> The Conversion Bureau: The Other Side of the Spectrum, Side Story - Asia
>  by Kizuna Tallis
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue: The Changing of the Times
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


The Conversion Bureau: The Other Side of the Spectrum, Side Story – Asia


Written by Kizuna Tallis and co-written with help from Redskin 122004



Prologue: The Changing of the Times


Yon-Soo still remembered that day when everything changed, forever.

It was the day the question of whether mankind was alone in the universe was finally answered.

It seemed to bring good tidings. The Equestrians seemed pretty nice and polite and even shared something literally magical with humanity.

A serum that could remove cancer and other lethal diseases, grant sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, allowed the crippled to walk again, albeit on four legs and in the bodies of colorful little ponies. But people understood and were willing to let this go in order to save lives. Hell, Yon-Soo even thought about taking the potion for himself and turn into a pegasus; now that could’ve been neat.

But as time went on, people quickly noticed something was horribly wrong. The converted humans, Newfoals as they were called, underwent changes that went beyond the physical. Their very personalities were completely and utterly changed, for the worst. They became passive and fragile flowers. And they would just not stop smiling. It wasn’t even that they were just naturally cheerful but that their smiles were not genuine. They were glassy eyed and empty, like they had been brainwashed.

And indeed they were. The Newfoals would immediately denounce everything they previously believed in, be it religious, philosophy, or politically, and worship the ponies’ queen like a goddess.

Celestia.

And when Celestia refused to lower the barrier between their two worlds, announced she was planning to convert all of humanity into Newfoals, and forcibly ponified a group of reporters on camera, humanity immediately declared war.

It had been nearly three years now, and things barely seemed to be getting any better. The barrier destroyed every human and human made object it touched; essentially erasing all evidence mankind even existed. Buildings, roads, machines, art and monuments were lost forever as soon as that damned pink wall came into contact with them. Millions of homes and thousands of years of irreplaceable history were just gone, and it didn’t even leave behind dust to mark their destruction.

As a result, breaking through the barrier with conventional weapons didn’t work. Not even nukes could touch that thing, and neither could radioactive fallout. All that humanity’s forces could do was hold the line, help as many civilians escape as possible, and then fall back.

But Yon-Soo knew that there had to be a way. Some way, somehow, there had to be a way to win this war, and stop this insane tyrant’s assimilation plot.

He didn’t want to believe he had spent the past three years working with North Koreans, the Japanese, the Chinese, the Russians and the Equestrian defectors, becoming one of humanity’s best soldiers, a symbol of the Asian Resistance and a symbol of hope, just for it all to be for nothing.

> From Bad To Worse
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



Chapter One: From Bad To Worse


Seoul, South Korea, 2019 AD

“You can’t do this to us!!” a young female reporter screamed at Queen Celestia. She was clearly frightened for her life now, as anyone watching this event unfolding on TV could see.

And one of those people was Park Yon-Soo, model, pop-star and soap opera actor.

He and several of his costars were huddled around a single TV, helplessly seeing their colleague, and many others, get surrounded. Some tried to run away, but it was all in vain. Whether they were splashed or force fed it, the serum worked its magic on every one of those journalists, who screamed in pain as their bodies reshaped themselves into the mold of a pony, and the Queen herself just watching on with a dissonant and unsettling serenity and pride as this happened. The fresh Newfoals emerged, happily singing their new queen praises and thanks for showing them the light, and offering them a chance to live in the perfect paradise of Equestria.

And then the screen went black.

Everyone was stunned silent for a moment until one, an actress, whispered, “Dear God, poor Eun-Hee…”

The main studio executive, a rotund man in his 70s, shook in his seat, all color drained from his face. His voice shook as he said, “We’re at war now. How did this happen?”

Another actor shot up, “Well, we can’t just sit around and do nothing. If Queen Celestia wants to exterminate us all, we can’t just go down without a fight.”

That thought made Yon-Soo uncomfortable. Sure, he had some military experience, but it had been a very brief stint, the bare minimum he could serve under the law. He never wanted to make a career out of being in the armed forces. He was an artist and an entertainer by nature. He wasn’t a fighter.



The Korean DMZ, two weeks later…

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!!!” Yon-Soo kept saying to himself as he ran desperately for cover. He hadn’t expected anything like this.

After Queen Celestia essentially declared war against humanity, their first wave of attack was to ponify all of the world leaders, so as to crush any human resistance by getting rid of the heads of state. This right here was only one of what Yon-Soo knew were multiple simultaneous attacks.

And now, he was forced into the Demilitarized Zone, a small stretch of land that separated North and South Korea from each other. Ever since the end of the Korean War, the two countries maintained a very tenuous peace that everyone on both sides knew would not last forever. It was now serving as the closest thing to an underground railroad for defectors, refugees, and now, apparently, the North Koreans’ Dear Leader himself, as well as his family, and several influential military leaders were using the DMZ as a location for a secret bunker to keep themselves safe in case a scenario like this could happen. The civilians meanwhile were left to pretty much fend for themselves.

Yon-Soo had no idea why he had to be in this place. For the first time in his life, he now wished he had followed his father’s advice and just gone through medical or engineering school.

He also had no idea why he would have to help get the so-called Dear Leader over the DMZ. He understood that right now, international relations barely mattered when all of humanity was being targeted and under attack and old enmities would have to be set aside. But why he had to help clear the way for a ruthless dictator that didn’t care if his people were starving and poor made no sense to him personally.

And then they had to show up.

The PER, Ponification for Earth’s Rebirth. A bunch of misanthropic environmentalist whackjobs that believed the Equestrians’ arrival was proof enough that humanity didn’t deserve to go on existing as a species. Though they only came into the scene very recently, they had already claimed several victims. They worked side by side with Celestia’s troops and despite the fact that they were armed with only large stocks of the ponification serum, these agents were more dangerous than they appeared. They ponified all people they saw, and would force feed it to people if necessary.

And now Yon-Soo had realized too late that he and the rest of the troops he went here with were cannon fodder. The PER would try to convert him and the squadron as a distraction while that fat dictator would be able to escape safely. He could hear assorted gunshots in the air, the screams of people and ponies alike as they were either being shot at or converted. It was total chaos there and things were only getting worse.

