Chapter 39
Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
March 27th, Gregorian Calendar
The trip was spent in absolute silence. Fyrenn took up the majority of the rear of the vehicle. What little space remained was occupied by Sonya, April, and four guards.
The former spent her time curled into a scowling bundle, directing angry death glares at the guards and Fyrenn by turns, while the latter kept their weapons trained on Fyrenn's head at all times. April opted to spend the trip nestled in the crook of Fyrenn's neck.
Fyrenn maintained constant eye contact with the guards, never once blinking, shifting his gaze each time one of the men broke contact from the strain. By the time the vehicle braked to a complete stop, Fyrenn could tell they were, one and all, shaken.
The door of the vehicle opened out onto a large warehouse space. Fyrenn judged, based on his sense of direction and speed during the trip, that it was located in the north-west of the island.
Minos stepped around the side of the APC and snapped his fingers repeatedly.
"Out. And shed that armor."
Fyrenn offered April an encouraging half-smile, then rose, and strode slowly off the back ramp. He took his time removing the armor, carefully ensuring he undid each cinch and clip with as much wasted effort as possible.
As each piece came off, he stacked it neatly in a pile, pausing every so often to straighten the pile and stretch.
As he finished, Minos sighed, winced, and worked his injured shoulder.
"Do you enjoy being a difficult son of a bitch?"
Fyrenn smiled, and nodded.
"To annoy you? I could enjoy watching paint dry. You know you should watch your language. On the Indianapolis, we used to keep a swear jar..."
Minos waved a hand dismissively.
"We'll see how you feel about the tone of my words after we're finished here," he waved to a pair of guards, "Take the adorable little pukes to the holding cell. And find Squish for me."
Minos began to walk down the length of the enormous space, paused, and gestured to Fyrenn.
"Come along now. You'll like Squish. I think you two could really bond over your love of sadomasochism."
Fyrenn snorted, "Well then you and he must be the best of friends."
Minos shrugged as he approached a large piece of industrial equipment. Fyrenn judged it to be considerably newer than the other detritus littering the space. From what he could tell, it appeared to be a hydraulic press, of the kind used to smooth out raw ingots for the rest of the armor plating process.
Fyrenn raised an eyebrow, and rapped on the side of the machine's large vertical column with one claw.
" 'Squish' huh? I think I can fill in the blanks... But I think I can save you a lot of wasted time and breath. That thing doesn't have enough power to break any of my bones. They use it to roll out flat ingots after the material has been pre-heated and softened."
A new voice joined the conversation, followed by the scraggly form of its owner as he stepped around the side of the machine.
"Yeah, but this here devil will lay down more 'n enough PSI to put you, my feathered friend, in a world o' hurt."
Fyrenn chuckled. The man looked to be in his mid forties. His face was covered with a poorly-shaven beard, and a wide, thick, tangled moustache that had probably not been washed within the calendar year.
The red Gryphon shook his head.
"I've been shot. I've had pieces of bone embedded in parts of me I didn't know could hurt. I had a grenade go off in my face at one point, and I spent a pretty big chunk of my life with the worst migraines you can imagine as a result. Whatever you want me to tell you, I'm not gonna tell you. My rapport with pain probably goes back to before you two even knew how to load a pistol."
Squish gestured to the press, and snickered.
"Lotsa folks say that. I ain't never met one that didn't start to cry uncle when he heard his bones begin to crunch. I'ma thinkin to myself that you bird-brains can't be all that different."
Fyrenn chuckled grimly, narrowing his eyes and taking a step forward. Squish flinched.
"You 'think' wrong."
Minos rolled his eyes, and sighed.
"Alright. Here's how this works. You tell me who else knows about this. Who sent you, why, and what do they know? If I like the answer, you can join your new best friends in the holding tank until I decide how to proceed. If not..."
Squish chuckled, and mimed a pressing action with his hands, making a series of vulgar squelching sounds with his mouth.
Fyrenn sighed, and shook his head once more.
"You don't need to know who sent me, why, or what they know. All you need to know is that if you surrender now, I'll settle for slicing off your legs, gouging out your eyes, and eating your fingers, and then the courts can have you. Either way, if you keep me here, there are a dozen or more high level operators who are expecting me to report in, and they will tear this city apart to its foundations to find me. When they do, they won't be interested in prisoners, if you catch my drift."
Minos gestured to the press, and crossed his arms.
