Shine Of The Silver Sun

by Nameless Narrator

Hit Hard: Field Trip III

The steel hatch closed above the four of them after Bubbles, as the last one, jumped down into the sewers instead of using the ladder like the others. She was hoping getting used to the smell would be like ripping off a bandaid, easier if done in one go. It wasn't.

With daylight being blocked off completely by a Royal Guard shutting them in, Bubbles just sat down on the concrete walkway while making quiet 'hurk!' noises as she fought the nausea.

"Yeah, maybe it would have been a better idea to use the bandannas outside," Cromach's voice pierced the pitch darkness, "Now, one... two... three..."

Soft blue glow gradually appeared from a crystal hanging around the griffon's neck. It wasn't a torchlight, but it was at least something.

"Just rub them," Cromach pointed to the same necklaces around the necks of everyone. Two more of the magical light sources chased away the darkness, "Bubbles?"

"Bluh-" the mare made an uneasy noise, "Hrrrgg..."

Cromach walked over, pulling a dark green bandanna and wrapping it around Bubble's muzzle, tying it behind her neck. The piece of cloth was enchanted to allow breathing, talking, and block the worst of the smell.

"Haaaah! Haaaaah!" she started taking huge lungfuls of air, rubbing her crystal to create the final source of light, "Thank... you... sir..."

"I was hoping you wouldn't take it that bad. Now give me yours."

"Mhm," she pulled her protective equipment out of her saddlebag and presented it to the griffon who had given her his one. Several seconds later, everyone was suited up and looking around.

"And the last thing -yes I do realize I should have told you all this before we went down, but hey, call it a practical experience- are these!" he pulled out a pencil-sized, black metal stick with glass tip, pushed the button on the other end, and the stick's bright light illuminated a huge chunk of the tunnel ahead. It was a very compact but powerful flashlight, "Since we don't have a mage with us and lasting magical equipment is kinda expensive, I decided to use some experimental Black Ops equipment I was sent from the Griffon Empire for testing. These are simple flashlights, but on smaller scale and more powerful with special bulbs which aren't supposed to blind you accidentally. We'll see how the batteries hold as well. That being said, if we meet something unsavory, just push the button quickly three times and it'll turn to an extremely focused spotlight. They call it laser or something. It's not damaging, but you'll pretty much blind anyone you point it at. Likely permanently, so be careful."

In the hotel, Cromach had simply given them three bags of what looked like trinkets with the words 'I will explain on the way'. Unfortunately, he'd spent most of the time studying a particular scroll and only now had the time to show them what everything did. The bandannas, the crystal necklaces, the flashlights.

"Sir, all the Royal Guards," Anvil nodded to the closed hatch, "Why aren't they down here searching with us?"

Cromach, pointing his flashlight at his scroll, rolled it back up and put it into a steel tubular case. He waved at them to follow him, and started walking down the now brightly illuminated tunnel. The sewers were simple - tunnels with two concrete walkways, about three-ponies wide, on each side with the sewage flowing inbetween. Anvil thought she might, with some luck, jump over to the other side if necessary, but the river of mess was too disgusting to test it out without a real reason.

"The guards don't have much information to go on. They know where the janitors and sewer maintenance technicians got lost, but the complex spans the whole city and whatever or whoever got them can be anywhere. On top of that, the tunnels are connected with old mining shafts inside Canterlot mountain and that complex is even more expansive. It is even completely possible that the graverobbers and the missing ponies are completely unrelated, and that the janitors just took a wrong step somewhere, drowned in the sewage, and their bodies floated to the lower Canterlot sewers which is why they haven't been found."

"Okay, so they've been investigating these disappearances for days, weeks, and they haven't found nothing. How are we supposed to be more successful?" Anvil asked. Normally, she would go with her usual sarcasm, but she believed the griffon wouldn't have asked them to come on a completely blind chase. If he had, her opinion of him would drop drastically.

"Well, having contacts within the castle is a good idea when you need to sift through all documents without authorization," he grinned, waving his scroll case meaningfully, "I did some digging and discovered that there is a small complex of mine tunnels supposedly walled off from the section of the sewers where all the disappearances happened. The mine operations and the reason for their stopping is a secret, sort of. If Connie were here, she would have explained it better."

