The Foals of Harmony: The One Free Stallion

by Rainy Meadows

Episode 1 Chapter 3 - Lowlife

Okay, so where the smeg am I now?

Uh… um…

I appear to be in a bedroom. I have been moved from a wrecked train to a bedroom. Not just that, but the bed I’m on is a double, and Twilight’s lying next to me, still out cold.

We’re naked.

Well, technically not, since ponies don’t normally wear clothes since we’re ponies and all, but whoever retrieved us removed Twilight’s jacket and my HEV suit. They’re over there, in the corner, next to one of the boarded up windows which are only just letting in enough light to see by.

Is than an ensuite bathroom? With a shower?! It-it is! I never thought I’d be so glad to see a shower in all my life!

I left the bed – carefully, so as not to wake up Twilight – and quietly made my way over to the bathroom. After closing the door behind me I stepped into the shower, but had to refrain from leaping back when I turned the tap on because the water was cold.

Oh well, it’s better than nothing.

Ah, smeg, that feels good. Nothing like a cold shower to wake you up. And wash away the accumulated dust, grime and dried blood which have all gathered on your fur over the past couple of days.

Hey, there’s even a towel available.

When I got out, dried myself and put my glasses back on, I finally did what I should have done the moment I woke up and I started to get suspicious.

Why in the wide world of Equestria where Twilight and I in somepony’s house? Was there anypony else here, and if so, who? Or were we captured by the Combine or Commabies and placed in a complex simulation which looks like a house?

But then again, why would they do that?

Wait a minute…

I smell pastry. I’m not kidding; I actually can smell freshly cooked pastry.

Before I went downstairs though, I leant back with my face under the tap and turned on the faucet.

I’m not thirsty anymore!

I finished drying myself and dumped the towel in the sink – I always do that – and left the bedroom on the tips of my hooves to avoid waking up Twilight. It was only when I reached the stairs that evidence of the world’s current conflict appeared. There were cracks all over the wall, and one of the stairs had been knocked down into the cupboard below. I carefully stepped over it and proceeded downstairs.

It didn’t take me long to find the kitchen, and the two pies which were sitting temptingly on the sideboard. I breathed in the sweet scent of the freshly cooked pastry, combined with the sour tang of apples which danced around my nostrils. It was only then that I realised how incredibly hungry I was.

I grabbed one of the pies, set it on the table, and dug in.

Tell me; is there such a thing as a foodgasm? Because I think that’s what happened when I ate that pie. I hadn’t eaten anything for about seventeen years, and right now this pie was the food of the gods. The melt-in-your-mouth texture of the pastry, the richness and tangy sweet sourness of the apples… it was the most delicious thing I had eaten in a long, long time.

When I had finished I put the tin in the sink (yeah, I do that for lots of stuff) and decided to explore the house a little more.

There was a lounge room, complete with sofa and fireplace, and on the mantelpiece was something which made me double take like no tomorrow.

It was a family photograph. There was a mare, a stallion, a teenage colt and a little filly. And there was no mistaking those big, twinkly eyes, straight stripy mane and adorable smile.

I’m in Twilight’s house.

So that colt in the picture must be Shining Armor. I vaguely remember seeing him in the picture in New TARDIS, and I thought he was rather handsome – no homo: it’s perfectly alright for a guy to think other guys are handsome without being attracted to them – and in the picture he’s giving Twilight a massive hug.

Hang on, there’s something else in the frame.

I pulled it out, and my jaw almost hit the floor as I started to read, even though the writing was severely smudged in places as though the writer was crying, so it was rather hard to make out some of the words.

Twiley,

This is probably going to be a little difficult for you to read – If ever you return to Canterlot and find this letter. Princess Celestia made a public announcement saying that it was thanks to your report that she knew about the Combine, but she didn’t say whether you were still alive or not.

I know you are. You’re my little sister, aren’t you? And they wouldn’t just let anypony be the Princess’ personal student. Me, though…

Mom and Dad are already gone. I should know, because I saw it happen. You’ll be glad to know they didn’t suffer: Dad was shot in the head trying to protect Mom, and she got hit by an energy ball. I tried to protect her – I tried to protect them both – but I failed, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself. I can only hope that you can keep yourself and Spike safe.