"Put your right wing in."
The Gryphon snorted, and rolled his eyes.
"Make me."
Minos withdrew a hardened DaTab from his jacket, and flicked out the device's large, blocky antenna.
He poised his thumb over the central panel, and jerked his head towards the press.
"Put your right wing into the press Gryphon. I'm out of patience, and your littlest friend is out of chances."
Fyrenn tensed, then glanced down at Squish.
"I'm an honorable fighter. So I think it's fair that you get your first, and last warning; If you start this by putting my wing in that press, then I will end it by putting your head in that press. Understand me?"
Squish chuckled, and threw up his hands.
"Where do you find these jokers Minos?"
The man sighed, and tapped his foot, glaring at Fyrenn.
"Are you so juvenile that you're going to make me count again?"
Fyrenn shook his head, and carefully, with no hesitation, placed his right wing into the press.
"No. But I am just juvenile enough to imagine a great many ways to kill you very, very slowly. And that just because you experiment on children. We haven't even begun to get to the punishment for touching me without permission. That last guy who did that? I ripped one of his arms off, and tied it around his neck like a tourniquet until he died of asphyxiation."
Minos snapped his fingers. Squish shifted to the side, and pressed a series of buttons on the control pad. The press whirred to life, building up immense fluidic pressure in a series of suspended cylinders.
With a sharp hiss, the pressure was transferred to the pressing plate. Fyrenn winced as his wing was compressed harshly into a painfully contorted position.
Minos stepped closer, and leaned in.
"Who sent you, why, and what do they know?"
Fyrenn mustered a slight smile, and grunted, gritting his beak against the pain.
"I'm sorry. All of our operators are busy. We'll need to place you on hold. Please stay on the line. Your displeasure is *very* important to us."
Minos gestured again, and Squish cackled as he depressed several more icons on the control panel's glowing face. The press thrummed again, and contracted several inches.
Fyrenn hissed as he felt several of his bones scrape against one another in a highly unnatural manner. Pain shot down his wing, through the joint, and into his ribs like streaks of lightning.
Minos threw up his hands.
"This is not my fault you know. You could tell me what I need to know, and I could make it stop."
Fyrenn growled.
"I'm sorry, could you repeat the question? I missed it in amongst the idiocy."
Minos glowered, and gestured sharply.
"Again."
Squish chuckled.
"Sure thing boss."
The press shuddered as it met further resistance from Fyrenn's bones. His wing squealed in protest, and the Gryphon couldn't help but let out another loud hiss.
Minos leaned in, and held up his DaTab.
"Who sent you? Why? And What do they know?"
Fyrenn inclined his head slightly, "You had better pray they find us sooner rather than later. For your sake. Because if they don't kill you... I'm going to cut you, like a savory roast. And I'm going to start with your--AAAAAAUUUUUUGGGGGGHHH"
Fyrenn let out something in between an Eagle's screech, and a choked cry of pain, as Minos reached over Squish's shoulder, and depressed the control panel once again.
The sensation was better described as agony; Bones and nerves ground against each other, causing light and sound to explode inside Fyrenn's brain. The nerves that normally gave him such an advantage through their sensitivity to changes in the wind and pressure were now his worst enemy.
He felt as if the right side of his body had been set on fire.
Minos leaned in, and screamed into the Gryphon's face, thrusting the DaTab at him. Spittle flew from the man's mouth as he lost control.
"WHO SENT YOU YOU BASTARD?!?! WHAT DO THEY KNOW?!! WHAT. DO. THEY. KNOW?!?!"
Fyrenn groaned and winced. Words had somehow become a herculean effort.
"You... Know that if you kill one of them... I won't be able to stop myself from killing you... In this state... No matter what the consequences are..."
Minos slammed one fist down on the panel, and the press contracted a final time.
Fyrenn could hear his bones squealing, even over the piercing shriek coming from his beak. The sound was so high pitched, and loud, that Squish fell to the floor, his fingers in his ears, writhing in pain of his own.
Minos fell back and covered his own ears.
Fyrenn wished he could cover his as he heard the loud 'SNAP.'
All he could do was continue to scream.
Aston's head snapped upwards reflexively as she heard the loud rap on her door. Seeing a familiar face through the transparent plexiglass slab, she gestured and glanced back down at her terminal.
"Come on in."