"Umm, what did the miners wake up?" Astray asked carefully.

"It's not like that, but close," Cromach answered approvingly, "If you really want to know, ask Connie when we get back. She heard them."

"You know, I'm not much of a reader but back in the Crystal Empire orphanage they sometimes showed us a horror movie. Whenever somepony said something like 'them' or 'beyond the veil' in it, it was time to write off the hindmost member of the exploring group."

Everypony looked at Bubbles, trailing in the back behind Astray, who gulped and pointed her spotlight into the dark tunnel behind her. Nothing but squelching sewage.

"Think of it like this," Cromach turned forward, leading the group again through the complex, "I have no doubt you've been told what happened to me and Connie in Canterlot. The ones who stole certain magical items from the ceremony were a necromancer and his undead servant. These items -rings, to be precise- were supposed to be given to an engaging noble couple, previous members of the Order special team and good friends of both me and Connie. If we find the thieves down here and bring them to justice, or kill them, I'm not picky after almost getting turned into roasted chicken by the unicorn, Connie will surely forget all her problems with any of you immediately. She might even stop going crazy with the... unique training schedule she made up for you."

"Mister Cromach?" Bubbles squeaked from the back, head still spinning around like a turntable to avoid any chance of being forcibly 'disappeared', "The bandannas are super nice, can I get one at home?"

"Come on," Anvil grinned, "Astray doesn't smell that bad," she scrunched her muzzle, looking at the flowing river of waste, "Although it's too close for comfort sometimes."

"Well it has to be me, right?" the satyr answered cheerfully, "Our sweet fresh flower Anvil here always smells like spring meadow full of daisies, joy, and pure unbridled happiness and optimism."

"I- you- how dare- hhrrrng!" Anvil crossed her arms, breathing out sharply as everyone started laughing.

"Good one, finally asserting your place as the man of the team, eh?" Cromach winked at Astray, further fueling the fire.

"Well, I-" Astray started and shut up. Anvil wasn't staring daggers, she was shooting the satyr a vast array of longswords, halberds, and possibly targeting a tactical nuclear strike. Astray took a deep breath, "No, sir. I honestly believe that the real man of the group is Anvil and will always be."

"Heh, good of you to finally realize-HEY!" the minotaur's expression turned from smug to shock in a fraction of a second.

"Ooooh boy," Cromach wiped away a tear of laughter, "Yep, you three will be juuust fine."

They kept on walking in silence, each one for different reason though. Cromach was trying his best to navigate through the web of tunnels where he'd never been before. Anvil was entertaining the idea that dual-wielding Astray's ripped off legs might make for a fun combat style. Astray, now dreading the time when he would be alone with Anvil, was hoping whatever enemy was down here would take him as well. And Bubbles, big ears perked up to catch any noise of the mysterious 'them', was still uneasy after being told what happens to the ponies in the back.

Passing another ladder and hatch leading up into the real world, Anvil asked:

"Why did we start this far away from our destination?"

"It's a standard mage practice to put alarm spells on objects in the area where they live. These spells are quite subtle and difficult to detect, but the most common versions can be used only on things like doors, hatches, windows, and so on. It's like an electric circuit and the closed entrances work like switches. Open any single one, the encompassing spell will make sure the caster knows. Of course, it's quite likely that there will be multiple alarm spells scattered all over the walls and walkways, but those have to be recast every so often and each new persistent spell drains the caster's concentration and magic."

"How about rituals and runes?" Anvil asked, "Those don't need anyone to keep concetrating on them."

"Indeed," Cromach nodded approvingly, "But ritual marks and scratches in the floor or walls are something we can notice. So, if you haven't been watching for any unusual symbols around, keep your eyes peeled."

After another fifteen minutes, the group entered a vast, circular room where multiple streams of flowing sewage joined together into a waterfall ending deep under them. The walkway turned from concrete to steel grating leading along the walls. Anvil tested with few stomps whether the new path would hold her, and it looked like both the new 'floor' and railings were safe, solid, and well made. After reading the Power Ponies comic, she sort of expected having to climb, jump, and run over rickety structures, but this place was an excellent feat of architecture.

