The Ghost Of Me

by Bluecatcinema

Disintegration

"Boy, first Shadow, then Micro? That must have been a bunch of bad days right there." Caboose frowned, as the group continued walking.

"That's putting it mildly." Black sighed. "I was feeling worse than ever. It was one thing to lose a teamate to the enemy, but to lose one because I was so reckless... well, that was another thing entirely. And letting Pike get away was like rubbing salt on the wound. All I could think about was bringing those Black Sheep down so I could end the whole madness and focus on the Forefathers. It became an obsession... and it began to control to me."

"Those were dark times, alright." Armory agreed as he joined them.

"You're telling me." Mastermind nodded. "I knew it would a tough job, but I hadn't excepted such turmoil both on and off missions."

"Most of that was because of me." Black admitted. "I wasn't at all happy with having another new guy around. And I wasn't happy with the others for letting him in. So I started shutting them all out."

"I can't imagine that would have helped matters." Fletcher frowned.

"No kidding." Black nodded. "And it only got worse from there..."

Many years ago...

Everything was a blur for Pike, as he laid in the infirmary of Infinity. The brutal beating that Black had dealt him had left in really bad shape, The Forefathers' doctors determinedly sought to heal his wounds.

While they were busy, Pike's mind began drifting off, blocking out all noises, as a memory began coming back to him...

Flashback...

It has been an awful past couple of weeks for poor old Pike.

He was currently sitting in the corner of a dingy bar, as he had been for most of that time, hopelessly lost in grief over the death of his family. When the cops came and examined the crime scenes, they told him that his family was murdered, each in their own room. Even worse, the murderer was not shy about it, as he had done awful things, things so awful that Pike couldn't bring himself to remember it.

After the cops left, all Pike could think about was why somepony would do this to his family, or to him of all ponies. His family was innocent. He was innocent. What did they or he ever do to deserve this?

That question continued to haunt him, and soon enough, he found himself constantly drinking, hoping that it would make the grief go away... but to no avail.

'Lousy stuff.' Pike grimaced, as he downed his fifth bottle. 'Ponies always talking about 'drinking to forget'. Those dumbasses. I've been drinking all night, and I still remember everything...' He glanced at his empty bottle. 'Maybe the sixth time's the charm.'

As Pike made his way back to the bar to get his next bottle, he bumped into somepony.

"Hey, watch it, ya-" He snarled.

"Pike?"

"Aw, buck." Pike grunted.

Pike realised it was his old neighbor Bulb; a light blue Earth Pony stallion with a frizzy black mane, brown eyes, and a Cutie Mark of an onion bulb. Pikee never really cared for the guy, as he was always easy-going and a bit of a slacker, and his wife, while hot, was infuriatingly dim-witted. The only reason he ever come to know them really was because his son was in love with their daughter... was...

"It is you!" Bulb gaped. "...My Faust, you look like crap."

"And you're fat!" Pike snarled. Normally, he would have tolerated Bulb's company, but now, he was in no mood.

"Whoa, Pike, take it easy." Bulb frowned, as he sniffed a bit. "Jeez, laying it heavy on the Sud Light, aren't ya, pal?"

"That's none of your -hic- business." Pike slurred. "Now leave me alone."

"Come on Pike, I'm your friend." Bulb urged. "...I've been worried about you."

"Oh, what are you, a pansy?" Pike sneered.

"I'm serious, Pike." Bulb glared. "I'm worried about you... and not just me, everypony is. We know ever since what happened, you've been going downhill fast. First, I heard you quit your job, then you sold the house..."

"Well, I can't really live in a house where my family was brutally murdered, now can I?" Pike glared.

"...I know losing your family was agonizing, Red." Bulb sighed, using his old nickname. "You of all ponies didn't deserve that."

"As if you would know." Pike growled. "You still have your family, alive and safe. I have nothing left."

"Hey, you're not the only one who was affected by this tragedy." Bulb pointed out. "My daughter Belladonna loved Spear. And so did Kelp and Juniper, and that one funny Hindian pony..."

"Good for them." Pike scowled. "Too bad missing them won't do them a damn thing to help. They're dead... all of them."

"Drinking your life away isn't going to change that." Bulb shook his head. "You've got to pull yourself together. What would your family say if they saw you like this?"

"What a dumbass question." Pike scoffed. "I'm only like this because I lost them, remember?"

"Pike, I just want to help you." Bulb urged.

"You wanna help?" Pike snarled. "Find me a way to get rid of all this pain! Can you do that, Bulb?"

Bulb shook his head, distraught.

"Exactly." Pike said maliciously. "And since you can't do that, you might as well leave me alone."

"Red-" Bulb started.

"And if you ever call me 'Red' again, I will have my hoof book a flight to your ass!" Pike growled. "Now let me drink and mope in peace, will ya?"

Pike walked away, leaving his friend unable to think of a way to help him.

"Oh, Pike..." Bulb sighed.

End flashback...