Neyla ducked into the office, and crossed the space between the door and the desk with a miniature bound. Her expression pulled Aston away from her work with the force of its urgency.
The Commander's face wrinkled in concern, and her eyes narrowed.
"You look like you're about to ruin my day."
Neyla scowled, and gestured over her shoulder.
"Fyrenn is missing."
Aston sat back, and folded her arms, mimicking the Gryphon's scowl.
"You mean he hasn't checked in?"
Neyla shook her head adamantly, "It is coming up on midnight. I made sure he understood, before he left, that he needed to check in, the same as every other operational fire-team, at five hour intervals. His last check-in was seven hours ago."
The Commander's eyes narrowed again, and she jerked a thumb at her sliver of a window.
"You sure he isn't radio-silent for a good reason? He told me his tasking was strictly off-books, so is it really that surprising if he has to go quiet for a little while?"
Neyla shook her head once more, and flared her wings reflexively in agitation.
"He hasn't missed a single check-in before this point. In three days of work. He never said anything about going... What is the phrase... 'Off-comm,' and he has never remained out this late before. This doesn't *feel* right Commander."
Aston thumped the fingers of her right hand against the desk in sequence for several tense moments. At last, she nodded slowly.
"I can't spare a lot of people, not at this stage... You can have twelve ConSec troopers, and two VTOLs."
Neyla's expression sharpened. Aston held up both hands in a conciliatory gesture.
"I am assuming Kephic and Varan will be with you at the very least, so I'm not offering you anything more. Yet. This place is enough of a disaster area as it is. I can't be hemorrhaging more personnel."
Neyla sighed, and her expression softened. She nodded, and rose to leave. As she pressed the keypad, and the door hissed open, Aston offered a parting word of encouragement.
"Neyla? Make sure he gets home in one piece. It would be a crying shame if I never got the chance to dress him down over this."
The Gryphoness raised an eyebrow.
"You presume there will be anything left to reprimand once *I* am finished with him."
Fyrenn winced, and hissed as one of the guards jostled his right wing. Fire shot down the bones and nerves, triggering a primal release in his head, and his chest.
As he stepped forward into the proffered cell, the Gryphon wrenched backwards sharply with his good wing, hitting home directly in the center of the offending man's visor. The plexiglass shattered, embedding a million tiny shards in the soldier's nose, mouth, and eyes, destroying the latter.
The man screamed, dropping to his knees and clutching as his face. The second guard glowered as Fyrenn stepped into the cell. He slammed the door shut with as much force as he could muster, then knelt to see to his blinded comrade.
Fyrenn listened, stock still, as the screams receded down the corridor. As the sound died out, he collapsed into a heap on the floor, breathing heavily to try and slow his racing heart.
A form shifted, dislodging some concrete shards, and April emerged from the shadows in the room's back left corner.
She stared at Fyrenn's twisted right wing, and winced, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Did... Did they break it?"
Fyrenn let out a small chuckle, and shook his head, inhaling deeply as he tried to catch his breath.
"No, not exactly. They're too stupid to realize that their press isn't powerful enough to overcome the tensile strength of my bones. They dislocated the center joint."
April stepped forward cautiously, and laid one hand delicately on the wing. She withdrew it instantly as Fyrenn winced.
"What does that mean?"
Sonya spoke up from her position in the corner.
"It means it hurts more, but the damage is actually a lot less serious."
Fyrenn nodded, "Right, and right again. It also means you two are drafted."
April's face wrinkled in confusion, and she tilted her head.
Fyrenn gestured to the wing.
"Any way you look at it, I won't be flying for a day or two at least. But right now, the joint is still dislocated. If I leave it that way, it will continue to hurt more, and I risk more serious nerve and bone damage. The sooner it sets, the sooner the healing process begins. And besides, I need to be able to fold it."
April backed away hesitantly.
"I've never set a joint before..."
Sonya rose, and sighed.
"I have. Though never one this big. I'm not sure exactly how it's supposed to lock, so..."
As she trailed off, Fyrenn unfurled his left wing, interjecting quietly.
"Lucky for you, I have a spare."
Sonya reached out hesitantly, and Fyrenn jerked his head towards the joint.
"Go on. I won't bite... Well not you anyhow."
The young girl placed her hand on the feathered surface, hesitantly at first, then with more exploratory vigor. She felt all around the bone and the joint, trying to paint a mental picture of the configuration.
Fyrenn snorted.
"You still think I can't hold my own?"