He began to strongly consider just killing himself now. He didn’t want to get ponified and serve the Sun Tyrant; that was a fate worse than death in and of itself.

But at the same time, Yon-Soo didn’t want to take the coward’s way out. If those ponies would call his species monsters, then maybe he could show them what happened when that sleeping beast was awakened. He took a deep breath, made sure his rifle was fully loaded, and began to run out.

“Come on, you bastards!” Yon-Soo. “You want a war?! I’ll give you one!”

He was athletic enough to run fast and make some steady shots at the enemy with his rifle. A rain of bullets came down on the ponies, and despite their armor and his very bad aim, the bullets actually managed to kill Yon-Soo’s targets.

It was rather disgusting to watch. Apparently, the ponies’ bodies were quite delicate when it came to being shot at. Blood splattered all over the place, like they were paint filled balloons. This seemed to awaken something primal within Yon-Soo, as he kept shooting at them with everything he had. Killing those murdering aliens brought a sense of satisfaction to Yon-Soo. They were the soldiers working under the same murdering tyrant that ponified Eun-Hee and those reporters. And seeing them scream in pain as they bled out made him smile.

“Ponify him!” one of the PER agents yelled out.

Yon-Soo screamed, “Like hell I will let you!!”

He kept trying to shoot at them, reloading when he had to. And when his rifle ran out, he reached for his pistol.

“Die!” Yon-Soo screamed as he kept shooting at them. He managed get some, but they clearly had him outnumbered.

And soon, naturally, Yon-Soo ran out of bullets. He felt rather stupid that he didn’t leave one for himself.

The PER group was made up of a small number of traitorous humans and ponies. Yon-Soo could tell most of those ponies were newfoals. They managed to restrain him, keeping him pinned down to the ground. Yon-Soo sure as hell did not want to make it easy for them. He kept thrashing, and screaming curse words that made the newfoals gasp. Apparently, they were so delicate by nature that they couldn’t hear a swear word without cringing like oversensitive children.

“Now, now,” one of the PER agents said in a tone that would’ve been soothing in any other circumstance, “you shouldn’t be so angry or resistant. We’re just trying to help you leave behind your old life on this terrible world and live in harmony with nature, in a perfect blissful paradise.”

She was carrying a bottle full of a purple liquid that was very clearly supposed to be ponification serum. Yon-Soo angrily retorted, “My life was perfectly fine before you pieces of dog shit showed up here!”

It was then that another PER agent suddenly said, “Wait, I know this guy! He was in that Korean soap opera!”

A newfoal smiled and added, “Don’t worry, once he drinks this potion, he will be humbled and no longer an arrogant celebrity that thinks he’s above everyone. Before I was shown the light, I arrogantly placed myself above others because of my financial status. But now that I have seen the light, my life is perfect as I am now a but a humble servant for our Queen. Open wide now.”

Yon-Soo’s mouth was sealed tightly shut, even as his captors tried to pry it open and force feed him potion.

‘It can’t end like this!’ he thought to himself desperately. ‘God, please, please don’t let it end like this! I don’t want to be like those Newfoal freaks!’

What happened next was something Yon-Soo still wasn’t sure if it was God really listening to him, or fate, or pure luck. But it happened.

“Get away from him, you bastards!!” a voice completely unrecognizable to Yon-Soo yelled out from the distance.

Gunshots rang through the air as the PER agents screamed, some of them getting hit, blood spraying all over him. Yon-Soo noticed the bottle of potion fall to the ground next to his head, the thick purple liquid spilling into the dirt. He also noticed a couple of the newfoals began running at the soldier, carrying their own bottles full of potion, hoping to subdue and ponify him as well.

Big mistake. He shot at them, quickly disposing of them as they fell to the ground, blood quickly leaking from their gunshot wounds.

“Retreat!!” a PER agent screamed in horror as he desperately tried to run away. Apparently, even survival instinct was stronger than their desire to ponify all of humanity. But before he could run, he was shot in the leg, incapacitating him.

Yon-Soo looked out at his rescuer. Judging from his uniform and weapons and the fact that he spoke perfect English, he was likely an American. He was also far better at handling his weapon, judging from how much better he was at handling his rifle’s recoil and his shots being more precise. He made rather quick work of those PER scumbags before walking up to Yon-Soo.

The American was a tall man with lightly tanned skin and green eyes. His hair was covered up by his helmet, so Yon-Soo couldn't quite see much more. It was hard to tell how old he was; he had a rather youthful face that made him look almost like a man in his twenties, but that look in his eyes made him seem older than that. He was fully armed and loaded, and Yon-Soo was glad this guy was the one who helped out.

However, the American soldier didn’t seem quite as easy going as he glared at Yon-Soo, pointing his gun at him.

“Are you from the North or South?” the American asked him in Korean. “Either way, I don’t care much at this point, but if I’m bringing you with me, I need to know that you’re trustworthy.”

Yon-Soo tried not to be scared as he stammered, “I’m from the South! For crying out loud, stop pointing that thing in my face! I’ll come with you! It’s not like I have any reason to shoot the person who helped me!”

The soldier’s face softened slightly and he lowered his gun. He grabbed Yon-Soo’s arm and helped him up, asking, “Are you alright?”

Yon-Soo’s voice shook as he answered, “Yes, I’ll be okay. I really thought that was the end for me.”

The man snorted and remarked, “Well, it’s like that for everyone. I got separated from my squadron when a bunch of pegasi flew down trying to throw potion on us. I don’t know how many survived or if I’m even the last one.”

Yon-Soo was shocked at how he was being so casual with this. Why?

“Are there any other survivors?”

Yon-Soo got up and dusted himself off, replying, “I’m not sure. I had to help out in this escort mission to evacuate refugees from North Korea, but then the PER showed up. The North Korean soldiers were really bad-tempered I suppose, because they immediately started shooting. There were more of them than we thought would come, and it just escalated from there.”

“Refugees? You mean Kim Jong-Un?” the American asked as he observed the bodies lying around them. He then said, “Geeze Louise, I thought the day North Koreans and South Koreans would work together would be the day hell froze over. I guess that’s a sign the shit’s really hit the fan.”

