didn't need to be told twice, and with a wordless gesture of thanks, he pulled open the huge wooden door, and ran into the fortress lobby. Two changelings dove at him, but were far too slow for his skill. He leaped forward into the air, and spun with his sword, slashing downwards in a spiral forwards, cutting the two surprised guards at their necks.

Without pause, he galloped down the hall, and ran into a tall open space. He took wing from here, and shot straight up towards the highest level of the fortress, while guards desperately tried to shoot the nearly spectral form. One of the shots managed to connect, and Malgavian grunted with pain as he felt a stinging sensation on his side.

A quick glance at his armour proved the wound superficial. Perhaps a problem an hour from now, but he had no hopes of living that long. Finally at the top of the chamber, he shot into the only doorway leading out, and was then forced to gallop on hoof since the hallway was so tight. A surprised guard at the end, a dozen metres away, fired a quick shot with his rifle. It would be the only shot he would manage, as Malgavian threw the sword with deadly precision, and stabbed the changeling between his green eyes. The speeding thestral quickly caught up, and pulled his blade out of the changelings cranium. The creature thumped to the floor, and Malgavian looked onward to see two more. These two had blue eyes, and armour. They watched him with calculating eyes, and left their arms holstered.

"You have no chance," one of them said, "there are too many of us, and the Queen is strong. You will die unless you give up."

Malgavian slowly trotted forward, sword in hoof. "I plan on it, changeling. Do you know what your queen has done? Do you have any idea the sort of monster that hides behind that door?" he said, and pointed the sword towards the door they guarded.

"She does what is best for us," the changeling said, and then they both drew their guns.

"Now st-"

Malgavian charged, and the changelings clearly hadn't expected him to. They took two quick shots before forced to dive out of the way as he leaped at them, and slashed forward with his sword. He missed, and his sword clanged against the stone wall. The changelings were quick to recover, and rolled over to shoot from the floor. He leaped to the side, and hit the wall hard enough to knock the breath out of him for the moment, but dodged their shots. Then he dove forward, and slashed at the terrified blue eyes of one of the changelings, while the other ran down the hallway.

When Malgavian looked up, covered in green blood from his most recent enemy, he found the other changeling had some support, 3 of the green eyed ones stood behind him, and fired their weapons.

Malgavian was hit twice, and his arm became numb. He quickly picked up the sword with his other, and forced himself against the door. Naturally, it was locked.

So he pulled the cord on the explosive satchel on his back, and ran down the hallway as fast as his injured hooves could take him. Breathing was hard now, and before he rounded the corner another bullet hit his leg, splashing the black stone wall with red blood.

He dove down, and cowered for the expected explosion. Instead, silence. He raised his head in confusion, and heard the door creak open. a tall figure strode out, and Malgavian suddenly felt some great force crushing him. His limbs became useless, and the air was forced out of his lungs. All he could see were two thin holed-legs trotting slowly towards him.

The figure stopped before him, and forcibly rolled him over. His breath came in shallow gasps as his wound continued bleeding, and his vision began to fade. He could tell crystal-clear who was standing over him though: Chrysalis.

"Fool," she said, in her odd insect accent, "I am your superior, did you really think you could hurt me? I am a god, and you are but an ant," she sneered, and placed a heavy hoof on his chest.

She looked back, and another figure, trotted into view. He held an almost-comically large hoof-cannon that seemed almost as big as he was, pointed straight at Malgavian. While Chrysalis' eyes seemed like almost pure evil, as if they radiated hatred of everything, his seemed purely apathetic. He looked for all the world like a machine doing its best to prove it had a soul.

Malgavian tried to say something, but could only vomit blood. His vision faded to black, and he released himself to the void.

"Oh, I'm not going to let you go that easy..." a feminine voice sneered, and he felt himself pulled back into a dark nothing.

-----

While Malgavian burst into the changeling fortress, Carina and Helm held their ground, back to back. Changelings approached from all directions, abandoning their useless guns- the armour the pair wore was shrugging aside the rare round that hit them- and charging with their rifles held like clubs. Carina's gun blazed forward, lighting herself up with the fire from it's gun, and filling her nostrils with the smell of war. It thrilled her to her core, and she yelled a war cry and snarled at the charging horde as she cut them down by the handful. Even despite their losses, they continued charging over their fallen, ignoring them in their one-minded attack.