Sonya rolled her eyes, and continued to probe the bones with her right hand.
"We're stuck in here. They're going to kill us once they find out what they want to know. How have you made our situation any better?"
Fyrenn grinned slightly, and dug in the feathers of his neck with one claw.
"Because when Minos and I had our little heart to heart at the edge of the causeway, I swiped this."
He held up his claw triumphantly, a wafer thin silvery object catching the dim lighting filtering through the door's slight.
"It's an RFID enabled keycard. And I'd wager good money it unlocks that door, and every other one in the building. Right now though, I think we'd best worry about setting this joint. Before I pass out, preferably."
Sonya nodded, and gestured to April.
"Hold this part of the wing. Here, between the center joint, and the shoulder joint."
Fyrenn smiled, and nodded.
"And whatever you do, don't let go. I'm going to squirm. I'm probably going to screech just a little. Don't let go, or we have to start this over again."
April nodded mutely, her face hardening with resolve. Fyrenn gritted his beak as she firmly took hold of the proffered portion of his right wing. His body cried out in protest, but he did his best to silence the warnings.
Sonya inhaled deeply, and held out both hands, as if she were grasping a bowling ball. She grit her teeth, slowed her breathing, and squinted. There was a long pause, and Fyrenn chuckled.
"You'll have to do it the old fashioned way."
Sonya raised an eyebrow, and moved in close to the wing joint, examining it from all angles.
"Why *don't* our amps work on you?"
Fyrenn smiled, breathing heavily.
"Gryphons' cells bear unique properties. They can't be affected in any direct way by magic, or nanotechnology, or certain kinds of EM fields, no matter how powerful the assault. Even beings considered by some to be gods are incapable of altering our form, even in minute ways."
The red Gryphon paused, and inclined his head, wincing as a burst of particularly sharp pain coursed through his wing.
"That... Has its advantages and disadvantages. Case in point. You will have to set me the old fashioned way. And there isn't much they'll be able to give me for pain-killers, antibiotics, or anything to speed the healing process after the fact."
Sonya inclined her head, and grit her teeth once more. Without warning, she snagged hold of the joint, dug in her feet, and pressed hard.
"You should have just left us alone. Then you wouldn't need your wing set, and we wouldn't be dead."
Fyrenn hissed, and choked off a scream as it burbled up in his throat. With a sound midway between a 'snap' and a 'click,' the bones fell back into their proper positions. The pain instantaneously subsided to a dull roar.
Compared to the blinding spears that had been piercing his wing, shoulder, and skull, it was a massive relief. Fyrenn breathed deeply for several seconds, once again bringing his heart rate under control.
He reached out with one claw and worked the edge of the wing gingerly, wincing as he carefully folded it, inch by inch, into a closed position. He paused, sighed, and nodded before continuing.
"I've been dead before. I'm fairly experienced with 'intractable' situations."
April reached down, and grasped the back right part of her pants leg. She yanked hard, tearing off a long strip of the dull gray fabric. Fyrenn smiled at the gesture, and took the length of cloth gingerly. He threaded one end into his beak to hold it temporarily, and used both claws to bind his right wing snugly to his side.
After a long moment, he rose, and stretched, speaking in as up-beat a tone as he could muster.
"Good. Now. First things first. What is this failsafe they keep talking about?"
The sisters exchanged pained glances. A long silence passed before Sonya finally spoke, her voice breaking slightly.
"The same nanomachines that connect our implants to our body... Can be used to---"
Fyrenn held up a claw, and brought her struggling sentence to a halt.
"Do you know anything about the maximum range? Does anyone besides Minos have control over the failsafe?"
April shook her head, and muttered quietly.
"The guards have access to the remote trigger if Minos has set the failsafe. But most of the time they'd be too afraid to use it without a direct order. Minos scares them."
Sonya shrugged, and leaned against the wall, sighing.
"We don't really know anything about range. They weren't exactly nice enough to hand us specifications sheets."
Fyrenn nodded silently, and stared up at the ceiling for a long moment. He began to mumble his thoughts aloud as he paced slowly around the perimeter of the cell.
"The nanites themselves can't possibly fit long-range transponder assemblies, so range is dictated by the transmission equipment on the other end. That means they could send the signal anywhere in the world with the right access codes... But it also means short-range jamming and field disruption could prevent the nanites from ever receiving the signal."
