Rimworld: Colony is Magic

by Anotherrandom

Chapter Six: Unbound

Author's Note:

So, here we go again.

Changed the tags to include dark now - approach with caution.

“But why?”

Twilight woke up, her whole body shaking.

The same dream again.

Each time was different, sometimes chaotic, resembling something Discord would conjure, or orderly, how her dreams used to be before being stranded here. It didn't matter; the end was always the same.

She kills one of her friends.

Celestia, the girls, Spike, Cadence. Too many to list. The nightmare repeating time after time.

Different faces, the same look of betrayal.

She laid there, motionless, breathing deeply, listening to the sound of her heart beating like possessed drums.

The man with the red beret was always there, with a smirk, the smell of tobacco, and a terrible command.

Twilight willed herself to move, stretching her aching muscles, joints popping.

The room was dark, her horn lighting up to provide her with sight.

One bed, an end table, a dresser and no windows.

She was glad she got her room back after they built proper ammunition storage - but the scent of chemfuel and gunpowder lingered on.

The small bathroom attached to her bedroom was similarly bare, with only a toilet, a sink with a vanity mirror, and nothing else. She quickly went over her mental checklist. Brush your mane, dress - don't forget the eye patch!

Staring back from the polished surface was Twilight Sparkle, changed.

Barring the obvious scar over her eye and her fur and mane getting longer than she normally let them, there were some subtle changes.

She wouldn't be fat by anypony standards, but the small amount of fat she had before disappeared. A consequence of her now far more active lifestyle. That and Sun Glory’s diet made sure she built muscle instead of a belly.

Her legs were leaner, her flanks were toned - she now looked more like Rainbow Dash than the bookish unicorn from Canterlot. A small plus of wearing what amounted to weights all day. The flak vest and webbing were part of her regular outfit now. The utility of those items was vital, but that didn't change the fact they got cumbersome after stomping around in them all day.

After putting on the lab coat and grabbing her spear, she was ready to go.

The diner was mostly empty, the table already set with food ready. King was sitting alone, picking through his cornflakes.

She acknowledged him with a nod. “Morning.”

“Oh? Ah, good morning, Sparkle.”

Twilight shot a look behind the stove, devoid of its usual occupant. “Sun Glory isn't here?”

King shuddered, “God, I hope not. He had me working like a maniac the last few days. I can't feel my arms anymore.”

The accursed calendar was right there, the only piece of paper in the entire base, and it was used on this abomination. It made her inner bookworm blood boil.

Another day marked with a red X, with writing next to it. Appearing just after the last wave reward dropped.

Twenty champions, twelve troopers, six janissaries and an imperial cataphract.

It seemed like she would get her answers about the empire soon, be it for the better or worse.

“Is he still-”

“Going crazy? Yes, I don't think he hasn't slept since.”

She sat and ate quietly. The food was fine, but nothing compared to the usual masterpieces meant to nourish one's soul and body. These were produced, not crafted. Made alongside the literal stockpile of meals, now frozen and stored. Most unusual, normally he disliked doing exactly that, for both practical personal reasons, as a prepared meal didn't last nearly as long as the raw materials in the event of the freezer failing, and freezing supposedly ruined the taste - something Sun Glory normally took pride in.

“What was he making you work on, anyway?”

“Armor,” King stated simply, sighing heavily. “Flak jackets, flak pants, helmets. We are using all of our plasteel on this. We were lucky with it in the past and had a lot, but we have no way of getting more now. The vein we had before is long gone.”

It painted a very worrying picture in Twilight's head.

“He even had me make a set for you. And it is a great piece, don't get me wrong, but all of that material… I guess he knows what he is doing.”

“Do you know anything about the empire?” Twilight asked. It was a bit out of blue, and she could predict the answer, but she had nothing to lose in not trying it.

“Not much. Advanced, isolationist, feared. They are the main reason most worlds above medieval keep a stockpile of some high-yield weapons for planetary defense, even those who forbid most technology, like the twins' homeworld.”

That… wasn't very helpful. And did nothing to ease her concern.

Sun Glory was hiding something, that was clear as day, exactly what was the question, and she had only one source to fall back on. Very unwilling one that tried his best to avoid the topic.

“I have to go now if someone is looking for me-”

“You be the range,” he interrupted, waving her off.

“Am I so predictable?” she said.

“I mean, you do like your schedules.”

She went to the doors, stopping when she heard King calling from his place at the table, not raising his head away from the uneaten breakfast.