He then noticed one of the human PER members was still moving, twitching as he bled out. He was crawling weakly. The American walked up towards the man, scowling at him. The PER agent spat at his boots.

“You think you’re some kind of noble warrior?” he asked through clenched teeth. “Some kind of dashing knight? Because you aren’t! You’re just a tool of a corrupt government, forced to kill and fight other people in the same situation, and then live a life of constant emotional and psychological trauma. We were trying to free you, everyone from that! Queen Celestia promised us all a perfect peaceful life in Equestria! Why resist the perfect gift?”

The soldier just snorted and said, “I’m not going to act noble, and I will admit the government I serve isn’t perfect, but at least I’m not a traitor like you.”

He then pointed the gun at the agent’s head, and the man’s eyes widened.

“No, please don’t kill me! I’m sorry! I don’t want to die! Just let me go, I’ll do anything!”

The American’s eyes darkened and he viciously snarled, “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you sold out our species to the invaders. I’ll see you in hell, traitor.”

The American pulled the trigger, and shot the man right in the head, blood splattering all over the ground. Yon-Soo had to resist the urge to vomit. Even after shooting up a decent number of ponies and agents, he still couldn’t get used to this sort of thing.

The American blew the smoke off of the barrel’s end, and began examining the surrounding area. He then said, “We’re going to have to start moving if we want to get to Seoul within a few days. It’s at least safer there than here, that’s for certain.”

Yon-Soo sighed. “This really is not how I ever expected things would go. A bunch of cute little candy colored ponies, attempting to exterminate us all. Who would have thought it?”

The American let out a slight dark chuckle at that and said, “No one did. I’ll admit, so far, I like you. My name’s Porter Stanley. How about yours?”

“I’m Yon-Soo. Yon-Soo Park. I have to say, Porter, your Korean’s pretty good.”

Porter gave a small smile and said, “Thanks. I learned it for a girl I liked.”

Yon-Soo raised an eyebrow at that and asked, “Did she like you back?”

Porter looked down at the ground. He seemed hesitant to answer, and his expression darkened again. Yon-Soo had to admit that Porter was pretty scary looking when he was angry.

Yon-Soo quickly said, “I’m sorry I asked! You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Porter shook his head and replied, “No, it’s okay, Yon-Soo. You had no idea. Yes, she did like me back, and we did start dating before Equestria arrived.”

Yon-Soo wasn’t sure whether to give into his curiosity or not, but he just felt like he had to know.

“So what happened to her?”

Porter then angrily snarled, “She was ponified. That reporter who spoke up against the queen on TV? That was her. When I saw what happened, I swore I would take down as many of those bastards as I could, for her. Eun-Hee fought until the end, and I will do the same.”

Yon-Soo’s eyes widened as he exclaimed, “Wait, what?! I knew her too! She was an anchorwoman at the broadcast company I worked for!”

Porter looked shocked as he mused at that irony. Six degrees of separation probably wasn’t so farfetched anymore now. But now wasn’t the time to muse on ironic meetings possibly orchestrated by fate or coincidence. Night was going to come soon, and he knew that this wave of attackers was only the first of many more likely to come. They wouldn’t be safe for much longer staying here, and Yon-Soo likely knew that too.

“Well,” Porter said, “like I said, we can’t stay here much longer. More PER agents will likely show up here to see what happened, and we can’t take any risks if the Sun Tyrant’s going to send out her royal guards.”

Yon-Soo wasn’t about to argue with that. Porter seemed like the kind of guy that knew what he was doing, and as of now, was the only person Yon-Soo could trust with helping him stay alive. Hey, maybe Porter could even train him better than that crash course boot camp instructor too. And Seoul did sound like it would be safer than out here in the middle of nowhere. And so, they began walking.
> Desperate Times, Desperate Measures
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter Two: Desperate Times, Desperate Measures



It was dark out now. Yon-Soo had no idea how long (both in terms of time and distance) he and Porter had been walking, but he knew it had been for quite a long while now. It was dark out now, and Yon-Soo had to admit, the night sky was quite beautiful. Without the lights of Seoul or any pollution, the stars were allowed to shine in the dark blue sky that was faintly illuminated by the near full moon. But he could barely savor it right now. Porter was determined to get as far away from that battlefield as possible and get to a safer location.

He really didn’t like this nonstop walking, as his feet were getting very tired. Sure, he was pretty athletic, did some good work at the gym and with his personal trainer, but Yon-Soo could definitely see what the difference between exercising to look good and being genuinely athletic was. Porter only took a rest break occasionally, and he wasn’t very tired from this constant movement, all the while staying calm, alert and focused on their surroundings.

Yon-Soo held his tongue the best he could, and really did not want to aggravate Porter by complaining about how tired he was. But finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Porter, could we please just rest now? It’s dark out and we’ve been moving for hours! I’m just exhausted and I’ve been trying to keep up with you as best as I could, but I can’t take another step. My legs feel like they’re going to fall off any second now!”

Porter just looked at Yon-Soo, and despite his hard expression, he did look understanding. Yon-Soo wasn’t a soldier, and he was right. It was dark out and they had been walking for a long time. By now they should be more than far enough from that scene to not be tracked down, unless the PER and Royal Guards were being really diligent. Plus, under the cover of the woods and forest, they should be safe from pegasi, and PER agents.

“Alright,” said Porter, “we can set up a camp here for a few hours. Rest up and recuperate. We can’t afford to stay still for very long though. Time isn’t on our side, that’s for certain.”

“Thank God,” Yon-Soo sighed, as he took his backpack off and set down his heavy weapons. Meanwhile Porter scouted the area to make sure they would be out of harm’s way for the time being. As soon as he was about to declare they were safe enough, he saw Yon-Soo do something that made him want to smack his forehead against one of the trees.

“What are you doing Yon-Soo?” he asked.

Yon-Soo simply replied, “Um, I was going to gather some sticks for firewood.”

Porter groaned and hissed, “Are you trying to get us ponified, you idiot?! Starting a fire in the dark when the enemy’s probably still looking for any holdouts or survivors is the most reckless kind of thing to do in this situation. We might as well shine a spotlight on ourselves and hold a sign saying ‘hey, ponify us’ while we’re at it!”

Yon-Soo stepped back, throwing the sticks away as he said, “Okay, okay, I won’t make a fire then.”