"Ooh..." Pike grimaced, as he stirred on his hospital bed. He weakly opened his eyes as he took in his surroundings. "Do I have to go to school today, mom?"

"No, today you get to sleep in."

Pike slowly turned to find that Loveless was standing there, his chair parked by the bedside.

"I'm glad to see that you have finally awakened." Loveless smiled. "I was worried for a while there."

"Loveless..." Pike murmured as he gave a weak laugh. "I'm touched that you care. Especially after how bad I screwed up."

"Look, there's no need to worry about that now." Loveless urged.

"No, there is." Pike sighed, "...I'm sorry, Loveless, I tried. I really tried to take Black down, but it wasn't enough..."

"I know." Loveless nodded solemnly. "I'm just glad that you managed to escape with your life."

"Barely." Pike scowled. "That Black's really lost it this time..."

"You can't lose what you never had." Loveless sneered.

"Speaking of 'never had', where's-" Pike started.

At that moment, the doors opened, and the two turned, Pike's face souring, as Scalphunter, flanked by Reaper, his mask off, came in.

"Ah, the conquering hero returns." Scalphunter gave a snide grin.

"I have to say, Pike, when they said you were in here, I had feared that you would look a lot worse than you do right now." Reaper nodded. "But it's seems my fears were misplaced."

"What the hell do you two want?" Pike frowned.

"What, can't two of your loyal comrades pay you a visit?" Scalphunter smiled.

"Oh, now you care about me?" Pike snarled. "You didn't seem to care when you went behind my back!"

"Faust, are you still on about that?" Scalphunter glared. "I said I was sorry, didn't I?"

"You think 'sorry' is going to cut it after what you did?" Pike scowled. "You sent Reaper and Talbolt on a mission without notifying me, and when you had Black at your mercy, you killed... his friend. Only his friend."

"In hindsight, it was a poor decision." Reaper confessed. "After I murdered Shadow, Black Knight lost it. He fought like a pony possessed, with savagery like I have never seen before..."

"Well, maybe if you'd just stuck to my orders and focused only on Black, he'd be dead by now." Pike pointed out. "But instead, you indulged your sadistic need to slaughter and terrorise ponies."

"Hey, you can't blame a guy for wanting to have a little fun on the job." Scalphunter defended his comrade.

"You don't get it, do you?" Pike sat up, wincing from his injuries. "When I fought Black, he was as savage as Reaper described him. He was faster, stronger, and beyond all reason pissed. He wouldn't have been this way if you guys had acted professionally, instead of being impetuous children."

"Hey, watch it." Reaper spat. "Just because you're in recovery, and our boss, doesn't mean I will stand for being insulted."

"Alright, I think that's enough." Loveless urged. "Come on, now. Give Pike some time to rest."

"Whatever." Scalphunter sneered. "I hear the bedpans in this place are real nice anyway."

"You better hope you're a slow healer, Pike..." Reaper muttered.

The two left the room, as Pike laid down, slamming his hooves into the bed.

"Ingrates. All of them." Pike snarled. "All these years I spent turning their organization around, and this is how they repay me?"

"Forget about them for now." Loveless declared. "Just focus on getting better. I'll keep an eye on those two for you."

"Thanks." Pike gave a small smile, before lighting up. "Oh, before I forget... could you check my jacket's top left pocket? It's over there, on the table."

Loveless did as such, picking up the jacket, and from the top left pocket, pulled out what remained of Pike's 'Redfield Pike' and the strap that it was attached to.

"Black kinda broke it off during our fight. Could you possibly..." Pike asked.

"Of course. It's the least I could do." Loveless smiled. "Now, you should get some rest."

"Okay, thanks." Pike sighed as Loveless left the room. As soon as he was gone, he looked up at the ceiling, lost in his thoughts.

'How the hell am I going to break it to him? That I really can't kill Black?' He thought. 'What will everypony else think? The higher-ups won't be happy, that's for sure. They'll blow their stacks... Speaking of, what's going on with Black? I've never seen him fight with such anger, such relentless viciousness... Almost makes Scalphunter look stable. I don't know what's going on with him, but I'm gonna find out.'

With that, Pike drifted off to sleep.

Back at the Taskforce Headquarters, Black was not taking having another new member on the team very well. Despite Micro's wishes, he could barely bring himself to acknowledge Mastermind or Incognito. In fact, he was starting to distance himself from his teammates, refusing to sit with them in the mess hall, or spar with them in the gym, or even play with them in the rec room. And any who tried to talk him into joining were doomed to failure... and worse.

"Hey Black, how about joining us?" Ballista asked, as he and the others played pool in the rec room.

"Sorry, not up to it right now." Black shook his head.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" Incognito urged.

"I said I'M NOT UP TO IT RIGHT NOW!!" Black roared, before marching out of the room.

"Rooo..." Titan whined.

"You said it, mate." Ballista frowned. "Something's not right with that bloke lately..."