“Sparkles.”

“Yes?”

“Good luck.”

Thwack!

The figurine shook with the force of the impact, splinters flew off, eyes locked on the target, blows landing fast, the tempo speeding up.

Thwack! Thwack! Wham!

Dawn buzzed loudly, as if it was screaming at its holder, who ignored its warning and continued his onslaught on the practice target.

“Traitor! Betrayer!”

Thwack! Thwack! Wham!

Slicing the figurine apart more and more, an arm fell off, then the head. His blood was on fire, melted iron in his veins. Everything turned red.

“The punishment is death.”

Screams filled his head, the shrieks of brothers dead. Death throes of foes slain. Bellows of monsters and machines. Smoke as black as the void, ground turning to ash, the very sky set aflame.

Wails of the-

“Sun Glory!”

He stopped, pulled back to reality. The sword purring in his shaking hand. Emotion coming out of his weapon though the psychic field, sending him reeling.

Dawn was scared.

“I've been calling you for the past five minutes,” Twilight said, hooves tapping on the ground, worry laid thick in her voice and posture.

“I-I,” words were getting stuck in his throat, sweat pouring from him. Regain control. Shoulders straight, head high. Pain shall not conquer me. “Apologies. I may have been a little out of it.”

The figurine behind him finally gave up and collapsed into a pile.

“A little,” Twilight deadpanned.

“Ehm, yes?”

His eyes were puffy, skin clammy, flies swarming around him - no matter how hard he tried to swat them away.

“Sun Glory, everyone is worried about you.”

He laughed, the sound wasn't pretty, throaty and strained, his expression softened seeing Twilight expression. “I’m doing alright, considering everything, truly.”

“Alright? Alright?! You are falling apart!” she yelled. “You don't sleep, you don't eat, you just keep going and going!”

“Twilight-”

She didn't stop.

“You are hurting yourself Sun, please, listen to me. Rest, take a minute, heal. A day, that's all I'm asking.”

He stood still, pained breaths leaving him. “I'm sorry, but I can't. Not yet”

“Why?”
One word, for a second, he felt his resolve breaking. But it couldn't be.

“Because someone has to,” was the reply. To Twilight, to the world, to the absent god and uncaring universe. “Now, draw. We have training to do."

Twilight walked to work slowly, sore and slightly bruised. Despite his apparent unwellness, Sun Glory still packed a punch and did not hold back during practice.

Her effort at making him slow down was for naught. She saw the signs before on Applejack. Too stubborn to stop and get help. But she felt there was a more serious issue than a misplaced sense of pride. Something more sinister. The last wave not arriving at all put all of them on edge, she supposed. But Sun Glory? The second he saw what the next wave was…

Even before, he was hiding things from them, avoiding any mentions of his past. But now? It was worse than ever before. Even she, as the newest arrival, could see it.

“Howdy Twilight.”

Knight was harvesting the field, a basket full of maize under his arm. “How did it go? Did you talk any sense into that thick head?”

“Ugh!” She puffed. "He didn't listen. Again!”

“Well,” he continued, gathering the ears of corn by hand. Pull and twist. Pull and twist. “That's Sun for you, stubborn, even if it is the last thing he is going to do. Too bad.”

“You don't seem to be terribly concerned,” she said, eyeing the human, who just shrugged.

“Nah, It's Sun Glory.” He wiped his sweat with the sleeve of his duster. “Whatever is bringing him down will pass, and he is going to spring back up, and then probably apologize for not cooking for us properly or some shit. We just need to be there to pick him up when it happens.”

“You sure? It seems pretty bad.”

He put the basket down, fields swaying gently in the breeze.

“Lets be real. What isn't around here? That's kinda how this whole place operates, drama and all of that crap.”

True enough. And it wasn't like she had other options, at least for now.

“Hey, eh, you walk kinda funny, ya, okay?”

The human walked to her and bent down.

Sometimes, she forgot just how much bigger humans were to her, but then she would try to keep eye contact and her neck would start to hurt.

“Show me your hoof.”

She raised a brow at that, but showed him her front leg.

The desert wasn't kind to her; the hoof was chipped, shallow cracks showing in places, but the only medic here had very little training on his own species, and was no good when it came to her hoofs.

“Yup, that needs to be trimmed.”

The signs were plain to see, obvious to anypony, but that was the catch. Anypony.

“How do you know anything about hoofcare? From where?”