April hugged her knees to her chest, and exhaled slowly.
"We still have to get out of here..."
Fyrenn held up the keycard between a thumb and index talon.
"Walls, ceiling, and floor are solid concrete, and the door looks to be five inches of tritanium. If it's designed to resist telekinesis then it would probably take me a full day, and a lot of bruised tendons to batter my way out. Too many wasted hours. What we need is a way to get this keycard into the locking mechanism on the other side of the door."
The red Gryphon jerked his head towards the thin window slit in the aperture.
"Your arms wouldn't fit through that, much less one of my forelegs. Any bright ideas?"
April stood, and walked slowly to the door. She examined the window slit for several moments, hopping up and down on one foot and tilting her head to get a view of the external locking panel.
At last she turned, and grinned at Fyrenn, holding out one hand. He tossed her the keycard obligingly.
April stretched out both hands, holding them palm up. Accompanied by a dull throb and a whine, the keycard rose from her right hand, and made its way up to the window slit.
Slowly, and smoothly, the thin silver wafer moved laterally out through the window and into the corridor beyond. For several moments, the whine continued. April remained motionless, her eyes squeezed firmly shut, her hands outstretched.
Suddenly there was a soft beep, followed by a loud metallic clanking noise. The door gave way several inches, and the whine of April's telekinetic field evaporated.
Fyrenn smiled, and shook his head slowly, pressing one claw against the door. The portal swung wide.
The red Gryphon chuckled, and ruffled April's hair gently with one claw.
"On the first try? Really? You're making the rest of us look bad."
Sonya peered cautiously around the edge of the door, then glanced back at Fyrenn.
"Well what do you suggest we do now?"
Fyrenn stepped out into the hallway, and turned one ear to listen for approaching footsteps.
"As long as we avoid Minos, we have a window of opportunity. If we can get you two under a jamming umbrella before he realizes what's happening, then it's all over."
April gestured to the opposite end of the hallway.
"Can't we just run?"
Fyrenn shook his head, and sighed.
"Plan A was for me to fly you out. For obvious reasons, I'm in the process of hashing out plan B as we go."
Sonya glared, and folded her arms.
"You mean you don't have a plan?"
Fyrenn rolled his eyes, and snorted.
"I never go anywhere without plan B."
Sonya raised one eyebrow, and twisted her lip in a disapproving expression of incredulity and disdain.
"Enlighten us."
Fyrenn scraped his right talons against the concrete of the floor, creating a shower of sparks, and a series of deep, menacing grooves.
"I like to keep it simple. Move fast, and break things... I prefer to start with skulls."
Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
March 28th, Gregorian Calendar
Neyla paused to tap the transmit button on the side of her helmet, before rising into the air on a series of powerful wing beats.
To her left, the ever-increasing whine of turboprop engines accompanied a pair of light VTOLs as they rose slowly into the pre-dawn gloom.
Further away to the west, on the opposite side of the craft, Varan and Kephic were hovering, silhouetted in profile against the halo of the Conversion Bureau's lights.
Neyla lent her voice added volume to ensure it transmitted clearly.
"I'll take the lower east side. Albatross one will fly up Park Avenue and do a grid-search of the surrounding blocks. Albatross two will handle everything in the north-east quadrant, starting from Lincoln park."
Kephic's voice filtered through the headset, his concern palpable even at a distance.
"Varan and I will split the remainder."
Neyla watched through the cockpit panes as the VTOL pilots both nodded.
"Albatross one, acknowledged."
"Albatross two, understood."
Aston's voice came over the comm line as the two VTOLs split formation, and darted away into the fog.
"This is a search and support mission, but beacon activation is unlikely. Main objective was travelling alone, without a locator package. I will do my best to run command and control support from here as I have time and resources."
Neyla grit her beak, and sharpened the flight angle of her wings, configuring them for speed, power, and minimal drag. Manhattan transformed into a colossal wind tunnel as she got up to speed, the fog parting before her like water around the bow of a warship.
Aston spoke once more as the Bureau structure fell away to the rear.
"Should you encounter anything untoward, you are authorized, and advised, to use lethal force, without warning or reservation. Good luck."
"Hi there."
The guard tensed, and whirled to bring the source of the voice into view. Fyrenn snagged the man's neck in both forelegs and twisted roughly, arresting his lower body with one back paw. The man's head continued to rotate at a speed approaching seventy miles an hour. His torso did not.