"I know I'm new here, but I've noticed that Black does seem 'off'." Mastermind added. "I asked him to pass me the salt at lunch yesterday, and he practically threw it at me."

"Ever since Micro left, Black's been getting worse." Incognito frowned.

"He's just in a slump." Armory declared. "He'll snap out of it. Just give him time."

"I hope you're right, mate." Ballista sighed. "I really do..."

Unfortunately, Armory's prediction was incorrect; Black did not get better, only worse. He would snap at the others over the smallest thing, and whenever he brought back a subject for interrogation, they had already been beaten to a pulp. It wasn't long before Elite took notice.

As Black viciously pounded a punching bag in the gym, Elite entered.

"Easy there, Black." Elite joked. "Those things don't come cheap."

"Ha. Ha." Black said flatly, punctuating each word with a punch.

"Black, we need to talk." Elite declared.

"Not now." Black said bluntly.

"Need I remind you that I'm your superior officer?" Elite frowned. "I'll order you to talk if I have to."

Black punched the bag hard enough to rip through the exterior, causing the innards to spill out.

"Fine." He growled, turning to face Elite. "Just make it quick."

"I'll get right to the point, then." Elite declared. "Ever since Micro left, you've been sullen, distanced, and temperamental. You're refusing to interact with the others, and biting their heads off when they try to get you to."

"Maybe I just don't feel like company right now." Black huffed. "I should never have been friends with the others in the first place. Just makes the pain worse when they die... and they will."

"You don't know that for sure, Black." Elite frowned. "And you shouldn't push the others away for fear of losing them."

"I'm only afraid of losing some of them." Black snorted. "The new guys can go hang for all I care."

"Black..." Elite glared.

"What does it matter, anyway?" Black asked. "You brought me in to do a job, not make friends. And I've been doing that job, and doing it well."

"Well, in a way, yes... but I noticed you've been a bit rough with your targets as of late. You do realize that it's Ballista and Titan's thing to rough up the targets, right?"

"So?" Black scowled. "They're criminal scum. Didn't think I had to fluff up some pillows before taking them out."

"I'm just saying that it's a slippery slope." Elite told Black. "You'd be surprised how quickly you can descend. I just need to be sure that you can stand firm."

"Of course I can 'stand firm'." Black sneered. "If all the garbage I've been through so far hasn't broken me, nothing will."

"We can only hope..." Elite muttered.

"What was that?" Black frowned.

"I hope you can at least try to reintegrate with the others." Elite stated. "Especially Incognito and Mastermind."

"Is that another order?" Black snarled.

"I'd rather it not be." Elite said solemnly.

"Whatever." Black scoffed. "But right now, I'm going to get some rest. Big workout, y'know..."

Black made his way to the door, glancing at Elite as he went.

"By the way, I couldn't help but notice the punching bag went bust. Probably should get it replaced." He jeered.

"It's not over yet, Black." Elite mused. "I still have one card left to play..."

Black made his way to his quarters.

"Stupid Elite." He scowled, grabbing his tape player. "Why can't he just butt out?"

Black lay on his bed, his tape player on full blast.

Oh I miss the kiss of treachery
The shameless kiss of vanity
The soft and the black and the velvety
Up tight against the side of me

And mouth and eyes and heart all bleed
And run in thickening streams of greed
As bit by bit it starts the need
To just let go my party piece

Oh I miss the kiss of treachery
The aching kiss before I feed
The stench of love for a younger meat
And the sound it makes
When it cuts in deep

The holding up on bended knees
The addiction of duplicities
As bit by bit it starts the need
To just let go my party piece

But I never said I would stay to the end
So I leave you with babies
And hoping for frequency
Screaming like this in the hope of the secrecy
Screaming me over and over and over

I leave you with photographs
Pictures of trickery
Stains on the carpet
And stains on the scenery

Songs about happiness murmured in dreams
When the both of us knew
What the ending would be

So it's all come back round to breaking apart again
Breaking apart like I'm made up of glass again
Making it up behind my back again
Holding my breath for the fear of sleep again

Holding it up behind my head again
Cut in deep to the heart of the bone again
Round and round and it's coming apart again
Over and over and over

Now that I know I'm breaking to pieces
I'll pull out my heart
And I'll feed it to anyone

Crying for sympathy
Crocodiles cry
For the lover of the crowd
And the three cheers from everyone

Dropping through sky through the glass of the roof
Through the roof of your mouth
Through the mouth of your eye
Through the eye of the needle

And it's easier for me
To get closer to heaven than to heaven to ever
Feel whole again

"Black?" Armory's voice called, followed by knocking on the door to Black's quarters.

'Typical.' Black thought. 'Can never get a moment's peace around here anymore...'

Switching off the player, Black reluctantly went to answer the door.

"What is it?" He asked petulantly.

"Hey, Black." Armory smiled. "How's it going?"

"Is that it?" Black growled. "You just came here to ask me 'how's it going'?"

"No." Armory said weakly. "I was just... wondering if you'd like to have a game of pool with me."