Cromach's Black Ops spotlights worked wonders, reaching deep down to the bottom of the room. However, no amount of exploration showed anything particularly out of place.

"Hmmm," Cromach whispered, "Nothing here. The old entrance to the mines should be..." he unrolled his map scroll again, looked around at the circle of tunnel mouths, and pointed at one, "That way."

His quiet voice relayed a clear message that sneakiness would be a virtue from this point onward. No jokes, no conversation, only mission. It didn't last long, though. The tunnel they entered was short, reaching a dead end only after some twenty pony lengths. The only way other than back was a fairly narrow pipe leading straight up. Anvil pondered for a second whether or not forcefully shoving Astray inside would be fun, but the pipe was barely thin enough for a small pony, much less a satyr. She didn't want to waste the energy.

"The mine entrance is supposed to be here, but none of the brickwork seems new or different," Cromach turned his map around few times, "Nope, we're definitely in the right place."

"Perhaps the tunnel's been rebuilt since the time your blueprint was drawn," Anvil took a guess, "It the mines aren't used anymore, there is no reason for anyone to wander there by accident. Maybe that's why the Royal Guards didn't go after the clue you've found."

"Something smells weird," Bubbles mumbled.

"We're still in the sewers, dummy," Anvil patted her head.

"No, this is different. Faint, but it smells like my mom's private workroom. I wasn't allowed there. I tried to open it once on accident when I got lost. Heck, did she beat me up..."

"Hmmm, a crazy demonologist's private laboratory, you say?" Cromach sniffed the air, He couldn't smell anything, but in the end he wasn't the one almost getting knocked out by any strong and sharp scent. Snapping his talons, he started pushing against random bricks in the walls.

"What are you doing, sir?" Astray gave him a quizzical look.

"Just checking if some part of the tunnel isn't an illusion or something. Help me, will you?"

Astray and Cromach took one side of the tunnel while Anvil nad Bubbles found the nearest bridge over the dirty trough and took the other.

Soft grinding of stones under his palms accompanied Astray pushing against a wall near the end of the tunnel.

"I think I found something," he whispered, letting go and kicking a bottom part of the wall with his hoof. Another brick slid aside with only a little resistance, revealing a small hole.

Anvil rushed over while Bubbles simply gripped the endge of the other walkway with her claws, tensed her hind legs, and launched herself over the trough, landing surprisingly quietly next to Astray. Being the smallest, she pressed her muzzle against the hole and took a deep whiff. A second later she covered her mouth with her forelegs, rolling away and whimpering quietly. The enchanted bandanna kept her from throwing up, but the surprisingly heavy and sickly sweet smell hit the half-demon hard. Cromach carefully leaned down to the hole as well, sniffing.

"Rotting corpses," was his barely audible voice, "We might be onto something."

"Up for some knock knock jokes?" Anvil grinned evilly, cracking her knuckles and reaching for the two-handed mace on her back.

"Up for a lightning bolt to the face?" Cromach hissed back at her, "You can't be reckless when dealing with wizards, especially those who can steal your soul and enslave it for eternity," he nodded to Astray, "Help me disassemble the wall, there seems to be no mortar holding the bricks together."

Carefully, the two broke through the wall into a much larger tunnel carved into solid stone propped with wooden beams on the sides while Bubbles recovered from the shock and Anvil covered their backs. The faint smell quickly turned into a foul stench all around.

"Well hello there," the griffon smiled and pointed at the stone floor, but his gaze hardened, "Disturbed dust, hoofprints. Somepony was here recently, and unless there is another access path," he looked at the map, "which there is, hmph, they must have levitated the corpse or corpses on the way. How are you holding up?"

"Hurk!" Bubbles was scowling, pressing her bandanna tighter against her nose.

"It's... disgusting..." Astray was doing the same, legs shaking.

"There must be a lot," Anvil gripped her warmace tighter. She wasn't giving away any real tells about her state, but her eyes darting all over the place betrayed nerves at work, "How can you ignore all that?"

