• Published 21st Nov 2020
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The One True King - JDPrime22



Can Equestria’s greatest heroes coexist with these mythical and majestic beasts… or will they have to accept that their rule has come to an end? For the rule of the one true king, Godzilla, has returned.

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Chapter 38 – Rallying Cry

Chapter 38

“Never give in. Never give in. Never, never, never, never—in nothing, great or small, large or petty—never give in, except to convictions of honour and good sense. Never yield to force. Never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy.”

Winston Churchill

Equestria

They came not to conquer.

Though the guise of conquerors were cloaked in their nature and breath, and thus their actions mirrored their appearance, one would believe they of all beasts would seek nothing more but destruction. Or the devilish sin of overthrowing the might of the peaceful world, bringing forth an order set by the hated serpent long thought to be banished. For the great serpent’s monsters had reached the mainland. There was no stopping them. There was no yield to their chaos spread from landscape to settlement, from burning cities to crumbling kingdoms.

But they came not to conquer.

Sire’s Hollow was left as a husk of its former self. Buildings remained in shambles while the very earth itself seemed to be ripped open, mounds of rock and dirt splattered across the town and thus leaving Methuselah’s mark upon his destruction. And the crowning of his destruction was the shovel mounted upon the rubble, a final flag waving the white signal of surrender. Of defeat. With Rockhoof weakly gripping its handle and his body lying in the debris. Alongside Mistmane, both of them still barely alive. Breathing, eyelids twitching open, bodies beaten and bruised, but alive. Alive and defeated.

The smoke from Somnambula would burn forever. The skies to be eternally plagued with that sickening darkness, because she felt no greater guilt than that. Woe and anguish would cry in the lost city of the fallen Pillar of Equestria, for even she fell trying to defend it. She laid in the ruin, crawling slowly but weakly to her friend, to her fellow Pillar Flash Magnus who remained unmoving. With blood on her brow and pain in her spirit, Somnambula reached forth and felt his heart. Felt the beat of life pump weakly through him. A final breath of relief joined her conscious mind as her eyes trailed the small dot on the horizon, her vision fading as the dot only grew smaller. As Behemoth left behind a burning civilization and proceeded to his king.

Chaos and devastation they spread, yet they came not to conquer.

The Queen MUTO was unstoppable in her rampage, no force of T.I.T.A.N. nor will of the resilient ever being enough to bring her to her knees. Whatever army held their ground to stop her only met the power of an enraged queen following what she believed to be her sole purpose from that point onward. She wanted nothing more than to answer the call of the one who set her free. And the king that called her grew nearer by the second, urging her through every thundering step that what she accomplished pleased him. She tore through it all. Tore through Tall Tale, Stratusburg, and made her way further north.

A titanic cephalopod left behind burning ruins, ending lives and collapsing civilizations with every single one she came across. But once Scylla reached Ponyville, she was unable to touch the town on the inside. She was unable to pass through the magical shield, its power preventing her from entering into its hold. Though lusting, yearning for the taste of destruction as her king commanded, she had received new orders not too long ago. She proceeded onward, crossing nothing more on her journey north. Witnessing the Titan leave them alone, Starlight and Sunburst each relinquished a breath of relief, turning to one another and embracing in a quick hug. Thankful that their magic was enough.

Murderous, ravenous, treacherous creatures they were, and they came not to conquer.

Magic collided with the multicolored Titan, Quetzalcoatl shrieking with every burst of exponential power. From the skies, it would have appeared magnificent, witnessing a beast of such epic proportions flying, dodging, and embracing the blasts of magical fury thrown against him. The city of Baltimare watched on with bated breaths, fearful eyes, not even knowing who protected them when all else failed. When T.I.T.A.N.’s aircraft and naval fleet laid burning around the bay, only the few and the brave remained standing.

Mage Meadowbrook took cover as many times as Quetzalcoatl dove down and slashed at her with his talons, the Pillar retaliating with a potion chucked the beast’s way. Stygian was constantly on the move, speaking through his magic and giving his friends all the help they needed to properly battle the beast. It was not the first monster they had clashed with, but it was the first where Stygian was actively involved. Actively leading his friend Star Swirl the Bearded and witnessing the unicorn’s magic fly up with masterful precision and power, and strike the Titan where it hurt.

They were already too far to stop. Having lost a strong portion of her fleet from Baphomet, Tempest Shadow barely survived the next wave of Titans heading her way. She continued to fight despite a heavy majority of her fleet laying decimated across Equestria, choosing instead to take the fight to the next Titan. And the next. Never retreating. Never surrendering. She battled them near Our Town, trying to keep the creatures away from the innocents living there. She fought on through every ship she lost, every final cry she heard, and every order she roared. She held them off. When that didn’t work, she distracted them. When that failed, she fought anyway. Clashing and battling Abaddon, Sekhmet, Bunyip, and any others that crossed her on their way north. Leaving destruction behind, and yet claiming no dominion over their conquests.

For they came not to conquer. Not yet.

Their king had called them for something much more important, leading their charge with his black hole of a hurricane slowly scaling the world north. Consuming the night in a pitch darkness, a black so terrible and so petrifying that one could drown in it. And pray did many of the lives caught under that storm, witnessing the roaring of the thunder and the clashing of the lightning and seeing the Three-Headed Devil within the clouds. Stirring. Writhing. Cackling.

Flying. With his followers joining him in the darkness. With an army not of conquerors, but of warriors rallying behind their king, ready to fight with him for one glorious purpose before the world was finally theirs…

They came for war.

Author's Note:

Artwork by Shrekzilla

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