"No thanks." Black said flatly.

"...Black, we're all worried about you." Armory confessed.

"Oh, of course." Black snarled. "Elite sent you, right?"

"Well, yeah..." Armory admitted. "But we are worried about you. Especially me."

"Well, don't be." Black glared. "I'm just fine."

"I hear that bit all the time, and most of the time, it's a lie." Armory frowned. "Black, I'm your friend. I care about you. We all do. I know the past few months have been rough, but you can't and shouldn't shoulder the burden alone... you gotta let me in."

"No." Black said angrily. "You should stay away from me."

"Black-" Armory started.

"You don't get it, do you?" Black snarled. "Everypony that I've come to know has gone away. Rookie is dead. White is dead. Shadow is dead. And Micro left. And you already almost died because of me." He let out a woeful sigh. "It's... it's best that you just keep away."

"Sorry, I can't do that." Armory said firmly. "You're my friend, Black. And I refuse to let you be alone. I don't care if it's dangerous, I'll always have your back."

"...There's just no shaking you, is there?" Black sighed.

"Nope." Armory nodded. "Now, how about that pool game? I won't take no for an answer."

"Well, I guesss one couldn't hurt." Black nodded. "But let's just keep it between you and me, okay? Nopony else."

"Guess that'll have to do." Armory nodded, as he led Black out of the room.

Black did spend a little more time with Armory over the coming days, but he kept his distance from the others. Elite wasn't exactly pleased, but he knew a little progress was better than nothing.

The following week, Elite called Black and Armory in.

"I have a mission for you two." He announced. "Mastermind uncovered intel that a group of Forefathers have made their base in a bunker just outside Baltimare. I need you to bring down their operations, and bring back the pony in charge for interrogation." He held up a picture of a grizzled stallion for reference. "As always, Armory will provide cover fire, while Black handles the face-to-face battle."

"Will do, chief." Armory nodded.

"Consider it done." Black smirked.

Black and Armory boarded the carriage, and moved out to Baltimare.

"Finally, a little more action." Black declared. "It's been too long since I last cracked some skulls."

"Yeah..." Armory said awkwardly. "Good to get out of the base, huh?"

"If only it wasn't such a long drive." Black huffed.

"Well, I know one way to pass the time." Armory smiled.

"You do?" Black said hopefully.

"You already know how Shadow and Micro joined up, right?" Armory asked.

"Yeah." Black nodded.

"Well, maybe it's time you knew my secret origin." Armory grinned. "Wanna hear it?"

"As long as you make it quick." Black frowned.

"Fair enough." Armory shrugged. "I was born in Germaney, in a middle-class family. I was always a technical whizz; I loved inventing, just for the thrill of it. I invented all sorts of things: Landmine detectors, magnetic grenades, stain resistant gloves... even a self-sharpening pencil. It was a pretty good life."

"Then what happened?" Black sighed, "I'm guessing some big tragedy?"

"Nein. I got involved with some bad ponies." Armory shook his head. "They worked for some military organization led by a pony named Ahoof Trotler. They seemed nice when they recruited me. They gave me my own workshop, all the materials I needed, and even a few live test subjects... it wasn't until I learned that they had a great distaste towards those of the Jockish faith that I felt these guys weren't all that good."

"So you left them, right?" Black asked.

"I wish." Armory sighed. "Despite all the bad things they were doing, the pay was good and my inventions were getting out there. I thought, 'hey, an invention used for evil is still an invention used'."

"That's one way of looking at it." Black frowned.

"Yeah... it wasn't until the day that the military organization was defeated, and Ahoof went and offed himself that I knew I had to get out of there." Armory continued. "I heard that the whole 'I was just following orders' bit wasn't cutting it, so I took a hot air balloon right out of Germaney and landed in the jungles of Braezil, hiding myself from the world... until the time when yet another military organization would seek me out..."

Flashback...

The younger Armory was residing in a ramshackle home in a town by the edge of the Amarezon rainforest. All he wore was his ratty labcoat from his job back in Germaney, and despite keeping up on hygiene, his mane and beard were out of control. He had only been living on the lam for a couple of years, surviving on nothing but papayas and Braezillian nuts.

While he did miss the luxuries of life back in Germaney, he knew he couldn't go back... but at least he had his hooves and a brain full of inventions to make. And with all the alone time he had, he busied himself by making them. Given how far he was from civilization, there wasn't really much in terms of materials to make stuff, but he made do, and managed to prouce some gadgets... which admittingly had little to no use.

One was a device that could pluck the hair off a coconut (one at a time), another was an extendable claw that could push away leaves on the trees, and for some reason, he'd made a psuedo-volleyball with a face on it... he called it Wilson.

At the moment, he was in his house, putting the finishing touches on a device to stroke his pet capybara.

"There, there, Trotler Jr., who's a good capybara?" Armory rubbed its head as the device worked it's magic.

The capybara let out a mix of a purr and a squeak as it laid there.