Helm held his own ground, firing his assault rifle in accurate bursts. He quickly ran out of ammunition though, and held it aloft to defend himself.

Carina glanced back at him, and noticed the belt feeding from her saddlebag was nearing the end.

When it did, there was silence, and darkness. The only sound was the repetitive screech of the siren that had become like white noise, and the only light was the spotlight on them. The two could only watch as a hundred green eyes slowly moved up on them, and dozens more looked down from the air. While those eyes were blind to it, Carina and Helm saw their ruse had worked, as swarms of thestrals were quickly flying into the flak towers, and flash's of gunfire from within followed.

Carina's hoof shot to her back, and she gripped a dangling ripcord.

"Helm..."

"Yeah?"

"It's been an honour."

Carina pulled the cord, and closed her eyes. The changelings had no idea what was to come as they approached.

Nothing happened.

"It's a dud?!" Carina exclaimed, opening her eyes just before being hit by a pole arm and fading to black.

----

Even without their leader, the thestrals did what they had set out to do, and flew off silently back into the night with their tasks complete. The explosives they had set were timed to go off a few minutes after, and a few others scattered around were delayed for hours to deny the Changelings any sleep.

Indeed, they would sleep forever.

Unbeknownst to them, Princess Luna had watched this all from high above. She was, perhaps, the only person that could elude a thestral at night, and had done so on this night to see her children of the night at their best. While others feared the thestrals, she loved them. She had never had a foal herself, instead it was these once-mythical ponies that she had taken under her wing. Like any child however, they were not perfect, but even so- she forgave. To see them riding to do such just work, knowing they would have no hope of rescue, or heroic return, bouyed her heart. If there was no place for them in the new world order, then that was the worlds own loss.

She flew off amongst them, just another black figure in the night, and searched for their leader and his two companions.

When she didn't find him, she dropped out of the air, and looked back to the blazing changeling hive in the distance.

Somehow, she knew he wasn't dead. There were ways to check, using magic, but even without that she could feel it deep inside. Malgavian was alive, and if the thestrals were to have any hope, it was under his leadership.

Perhaps, she thought, he was a worthy mate before her departure from this world. Perhaps, perhaps not. In any case, she would have to rescue him. Both for the thestral people, and for herself. There was something there, something in his soul that called out to her. She wanted to know what it was.

He was a better match than Flankenstein at any rate, and the clock was ticking.

-----------------------

When morning came, Shining Armour stood outside the command tent. They had re-located to Appleloosa earlier under the cover of darkness, and set up a command and control position, along with a defensive trench should it come to that. The town itself was, sadly, a total ruin. Totally run over by sand, and strategically useless. The weather today was, as expected when starting any battle, terrible. A cold wind blew from the north and kicked up sand obscuring their vision, slowing them down markedly.

Before he could sip at the steaming mug of tea before him, a gust of wind blasted some sand at him, and got a good handful in his tea. Shining rolled his eyes, and dumped it out before ducking back inside the command tent. Inside a few signallers prepared the radios, and a few officers had their breakfast.

"Hell of a start to the day," he groaned, and refilled his cup.

"You don't know the half of it," Sandstorm said, sitting at a table before two standard rations.

Shining sat down across from him, and shifted one over to himself. He grinned as the large stallion flinched with displeasure, "Please, enlighten me."

Sandstorm picked up a salt shaker, and sprinkled it over his eggs. "It's the sand. Armour, the damn sand has disabled half my tanks, it's gotten in everything. The other half are only working because the factory covers were still on them."

Shining rubbed his temple, "So we're down to half strength for tanks?" he asked.

Sandstorm nodded.

"Do you have any idea how ironic your name is?"

Sandstorm nodded.

Shining sighed, "Fine, the tanks were only brought along for insurance anyway, it'll be more an infantry battle than anything. You do what you can and, for Celestia's sake, clear up the other ones and get covers on them." Shining ordered.

Sandstorm nodded again, and went back to eating his meal. Shining was rather famished himself, and took his fill as well. Soon they would move out, but first they were waiting for a signal that the refugees had been sent home safely They should have received it last night, and set out this morning, but they still hadn't. They hadn't heard anything actually, not from home or the Changeling vanguard.