What few citizens remaining have been forced to take shelter in the royal palace, and the guards have been called back to protect them. This will be my final hour in the house before I have to leave and see to my troops, so I want to make it worthwhile.

I’ve lost count of how many innocent civilians I’ve already seen gunned down in the streets. The roads have become rivers of blood: a pony can barely walk for stepping on a corpse. Hardly any of the dead are unicorns. I’m assuming that Mom and Dad were among the lucky, because the unicorns are captured and taken to a place which I have no knowledge of, but from what I’ve seen of the Combine already, it can’t be good.

They even got Cadence.

I can hear them in the street outside. They’re right on the other side of the door, and as far as I know everypony else is already at the palace. Her highness said that she would send Luna to collect me if I didn’t arrive within half an hour of the last civilian, so if I don’t make a run for it now I’ll be endangering the life of a princess.

But I can’t leave without telling you how much I love you.

Do you remember when you were still a little filly, and I walked in on you and Cadence, and you – the world famous General Sparkle – were guarding a book fort with Capt. Smarty-pants against the Dark Lord Cadence and her army of My Little Humans? And you cried out in horror because Dark Lord Cadence’s master, the Evil Overload Shiny, had come to join the battle.

I remember it like it was yesterday. You were so adorable, perched atop your mighty fortress of books and pillows, firing marshmallows at your foalsitter, that I couldn’t help but join in. I wanted to spend some time with my wonderful little sister – who wouldn’t when that sister is you?

Another day I’ll never forget is the day you departed for Ponyville. You were so nervous about going someplace you’d never even heard of before, and I couldn’t help but feel for you. I hardly believed Spike when he said it was because you’d been told you had to make friends, but then I found out that as far as you were concerned, I was all you needed when it came to friends.

I have to say… that really touched me, Twilight. It was the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard from you.

And you know what? As far as I was concerned, you were all that mattered.

My only regret is not being with you at this moment. If I was, I promise with all my heart that I would never leave you in a million years. I have to go now, Twiley. Wish me luck.

Your brother loves you. Never forget that.

Your BBBFF,

Shining Armor.

Holy smeg.

That letter’s been in that frame for nearly seventeen years, waiting for Twilight to come and read it. And she never did.

I wonder if he made it.

“Hey, Hex.”

It was Twilight. I had been so engrossed in the letter that I hadn’t noticed her. By the looks of things she had done exactly what I had: take a shower and then come downstairs and have a pie. Her mane was still a bit damp, and she was wiping apple away from her muzzle.

“Hey, Twilight,” I said, lowering the letter.

“What do you have there?” she asked, pointing at the sheet of paper I held before me.

“It’s a letter,” I told her. “It’s addressed to you. I’m sorry I read it.”

“That’s okay,” she said. I passed the letter to her, and waited while she read.

I didn’t want to have to see her face as she read her brother’s final letter to her, so I tried to open the front door. When I did manage to get it open, I found myself face to face with a brick wall.

If this door was bricked up, how did we get in? I don’t think I saw a back door.

Might as well go and put my HEV suit back on.

When I went back upstairs, I noticed something that I hadn’t before: an EXIT sign stuck to the wardrobe door. When I opened it I found that it led outside, with a huge heap of rubble forming a serviceable slope to the ground.

I couldn’t see much of the rest of the city. I was nowhere near high enough. However, I did hear a crow squawking and an explosion somewhere in the distance, so I hurriedly closed the door again before I was seen.

Huh. I could swear somepony cleaned my suit as well. Plus it’s either got bigger or washing off all that muck made me smaller.

I’m gonna go with the second option because it makes more sense – well, a little more.

May as well grab my- Twilight’s jacket while I’m up here. I’m glad she decided to adopt it. Dragon leather would be impossible to make in Equestria – I only brought it with me as a memento, and because it’s indestructible.

Someday I’ll get around to asking Amber exactly how she managed to make a jacket out of the stuff, seeing as you wouldn’t be able to cut it without breaking the scissors.

And how her people used it for armour.

Never mind. I’m thinking too much.

I was still standing holding the jacket when Twilight re-entered, wiping her eyes. I passed her the jacket and she put it on without a word.