"Welp, that's another invention done." Armory smiled, as he pulled out a old notebook. "I think I'll tackle those coconut earphones next, and then proceed to give Wilson a working bod-"

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door of the house.

"What the... I'm not expecting visitors today." Armory frowned. "Not ever, actually...."

Tentatively, Armory opened the door. Standing before him, in a traveler's vest, and with a prothestic leg, was none other than Elite.

"Um... can I help you, good sir?" Armory asked. "Are you lost? It is easy to get lost out here int he jungle."

"Oh, quite the contrary, Heinrich Armory." Elite smiled. "I'm where I want to be."

"...You know my name?" Armory gaped.

"That's right." Elite nodded. "In fact, I've been looking for you for a while now."

"Oh no..." Armory trembled. "I knew this day would come... You're here to bring me back to Germaney on war crime charges, are you?!"

"Well-" Elite started.

"You'll never take me alive!" Armory pulled a pill out of his belt and put it in his mouth, cracking it open with his teeth. "See you in hell!" He closed his eyes to embrace death... only to realize that nothing was embracing him. "What the..."

"Trying the old cyanide pill trick, huh?" Elite smirked. "I anticipated that. That's why I sneaked in here last night and replaced it with a salt pill."

"What?! But how did you-"

"I slipped in through the back way." Elite declared. "Suffice to say, that capybara makes a lousy guard dog."

"Oh." Armory cringed, as Trotler Jr. squeaked innocently. "Well... you're still not getting me without a fight!"

He pulled out a home-made wrench that was made out of sturdy wood.

"En garde, Equestri-" He growled.

*SHINK!*

The wrench was sliced in half, as Elite's metal hoof-turned-machete cut through it with ease.

"Eep." Armory gulped, as he dropped what was left of his wrench.

"Now, take it easy, Heinrich..." Elite smiled, as he gestured him to take a seat. Armory did not dare disobey. "I can call you that, right? I am not here to arrest you."

"You're not?" Armory frowned.

"No." Elite nodded. "I'm here to make you an offer."

"What kind of offer?" Armory asked.

"Well, I've heard quite a bit about you, Heinrich." Elite smirked. "How you've built countless technological wonders... and a few technological novelties. Such things require a deeply creative mind, and great skill."

"Well, I don't mean to boast, but I do know my way around a toolbench." Armory shrugged.

"That is why I'm here. I've been putting together a little taskforce, comprised of some of the best ponies there are... and guess what, you fit the bill." Elite smiled.

"So, you want to recruit me for this 'taskforce', is that it?" Armory frowned. "No offense, but I kinda already did that, and now I'm forced to hide out here."

"That's the beauty part. I can guarantee you that we are not some sort of evil organization. We're the good guys." Elite declared. "Besides, we could use a gadget pony of your caliber. A bonafide genius of machinery and all inventions..."

"Well, you look like a swell guy, and I do find your machete hoof rather amazing..." Armory admitted, but he crossed his hooves. "But what exactly is in it for me? What could you offer me that my... last employers couldn't?"

"Loads of things." Elite smirked. "To begin with, all those 'war crimes' will be expunged and wiped from the books. You will be permitted to begin a new life anew with the Royal Defense Legion, a.k.a. the RDL. Instead of making these strange thingamajigs out of trees and anything you can find out here... you can make strange thingamajigs out of the best resources money can buy. And you'll have an even bigger workshop than what you had back in Germaney."

"Hmm. that does sound very tempting. The lack of decent materials has really limited my creativity." Armory mused... before turning to Elite. "Are you certain you're the good guys? Really sure?"

"I'm absolutely sure." Elite smiled. "Your inventions will only be used for good, I promise."

"Well, in that case... I'm in." Armory declared. "You got yourself an inventor, pal."

"Excellent." Elite shook his hoof. "Would you care to follow me to the airfield, or do you need to get some things in order?"

"You go on ahead." Armory urged. "I've got a few things to take care of."

"Fair enough." Elite nodded. "But don't take too long. My airship won't wait forever"

"Duly noted." Armory nodded.

After Elite left, Armory went to his bedroom, packed his things, and opened up a trunk, revealing it to be full of explosives.

Whistling merrily, Armory planted them all around the first two floors. During his setup, he then released his pet capybara.

"Go on, Trotler Jr., be free." Armory smiled as the capybara ran off into the wilderness.

Finally, he made his way down to the basement that he had dug out with his own bare hooves... which was filled to the brim with pony-sized glass tubes containing ponies that looked like him... or at least were supposed to. There seem to be a variety of differences between the clones.

"Sorry, boys." He sighed wistfully, planting more explosives. "Can't have more than one Armory in this world right now."

After Armory left his house, he walked several steps away, then triggered a remote detonator. The entire building went up in flames.

"New life, here I come..." He smiled.

End flashback...

"Clones?" Black frowned. "You made clones of yourself?"