Ten thousand ponies, fifty tanks, and fifty Wonderbolts awaited that signal. He finally named this operation as well, and they were all eager to get started.

Operation Bugspray

-----------------------

Spitfire paced the bridge of the Ace in the Hole high above, waiting for the same signal Shining Armour was. She paced because her seat was occupied by a blue pegasus mare, who stared outside as if looking for divine inspiration from the swirling grey clouds.

A sound, like tapping, came from the radio. The mare listening there quickly jotted down a message, and spun around to deliver it.

"Report from Vanhoover ma'am, scouts are reporting an odd naval buildup outside the city. No flags."

Spitfire halted, totally not expecting such information.

"No flags? Tell them to inspect this closer, it could just be Zebras moving south," First Class said, sniping Spitfire's own response.

She would have said the same thing, but she still frowned and swallowed some anger at it. That was her job!

"Yes ma'am" the signaler said, and clacked out the response.

Spitfire returned to her pacing, and First Class returned to her staring.

"It's almost 0800, shouldn't we have the signal by now?" one of the bridge crew, a nameless cadet, wondered.

"We should, but nothing ever goes right in war," Spitfire noted.

First Class sighed, and tapped the armrest of her chair.

"Signal Shining Armour, order him to move out," she said.

Spitfire halted again, "We haven't received the signal yet, what if the refugees are still in the hive!?" she questioned.

First Class calmly turned her seat around, and looked down on Spitfire.

"Then my husband is dead, and I will raze the entire hive to the ground on my own orders. Chrysalis must be stopped, they are casualties of war," she responded.

Spitfire had no real response, and just incredulously starred up at the mare, who quickly turned and faced the signaller.

"Send. The. Order." she demanded.

The operator swallowed, and nodded. She tapped out the message quickly, "done, ma'am."

"Good," First Class said, and turned back to face the window.

"Ahead slow, I want us to arrive about an hour before the land forces so we can line up targets, and destroy any large formations. Launch the Wonderbolt wing and have them screen at two kilometres ahead, they are to report any enemies- but not to engage unless ordered. Am I understood?"

"Yes ma'am," they all, including Spitfire, said. Spitfire felt something that she never had before when she heard those words delivered so powerfully, to her, as an order.

She was terrified. First Class knew what she wanted, and no amount of blood or fire could stop her. The mare would destroy the world if it meant getting her way.

And she was in charge.

------------------------------------------

Shining Armour choked on a mouthful of eggs, as a private delivered the message behind him.

"Whaff?"

The private took a breath, and repeated, "We are ordered to depart immediately."

Shining looked at Sandstorm, who had somehow found another ration.

He just shrugged, and wiped some crumbs off himself before standing, "Maybe they got the signal otherwise. I'll get my tanks moving." he said, and smartly fitted his cap to his head.

Shining got up too, and pushed past the private out into the cold air outside. All around him thousands of soldiers loitered and tried to burn time, and he took a deep breath to call them all to action.

"Attention! You've got your orders, it's time to move out! Full combat load, you all know your formations and units!" He shouted, and the ponies around him leapt into action as he strode forward.

"Check your guns and make sure you keep the damn sand out, you aren't going to live to regret it later!" he added, "Now get moving!"

Move they did. The largest single collection of arms Equestria had ever fielded, bouyed by their best Wonderbolts above, and protype armour amongst them. Ten thousand ponies, all eager to fight for Equestria, and show the bugs who was in charge around here. Even with such massive force, Shining was still concerned. If there was any enemy that was likely to have something up its sleeve, it was the changelings. If Chrysalis had gotten word to the southern armies of the Griffons, then they could be sending reinforcements. Laying siege to the Hive, and then being attacked by a Griffonic force, was a terrifying prospect. They would be forced to flee, and would lose anything they had gained.

Shining Armour waited in the command tent, in the now abandoned staging area, with a handful of signallers keeping tabs on things. He yearned to be at the front, but knew that was impossible. The calculus of war was simple in its apathy: he was simply worth more than they were, too much to risk losing. It used to be that the commander was also the most trained, and would be the most protected in their armour. Now a stray bullet could easily knock off whoever was leading things, and then the entire army would collapse.