“I'm a farm boy, remember? We got horses, not that different from you. Just bigger. And less purple. And not psychic. So not that similar at all, actually. But hey, they do have hoofs and I had to know how to care for them. Besides, what other alternatives do you have?”

Twilight looked at her hooves and then back at the human. It would be pretty hypocritical of her to not accept help, when right now, her efforts were to make somehuman do exactly that. And letting the situation fester could have horrible consequences down the line. More so, she got very fortunate that on a planet full of hoofless bipeds; she found one capable of helping her.

For most ponies, their own hoof care was more than enough to keep their hooves in good shape, but for those doing heavy labor, the care was much more extensive, more so with a pony like her, normally not that active suddenly thrust into work. And in case of an injury, well… It would be bad. Very bad. She used to rely on magic in the past. A weakness showing now - any of the more complex spell matrices, even the low-powered ones, failed almost immediately in a low magic environment. No spell for fixing chipped hooves now.

So that he knew at least something about it, even if from some other species of hoofed animal, could turn into a lifesaver later.

On the other hoof, how much does she trust an alien, more so Knight, to understand the intricacies of hooficure?

“Great, now let me grab some stuff from the workshop. I will be done in a jiffy.”

The workshop returned to the state of chaos it was before her intervention, as it is a known fact that all workshops gravitate towards disarray the moment anyone needs to use them.

King was already there, snoozing at the machining table, unfinished creations scattered on the surrounding floor.

“What? Who goes there?” he said, waking from his nap.

“Don't mind me, I'm just burrowing these.”

He opened a drawer and dutifully cleaned every item he gathered for his task. Pincers, a rasp and a…hooked knife? Maybe this wasn't a good idea. “Do you really know what you are doing?”

“More or less. I'm no farrier, but I have done it before. The worst thing happens, we turn you into glue.”

But against her expectations, the process didn't hurt at all; him being uncharesticaly careful, especially around her frog. It wasn't that much different from the hooficure a pony could get back in Equestria, if a bit rougher, with worse tools.

For him, it was one of the easiest jobs so far, if awkward. The hardest thing was stopping himself from calling her a good girl for her cooperation once or twice.

“Huh, you do know what you are doing.”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I do that most of the time. But people are so shocked when they find out.”

“In my defense,” King chipped in. “You are the same guy who danced on a barricade and got shot.”

“Shut.”

He returned the tools to their place. Which meant, to Twilight's great annoyance, throwing them inside a random drawer. But by his logic, that made it their space by definition.

While she sorted through the tools to find where they belonged, Knight walked to the forge poking the red coals inside.

“Well, anyway, will you want a horseshoe made?”

… How did he know about horseshoes? And why did the program translate them so weirdly?

Horseshoes were an antique concept in the pony society. The last time she recalled them being used was a rebellion in the distant past - not for practicality, but as a symbol of rebelling serfs, who wore them as a protest. Ponies used other kinds of shoes, mostly rural earth ponies for protection and the rich to display wealth, but horseshoes went out of fashion long ago.

It reminded her of other similarities and concepts shared beyond the translation program.

For alien species coming from an entirely different world, most of the plants she saw so far were the same, at least on the surface. Corn, rice, cacti - heck they even knew what a strawberry was, they described them, and they fit the Equestrian ones to a T. And there were even some cultural overlaps, Sun Glory’s chef hat, for example, wouldn't be out of place on a pony cook. What was the chance that two entirely different species developing so many similarities? It couldn't be a coincidence, the chance of all of this occurring naturally was miniscule. So why and how?

“By the way, did you have any luck with Sun?”

King's question brought her thought process to a halt.

“I take that as a no.”

Sigh.

It was like the Applejack situation again, now only with more at stake.

“Oh, yeah, Sparky, I have this for you.”

Riveted together interlocking plates, leaving nothing vital exposed. Shaped to deflect blows. Blue sheen, showing plainly the small fortune of the advanced material he made it from.

Plasteel suit of plate armor.

“Try it, see if everything fits right.”

With the help of her levitation, it didn't take much time - the humans glanced away until she was dressed. She still didn't get it, but then again. Aliens. For all the stuff that was the same, others were utterly bizarre.

It was a different style of plate armor to the ones used commonly by the royal guard, more akin to the suits she saw in the history books, museums and even the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters in the Everfree. Suits made for war, not for patrolling peaceful countryside and looking impressive.