"I've been in a Black Ops desert hideout where all operatives turned into Nightmare-controlled zombies. That place was much smaller, hallways much narrower. We burned them and they still rose up. Do you think this is bad? Try adding charred flesh, bones, gunpowder, and the sight of half-rotten half-burned immortal elite griffon soldiers rising back up to turn you into one of them. This is nothing."

Anvil wanted to say something, but saw the thousand-mile stare of the griffon and shut up. For the first time she believed she was in over her head. Cromach recovered and waved his foreleg towards the source of the smell.

Much like at the conflux of the sewer tunnels, the mine shaft opened into a large, spacey cavern. By the time the group got there, they got used to the more and more encompassing stench. However, as their flashlights reflected off of a towering and buzzing pile in the middle, it became all too much. Corpses upon pony corpses lay there, some untouched and some in poorly sown-together pieces. Fat white worms wiggled at the base of the dead mass while flies buzzed all around. Even Cromach froze at the sheer scale of the stockpiled desecration. The others, however, took it much worse.

Tears welled up in Bubbles' eyes accompanied by vomit in her mouth. Her legs failed her, and she started throwing up uncontrollably, the stress of everything finally bearing down on her. Astray fell down on his backside, pointing towards the wriggling mass, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing silently, and trembling. Only Anvil moved quickly, turning her back to Cromach's and covering his blind spots. She knew she would meet the empty, rotting eyes of the dead ponies again in her sleep, but that was for later. Now her instincts flared up, and she needed to make sure no one under her protection joined the already gone.

Thankfully, the grim hill remained just a hill while Cromach hugged Bubbles, wiping her mouth and stroking her mane. It didn't shift or anything even as he helped Astray get back up on his shaky hooves.

"Breathe deeply. I know it's disgusting but you need to breathe, guys," the griffon whispered. Several gagging fits from Bubbles later, the group's terror was slightly offset by the growing rage aimed at the unknown criminal who made this atrocity.

"Why would anypony do this?" Astray asked, circling the pile alongside Cromach.

"I don't know too much about dark magic," Cromach shrugged, "What I do know is that most of these ponies come from unearthed graves. If this crazy amount of ponies were killed, especially here within Canterlot, even princess Luna would be on the case herself. Look at this," he pointed his talons at a spot where a brown stallion was somehow joined together with the torso of a white mare like a siamese twin, "Some corpses are stitched together, some are fused into one. I can't help thinking that-"

"That this abomination is a single entity?" Astray finished the thought.

"Yeah. Probably some sort of golem, but it's not finished, otherwise it would be chasing us already."

Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap.

"Admiring my pet?" a crackly female voice came from the shadows ahead. Three flashlights -Anvil was still holding her two-handed mace- dispelled the darkness, revealing a sick-looking, thin unicorn mare with light grey coat and white mane. Next to her stood a big, white, bulky thing which at one point might have been a pegasus. Now his flesh was rotting and peeling away in places, his muscular forelegs ended in long, sharp claws, his featherless wingbones sported scythes with enormous reach when he flapped them, bony spikes protruded from his chest ready to impale anything or anyone the pegasus charged at, and his long tail whipped around, covered in spikes as well. A thin streak of black liquid dripped down from his muzzle, each drop sizzling softly on the cavern's floor.

The group fanned out. Anvil and Bubbles at each end of the half-circle.

"Not much of a chat, are you?" the unicorn mare chuckled, "Well, I'm sure I can find a good use for such exquisite specimens like you. I might even make a new flesh golem out of one of you. Wouldn't that be an honor? Old Peggy here is having trouble keeping it together these days. Get it? Cause he's a corpse, HAH! Aaaah, necromancy jokes."

The pegasus flesh golem lunged at Bubbles. His size and rotting shape were deceptive, he was fast. Bubbles jumped to the side, but the golem just opened his mouth, spitting a thick wad of dark goo at her, covering her entire muzzle at once and scattering droplets into her eyes.

"OWOWOWOWOWOW! Aaaaah, bleh!" blinded, she pawed at her face while backing away from the currently invisible enemy. It burned, but she had to wipe the acidic spit off.

Five sharp bones appeared from thin air above the necromancer's head, her foreleg pointed at Anvil who...