He /hated/ that. Every minute he stayed here, while his men fought and died out there, he felt guilty. A guilt he would bear forever, his sacrifice to keep Equestria safe.

-------------------

Wildcard paced in the train as it rumbled slowly down the line. Any minute now they would reach the border, and the loyalty of those with him would be tested for the first time. Changelings guarded that border, and they would have to be killed so as no warning could be sent back home.

The train stopped, and Wildcard stopped as well. He held his breath as he heard muffled speaking outside.

Then he heard a series of gunshots, followed by silence. The blinds had been drawn for secrecy, and he wished he could see what was going on.

Hoofsteps outside approached, and Wildcard thumbed his pistol, while the others hefted their own weapons. For a moment, it seemed like all time paused.

If they were against him, a shot to the back of the head would end his coup before it really even started.. There was no way to be totally sure, and the next seconds would prove it. What if Silver Shield had planned this all to knock him off and prove allegience to Chrysalis? What if one of those elites was a traitor? What if she had somehow known, and his own men were already dead? Who would open that door, friend or foe?

*BANG*

The door slammed open, blown in by the wind, and Wildcard gasped with anxious surprise at the loud bang. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and a green-eyed changeling leaned in.

"The border is secure."

Wildcard released his breath, and flopped against the side of the train-car as the train itself rumbled back into motion. He gasped for breath, and wiped the sweat from his brow. Pulling off coups added years to ones life, he realized.

Silver noticed Wildcard's relief, and laughed, "did you really doubt us?"

Wildcard lulled his head to the side to face him, "of course I did, doubting everything is what I do."

"Well..." Silver said, and glanced at the two changelings beside him. Almost imperceptibly, they nodded, and looked back to Wildcard.

"... you were right," Silver finished, and raised his rifle.

Wildcard's eyes grew wide with surprise, and he scrambled up with his gun drawn. He fired immediately, but found he had been given blanks. Horrified, he stared at Silver Shield. His face seemed suddenly evil, sneering at him while the useless smoke drifted up from Wildcard's gun.

To his surprise, while he stood in shock, Silver just laughed along with the two changelings beside him. He was quickly forced to the floor, rolling around laughing and gasping for air.

"Wildcard..." he gasped.

"...that was..."

"...too good!"

Wildcard tried to strangle him with sheer force of will alone, and was somewhat surprised to see Silver reach for his throat.

"Hey..." Silver stammered "... that's a cliche!"

Wildcard laughed himself, and released Silver from his magical clutches.

The remainder of their travelling went by without any major incident, but Wildcard's anxiety made the few hours seem to stretch into days. All manners of horrible visions danced in his mind as he sat, checking and re-checking his gun. Medulla would be there, as would Chrysalis and an army of still-loyal changeling. All of this he would have to beat to save his daughter. He sighed, and let his mind settle on that for a few moments. He was going to war not for the vain glory of an evil Queen, not this time. He was going to fight to save his daughter, and his people, from her clutches.

The belt under his uniform reminded him that there was truly no possibility for failure. It was somewhat relieving to feel the explosives there, and to know that even if he failed mortally, his force would carry out his victory and ensure that Chrysalis never again harmed another pony.

Wildcard allowed himself to think, and pondered on why Chrysalis had chosen now. Why not wait until the foal was older, why now? She was most open to attack now, and it seemed absurd that she would be stupid enough to call down the wrath of Equestria just as it was at the height of military power. If she had waited a few weeks, Wildcard would probably be pressed into surface over the ocean. She's waited hundreds of years for her supposed return to Equestria, why rush things now?

The pieces didn't fit. It was like he had two separate puzzles, but neither was complete. Perhaps he would find the answer when he arrived back home. It seemed almost like a third party had to be acting somewhere, but who, and for who?

The train clunked to a stop just as Wildcard was lining up leads. This had all been planned already, and he stepped out of the traincar disguised as a destitute Equestrian. They all were, and hundreds of malnourished looking ponies converged on the dozen or so changelings guarding the train depot amongst towering crates of military equipment. Tracks in the slushy snow made a path away from the train itself to a gate in the metal fence surrounding the depot, and one by one they were all checked by a bored looking Changeling sentry. He did little more than a quick look-over of them, they had no reason to suspect anything from these ponies. Even if they did, this sloppy guard was unlikely to notice or care if they brought alicornium under their coats.