“You okay?” I asked.

“I will be,” she said. “I just need some time. Is that our way out?”

She indicated the EXIT wardrobe, and I opened it to reveal Canterlot. I bowed as she passed me, smiling faintly at my silliness, and I followed her once she had reached the bottom of the slope.

“I grew up in that house,” she said as we walked down the street. “I can’t believe how much it’s changed since I’ve been gone. You know, I-I haven’t thought about General Sparkle in years.”

“What about Captain Smarty-pants?” I asked, and she giggled. “And Dark Lord Cadence? Who was Cadence anyway?”

“She was my foalsitter when I was still a little filly,” Twilight explained. “She was everything a foalsitter should be: beautiful, kind, caring… she had the power to spread love wherever she went. With a wave of her horn and two ponies would be head-over-hooves for each other. A couple could be fighting one moment and kissing the next!”

“Huh,” I said. “Call me a smeghead if you like but that sounds like a rather dangerous power.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what if the fighting ponies were brother and sister? Or related in some other fashion, like cousins or even parents? I wouldn’t like to think that your foalsitter was responsible for hundreds of ponies being guilty of incest.”

“I never thought about it that way,” said Twilight. “I guess it is possible, but surely ponies would understand.”

We walked in silence for a couple of minutes. The streets had become eerily quiet and empty, and we had yet to see an Overwatch soldier. Good thing too, because apart from the rings on our horns we’re completely unarmed. I’d have thought whoever left us in Twilight’s house would have been considerate enough to leave us some weaponry too.

Or maybe Canterlot isn’t as dangerous as we’ve been led to believe. I have to admit that I didn’t expect to be shot down the moment I stepped out the door – sometimes it’s dangerous business, going out your door – but still, it wouldn’t hurt to have a little bit of noise, would it?

“Where the smeg is everypony?” I asked. “This is so eldritch.”

“I know!” said Twilight. “From what I heard of this place I expected it to be swarming with Overwatch. But it’s so empty!”

“Maybe we should try looking around the palace,” I said. “Judging by what your brother wrote in that letter there’s got to be somepony there.”

“Good idea,” she replied.

We could easily see the palace from where we were. Once constructed of looming towers of white marble, it was now plated with steel which had a shine much more dull than the stone. It used to be beautiful, but thanks to the Combine it was just another metal monstrosity.

There was an explosion somewhere in the distance, and more cries of crows as we proceeded through the streets. In another part of the city there was gunfire, and it seemed to be getting closer.

Twilight stopped and rubbed her chin with a thoughtful expression.

“I think we should split up,” she said.

“Split up?!” I replied. “But we only just got together!”

“No, no, not like that!” Twilight said. “I meant split up as in go in different directions. It’ll be easier for them to find us if we stick together the whole way, and we’ll have a better chance of staying alive.”

I mulled it over in my head.

“You’re probably right,” I decided.

“Head for Canterlot Tower,” said Twilight as she turned away, “and I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay,” I said, and started moving onward, but added “Which one’s Canterlot Tower?”

“It’s the biggest one!”

Right. Biggest one. Gotcha.

The thing is; splitting up never works out well in horror movies. As far as I can tell, the three rules for surviving a horror movie are these: 1) don’t have sex. Ever. Banging your boyfriend/girlfriend/whatever is the surest way of calling the serial killer to your door. 2) Never drink or do drugs. Chances are you’ll end up stumbling right into the thing that’s trying to kill you, and you won’t have much of a chance of getting away if you’re plastered or coked out of your skull. 3) Never, EVER say “I’ll be right back.” Because you won’t be. And neither will the person you say it to.

Lucky this isn’t a horror movie, huh? Even though it does have quite a lot of elements of one. Well, more like a 50s sci-fi B-movie really. Shall I count the ways? Maybe not, it’d take too long.

I was walking down the street, wondering if anything would actually happen in the next few millennia, when something did happen: a Strider erupted out of the street right behind me. I started running like I had back in City 17, dodging and weaving through the streets, but I could still hear it. It was right behind me!

Suddenly there was a flash. I thought for a moment that the Strider had fired its warp cannon, but then I saw the wreckage falling around me.

I looked around, trying to see where that had come from.