Helmet was included, visored with a sharp-angled muzzle. Hounskull type was much more common with the griffons, and unsurprisingly, diamond dogs, but she could see the utility of extra face protection now… with her one eye.

She should save that joke for later when she returns to Equestria. The look on her friends' faces would be priceless. Especially Princess Celestia. Sadly, she would see only half of it. Yay.

… She really should stop hanging around Knight.

“So?” King asked.

Twilight moved and gave it a quick jog. It did not hamper her movements much, the plates moving like a second skin, but she felt the weight, albeit less than what she would expect. She would definitely be slower like this. Not by that much, but noticeable.

“Its-”

The doors were slammed open, Crown frantically coming through.

“Time to look alive, boys. We have company.”

---

They gathered their weapons and made haste to the killbox, Crown explaining to them as they ran.

“Heard voices from the canyon. People, loads of them.”

Knight handed another full magazine to King. “Yo, you think it is the missing wave?”

“Yeah, obviously,” he nodded as he led the way, “What else it would be?”

Twilight listened. Her own rifle bouncing on its strap, the stock clanking against the metal, the visor of her helmet raised.

The killbox was strengthened from its last failure against the mechanoids. Triple thick walls, turrets and machine-gun nests. Crown turned it into a veritable fortress. The old Betsy was removed and placed away from the middle, replaced with a giant four barreled water cooled monstrosity. King described the design made at first as an anti-air weapon.

He named it Maxim x4.

Most of the killbox was ready, but part was still under construction. Bricks and sandbags abandoned where Crown left them when he went to get help.

Sun Glory and Lilith were already waiting for them, looking at the small black spots in the distance, but getting larger by the moment.

“Good, everyone is here.” His voice carried. Strong, like made of iron. The tremors in his hands were gone. Sword in hand, unflinching and buzzing like a swarm of bees. “Crown, take place on the right. King will take center, and I will hold the entrance with Twilight. Knight left with Lilith. Don't fire until confirmed hostile.”

The unknown threat was getting closer. “Do you think it's the last wave finally arriving?”

There was something strange flashing over his face, but it was gone before she could place it. “No, I doubt it. These have animals. Not battle ones. Camels and muffalos. A caravan.”

Twilight sat down and waited as the traders approached, spear clutched in her front legs.

Humans.

There were about twenty of them, wearing mismatched clothes and armor, from chain mail to flak to a one that was wearing what appeared to be a lighter version of power armor. Their weapons were a similar hot potch, everything from a blunderbuss to knives and submachine guns.

Leading them was a tall woman with red hair, a simple pistol holstered on her hip and a strange, tight skullcap made of strange elastic material on her head.

“Hey! Anyone home?! We come to trade!”

The voice of the mysterious woman was sweet like honey and made Twilight's fur stand. Something was wrong with it, like if it was auto-corrected by a spell to the right pitch.

Sun Glory turned to her, “Hold it here, if things go bad,” he paused for a moment, pointing at the deactivated turrets.

“Don't hesitate.”

He marched, shoulders relaxed, hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

“Greeting-”

“Hello there, handsome,” she fluttered her eyebrows, Sun Glory's stoic face unmoving. “Would you care to browse our stock?”

Quick glance back at the fortifications. “Show me then.”

---

Twilight watched from her perch at the entrance. The caravan went closer as the negotiations continued. Sun sent Crown as a runner to bring back their small supply of silver and a few other items they were willing to sell in exchange for their goods.

Components, some heavy metals. They couldn't afford much.

No books, sadly.

She was glad that she at least had shade, otherwise she would probably boil alive in the plate armor.

“And what is that?”

The caravan leader walked over to her, a smile showing blindingly white teeth. “Is that a dog in plate armor?”

She cleared her throat, the rising dislike of this woman becoming stronger and stronger.

The feeling was hard to place, a gut feeling that she shouldn't trust this woman.

“Ehm, I’m a pony actually,” she tried.

“And it speaks!”

Okay, that's just insulting. And no way to treat a new pony you meet. Being stranded on a hostile planet is no excuse for rudeness!

Give her a chance, Twilight. Maybe she just had a bad day?

“I think I want to buy it.”

… Note to self, ask Knight about human insults.

“She is not for sale.”

Sun Glory's voice was stern, his patience with the woman running out fast.

“Buzz kill.”

Twilight questioned this. She would expect him to be more… diplomatic, but he seemed almost hostile to the traders, glaring at them openly. The rest of the colonists were not much better, reaching for their weapons, fingers on the trigger guards.