Fyrenn allowed the corpse to slump noiselessly to the floor, and peeked out from behind the edge of the doorway.
The central chamber of the warehouse was mostly quiet, and dark, save for a dim light and moving shadows near the hydraulic press. Minos was nowhere to be seen, and the APC that had transported the group had vanished from its parking space.
Soundlessly, Fyrenn leapt from the floor to the nearest ceiling support strut, beating his uninjured wing once to push him across the gulf.
He dug in with all of his talons and claws, making his way slowly along each diagonal strut until he could easily jump to the next.
As soon as he was directly over the press he paused, and assessed the situation.
Squish was lounging in a dilapidated folding chair, smoking an electronic cigarette and fiddling with a tactical knife. At various intervals nearby, four guards strolled to and fro at a leisurely pace, weapons lowered.
Fyrenn quickly ran through several scenarios, contemplating his options carefully. If Minos was still in the building, or if there were other enclaves of guards nearby, an overabundance of noise would potentially endanger April and Sonya.
The red Gryphon waited patiently until two of the guards were alone on the opposite side of the giant press, visually obscured from their comrades.
He extended his back claws, stretched out his talons, and dropped from his perch on the girder.
His talons found the weakest point at the back of the trooper's neck plates, passing straight through the knife-resistant fabric, skin, and bone, to reach, and sever the spinal nerve.
Wasting no time, Fyrenn darted up the side of the press, flared his good wing, and leapt down onto the next two guards. His left wing forced the first soldier to the floor, where Fyrenn's back left claw was waiting to twist his head into a fatally untenable configuration.
Meanwhile, he made good use of his free claws to smash the second guard's head into a vaguely pancake shaped blob.
Finally, before the remaining soldier could even raise his weapon, Fyrenn reached down and plucked the knife from Squish's hands.
The blade flew straight and true, embedding itself in the back of the soldier's throat by way of his open mouth, locked in an expression of astonishment and anger.
Fyrenn turned to Squish, and clamped one claw firmly over his mouth and throat. As April and Sonya approached, he held one talon to his beak for silence. The red Gryphon glowered down into Squish's face as the man squirmed in vain, trying unsuccessfully to kick, bite, and scream his way to freedom.
"Do you remember how I warned you this would end?"
The man's eyes bulged in fear as he realized what Fyrenn was planning to do. The Gryphon smiled slightly, and nodded towards the press.
"Well I wasn't exaggerating. That's not in my nature."
Without further warning, or pause, Fyrenn brought his free claw down on Squish's wrist, sharpest edges of his talons bared at a perpendicular angle to the skin.
His claw passed effortlessly through tissue and bone, liberating Squish's hand entirely from his arm. Fyrenn scooped up the severed appendage as it fell, shifting his preoccupied claw from the man's mouth, to his throat.
Before Squish could muster a scream, he rammed the man's hand into his mouth, blocking any further attempt to vocalize.
Both claws now freed, Fyrenn used his height and strength to force Squish's head into the internal space of the press. He held the man still with an iron grip on one shoulder, ignoring his whimpering pleas as he slammed his free claw down on the press control panel.
The device abruptly shuddered to life, and the compression plate dropped swiftly. Fyrenn released Squish's shoulder as the device took over.
He turned, and shepherded April and Sonya away from the machine with both claws, placing his body between the two girls, and their line of sight to the gruesome execution.
The Gryphon didn't even deign to watch himself, as the device finally snapped shut, reshaping Squish's head into a form roughly equivalent to a quarter-inch thick plate, accompanied by a variety of bone-chilling sounds.
Fyrenn sighed, and shook his head, muttering to himself with a small grin.
"Some people just don't handle pressure very well."
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Squish is looking a little flat. Meh, I'm sure it's nothing to lose your head over.
Sorry.
5228066
It seems like he was a little deflated by his encounter.
(Yeah... This is why only very dumb, or very arrogant, or very very well equipped Equestrian races attack the Gryphons. We believe in making our enemies regret not just attacking us, but existing in the first place at all.)
Unfortunately, Plan B always sucks. ;) (I always think of that line whenever I hear the phrase "plan B".)
5228126
You need enough weaponry to take out an armoured convoy to face off against a single griffon.
Well, that was quick.
But now at this rate, we won't learn what had motivated Minos to do those experiments.
" I squish your head, you are now a flathead" Kids in the hall