“Good.”

With that, the two sat down, took out their rations and began eating. They both had to be careful though. Neither had much food in either of their backpacks and had to ration it very carefully, at least before considering hunting and fishing a viable enough option.

Porter decided to try starting up a small conversation, “So what was it you said you did for work before everything went to hell?”

“Well,” said Yon-Soo, “I was an actor for a show being broadcast on KBS, and I did some modeling and singing on the side.”

Porter raised an eyebrow at that, replying, “Yeah, I remember you telling me about that earlier. Said you knew Eun-Hee and all.”

Porter looked into Yon-Soo’s face, trying to bring himself to remember what show he saw Yon-Soo in. He was shaken out of his musing when he heard a crunchy sound, like leaves or twigs snapping. He and Yon-Soo quickly picked up their rifles, surveying the area.


As they took cover in some bushes, Yon-Soo could hear the crackling sound and some footsteps nearby. He quickly ran towards a tree, hoping to get some cover.

As soon as he felt something hard and metallic touch the back of his neck, he cursed to himself that he just seemed to have bad luck following him everywhere nowadays.

“Move and I will shoot you,” the unknown assailant said in Korean. Yon-Soo noted that it was a male voice, and it had a strange kind of accent to it.

“What do you want?” Yon-Soo asked carefully, putting his hands up.

“Did I say you could move?!” the assailant asked, a frantic tone rising in his voice.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Porter suddenly said from behind, pointing his gun at the other man’s head.

“If you try to shoot me, I’ll kill him too!”

Porter chucked and replied, “I’d like to see you try, rookie. You don’t even have the safety turned off.”

That was enough of an opening. Yon-Soo quickly ducked for cover as Porter grabbed the other man by the arms, roughly throwing him on the ground, causing his rifle to fall out of his hands. As Porter kept his foot down on the man’s chest and Yon-Soo pointed his own rifle at the man’s head, he started crying and screaming.

“No, please, don’t kill me!! I don’t have anything for you, but I’ll do anything you ask! Please just let me go!” he cried.

Yon-Soo wasn’t a soldier, but even he knew noise could attract the enemy, as he covered the man’s mouth so that he could stay quiet while Porter could get some information out of him.

Porter growled, “Then answer me this – who are you, where are you from, are there more of you and why are you here?”

The man tried to get some of himself together, trying to act dignified as he asked back, “Why should I answer anything you ask me, you filthy American dog?!”

Porter put on a face of mock pain as he sarcastically replied, “Oh come on; I know I haven’t taken a shower in a couple of days, but is my body odor really that horrendous? And to be clear, I prefer cats.”

Yon-Soo was starting to get impatient. If that man was from where he suspected, there could be more of them, and though he didn’t like being paranoid, he really didn’t want to get surrounded. So he decided to take the initiative.

“Answer the question!” Yon-Soo snarled at him, pushing the barrel against the man’s forehead roughly.

The man panicked and said, “Okay, okay!! My name is Hyong-Jin Kang, I’m from Tanchon and I’m here because I was on a mission! We were trying to help the Dear Leader get to safety away from the invaders, but when they showed up, we tried to shoot at them. I got separated from them when there were more Newfoals than we thought, and I didn’t want to get turned, so I just started running from it as fast as I could! Please, don’t shoot me! I just wanted to take the job so I could get some special medicine and food for my family! Please just let me go…”

As the man whimpered and cried, Porter and Yon-Soo, though they didn’t lower their rifles, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity for this sad, pathetic little man. He was clearly someone thrust into a situation far out of his element and comprehension. And though neither was willing to make nice with a North Korean that still thought his leader was a good man, they looked at each other, and without even verbalizing it, agreed that maybe keeping him around would prove useful.

“We’ll give you a deal here, Hyong-Jin,” Porter said firmly. “Yon-Soo and I are going to Seoul, and you can come with us. But you need to pull your own weight here. So stay quiet, shoot the enemy if they appear, and don’t try to shoot us, or we’ll kill you ourselves. Understand?”

Hyong-Jin still tried to act defiant however, retorting, “Why should I follow you? The Leader needs my help and my family needs me!”

Yon-Soo rolled his eyes and replied, “Because we’re the only ones that are willing to take you in and let you live. Not to mention, I’m more than a hundred percent certain all of North Korea is flooded with PER agents and Newfoals, making going back there downright suicidal for us. And besides, Kim Jong-Un’s probably either dead or ponified, and your family’s probably suffered the same fate.”

Hyong-Jin’s eyes widened and he shook his head frantically, screaming, “No, you’re lying!”

Porter angrily slapped Hyong-Jin across the face, viciously hissing, “Stay quiet! Are you trying to draw attention to us?! Do you want to be ponified? Because Yon-Soo and I can leave you here for the PER to find you if you’d like that. I doubt living under the Solar Tyrant is going to be any different for you anyway; you’re already used to being a brainwashed slave of an insane dictator. Only difference is that you’ll at least get a decent meal three times a day.”

“You don’t know what my life is like,” Hyong-Jin countered angrily.

Porter and Yon-Soo both had to roll their eyes at that. Apparently denial wasn’t just a river in Egypt.

Porter sighed, “Look, we can’t stay here any longer. If Hyong-Jin’s yelling was loud enough, which I’m sure it was, it could attract attention, and not of the good kind. We need to start moving again. We’ll know we’re close to being out of the DMZ once we’ve seen some buildings with patrols.”

Hyong-Jin groaned and angrily picked his rifle up, and it wasn’t lost on Porter and Yon-Soo that he seemed to be having a harder time lifting and carrying it. Even through his uniform, he was clearly rather skinny looking and it seemed like his uniform hung a bit loosely around his frame. They stayed quiet and decided to just keep moving.




“Steady, steady…”

With a quick splash and a thrust, Porter had successfully speared a fish with a stick he had sharpened. As it flopped helplessly on the spear, Yon-Soo had placed the fish onto a makeshift plate. They had a decent catch today. The sun was actually shining quite well, and the river was full of fish. In fact, the whole scenery was beautiful. Since the DMZ was largely untouched and undisturbed by human interference, the region had turned into an unlikely refuge for numerous endangered animals. Eventually, it became an official national treasure, and small numbers of scientists and biologists were allowed in to study the wildlife on the very rare occasions when relations between the north and south were decently steady enough.