Knight spitting on the ground in disgust.

Did the few remarks really anger them so much? It was rude, yes, but-

Not all the traders were armed, a few were in the back, covering behind the animals. Filthy and scrawny.

In chains with collars around their neck.

Slaves.

They were trading with slavers.

Something snapped.

It stood against everything she believed in. Against harmony, against decency. It shouldn't be allowed, it couldn't be allowed. It had to be stopped.

“Let them go,” Twilight spoke, head lowered, horn aimed at the traders, who laughed in reaction.

“Look at it, how cute,” the red-haired slaver went closer, finger outstretched as to boop her nose, stopped by the presence of Dawn, chain spinning, hissing like a cat. The woman tried to point it away, but the sword didn't sway, staying between her and the slave-holder. “Wouldn't you reconsider? Five thousand for it. Seems fair, hmm?”

The rest of the colonists were witnessing it from their positions, guns aimed at the traders, who drew their weapons in response.

“No,” was the simple response.

“Shame,” she said, voice still sweet, leaning closer to Sun’s stoic face. “Train it better. I can give you a few tips.”

“I said let them go!” Twilight growled, spear levitating beside her. The bewildered slavers stepping back, their leaders flashing a wide smile. “Those are people, not your property!”

“Tsk tsk, what bad manners you have,” the slaver than noticed the levitating weapon, her eyes widening, “A psychic.”

“Twilight, back off,” Sun Glory ordered with a voice like steel. “This is not our fight to pick.”

The red-haired slaver gave a quick nod to one of her underlings, a bald giant with a scarred face and bionic limb.

She scratched her chin, a playful smile on her sharp features. “I think,” she said, raising her hand. “I think I am taking it with me.”

A snap of fingers and everything turned into hell.

The air around Twilight shimmered, reality bending around the unicorn, light itself breaking like a shattered mirror.

Before she could react, she was teleported.

Into the middle of the slavers caravan.

“Twilight!!!” She heard someone scream, but the voice was immediately drawn out in a torrent of gunfire, as the slavers opened fire, with the colonist not answering in kind.

She was in the way.

Her horn alight, spell reading - get back to the gate, but she was interrupted by one of the enemies striking her in with the butt of his rifle, disturbing her cast.

Visor fell on her muzzle, vision obscured by it and her lack of a second eye. Blows coming from all sides, kicks and punches. Noise from behind, sound of breaking bones and barking orders from the woman - panicked, accompanied by the sound of something ripping and a blood-curdling scream.

Withstand, help is on the way.

Training guiding her motions, she led the spear with her levitation, slashing and stabbing, creating space around her. Her foes took a step back. Wild motions, leaving her open, but the rush of adrenalin pushed her into a state beyond rationality.

Capture the initiative, hold it for your dear life.

Terrified, frightened and encircled, she lashed out, striking at the closest foe.

One of them, armed with an ax, tried to get close and parry, but the much nimbler levitated weapon just went around, burying itself in his armpit.

She did as she drilled. Stab, twist, get it out.

The wounded man opened his mouth, grasping emptily for oxygen, failing to a fetal position, hands ineffectually trying to stop blood from escaping from the hole in his body.

“You bitch!” the slaver yelled, his autopistol catching her in the side, armor blocking the shot from coming through, padding under the plates, stopping it from becoming anything more than a slight bruise.

More of them lining up their shots.

Twilight turned, armored hooves thundering on the sand, charging the shooter and hitting him full force in the legs with the full weight of her body behind the tackle, using the autopistol wielding slaver as a meat shield from a hail of bullets incoming her way, the slaver thrashing with as each of them hit.

There was no time for thinking, for contemplation and horror. She had to act and act fast.

The slavers gave up on capturing her, aiming to kill.

Duck.

Twilight landed on the floor, a javelin flying above her head.

Push.

Horn swelled with power, the nearest enemy held in place by invisible force.

Slash.

The edge of the spear turned into a blur, cutting the slaver in the abdomen, making him scream out in agony.

An impact, her vision was filled with little stars, head hurting. Something picked her up, then threw her back down, the world exploding in pain, losing the grip on her weapon.

The giant man from before punched her again, his bionic claw tearing at the plates, sadistic glee in his eyes as he grabbed her by the neck, squeezing the life out of her.

“Time to die.”

No—Must—Reach—The—Spear—

Something touched her mind, a presence nearby, reaching to her. A streak of white and gold.

Just—More—Magic.