“HELLO?” I shouted. “Is somepony there?”

No answer.

I waited, but there was still no reply, although I think I saw a shadow in a broken window.

“Whoever you are,” I said, “thanks.”

I continued weaving through the streets, getting closer and closer to the palace with every passing second. Canterlot was a lot easier to navigate than City 17, because there was a distinct lack of massive piles of rubble and stuff. Instead there were, true to Shining Armor’s word, a lot of skeletons lying around in the streets which rather than being their usual grey were instead reddish-brown due to dried blood. The roads, that is, not the skeletons.

He really hadn’t been exaggerating when he said the streets were rivers of blood and you could barely move for treading on corpses.

Heh, one of the skeletons is wearing a pair of sunglasses. Funny and tragic at the same time: tragicomedy! But seriously, you have to admit that there’s something strangely hilarious and cool about a skeleton with shades.

I kept moving. The thought of having some kind of guardian angel was definitely an appealing one, but I can look out for myself. Admittedly I’m kinda helpless at the moment, having no weapons other than my horn clip and my normal level telekinesis – well, definitely developed beyond normal now – and I think I could use some help.

Yep, I’m definitely getting close to the tower now. It’s really, really big and now that it’s up close it’s really, really ugly. It must have been a real eye catcher once, but now it’s just an eyesore.

What-what’s this?

It looks like a park, but this close to the palace it’s far more likely to be a garden of some sort. I guess that explains the twisting, turning, half-a-foot-high labyrinth of burnt hedges and the shattered statues.

Hang on, I can hear something.

“Chaos is a wonderful, wonderful thing!”

It’s er, it’s er, it’s… oh smeg, what was his name again? Something chaos related that starts with a D, um… Discord! That’s the one, Discord!

“Not quite as wonderful as friendship!”

And that’s Twilight’s voice. What’s going on?

Hang on, there’s a pedestal over there. Let me just read the sign:

DISCORD

Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony

Do not come within 10 ft

NO SQUABBLING FOALS

So this is where the pedestal is, but where’s the statue?

“Oh, this again!” There was the sound of a drink being slurped away, followed by a small explosion.

I just stood on something.

It’s an eagle’s claw. And there’s a lion paw over there. I’m surrounded by stone animal parts.

“That’s right!” said the voice of Applejack. “You couldn’t keep apart our friendships for long!”

Why am I hearing this? I’m guessing it has something to do with the fact that I’m in close proximity to – that is to say, I’m standing in – the statue of Discord so, erm…

“Oh Applejack, don’t lie to me! I’m the one that made you a liar! Will you ever learn?”

Maybe it’s a sort of black box quick save type thing. You usually find them on a GLaDOS: it records the last couple of minutes of its life for later analysis. They have to relieve those last minutes over and over again.

In this case, Discord was forced to relive getting stoned (Bazinga!) over and over, and now that his statue’s been blasted to pieces it’s audible to everyone.

“I’ll tell you what we’ve learned, Discord! We’ve learned that friendship isn’t always easy, but there’s no doubt it’s worth fighting for!”

Alright, Twilight!

Wait, is that his head? Holy smeg, it is! It’s Discord’s head! It wouldn’t be so creepy if it weren’t still frozen in stone and-and SCREAMING.

“Eeugh, gag! Fine, try to use your precious elements. Friend me! Just make it quick: I’m missing out on some excellent chaos here!”

Still listening to the echo, I started digging into the ground at the foot of the pedestal.

“Alright ladies, let’s show him what friendship can do!”

Hmm. Not quite deep enough.

“Waitwaitwait!” said the echo of Pinkie. There was a gargling noise, followed by a small growl and the sound of something charging up.

“Huh, what’s this?”

The Discord of the past was apparently confused. Meanwhile, the Hex of the present kept digging.

“No… NO!”

And with a rush of sound and a crackling noise, as of flesh, bone and body parts rapidly becoming petrified, the echo ended.

There, I think that’s big enough.

The echo replayed again and again as, piece by piece, I gathered up the shattered statue of Discord and deposited him in the hole. I tried my best to reassemble him, but it wasn’t easy working out which piece went where. It was like a gigantic 3D jigsaw puzzle, but I knew it wouldn’t fit together properly because of the wear and tear of time.