“Well, boys, here’s our lunch,” said Porter as he set the spear aside, and took his pocket knife out, ready to gut and clean the fish.

“Are we just eating it raw?” Hyong-Jin asked incredulously. Earlier he had wanted to set up a fire, but Yon-Soo and Porter both said no, and Yon-Soo even nearly punched him for trying to make them visible to potential enemies by way of the smoke the fire could cause.

Porter had to smile at that; Yon-Soo was learning quickly. Now if Hyong-Jin could do the same…

Yon-Soo replied, “Yes, just like sushi. You know what sushi is, right?”

“Don’t talk down on me. Just because we don’t have fancy food like you capitalist pigs do doesn’t mean we’re stupid.”

Porter quipped, “Then answer me this – if your leader said that two plus two equals five, would you believe him?”

Hyong-Jin just glared at Porter and ignored him, simply sitting down to eat his fish.

The three soldiers sat and ate quietly. Yon-Soo couldn’t help but think again just how his life, everyone’s lives really, took a sudden sharp turn for something so different. All of humanity was under attack, and had to put their differences aside in order to survive. All fighting one common enemy.

The Equestrians.

Damn them all. Who gave them the power to decide where the human race’s future as a species should go? What gave them the idea the only way to help humanity was to assimilate them and destroy their history? Why did they want to essentially wipe out mankind and erase all evidence of humanity’s existence from earth?

Yon-Soo did not buy into their frankly stupid excuse that it was to save them from their history of conflict. Sure, even he wasn’t about to gloss over the fact that people could be cruel, but he knew humans were capable of great kindness too. Those ponies were for lack of a better word, complete and utter hypocrites.

And Yon-Soo found himself hating them. Their Queen especially. She was a mad despot that would make Kim Jong-Un look like a cuddly little teddy bear; that was for certain.

And he wanted to wipe them all out. If they thought of all humans as war-mongering, bloodthirsty monsters, then maybe it was time to show those egotistical phonies what happens when the sleeping beast awakens.

“Porter, can I ask one thing from you?” Yon-Soo asked.

“Ask ahead.”

“When you first met me, I was not a fighter at all. I only survived by sheer dumb luck. I don’t want to be dead weight in all of this. I want to fight. I want to show those monsters that I’m not a weakling. Would you be willing to help me get better?”

Porter smiled and replied, “I’d be more than happy to, Yon-Soo. And I have one favor to ask from you.”

“What is it?”

“If I ever get doused with the potion, I want you to shoot me. I want to die as myself, and not have to be one more among many of the Sun Tyrant’s drones. Would you do that for me?”

Yon-Soo’s eyes widened at this. On one hand, he could understand where Porter was coming from with this, but at the same time, the thought of shooting his friend sounded downright brutal. But then again, he could see Porter do the same to him, or Hyong-Jin, or even others.

Reluctantly, he nodded yes.

Hyong-Jin piped up, “Actually, I want that too. I like being a human; I don’t want to get turned into one of them.”

Yon-Soo said, “Me too. I’ve seen what ponification does to a person. I never want to live like that.”

The three resumed eating, a mutual feeling among them having developed and making things a lot less tense. But they knew this was only the beginning.




It had taken them almost four days of nonstop walking, minimal sleep and rest, but finally it seemed like the trio had reached their destination. But at this point they knew better than to be complete optimists.

“What do you see?” Hyong-Jin asked as Yon-Soo and Porter surveyed the area ahead with their binoculars. He had to keep watch from behind and above. Although they hadn’t encountered any PER agents, Royal Guards, or Newfoals, they could never be too cautious during this war.

Yon-Soo replied, “Definitely some patrol towers. A lot of soldiers, too. Everyone looks like they’re on high alert.”

“Not shocking,” said Porter.

“So how do we get through?” asked Hyong-Jin.

“Simple – we just tell them we aren’t hostile, and explain ourselves. Anyone not PER or pony will be able to get through easily.”

“I hope so.”

And with that, they set their rifles at their sides, locked and good, and began walking towards the checkpoint.

“Halt! Who goes there?” a guard yelled out in English. He was definitely an American officer, fully armed and loaded, and ready to shoot if it came down to that.

“My name is Lieutenant Porter Stanley, USMC! This is Yon-Soo Park and Hyong-Jin Kang!” Porter yelled back. “We were sent out on a mission to evacuate people out of the north. Yon-Soo and Hyong-Jin here are the last of their squadrons, and I saved them from getting ponified. We shot every PER agent and Newfoal there, and haven’t encountered any hostiles. We all just want to get to Seoul where it’s safer!”

The guards, still a bit skeptical, began inspecting them. As soon as he saw Hyong-Jin, he immediately pointed his gun at the man.

“Whoa, hey, what are you doing?!” Porter asked angrily.

“This is a North Korean!” the guard said angrily. “He can’t be trusted, and could be a spy.”

“No!” Yon-Soo jumped in. “He came with us because he wanted to! What could he possibly do? The leader’s probably been ponified and right now, we can’t care about where someone came from when the Equestrians don’t care as long as all of humanity is ponified! Would killing him or imprisoning him really solve anything? We need all the help we can get at this point. Please, let him through. Trust us.”

The guard growled and said, “I’ll have to report to the CO for this. But know this, if he tries anything on anyone here, no one will hesitate to kill him, got it?”

“We understand,” Porter replied. “I’ll tell you this here though – in the short time that I’ve known Hyong-Jin, I know he’s a guy that likes being a human, and will fight tooth and nail for our survival. I won’t say that I trust him with my life, but he is a good man.”

The guard nodded, and ran off to a corner to call his CO. Now Hyong-Jin was very nervous.

“What if they just leave me behind?” he asked frantically. “I don’t want to be left alone to fend for myself. I can barely really fight and those newfoals would ponify me as soon as they see me! I want to help out! Why won’t they see that?”

“Calm down, Hyong-Jin. They’ll let you in,” Porter said as reassuringly as he could, but Yon-Soo could sense even he was nervous.