...blocked one with her mace, dodged another three with a quick pirouette, took her mace with one hand, and caught the last projectile with the other.

"Meh, Cross is much faster," she called out, shrugging. The enemy mare's face contorted in anger.

"You impudent filth!" the unicorn's horn disappeared momentarily, devouring the light cast by the flashlights, "RISE, MY CREATION! FEEL MY POWER FEED YOU AND RISE!"

Wet squelch resonated through the cavern. The corpse pile moved, rising up into a thick pillar made of ponies joined together. Tentacles made of of legs and entire bodies flailed, throwing aside poorly attached bits and more rotting pieces.

Cromach charged at the furious unicorn through the rain of decaying flesh, stripping his oversized battleaxe from his back. Astray somehow felt the pile's attention shifting towards the griffon, so he unsheathed his longsword, dropped his bag, and started hacking away at the base made of already dead ponies. It was about as effective as he expected, but-

"Above you!"

Anvil's yell was enough to make him roll to the side as a flailing pony tentacle wetly squished at the spot where he'd been standing a second ago. Well, at least the thing was focused on him now.

The pegasus flesh golem noticed Cromach rushing past, ignored Bubbles trying to get the acidic goo off of her, and pounced at the griffon. Crom just saw the blur in his peripheral vision, the edge of his battleaxe crackled with lightning, and he swung the implement heavier than the mace Anvil was using with one foreleg. Burning flesh and ozone joined the concoction of smells as the pegasus was flung aside with sparks still running through his withered coat.

Rising up, Astray failed to notice a smaller tentacle swinging at him from above until it was too late.

"Shi-" he opened his mouth.

CRACK!

The enormous limb made of flesh and bones was misdirected, and it slammed into the ground next to the satyr. Anvil flourished her heavy mace oozing blood after the first blow, heaving it above her head and slamming it down on the tentacle. It just squelched and cracked again, but didn't do much else. She realized her mistake. She needed a heavy and sharp weapon like Cromach had. Heck, even Astray's longsword would be better. She should have been more well-rounded, spent more time switching weapons during training, or maybe just brought a reserve one with her. Then she looked down at the satyr she saved from becoming marmelade and her eyes went wide.

The damn weakling had gotten it right. She hadn't.

Bubbles, face sizzling but sight returning, noticed the dazed flesh golem landing near her after Cromach's single blow. Her training took over, she locked on the pegasus' neck, dashed towards him, and bit down hard. A chunk of the hardened undead flesh disappeared without any resistance, but Bubbles' world turned to red, burning agony as unnaturaly spewing black blood drenched the inside of her mouth, her neck, head, everything.

Bubbles' pained scream made Anvil notice the demonette rolling around, puking her blood mixing with the acid. Beside her, seemingly unbothered by over half of his neck missing, the flesh golem was standing up, head held up by now drastically smaller string of muscles wobbling slightly.

"BUBBLES!" she screamed, blindly rushing to her, distracting the pegasus who gave her a dead stare. Unfortunately, the golem wasn't the only one distracted.

Cromach looked back, giving the necromancer he'd been pressuring and preventing from casting spells a chance to gain some distance. The mare's horn flared, making shadows dance on the cavern's walls and seep into pieces of flesh fallen off the undead pillar. From each bigger scrap, a new pony grew and arose. Slow and dim, but biting and punching anything alive that it could reach.

Astray's wide swing cleared the area around him from the risen zombies. They weren't trying to dodge, just push through. Hacking one's head off and kicking the confused body away, the satyr cleaved through towards incapacitated Bubbles and Anvil delivering crushing blows to the flesh golem. The minotaur was bleeding from dozens of smaller cuts. She was able to occupy the damn thing until the others started rising, and while she could just bat the smaller undead away easily, each time she did that the golem struck like clockwork. It, or he, hadn't been able to land a good strike with its tail or chest spikes, but it was a matter of time because Anvil's blunt weapon simply couldn't hurt it.

Anvil looked around to clear yet another wave of zombie ponies. Her swinging mace knocked the undead from their hooves. She turned back to reflexively knock the golem away again, but was met only with acidic spray covering her front. Roaring in mixed fury and pain, the blinded minotaur flailed her mace wildly while backing away.