Eventually I finished, and then shoved the dug up earth back over the statue. I picked up what was left over and pressed it onto the sign on the pedestal, and then grabbed a stone and carved two extra words onto it until the end result was this:

Here lies

DISCORD

Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony

Yeah, that seemed to fit.

“Most ponies wouldn’t have taken the time to do that.”

I looked around at the new voice, and saw the dark stallion from the video. He was entering the same way I had and approaching at a slow trot. When he got to the grass he slowed down to a walk.

“That was very honourable,” he said. “You do know what he did to Equestria, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I said, “but it seemed like the right thing to do. Even the most evil of creatures deserves peace.”

“I suppose you’re right,” said the stranger.

His voice was a lot softer than I had expected it to be: I’d thought it’d be a Batman-esque growl and holy smeg this guy is HUGE! It’s probably just the armour, but I think he’s about the same size as Big Macintosh. The horn isn’t helping things either. It’s a lot bigger than any other horn I’ve seen.

Smeg, what a badly worded description.

Also, have I mentioned his eyes? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a blue so vivid. They’re like Soarin’s, only blue. Plus it’s a lot easier to see the colour of his armour, and the mask which is held in place by clips on his collar.

“Are you-” I’m trying to talk without screwing things up, because I have a feeling this guy is very dangerous. “Are you the Blue Demon?”

He closed his eyes, and his mask moved in a way which indicated a smile.

“That’s what the populace of Equestria decided to dub me,” he said, “so yes, I guess I am the Blue Demon.”

He started to walk away, and I followed in his hoofsteps.

“Were you the guy who took down that Strider chasing me?” I asked. “Because I want you to know I’m really grateful.”

“I know.”

I had to trot to keep up. He was a rather fast walker.

“So, um,” I tried to think of something to say. “That’s what happened to Discord, so… do you know what happened to the princesses?”

“Yes.”

Okay, rather brief…

“Take a look.”

He stopped, and so did I.

In front of us were three graves laid in a row. Each roughly carved tombstone was the same size, which surprised me considering whose graves they actually were. The first had a small carving of a sun, and the inscription:

HERE LIES PRINCESS CELESTIA

Benevolent ruler of Equestria

Commander of the sun

The next bore a carving of a crescent moon, and the following epitaph:

HERE LIES PRINCESS LUNA

Benevolent ruler of Equestria

Commander of the moon

The final headstone had a carving of a heart-shaped crystal, and the epitaph was truly heartbreaking in its simplicity:

PRINCESS MI AMORE “CADENCE” CADENZA

Bringer of love

They’re dead. All of them. Dead.

“They’re…” I struggled to get the words out of my mouth.

“Dead,” the Blue Demon finished for me. “All dead. I should know; I buried them all myself. There wasn’t anything anypony could do: nopony could have anticipated the strength of the Combine.”

For the first time, he looked me in the eye, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

“They killed almost everypony in Canterlot in seven minutes flat,” he told me.

“I know,” I said. “I know almost everything about those bastards.”

He was obviously surprised.

“You do?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve encountered the Combine before, although I’ve never had to actively fight them until I got to Equestria. I’ve been to the world where their hold was the strongest a few times – my best friend got a tattoo there.”

The Blue Demon looked away, staring blankly at the graves for a few seconds.

“And I thought I was the only one,” he said. “I’ve been searching all over central Equestria for somepony I lost – I don’t dare go anywhere near the borders because that’s where they’re at their strongest and my powers are rather limited.”

“I’ve heard stories about you,” I said. “The late, not so Great and Powerful Trixie said that you were the scourge of the Combine. Well, until I came along, but you get the point.”

“I wouldn’t call myself the Scourge of the Combine,” said the Blue Demon. “I’m just another pony trying to find somepony he lost all those years ago.”

He bowed his head in remorse. Smeg, I felt so sorry for the guy.

His ears twitched.

“A friend is coming,” he said cryptically. “I must go.”

And with that, the Blue Demon galloped away.

Well, he seemed nice. I wonder who it is that he’s looking for. And what’s with the mask? I admit it looks really badass, but wouldn’t it be rather hard to breathe in that thing?