Yon-Soo sure hoped so too. He wouldn’t say that he completely trusted Hyong-Jin with his own life, but he knew the way the soldiers were treating him as an enemy when he wasn’t the one going around ponifying everyone was rather unfair and cruel. Hopefully they would listen to reason.

The guard came back and said, “The CO says that your northern friend is clear, but he will be kept under watch. And you two keep a close eye on him as well. At this point, old enmities don’t matter, but trust issues from decades of fighting won’t be swept under the rug just like that, and we’re not taking any chances. Go on in.”

Hyong-Jin sighed with utter relief as the trio walked through the gate. It was a fortress on the other side to put it simply. Several soldiers, male and female, looked over at the trio coming in before getting back to work. Others were tending to soldiers’ wounds and doing basic health check-ups. Personnel were constantly on the move, trading information and intel, trying to see what was going on around the rest of the world.

The atmosphere was filled with tension and alertness. The people here looked like they were subsisting on a diet made of purely coffee.

“Is this all people are doing here?” Hyong-Jin asked, shocked.

“What?” asked Porter, “They don’t have any high tech intel bases where you’re from?”

Hyong-Jin only looked more confused, until someone yelled out from the corner of the room.

“Guys, check this out! This came from England!”

“Wait,” another officer piped up, “England? I thought the Bureau over there closed, and Ambassador Heartstrings and her staff turned themselves in to Her Majesty's military, right? They announced they were defecting from Equestria and destroyed all the potion they had there.”

“Yeah, but here’s this clip. The PER is still active there and tried to stream their attack on the royal family online, but they got their asses handed to them by Granny herself. Watch!”

Yon-Soo, Porter and Hyong-Jin all watched at the large screen showing the Youtube clip. The camera shook as the PER and royal guards stormed Balmoral Castle, only to find Queen Elizabeth the Second sitting on a single chair in the center of the throne room. She looked quite threatening and tough for a woman of her age, as she glared down her attackers.

“You think you can come into my palace, my country, and destroy the will of my people?! I may be old and decrepit, but I. Will. Not. Stand. For this insult!!”

“Potion the bitch!” a PER agent yelled. As they were about to, the Queen revealed something in her hand.

A black stick with a red button. Everyone recognized this was a bomb charge.

“I think not,” the Queen said smugly. “Say goodbye to the world, and may God Almighty show you the mercy I withhold.”

She pressed the button, and right before the screen went to static, fire and explosions were heard, mixed with the screams of horror from the PER and royal guards as the Queen took her attackers with her.

Everyone stared slack jawed at what just happened on screen before them. Finally, a Marshall came up and yelled at everyone.

“Now that we’ve just seen this, I think the Queen of England ought to be an inspiration. She may have been over ninety years old, but had more than enough fighting spirit to be strong and defiant to the end. We have to follow her example, and show those ponies we will not go down easily, that we’d rather die than accept their false gift. Now get back to work!”

“Yes sir!” everyone yelled in unison, as they got back to their jobs.

Yon-Soo breathed in wonder, “Wow, the Queen of England is just… damn.”

“That’s nothing,” a random female officer chirped. “Rumor has it that Prime Minister Rokubungi took on a whole squadron of royal guards himself to buy the Emperor and his family time to evacuate to America. He supposedly committed seppuku to stop them from ponifying him.”

“Do you really think he killed himself?”

“I don’t know. Of course there are the crazier rumors that claim he tore out a unicorn horn and killed himself while half-ponfied. Of course, no one can verify that now.”

Porter couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Admittedly, that did sound like an epic way to go out. But they hardly had the time to ponder rumors in Japan.

“Do you know how to get to Seoul from here, by any chance?” he asked the officer.

“Yeah, if you go to the transportation division, you’ll find trucks and buses everywhere. Many are going to Seoul and other safe areas.”

“Alright, thanks ma’am,” said Porter as the trio began moving again.

“Wait!” Hyong-Jin exclaimed. “Do you know what happened to the citizens of North Korea? Did you manage to get any information from there?”

The officer, as soon as she saw Hyong-Jin’s uniform, stepped back in surprise, but she seemed to be far more relaxed than the other soldier from earlier. She looked rather hesitant to say anything.

“Tell me, please!” Hyong-Jin pleaded with her. “I need to know! What if my family and friends are still alive, waiting for me? I can’t go on not knowing.”

The officer looked at the floor sadly and said, “I’m very sorry, but all of our intel has said that the PER were more or less, completely successful with converting most of the population in North Korea. While some were able to escape to China and Russia, or by boat to Japan or some islands via the Yellow Sea, the overwhelming majority wasn’t able to leave, and were likely ponified. And if they weren’t, they may have decided to do what the Queen and the Prime Minister did, and committed suicide. I’m very sorry, but the chances that your family and friends are still alive and human are incredibly slim.”

The look on Hyong-Jin’s face as he listened to this was heartbreaking. He had taken a risky job with the military and went through all of this, only for it all to be for nothing and his family and friends lost to him, possibly forever.

“They’re gone…” he murmured, tears flowing freely down his face. “I couldn’t help them and protect them. Mother, my little sister… I promised Father before he died that I would protect and take care of them. And I couldn’t. I failed them all…”

Porter sympathetically touched Hyong-Jin’s shoulder and said, “We’ve all lost someone thanks to the Equestrians, Hyong-Jin. All we can do now is make them pay for what they’ve done. You can avenge them and still make your father proud.”

Hearing this seemed to lift Hyong-Jin’s spirits up a little as he wiped his face off and looked on with anger and determination. He then declared, “Then I’ll make them all pay. For my family and friends! I swear, by the honor of my ancestors, will avenge them!”

Yon-Soo nodded and said, “But we can’t today. We still can’t go to North Korea anytime soon. For now, we have to go to Seoul and get to the main headquarters. We need to rest and get stronger. You especially Hyong-Jin, if you want to avenge your family and friends.”

“Yes, I understand,” he replied, and with that, the trio began walking to the transport area.

The transportation division was no less busy than the rest of the base. Supply trucks were being emptied out as workers frantically tried to make sure they had enough inventories on hand. Food, weapons, and medical supplies were the most common items coming into the military base it seemed. There were also a few buses too. Those coming in were scientists, engineers, soldiers and doctors; those exiting from the base were very few – mostly civilians, refugees and some soldiers that were being sent to guard the cities.