"Don't ask." Armory said flatly. "I was hiding in those jungles for months and was bored out of my mind. I almost lost my sanity, in fact. The less said about my relationship with Wilson the better. Then there was the relentless chirping of the jungle birds, further eroding at my mental state. I almost started thinking they were performing big, coreographed samba numbers- Oh, we're here!"

They had indeed arrived just outside Baltimare. The bunker was in sight.

"Here we go." Black smiled. "Stay behind me."

"I know, I know." Armory nodded. "Cover fire, I got it."

Black started off by throwing a smoke bomb through the bunker's window. He then blasted open the door.

"Come and get it, scum!" He roared, charging in.

"We're under attack!" The grizzled stallion from the photo yelled. "Kill them!"

The agents numbered almost two dozen, but between Black's vicious use of force, and Armory's cover fire (utilizing his newest work, a gatling crossbow), they didn't last long.

"G-g-g-g-get someeeee!" Armory bellowed, his body trembling from the heavy rapid fire of his big gatling crossbow.

"Okay, tough guy." Black approached the target. "Just you and me now."

"Bring it." The stallion spat.

The two charged at each other. Armory, confident Black could handle things, lowered his weapon, ready to enjoy the show. The target was a tough one. Unbeknownst to Black, he was a former soldier, so he could put up a good fight.

"Hah!" The stallion kicked Black hard. "How ya like that?"

"I don't." Black said flatly, retaliating with a punch.

"Ugh!" The stallion stumbled back. "Oh, are we done warming up? Good."

The stallion threw another punch at Black.

"Ug!" Black grunted. "Now you're gonna get it..."

Their fight continued. The stallion was brutal, striking hard and fast. Black was able to keep up, but the stallion resorted to cheap shots whenever he could, which served to enrage Black further.

"Eat this!" The stallion slammed both hooves into the sides of Black's head.

"Gah!" Black grunted.

"Come on, wimp!" The stallion sneered. "Shake it off!"

"You are asking for it!" Black spat.

"So give it to me!" The stallion snarled.

"You got it!" Black headbutted the stallion, knocking him on his back. He then pinned his opponent down, and started punching him repeatedly.

"How ya like that?!" He snarled. "Or this? Or this? OR THIS?!"

"Black?" Armory murmured, as Black continued the onslaught.

"RAAARRRGH!!" Black roared, hitting harder and harder.

"Black, stop!" Armory rushed over. "We're supposed to bring him back alive! For Faust's sake, you're going to kill him!"

Black froze mid-punch, his anger dissipating.

"I... I..." He stuttered, looking at the bloodied mess of his opponent's face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to beat him this bad. I just... I don't know what I was thinking..."

"It's okay." Armory patted him on the back. "He's still alive. So let's bring him back."

"Yeah, sure..." Black nodded, unnerved by his own actions.

They returned to headquarters with their captive in tow. Both stallions remained silent the whole trip back. Once they arrived, Black delivered the stallion to the interrogation room, while Armory went to put away his gear. As he did so, he passed Elite's office, and heard muffled voices.

"I think the time has come, Elite." Ballista's voice declared.

"No, Ballista, it's still too soon." Elite's voice rebutted.

"Come on, mate, we knew this day was coming." Ballista groaned. "Black has finally reached the tipping point. You saw what happened to that poor stallion."

"What..." Armory murmured, deeply concerned. "What's going on?"

Armory placed his ear against the door.

"Ballista, this wasn't supposed to happen. Not this soon." Elite murmured.

"Well, what can you do, Elite?" Ballista asked. "The poor blighter's had it rough these past months. Losing his brother, Shadow dying right in front of him, Micro leaving. All these stressors must have gone and expedited the process."

"But Black is still in control of his actions." Elite urged.

"Barely. If Armory hadn't been there, Black would've killed our target." Ballista rebutted. "It's time to face facts. We have to begin the next phase of Project: Argo, and soon."

"...Ballista, this still doesn't sit right with me... I don't know if I can do this to Black. Not after everything he has done for us." Elite shook his head.

"Hey, we both agreed on this together. There's no going back." Ballista said firmly, as he let out a sigh. "Look, I know how much Black means to you, but with the way things are going right now, Black's days here will soon come to an end."

"I know... I just hope we will be able to forgive ourselves for putting Black through this." Elite sighed.

Armory stepped back from the door, shaken by what he had just heard.

'Project: Argo?' He thought. 'I've never heard of it. ... Maybe we have it on file somewhere...'

Armory headed down to the archives, eager to learn what "Project: Argo" was.

Meanwhile, at a fancy diner in Manehattan, Natascha de Lady-Luck was sitting at a table, in a fancy silver gown, her blue necklace glinting in the light. She checked her watch, as she was expecting somepony. Suddenly, a hooded stallion took the seat opposite her.

"Hey, is this seat taken?" He asked.

"Actually, yes." Natascha frowned. "I am waiting for a client."

"Ah, so you got my message." The stallion took off his hood to reveal Pike's heavily bruised face.

"You're the one who contacted me?" Natascha gasped.