So Wildcard marched on within the line of his comrades, invisible in the crowd. They all went towards the market stalls and shanty-houses in the centre of the fortress courtyard. Wildcard couldn't help but shudder as the giant black buildings surrounding the courtyard seemed to loom up and look down at him, alongside the hundreds of changelings going about their business all around. If his cover was blown, or any of the others, he would be dead in an instant. It was a blessing that Malgavian had come early and made contact with the refugees, they were well aware that they needed to be ready to leave if needed, and advised of the consequences of not doing so.

Wildcard's destination was a tent near the middle of it all, wherein a pony named Frosteye had made his living over the last few months enchanting, and selling, crystal balls. Wildcard threw open the flaps of the tent and entered, seeing the beauty of them for himself. Dozens of crystal orbs, all showing a snowy landscape in miniature; complete with pegasi flying in the slowly drifting snowfall. The pony quickly made him, and coughed to get Wildcard's attention.

"Been a while since we got any 'questrians, what can I do you for?" he asked.

Wildcard quickly made sure it was the right pony. Light coat, unicorn, cutie-mark of a crystal ball... it was all there. He abandoned his disguise and trotted forward, Frosteye only tilting his head at him.

"I think it's time you got a tan, Frosteye. You need more sun in your life," Wildcard said.

Frosteye flopped his head on the table before him, jingling the dozen or so spheres atop it. "Oh finally, I was thinking I would be stuck in this mudpit forever. Sweet Celestia it's going to be nice to get home," he said, and then lifted himself up and started placing his wares in a bag.

"So uh, how's this going to work?" he asked, while Wildcard absent-mindedly gazed into one of the orbs.

"Just go to the train station, if the guard asks any questions, you're from Equestria and you got here this morning. I need you out by noon, and take only what you can carry," Wildcard replied, entranced by the globe.

"Darn, I'll have to leave most of it. I 'spose it's worth it to see sunbutt again though."

Wildcard smirked and turned back, but the pony was gone. Wildcard was left with a tent full of ornaments. He sat behind the desk and continued staring into one, and waited for Silver Shield to deliver his report- hopefully that all was well.

A half hour later Wildcard heard the train whistle, which startled him since it was a full hour early. Not a good sign...

The sound of armoured hoofsteps outside wasn't either, and Wildcard took a deep breath as his hoof went to the gun at his thigh. The hoofsteps halted as he unholstered his gun and held it under the table.

Two changelings entered, and his eyes went wide with horrified surprise as time seemed to stop, and his breath held in his throat.

Chrysalis, covered with thick pointed silver armour, and Medulla. He wore his own set, and one of those heavy-guns the Marines use sticking out from his side.

Wildcard wasted no time, and immediately threw the table over to begin shooting. Chrysalis was too fast though, and the gun was wrenched from his hoof before he could even raise it to face her. In the blink of an eye he was held against the ground, crushed by a huge force on his back.

"Back so soon, Ambassador?" Chrysalis sneered.

Wildcard tried desperately to reach the ripcord at his back that he knew would end it all, but the force was too much.

"He has a bomb on him, my Queen. Thankfully we knew full well his traitorous ambitions, and replaced the explosives with duds long before he got here. There were a few deaths on the border, but our agent came through expertly."

"Agent?!" Wildcard muttered, his face crushed against the muddy floor.

"Didn't it seem odd how much that train driver wanted to go into a warzone? We've had agents in your group since the start. You can't seriously have thought we didn't."

"The Equestrians are still coming, give up now or they'll..."

The force drew back, and then slapped Wildcard's head against the ground.

"Destroy us? Please, they'll do nothing. The pathetic fools will halt and negotiate, and while they waste time- afraid to spill a little blood- my allies in the Griffon Army will arrive. We won, "Wildcard", and you're going to watch," Chrysalis boasted, and lifted him into the air.

Comments

[Salizar65]

And the tension builds... freaking awesome!!!!