“There it is,” Yon-Soo said, as he pointed out a bus full of people that was marked to depart for Seoul. As they got on, the other passengers looked up, rather despondent.

As the bus began to leave, Yon-Soo let his thoughts drift again. He thought about a lot of things. How was his family doing now? How did Hyong-Jin’s father die? What would they do once they were in Seoul? What was going on in the rest of the world?

He decided he would think about those things later. Right now, the lack of sleep and rest finally caught up to him, and Yon-Soo let himself sleep.

> Seoul
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter Three: Seoul


After the Korean War wrapped up, it became mandatory that all men serve a stint in the military, with the option of making a career out of it if they so choose to. Yon-Soo himself had done it right after graduating from high school, and only did the absolute minimum to get it out of the way as soon as possible. He hated every minute of it, even though it was in the name of servicing his country. Unlike some of the friends he made there, he had no intention of making a full-time career out of it.

After he left, he used the money he saved up to put himself through acting and singing lessons at schools in Korea and Hollywood. It paid off well, as he got himself several modeling gigs for world famous designer brands, and side roles in movies and TV shows, before getting his big break on the soap opera “The Baker’s Dilemma” and hitting it pretty big with his hit single “Good Girls, Bad Girls.”

He lived a nice, comfortable life of getting more money than he could spend in a hundred lifetimes, female fans throwing themselves at his feet, and even some international recognition.

Looking back on it now, Yon-Soo realized how selfish he had been.

Sure, he gave away droves of his money away to charities, became a spokesperson for humanitarian organizations, and whatnot, but he never really had gotten his hands dirty, never really became actively involved with anything serious in his life.

At least until the war against Equestria was declared.

Yon-Soo, Porter, Hyong-Jin, along several refugees and military members were riding in the cramped bus on the bumpy road down to Seoul. Between listening to the chatter and a few fussy small children on board, it was far from pleasant. But Yon-Soo held his tongue, determined to make it through this unpleasant bus ride. If he was able to survive four days in the wilderness and remain undetected by enemy agents, he could survive this.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be arriving in Seoul in less than ten minutes. I suggest you pack your supplies and get ready to get off,” the driver said to them.

“Thank God,” Porter whispered. “Those little kids were starting to drive me nuts.”

“You and me both,” Yon-Soo admitted as he picked up his backpack. As they looked out the windows, they could see the outlines of their destination not too far off in the horizon.

Seoul. Capital city of South Korea, center of the country’s economy and politics, home to more than 25 million people and second largest city in the world. Initially torn apart and horribly impoverished following years of subjugation by Japanese colonialism and the Korean civil war, the leaders of Seoul focused on rebuilding and modernizing the city. It succeeded and Seoul stood as a proud testament to the fighting spirit and hard-working mentality of Koreans. It was the ultimate 21st century city, on the cutting edge of innovation and technology, but it also kept many traditions alive, as buildings built from Korea’s medieval past were still standing proudly amongst the skyscrapers.

The bus stopped in front of the gate of the Yongsan Garrison. Everyone left the bus and as soon as their belongings were accounted for, the bus departed, possibly to refuel and then make another run back to the DMZ patrol base.

Hyong-Jin looked mystified at his new surroundings. He looked like a little kid in a candy store.

“Wow, I’ve never seen a city like this before! Pyongyang has nothing on this place! These buildings are so tall, and everything looks so lit up and amazing! How come we never got a city like this in the North? It’s not fair!”

Porter replied, “Well, we can discuss that later. And don’t act like a total tourist, Hyong-Jin. You’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Hey!” Yon-Soo interjected, “Let him have some fun! Everyone gets a little crazy when they see Seoul for the first time! Didn’t you?”

Porter shrugged and admitted, “I guess you’re right. I was born and raised in a pretty small town in Ohio, so seeing Seoul for the first time at night was pretty overwhelming to me.”

“What do we do now?” Hyong-Jin asked.

“Well,” Porter said, “we should register ourselves, and let the big guys on top know who we are and what we want to do.”

“And what is that exactly?”

“Simple – kick the Sun Tyrant’s ass.”

Yon-Soo added in, “Well, before we do any of that, I would like to contact my parents and see how they’ve been. I know they would be worried about me, so I should let them know I’m still alive.”

“That is a good idea,” Porter agreed. “Got my own family too, and they must be worried sick. Plus we should get some information too. See if the PER is active here as well, and get a count of how many people were ponified.”

The three men nodded, making their way to the army base. The atmosphere here was pretty much the same as the DMZ patrol base. Everyone was on high alert and running around trying to get the most up to date information. Soldiers and guards were posted outside, vigilantly keeping watch over the skies to make sure no pegasus ponies were out to drop potion bombs on everyone.

Even the civilians were very tense. There was constant chatter about rumors, possible defenses against the potion, and how to help out in the war effort. Fear and anxiety had taken over.

As the men found a phone station, Porter and Yon-Soo quickly took the first empty ones.

Yon-Soo felt a bit nervous calling his parents. It wasn’t that they had a bad relationship with each other, but his father, a civil engineer, had never really approved of his son’s career choice, until he proved he was serious about it and succeeded at it. His mother had been far more supportive from the start. He pushed his anxiety aside and dialed.

After several seconds of waiting, he got an answer.

“Hello? Who is this?” his father’s voice said on the other line.

“Hi, Father, it’s me, Yon-Soo.”

“Yon-Soo?! You’re alive?! Is it really you?” Yon-Soo could recognize that was his mother’s voice. She sounded like she had been crying for hours if not days and was so relieved to find out her only son was still here.

“Yes, Mother, I am alive and well. I survived my encounter with the PER and made it back to Seoul in one piece. I’ve had quite an adventure.”

“Oh, I’m just so glad you haven’t been ponified! The Heavenly Father only knows how horrible that would’ve been!”

“Yeah, I know.”

Yon-Soo’s father got back on the phone and said, “Yon-Soo, please come home. Everyone – us, Aunt Eun-Ji, Uncle Dae-Su and , your grandparents and cousins, they’ve all been worried sick ever since finding out you were sent out on that mission.”