"That's me." Pike nodded. "And taking by your shocked expression, you know who I am."

"...Of course, Pike Redfield, from Point Place, Wincoltson, family pony until your whole family was murdered..." Natascha trailed off slightly as Pike glared at her. "...Now bounty hunter and leader of the Black Sheep division of the Forefathers."

"Wow, you really are good at finding out stuff." Pike smiled.

"What is it that you want, Pike?" Natascha frowned.

"Information." Pike answered. "I was told that you are the best whistleblower in the underworld of Equestria, that you can find out anything for a good price."

"Well, that much is true." Natascha admitted.

"Good, because I need some information regarding a stallion... the one you call Black Knight?" Pike requested.

Natascha glared at him.

"Well, I'm sorry, but information regarding Taskforce Omega goes for a surcharge of 51.2-" She started.

"Million bits, I know." Pike interrupted. "But I don't want information on the Taskforce. I want information on Black and Black alone. How much does that go for?"

Natascha hesitated, not trusting her would-be client.

"Forty thousand Bits, which I doubt you hav-" She began.

Pike set down a large bag full of Bits.

"Forty thousand, plus a tip for your service..." He declared. "Now, sing, canary."

Natascha glanced at the bag of money, the greed within her telling her to take it... only to push it away.

"I'm sorry... but I refuse to give information to ponies like you." She said firmly.

"What do you mean?" Pike frowned.

"As if I need to spell it out." Natascha glared at Pike again. "I don't help terrorists or warmongers. Especially those of Forefathers fame. Including the Black Sheep."

"Really? And here I thought you would do anything for money." Pike snorted. "I hear that you're quite the little floozy."

"I would do 'most' things." Natascha retorted. "But money is not worth helping you, or those awful ponies destroy lives."

"...Well, I would be lying if I said I didn't see this coming..." Pike sighed. "But I did... and I have no choice but to add something to the deal."

"Like what?" Natascha sneered. "What could you have that would make me change my mind?"

"Do the names 'Sam Revolver' and 'DeRose Fiora' ring any bells?" Pike asked, causing Natascha's eyes to widen. "They should. You did help destroy their operations and took their little love potion recipe... and let me tell ya, time did not heal any wounds for those two. I'm sure they would be most happy to hunt the mare that ruined everything for them."

"...You wouldn't..." Natscha stammered.

"Try me." Pike pulled out his mirror. "I have their mirrors on speed-dial, and they will be on you like flies on a donut... unless you want to just take the money now and give me the information I desire."

Natascha remained silent, in defiance of Pike's threat.

"Once the call goes through, the deal is off. And I would hate to see them mess up your pretty little face." Pike slowly moved his hoof toward the jewel that activated the mirror...

"Wait..." Natascha sighed, reluctantly taking the money. "You win... what is it that you want to know about Black?

"Nothing much really... only information about what it is that Elite and Ballista have planned for him." Pike announced.

"What? That's all?" Natascha frowned. "You're not here for anything else?"

"Of course not." Pike nodded. "I just wish to know why out of all the ponies Elite and Ballista had at their disposal in the RDL... they pick Black. I know they're hiding something from him."

"Of course they are." Natascha snorted. "The guys in charge always have something to hide. But no secret is safe from the likes of me..."

"So I hear." Pike smirked. "So... you gonna dish it out, or leave me in suspense?"

"You know me, I like to keep up the dramatic tension." Natascha grinned. "Just like you, with your mirror trick."

"Honestly, I was bluffing." Pike shrugged. "Like I'd have those two jokers on my speed-dial. I just thought you needed a little incentive."

"Of course you did." Natascha sighed. "Anyway, I've heard of a little something, hidden deep in the RDL files. It's something that Black's has been the main subject of for quite some time. They call it 'Project Argo'."

"Catchy." Pike nodded. "Tell me more..."

A few hours later, after a very long talk with Natascha, Pike returned to Infinity, taking a stroll through the monastery. His face was furrowed in deep contemplation, the things he'd learned being not what he had expected.

"Pike?" Loveless frowned as he rolled by, "What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting."

"I'm fine, Loveless." Pike insisted. "The doctors gave me a clean bill, told me to take it easy. So I chatted up an informant."

"Oh, about Black, right?" Loveless asked.

"Sorta." Pike shrugged, not wanting to go into details. "But it wasn't anything useful."

"Well, I just hope you aren't planning on going after him so soon. That would be very foolhardy." Loveless sighed, before putting up a smile as he reached into his pouch. "But on the bright side, I fixed your 'pike'." He pulled out said blade with the wriststrap attached to it, fully restored.

"Thanks, Loveless. Though I don't know when I'll be able to use it again." Pike murmured.

"Well, at least it could double as a bottle opener." Loveless suggested.

"I guess so." Pike shrugged.

Loveless took note of his friend's somber expression.

"Pike, I'm sure you will get him next time." Loveless declared, giving a sympathetic pat on the back. "Once you are back to full health and on top of your game, Black will have to watch his back."