Then I heard the screaming. It was a deafening, high-pitched battle cry which grew louder and louder as the screamer got closer, and I was utterly baffled.

My confusion dissolved when I was bowled over by a screeching mass of blue, and the two of us rolled over and over until I was pinned beneath my new captor’s hooves, writhing and struggling to get free.

“STAY WHERE YOU ARE YOU OVERWATCH BASTARD OR I’LL BLOW YOUR BUCKING BRAINS OUT!!” he bellowed in my face.

“I’m not Overwatch!” I shouted, closing my eyes to shield them from spittle. “I’m not even part of the Combine! Get the smeg off me!”

“What the-” The pony pinning me was stunned. “But-but nopony says ‘smeg’ except- is that- are you- Hex?!”

At the mention of my name, I finally plucked up the courage to open my eyes.

The face before me was one of the most badass I have ever seen in my life. His cheeks and chin were coated in rough stubble, and there was a large band-aid over his muzzle. But by far the most terrifying thing about him was his right eye, for this very good reason:

It wasn’t an eye.

It was a ball of shining black glass, with a single small green ring in it indicating a camera lens, held in place by a ring of metal which was riveted to his FACE. As I watched, a pair of shutters closed over it and reopened in the same half second.

Dear sweet smeg, it even blinked.

I somehow found the courage to explore the rest of my assailant’s features. One that stood out rather prominently was the black vest with bullets embedded in it, zipped up on top of a tattered Wonderbolt uniform. And the bloodied bandage wrapped liberally around his neck.

And then there were the most basic features such as the pale blue coat and wings. Not to mention the limp navy blue mane and finally the piercing green eye which, like the Blue Demon’s, penetrated my soul.

It only took me a few seconds to put all of this together, and come to a logical conclusion as to who it could be.

“Soarin’?!”

He leapt off me and scrambled back, staring at me in shock. After that, once I had pulled myself into a sitting position, he zoomed forward and glomped me. Once I got over the initial shock, I patted him on the back, and he gripped me even tighter.

“Dude, I can’t believe it’s YOU!” he cried. “It’s been seventeen bucking years but now you’re finally back! What the hay have you been doing that took you one-and-a-half decades?”

He released me, and his face was painted with a huge, goofy, excitable grin which made him look as if he were five years old.

“You want the truth?” I asked. “Well, you can’t handle the truth! Nah, but seriously I have no smegging idea.”

“Well, whatever the case,” said Soarin’ as he helped me up, “it’s good to have you back in Equestria. Sorry about attacking you.”

“That’s alright,” I said. “I don’t blame you for relying on your instincts. It’s saved my life plenty of times and I’m guessing it’s done the same for you – although not, I notice, for…”

I trailed off, not wanting to mention a certain ocular part of his body.

“For what?” he asked, curiously cocking an eyebrow.

“Um…” How can I put this delicately? “Eye… eye…”

“You what?”

Honestly, I couldn’t think of a single way of saying it without upsetting him, so instead I just pointed at the right side of his face. He reached up and lowered my hoof.

“It’s alright,” he said in a rather bored tone, “I’m used to ponies getting a little freaked out at my implant. You should’ve seen Dashie’s face when she saw it for the first time, it was priceless!”

“I expect so,” I said, “but seriously that thing is freaky as smeg! What is it made of?”

“I think it’s obsidian or something,” said Soarin’, “I wasn’t really listening to Twilight when was telling me what it was, and anyway it was years ago- whatever! What’re you doing in Canterlot?”

“Twilight and I came here looking for you,” I explained. “We got your message about... what was it, the Archives? What’re the Archives?”

“I’ll explain later. We’re camped out at the moment in Canterlot Tower; we’re really close to our goal. I had to fight my way here, though. The Overwatch has finally noticed where we are, so we’ll have to move soon! Come on!”

He galloped in the direction of the tower, and I followed in hot pursuit.

It wasn’t long before we met our first platoon of soldiers. They fired at us as we approached, and I was forced to deflect the bullets with telekinesis as Soarin’ gunned them down. Once they were all dead, we continued running.

“You know,” I said as we ran, “I could be of much more help if I had a weapon of my own!”