Cromach's battleaxe cleanly passed through the necromancer's shield, slicing her chest open. The wound was deep, but not lethal and the mare lurched back, losing focus and control. Then Anvil's loud cry came, making Crom look away yet again to see the trio completely overwhelmed by the smaller undead, the flesh golem, and the pillar slowly but steadily moving towards them and raising its tentacles to smash everyone and everything.

"Heh heh heh," the unicorn gurgled, red blood seeping into her dirty, white coat, "You're not going to last long. But I commend you-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Lightning bolt from nowhere struck the necromancer, sending her on the floor into a twitching and smoldering heap. Cromach desperately wanted to finish her off, his delayed manifestation of divine power not bothering him, but he knew that would take time. Necromancers are hard to kill even when down. He would have to hack her head off, then dismember the body, and then possibly set it on fire. If he did that, the undead would drop, but in the meantime so would Crom's recruits. Nevermind, now that they knew where this den of evil was, the Royal Guard could dispatch units to deal with it later, or at least the corpse pile which the necromancer wouldn't be able to move in a hurry.

He turned his back to the mage and ran back through the cavern to regroup with the others. A hiss of magic was his only warning, but his reflexes honed by fight with gods and their avatars saved him from a barrage of icy spikes coming from the rising and fuming mare. What did help was that she couldn't control, at least temporarily, the smaller zombies which now just stood there, swaying. Unfortunately, the golem and the pile were insurmountable resistance for the newbies.

"Hey, birdface!" Astray yelled at the pegasus golem, kicking a confused zombie at him. Then he heard the squelching behind him and knew, having been subjected to this twice already, that the slow pillar was close enough to raise one of its largest tentacles and swing down.

"Take a blow for them, take a blow for them..." he mumbled...

...and stopped...

...and lunged to the side.

The flesh golem raised its forelegs, but the massive tentacle was simply too fast and heavy. The shockwave let chunks of flesh loose and sent Astray tumbling away. Underneath the limb, a pool of acidic blood was rapidly spreading and melting both zombies and the tentacle itself.

"Oh fuck no!" Astray cursed, watching the broken golem stand back up through the corpse tendril melting as the black goo poured out of him. Alright, that thing was unstoppable, but it could barely walk now. If he was careful, he might make another tentacle take a swing at the pegasus again.

"WE'RE LEAVING!" screamed Cromach, galloping across the cave, hailstorm of icicles missing him by inches. The necromancer was furious, having thankfully completely forgotten about the others and seeing only the griffon.

"Anvil, Bubbly!" Astray kneeled by the minotaur groaning on the floor, "How bad is it?"

"Ah ahnt olk," Bubbles mumbled, wincing as the air coming form her mouth passed the hurt muzzle. Besides that, it looked like the coat on the front part of her had melted off, leaving only pink skin, but there weren't any serious wounds. She was barely standing, though, having to take unsteady steps every few moments to keep herself from keeling over.

"How do you think I look, moron?" Anvil grumbled, attempting to stand up but failing when her leg gave out.

"Lovely as usual," Astray breathed out in relief. They were still alive. Possibly not for long, but still alive, "Grab my hand," he helped Anvil pull herself up, serving as her crutch as they limped away towards the tunnel they had come through. Swaying Bubbles wobbled behind them.

"Oh what the hell is-OOOOOOOOOOOOW!" Cromach's hind paw slid over the black puddle left behind by the crippled flesh golem, making it splatter over his lower body. Grunting in pain, he pulled himself up.

Too late.

One of the corpse pillar's smaller tentacles landed on him as well. He felt the crunch through his entire body. Adrenaline overdose left his mind crystal-clear, though, and he pulled himself from underneath. His forelegs were fine, every breath hurt, one hind leg was kind of working...

...all in all, Cromach surmised, he could still make it.

His body jerked forward accompanied by a spike of both pain and ice. A stream of sharp icicles aimed by the necromancer dragging her hooves forward step by step but summoning barrage after barrage aimed with her horn, pushed him further and further. Not all hit him. not all were strong enough to penetrate his skin deep, but some were, and what the force of impacts rolled towards the tunnel was more a bleeding lump than a griffon.

