• Published 27th Mar 2015
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Ynanhluutr - Imploding Colon



A newly transformed Rainbow Dash continues her flight east.

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Raid on Shoggoth, On Your Mark

In another part of Shoggoth...

Four unicorns in plated armor stood before the official entrance to the Royal Tombs. Side by side, the stallions remained frozen in place, their spears levitating by their side. The quartet stared perpetually forward, their bodies still and stalwart.

Then—from the upper reaches of the Muddredge city—a loud commotion arose. The walls rang and echoed with stomping hooves as a wild, angry crowd galloped closer and closer.

For the first time in uncountable hours, the guards shifted. They craned their necks towards the bedlam, then twirled their staves at the ready.

At last, the crowd came surging to a stop, led by a angry-faced Boss Revan. The many thugs and henchstallions of the Syndicate shook and seethed behind the leader as he held his hoof up, silencing them. Brow furrowed, the illustrious mobster of Rust shuffled forward. He opened his mouth to speak—

“State your business!” boomed one of the four guards. “There is no passing beyond this point, by order of the Council of Shoggoth!”

“I know what you're here for, and I know who empowers you,” Revan said. “But you need to let us through regardless.” He fumed, speaking in a rigid tone: “The structural and financial stability of this city is at jeopardy, and we know that the ponies responsible are currently located beyond—”

Nopony passes beyond this point,” one of the guards restated, his eyes piercing. “According to Muddredge Law, you must appeal to the Council of Shoggoth if you have any desire to—”

“Listen, ya tin can!” Revan spat. “There are three ponies who have already passed through your damn stupid 'blockade!' They're the ones who are here to tear apart Shoggoth from the inside! Are you telling me you're going to stand for that?”

“There is only one group of ponies posing as a threat this very moment,” the guard growled, levitating his polearm at the ready. “If you do not back down, then I am authorized by Princess Camellia of the Royal Family to ensure that you do—by force. These tombs are sacred, and no entry is allowed!”

By this point, the group behind Revan had grown loud and unruly, and the riotous leader was no exception. “You want authorization?! I'll show you authorization you sycophantic—”

“Gentlecolts! Gentlecolts!” Jeryn rushed in, waving his forelimbs. Once the mob had quieted just enough, he turned towards them and stammered, “Nopony cares more about the future stability of Shoggoth than I. The security forces of Her Highness and I are quite close, and have worked with one another for several decades. Please, let me take care of this...”

Revan sighed, rolling his eyes and stepping back.

With a clearing of his throat, Jeryn turned to face the guards. “My good fellow,” he spoke in an elegant voice. “Your defense of Her Majesty's interests are most admirable. But you must understand. A terrible coup is ahoof. The greatest threat to Her Highness' city and way of life is at work beneath us... beneath all of us! A group of conniving thugs seek to destroy Shoggoth from the inside out. They've already exploited the Syndicate, besmirched my name, and robbed my good associate here of his righteous standings in Rust. With the Syndicate so wrongly deprived of its power, a vacuum will consume the citizenry of Shoggoth. This will lead to chaos and civil unrest, both of which innately threaten the Princess you so dearly serve. If it's the paramount duty of your heart to protect the Royal Sirens' interest, then you will not only let us enter this sacred domain to dispense justice, but you will assist us in the process. For—as previously stated—three roguish individuals have found another way into the lower sepulchers and Verlaxion knows what terrible damage they might be wielding now!”

The guard nodded and nodded, his ears twitching beneath his helmet as he listened to Jeryn's entire tale. “This is a very grave concern indeed, and we appreciate your ardent worry. We shall diligently attend to the matter.”

“Oh!” Jeryn exhaled with relief, smiling. “Bless you! Bless you, good sir!” He shuffled forward. “Let us be swift about—”

Schiiing! A floating spear blocked the Syndicate Boss, forcing him to stop. “However, we shall deal with it from within.” The guard turned and nodded to one of his three associates. The guard saluted, about-faced, and marched firmly down the torch-lit corridor. “What transpires inside the tombs is Royal business. That has always been the case and shall always be so.”

“Wait... wh-what...?!” Jeryn gnashed his teeth. “But... but d-didn't you hear a word that I said?!”

“I did, which is why I am sending a member of our guard into the catacombs to spread word, so that the entire Guard can act accordingly—”

“Let us in too, ya buffoon!” Jeryn snarled. “There are too few of you to wrangle these morons up! Let us assist you! I know for a fact that we have enough stallions here to—”

“It. Is. Our. Duty,” the guard spoke, glaring. “You have done yours. We appreciate the warning, now relocate yourselves to the Office of Shoggoth Security to await further information. A representative of the Royal House will be there to speak with you shortly—”

Around this time, Revan had looked across the crowd and made eye contact with Cold Stone. Once Cold Stone looked back, the Boss of Rust nodded his head. Cold Stone nodded back, took a deep breath, then fired a pulse of telekinetic magic at the three remaining guards.

The one speaking to Jeryn suddenly found himself being yanked forward by unicorn magic.

“Hrnnnnghh—!” Revan galloped forward, vaulted over Jeryn, and slammed all of his hooves into the guard's upper body.

The guard's armor rattled, and he teetered back a few feet. Just as he tried to recover, Revan came charging again, knocking two of the stallion's plated hooves out from underneath. Four more Syndicate thugs rushed in, shoving the guard to the ground and beating him mercilessly.

The other two guards twirled their staves and aimed the bladed tips. The serrated metal glowed with bright blue energy.

Revan saw it and rolled out of the way. The four thugs curb-stomping the first guard were less lucky. They levitated in place, choking, their eyes bleeding from the sockets.

“No! No!” Jeryn yelped, ears folded. “Gentlecolts, please—”

Raaaaaugh!” Cold Stone galloped forward, lifting the first guard's staff and using it to smack the other two upside the helmet. CL-CLACKKK!

Both guards stumbled. The thugs that they had caught in their aquakinetic fields fell to the floor, wheezing and sputtering. Revan and the rest of the Syndicate charged the armored stallions, overwhelming them, plowing them to the ground and bludgeoning them. After getting several savage kicks in, Revan spat on their armor and spun to face the mob. “No more mercy!” he hollered, raising a hoof in the torchlit air. “Find the mercenaries and grind them to dust!”

“Revan! For Goddess' sake!” Jeryn pleaded in vain. “Please—!”

“They wanna take away our city?! Let's take out their hearts!” Revan bellowed. “Who's with me?!”

Raaaaaaugh!” The stallions rushed forward, enraged.

The fourth guard spun around, eyes widening at the virtual stampede. With frantic speed, he rushed towards a lever and tried shutting the entrance to the tombs.

Cold Stone flung a helmet at the guard, staggering him. Revan reached him with the first wave, pummeling the guard senselessly before galloping down the narrow, sacred corridors.

From the rear, Jeryn winced as more and more Syndicate members galloped past him. Cussing under his breath, he gnashed his teeth and galloped along with the group, piercing the depths of the Royal Sirens' Sepulchers.

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