Soarin’ drew his own gun (a .44 Magnum, lucky smeghead) blew out the brains of an Overwatch troop who launched himself at us and grabbed the soldier’s shotgun before the lifeless body hit the ground.

“Here you go, one weapon,” he said, giving it to me.

“Uh,” I’ll never get used to how blunt he is, “thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “Now let’s go!”

We were off again. Soarin’ and I fired again and again as we galloped ever closer to the tower. True to his word the Overwatch had finally decided to show up, but they seemed be a little disorganised and nowhere near as difficult to kill as their City 17 counterparts.

It wasn’t long before the earth under our hooves had become deep red mud which sucked at our legs and we had to form makeshift stepping stones out of bodies.

“This is so gross,” I commented.

“Hey, at least they’re not rotting already,” Soarin’ pointed out. “I was in the shower for two whole hours after that, but I still stank so much Dashie avoided me for a week.”

“Why are you calling her ‘Dashie’?” I asked.

“’Coz it annoys the buck out of her,” Soarin’ replied, again grinning like a foal. “She’s ultra-cute when she’s annoyed. Watch your back!”

His warning came just in time, and I whipped around and shot the soldier who was about to do the same to my forehead. Not long after that the garden ended and we were back on solid ground again.

“Smeg am I glad to be out of there,” I stated.

I looked up at the tower, the entry door of which stood at the top of twin sets of stairs. And there was a headcrab shell right in front of it.

“We can’t go in that way!” Soarin’ said. “We’re gonna have to find some other entrance.”

“I don’t think there is one,” I said, looking up the length of the tower. There must have been windows once, but almost the entire thing was coated in steel. I’m serious; you’d have to be half blind to think it looked good.

The two of us circumnavigated the tower several times, searching for a way in, until Soarin’ pointed at something near the base and said “Down there!”

There was a vent, barely big enough for a pony to fit in.

“Oh, you’re kidding,” I sighed. “Fine, but if we have to use that thing we’re going in one by one or not at all.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’ll be a son of a smeghead before I go into a tunnel with somepony’s arse in my face!”

Soarin’ nodded and said “Good point.”

I telekinetically yanked the grate away from the vent entrance and the blue pegasus crawled inside. His thumping around in the shaft echoed and surely must have been audible throughout the entire building, so I was relieved when it stopped.

“It’s okay, it’s clear!” he shouted.

Hearing this, I crawled into the vent and tried to make as little noise as possible, but it was difficult when I was wearing a very thick and solid suit of armour and carrying a shotgun. Plus my covered hooves weren’t providing much grip so it was rather difficult to drag myself along.

And then I met Soarin’ again. He had stopped right in the middle of the vent.

“Why didn’t you go through?” I asked.

“’Coz there’s another grate!” Soarin’ pointed out, and indicated the grille of metal. “I never was the weakest Wonderbolt but I was-” he stopped himself, and added “I was never the strongest either!” in a whisper.

I sighed.

“Fine,” I said, “move aside.”

The pale pegasus pressed himself into the side of the vent, and I could only just make out the grate which was blocking his path. A short zap of magic and it was no more: just a few prongs of metal sticking out of the frame.

“Thanks,” said Soarin’. He crawled through with a small tearing noise and fell to the ground, and I noticed a scrap of blue fabric caught on one of the shards of metal. I followed suit, but thanks to a bit of self-telekinesis my landing was a bit more graceful than his had been.

“Why didn’t you do that for me?” he demanded.

“You never asked me to,” I pointed out.

“Dick.”

“Hey!”

We looked around the room. It was a large and carved into the stone, almost as if it were a cave. The stairs and door, however, indicated that it was in fact a basement of sorts.

Well, it used to be a basement of sorts. Now it was a full blown armoury. There were stacks of explosives ranging from hopper mines to deactivated roller mines to grenades, and shelves piled high with assorted guns and ammunition.

“Sweet,” I commented.

“I know, right?” said Soarin’. “It took the three of us two days to win this place from the Combine, and they’ve been trying to get it back ever since. Doesn’t really work when we’ve got their main source of weaponry though.”