Pike looked at Loveless. He just wasn't sure how to respond. After everything he had been through with Black and what he had learned from Natascha, he couldn't bring himself to say that he couldn't do it.

He couldn't kill Black. Not just because Black had kicked his flank. But because he didn't want to. Every part of him just refused to comply.

But there was no way he could tell Loveless that, or anypony else for that matter... not if he valued his life.

"Yeah... sure." Pike nodded, trying to sound sincere. "Next time we meet, he'll have to watch not just his back, but his front, and his... everything."

"Now that sounds like the Pike I know and admire." Loveless grinned. "It's a pity I won't be there when you finally do finish Black. After spending so much time chasing him, I imagine it'll be quite the joy, watching the light fade from his eyes at long last."

"It sure will."Pike mumbled. "That day can't come fast enough."

"Well, I should leave you to your pursuit." Loveless smiled. "Once you've fully healed, of course."

"Of course." Pike nodded weakly. "Speaking of, maybe I should get a little rest."

"You do that." Loveless declared, wheeling away.

Pike breathed a sigh of relief.

'Don't know how much longer I could have kept that up...' Pike sighed.

Loveless rolled his way through the corridors of Infinity. As he rounded a corner, he found his way blocked by Gridlock and Harlhooves.

"Loveless. We need to talk." Harlhooves declared.

"Right now." Gridlock scowled.

"Gentlestallions." Loveless said flatly. "How may I help you?"

"That is a good question, Loveless." Harlhooves nodded. "And here's the answer: You can help us by getting your act together."

"What are you talking about?" Loveless frowned.

"We're talking about Pike." Gridlock snarled. "We're sick and tired of all the excuses you've been making for him! Day in and day out, you keep coming into the Coils, saying that Pike hasn't killed Black, because of one thing or another. 'Black's too slippery', 'he sent the wrong Black Sheep', 'he got faulty intel'... At this point, they all sound the Faust damn same."

"I haven't been making excuses." Loveless countered. "Only reasoned arguments."

"Well, we've had enough of 'reason'." Harlhooves frowned. "For the past few years, Pike and his Black Sheep have continually failed to eliminate Black Knight Paladin. Such failure can no longer be tolerated."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Loveless frowned.

"It means it's time we terminated Pike." Gridlock scowled. "And that ain't a euphemism."

"But... you can't!" Loveless spluttered.

"And yet, we must." Harlhooves retorted. "He's failed us too many times. And we've terminated operatives for far fewer failures."

"But Pike is getting close." Loveless declared. "He almost had Black the last time, and he is already so close. Even now, he is chasing down a viable lead. Just give him a little more time, and he will succeed."

"I suppose a little more time wouldn't change things." Harlhooves sighed. "But make sure Pike knows he is on his last chance."

"I shall." Loveless nodded. "Thank you for your patience."

Loveless wheeled away down the corridor.

"I don't care what Loveless says." Gridlock growled. "I'm not waiting for that idiot Pike to mess up again."

"But Gridlock-" Harlhooves started.

"But nothing." Gridlock snarled. "The time has finally come to take matters into my own hooves. I'm going to put those worthless Black Sheeps to good use for once..."

Back at Taskforce Omega's headquarters, Armory stormed through the corridors, carrying a file under one hoof, totally outraged. His research project had not turned out the way he'd expected at all, and he was angry.

He marched straight into Elite's office, slamming the file onto the desk.

"Care to explain this to me?" He growled.

"Excuse me?" Elite frowned.

"I said, care to explain this?" Armory repeated.

Elite glanced at the file below. His eyebrow raised in surprise.

"That's right." Armory scowled. "Time to spill the beans."

"You're out of line here, Armory." Elite frowned. "Bordering on insubordination, in fact."

"I don't care." Armory growled. "I don't care if you fire me, I don't care if you deport me back to Germaney, you are going to tell me all about Project: Argo, and just why Black is involved in it. Because I have a feeling Black has no idea he's in it at all."

"Well, that's all well and good, but we aren't telling you crap!" Ballista glared. "Now why don't you run along and forget all about what you just read?"

"I won't!" Armory snarled, as he glared at Elite. "You promised me, all those years ago, that you and the taskforce were the good guys. Well, if that's true, then explain to me what's going on, right now."

Elite glared back at Armory for a long moment. Then...

"Very well." He sighed. "But don't blame me if you don't like what you hear. When we're done here, you won't know what to think."

The present...

"Whoa, drama bomb." Caboose mused.

"You have no idea." Armory sighed. "What I learned that day changed everything."

"And he means 'everything'." Black nodded. "This is where things really start to go south."

"I had a feeling the other horseshoe was about to drop." Fletcher mused. "I imagine the dark times are about to be unveiled?"

"You have no idea." Black declared.

Author's Note:

"Disintegration" Belongs to The Cure.

Comments

[danick]

So the fall of Black will start

[Grekoy]

7501312 Yep. I'm so excited.