"We've got to help him!" Anvil sat up...

...and fell down when she pushed Astray away.

"No, you've got to get out, you stubborn mare, or whatever you minotaurs are called!" Astray argued.

"SHUT UP! I'm going there to get him back, you damn coward!"

Astray shoved her chest down on the floor. Anvil glared at him, unable to push herself up against him.

"See how far you've fallen? You can't even push ME away," Astray leaned to her muzzle, "You've dropped to my level. This is how weak you are now. You can barely carry yourself, much less him. GO!" he let her go, turning to Bubbles, "Drag her away if you have to, just LEAVE! The huge thing can't get through the hole back to the sewers... I hope."

"DON'T YOU DARE ORDER ME AROUND YOU FUCKING FUCKERFUCK! YOU CAN'T LEAVE HIM THERE!" Anvil roared, fighting against Bubbles grasping her arm with her foreleg and starting to pull her down the tunnel.

"Yeah, I know," Astray allowed himself a grim smile, took a deep breath, and ran towards the small heap of one griffon and the enormous moving pile of dead ponies.

"Holy Celestia's sunshine!" he gasped as he approached the griffon who actually gave him a bloodshot stare, dragging himself forwards with one taloned foreleg. The monstrous tenacity of Cromach was beyond anything he'd seen before, and anything reality should allow, but there he was, broken, crushed, bleeding, pierced, but not giving up.

Astray tried to sling the heavy griffon over his shoulder, but it was too much. He knew forcibly dragging the griffon would kill him. Instead, got down on all fours, letting Crom wrap one foreleg around his shoulders, and pulled him forwards. It was agonizingly slow, but the flesh golem couldn't move at all now, last of his bones giving out, the necromancer was exhausted, lying down and watching, only the pillar of flesh was still following them, tentacles swinging around. It could barely fit into the tunnel. Astray had no idea what the necromancer's plan with a thing this big was, but he wasn't going to linger around to find out.

The two reached the broken brick wall of the sewers. There was no way the monster could follow them through. As they got nearer, Astray said:

"Almost there, sir. Almost there."

"Gonna... wait... forever... if... I must... Blaze..." with surprising strength, Cromach pulled himself through the hole, leaving Astray behind. The pile of flesh swung its tentacles just as the satyr pulled himself through. The wall held, and if the subsequent strikes were any indication, it would stay that way.

"Heh... heheh... heheheheheheheheh!" Astray started laughing like crazy. He kept going and going and going. Still alive, after all this still alive.

A warm, wet lick stopped him. He and Cromach were the only ones to lose their bags, everyone lost their scent-protectors, and only now he realized he was clutching his light pen so hard his palm hurt, but Bubbles' tongue on his forehead was the reminder that it wasn't all a dream, that it was real, and that the damn thing was still ineffecively banging on the walls.

"Anvil, grab sir Cromach, please," Astray whispered.

"On it!" she took Astray's sword in one hand, using it as a walking stick, and slung raggedly breathing Cromach carefully over her shoulder. Seeing that, Astray shook his head.

"Monsters... you are all monsters."

Standing back up, he took the sword back and propped Anvil against himself while Bubbles trailed behind. Thankfully, now that they didn't care about getting noticed they took the first ladder out of the sewers, ordered a shocked pony bystander to get a Royal Guard, and in no more than fifteen minutes they all happily passed out on provided emergency stretchers. Good thing Cromach had arranged the perimeter guard equipped with everything needed in case things went south.

Reporting the incident would have to wait. Blissful darkness called.

Comments

[Two_Madmans]

"I've been in a Black Ops desert hideout where all operatives turned into Nightmare-controlled zombies. That place was much smaller, hallways much narrower. We burned them and they still rose up. Do you think this is bad? Try adding charred flesh, bones, gunpowder, and the sight of half-rotten half-burned immortal elite griffon soldiers rising back up to turn you into one of them. This is nothing."

Is that from Thawing the Frozen Heart? I'm sure they was more... freshy for it.