I felt my eyes drinking in every detail – every trigger on every gun, the different ammunition for the different guns, the hexagonal and pentagonal plates on the roller mines – you name it, I saw it. Unfortunately this included the trapdoor at the top of the set of stairs over to the right, and I didn’t even have to get close to know that it was locked.

Soarin’, however, wasn’t quite as perceptive. He tried the handle five times, knocked on it thrice and tried twice to knock it down with his shoulder.

“Uh, Soarin’?” I said. “I think it’s locked.”

“I know!” cried the pegasus. “Why the buck do you think I’m trying to open it?” He banged on the wood repeatedly and yelled “RAINBOW! YOU OUT THERE?!”

After a few seconds with no answer, he tried again while I, uh, repossessed some of the weapons. Then he tried again and again, each time yelling some variation of what he had shouted the first time, until finally...

“Soarin’, is that you?”

“Yes!” he replied. “Yes, Rainbow, it’s me!”

You seriously have no idea how good it was to hear her voice. Just to know she was okay was brilliant.

“What’re you doing in the basement?” she asked.

“We came in through a vent!” Soarin’ explained. “We couldn’t go through the front way because there was a headcrab shell!”

“I know!” Rainbow Dash replied. “We’ve just had to kill them all and a couple of them almost got me! I’m okay though, so don’t worry!”

“Well, could you let us out?” asked Soarin’.

“Sure!” said Dash. “Wait – us?”

“Uh, yeah, there’s somepony else with me!” said Soarin’.

“WHAT?!” yelled Dash. “I’m not letting you out if you’ve brought some weirdo stranger with you! How do you know they can be trusted?”

I sighed. This was getting old.

“Nice to know how you feel about me, Rainbow,” I called through the door.

There was a long pause. I could tell Dash was trying to figure out what she was supposed to think. It wasn’t long before there was the click of the trapdoor being unlocked, and Soarin’ and I stepped back as it opened to reveal the face of a pony who was both horrified and relieved at the same time when it came to seeing me again.

“H-Hex?” she stuttered.

I smiled.

“Hi, Rainbow Dash,” I said meekly.

She stared at me for several seconds and then threw herself on me in a massive hug.

“I can’t believe it!” she cried. “You’re finally back! You’ve finally come back!”

“To tell you the truth,” I said as I hugged her back, “I can’t believe it either.”

She released me and pulled me and Soarin’ up into the main room of the tower. You probably already know what it looked like, so you may be interested to know that the stained-glass windows were blocked off by sheets of metal and the building had been cut into separate floors, presumably all illuminated by small light strips.

“I hardly believed Twilight when she said you were back,” Dash told me. “I honestly thought you were dead, but I guess you’ve just proven me wrong, huh?”

“I hate to say I told you so, Rainbow,” said Twilight from behind her. She walked over to me and kissed me on the cheek. Soarin’ and Rainbow Dash… took it a little further than that. I'll just say they used their tongues and leave it at that.

“Hey!”

The door swung closed again as the Blue Demon stepped into the room.

“Listen,” he said. “Our new arrivals have caused a bit of a stir and there’s a rather large platoon of Overwatch headed our way. If we want to survive we’re going to have to… to get moving…”

He trailed off.

It was then that I notice something else which was rather strange. The moment he’d started talking, Twilight had frozen as though she were face to face with a cockatrice.

“Twilight?” I said. “You okay?”

Very slowly she turned to face the Blue Demon, and they each took a couple of steps towards each other.

Then, as I watched, I almost had a heart attack.

The Blue Demon’s horn glowed with the same colour aura as Twilight’s, and unfastened the clips which held the mask over his face.

It fell to the floor with a small thump, and I think something in Twilight’s mind exploded.

Striped blue mane.

Blue eyes.

White coat.

I… er…

The two unicorns seemed incapable of pulling themselves out of each other’s gaze.

“T-T…Twiley?” stammered the stallion, gasping as though his breath didn’t want to leave his body.

A tear swelled in Twilight’s eye and tricked conspicuously down her cheek.

And then the two of them launched themselves at each other in a hug which, on a scale of one to ten, rated about fifty thousand.

“Twilight,” wept the (former) Blue Demon, “I can’t believe I’ve finally found you!”

“Shine…” cried Twilight in reply. “Shining Armor…”

“…My brother’s alive!”