Buzzing like a swarm of hornets on fire, Dawn arrived.

The chain sword cut through the man's arm, severing it clean off. Twilight's pain washed away, the fear vanished. Leaving Twilight with only ice-cold rage, not fully her own.

The man looked in horror on his stump, but she never gave him the chance to scream, the blade burying itself into his chest, eviscerating everything on its way.

His face changed, the glee turning to shock, then to fear, body going stiff, failing to the floor.

She had to move.

Twilight got back up, spear and sword now in tandem. She felt faster, more aware, yet not in control.

Acting on muscle memory. Like watching a stranger.

Everything was in stark detail. Droplets of crimson on the chain sword, the smell of iron in the air, the screams and the gunfire as her friend returned fire. The enemies around her, the bodies on the ground.

Sun Glory fought like a man possessed, his mechanical hand a weapon enough for him, tearing and ripping, dislocating a man's hand, breaking a leg with a kick.

A shotgun blast hit his back, a laughable attempt against his power armor. In a second, that poor sod was done, chest collapsed by a single punch. Left crumbling, bleeding out on the floor.

Twilight joined Sun Glory’s side, back to back.

There were still many of them. Gate was shut, rattling as Knight tried to force it open, cursing and swearing as he did.

Stuck.

“Drop your weapons, now! Let the captives go!” Twilight yelled, her friends on the walls no longer blocked by them from firing without risking hitting them. The advantage now on their side.

“We still have you three to one,” the red hair smirked, but it was a mask slipping off. Gaze focused on the chain sword, true fear seeping through.

Sun Glory took a step forward, Dawn seemingly by itself landing in his hand. Blade bloodied, lines of gold shining through. “You are a fool to think that will matter.”

He was right, and she knew it.

They had no gun powerful enough to punch through the plasteel plates. Had no one strong enough to get them in the melee, and if she attempted to cast anything, the colonists behind the mounted machine guns on the wall would turn her into swiss cheese.

Even so, the leader smirked. A spark behind those hateful eyes. “Okay, big guy, you got us." A gesture to those remaining slave traders, guns lowering, dropping on the ground. "Take’em. But remember,” Twilight had to give credit where credit was due, to speak so casually while putting so much poison into her voice, each word dripping with venom. “There will be consequences for this.”

"Then also remember that you are escaping with your life at our mercy. Run, flee and never. Ever. Come back."

Relenting, the slavers fled, carrying their wounded and leaving behind their animal's and comrades. The leader giving one last mock bow before vanishing into the canyon.

They have won. Sun was giving her a disapproving glare, her fur was stained with blood and her stomach was churning, but she did it. She freed the slaves.

She trotted over to the captives, clad in dirty rags, hands tied - hiding behind a carcass of a caravan animal, huddling together and shaking like leaves in a thunderstorm. “It's okay now. You are safe.”

They shot her a look. A girl, not more than a mere child, tears running down her cheek, hair a mess of dirt and filth, recoiling from her as she approached.

“Twilight,” Sun said something, but she didn't listen. She had to help them. She had to. If not, all of… this. For naughts. It could not be. It wasn't right.

“Shhh it's okay, we are not going to hurt you,” her voice gentle, as much as she managed with how dry her mouth had become.

Beeb.

What was that?

A noise, coming from the bulky collars on them. Wailing coming from the slaves, the little girl with a saddened, resigned look. Teal eyes boring into hers. A sigh.

Beeb.

“TWILIGHT!”

Beep

Something pushing her, a hand impossibly cold and strong, showing her away from the slaves.

Explosion, ripping through the air, ears ringing. Force. A solid wall on her body, feeling like being kicked all over everything at once. A wave of intense heat stopped by something heavy landing on her.

Twilight got up, the entire world out of focus.

Sun Glory, standing. Holding her. Mouth moving, no world leaving his lips. At least none heard. Her mind was fuzzy. What just happened?

The slaves were behind him.

What was left of them.

“Twilight, don't move! Knight, open the damn door and bring-”

Twilight Sparkle did not care, nor did she hear. She was busy staring emptily at the result of the collars detonating around the captives necks.

Twilight Sparkle started crying.

Comments

[StarzGecko]

Ah man, she could had use her magic to save them... that is rough

[Roran Dreamon]

Another thing about RimWorld, people die like flies and in droves along with their skins being made into legendary dusters, cowboy hats and comfort chairs. And also that there needs to be a rat army with the occasional man hunter thrumbo