Yon-Soo wasn’t surprised. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t just sit around doing nothing. He sighed and replied, “I know Father, I know. But what else are we supposed to do? The Equestrians want to destroy us all. After everything I’ve seen, I can’t just sit and do nothing.”

“And put yourself at risk again?!” his mother asked, sobbing. “We’ve seen those people, those PER people, and they’ve been all over the news! We’ve had to lock our windows and doors, and sleep with the lights on! We’ve been looking at getting out of this place! We’re scared for our lives, and for yours!”

“I know, Mother. And that’s why I’m staying with the military. I’m doing this to protect you and the rest of our family! I want to make those ponies and the PER pay for what they’re doing to everyone! I’m sorry but I can’t sit and do nothing when they’re still around.”
As his mother continued to cry, Yon-Soo’s father angrily said, “Yon-Soo, please, listen to reason! All we have to do is get on a plane and get to America. I don’t like the idea of leaving Seoul any more than you do, but we’ll be safer there.”

“No,” Yon-Soo said firmly. “America is also dealing with the PER as well, and have been having as much trouble. I’m sorry, Father, I really am, but I can’t leave. I choose to stay and help. Those Equestrians aren’t ever going to stop. You can’t reason with them and they and their queen will do whatever it takes until we’re all assimilated. I’m not going to go down without a fight, and I don’t think you’d want that either.”

A long and tense silence took hold, and finally Yon-Soo’s father said, “Alright, Yon-Soo. I understand. We have come from a lineage of warriors from the time of the Three Kingdoms, and up until today, hardly anyone has lived up to it. I don’t like it at all, but I know you’re strong. Just know that we’re all praying for you.”

“Thanks Father. Please, do the same. Protect yourselves in any way that you can.”

“We will. We love you Yon-Soo.”

“I love you too.”

As Yon-Soo hung up, he felt a bit better now, knowing his father was letting him do this. He decided to check on Porter, who seemed to have had a similar conversation with his own family.

“So how did your folks take it?” Porter asked him.

“Well, they were worried, but understanding. What about yours?”

Porter said, “Same. My parents and brother have been really paranoid ever since the PER and the Newfoals started attacking people. They’ve had to buy their own guns and have even joined some resistance group called the Human Liberation Front. I’m kinda worried though; from what I hear, the HLF are also pretty crazy themselves. But they’ll keep themselves safe. I know they will be.”

“That’s actually a good idea though,” said Yon-Soo. “People should learn to defend themselves right? Why doesn’t the military teach the regular civilians how to defend themselves?”

“I think they’re already starting to,” Porter said, pointing to a stack of flyers. It was flashy, with a stylized picture of the barrier and Queen Celestia looking down at a crowd of scared people running away as potion bottles came down at them. Written in both English and Korean, it said, “Don’t Let The Equestrians Win! Learn How To Defend Yourselves!”

As they left the phone room, they saw something that got them racing. A crowd of soldiers were circled around Hyong-Jin, jeering at him.

“What are you doing here, Northie? You a spy?” one of them asked derisively.

Hyong-Jin didn’t say anything back; he obviously didn’t speak any English and couldn’t defend himself.

“Hey!” Porter yelled angrily, walking up to the soldiers. “Do you have a problem with my friend?”

“Seriously though,” another soldier said, “Why is he being allowed here? You know what the North has done to its prisoners.”

Porter replied, “And to its own citizens I might add. I’ve known this man for a lot longer than any of you, and I know he’s like any other person here who just wants to help us fight against the enemy. Just because he’s a northerner, that doesn’t mean he’s not a human like the rest of us. So leave him alone.”

Porter was intimidating enough to get them to back off and they left, whispering amongst themselves.

“What were they saying?” Hyong-Jin asked.

“Nothing, Hyong-Jin,” Porter said to him. “They just won’t let things go, even when it doesn’t matter right now. You shouldn’t let them get to you. You’re better than that. Come on, let’s get going. We should start your and Yon-Soo’s training.”

Both Yon-Soo and Hyong-Jin gulped. They were both certain it would be brutal.





“You want to do what exactly?” the main general at the base asked. He was an old guy, but not elderly. His light brown hair was patchy somewhat and covered mostly by his brown beret, and his uniform was decorated with several ribbons and medallions. He was definitely a seasoned guy, Porter could tell. The man’s face was marred with several frown lines and his blue eyes were hard and icy like cold steel. He was not one for nonsense, so Porter articulated himself.

“Well, sir, I have survived the mission in the DMZ, and I brought back two people with me. One is from here in South Korea, and the other came from the North. They were both sent out on escort missions to help evacuate certain people across the border, but the PER showed up and everything went straight to hell. I saved Yon-Soo, the South Korean, and he and I encountered Hyong-Jin, the North Korean, together. They’re the only surviving members of their squadrons and they both have asked me personally to help them hone their skills. I only ask that we get to use the training facilities here. We’ve been good at hiding ourselves; I’ve had experience in special ops missions helping to arrest international criminals using CQB, and I can see their potential.”

The general looked at Porter before getting up and looking out at the window. Outside, the city skyline was visible. The general sighed and said, “What was your name again – oh right. Well Lt. Stanley, you know why I stayed in the military after all the shit I’d seen?”

He continued, “It’s because I realized there are very few people out there willing to risk it all so that everyone else out there, those that are unable to fend for themselves, can get on with their safe, happy and normal lives. That was just the way it was. But now, this new war has changed everything. Everyone, man, woman and child, will have to take arms against this new threat.

“I also saw what that potion can do to a person. He was an old friend of mine, and he took it so he wouldn’t die from pancreatic cancer. When I looked into his eyes, I couldn’t see anything. His eyes looked like they were made of glass. That smile he wore wasn’t genuine or true happiness. The man that he was before was washed away and replaced by this alien that had his memories and nothing else. He became a perpetually smiling zombie, shaped like a bright green miniature horse, and regarding the man he once was with complete disgust. I had never seen anything more unsettling than a newfoal.”

“I’m sorry sir; just what are you getting at exactly?” Porter asked him.

The general replied, “Humanity is under attack, and we have to all stand together. Everyone has to be able to contribute to this fight. Those two boys you’re taking under your wing are only the beginning. We have to start helping the rest of Korea and the family members of anyone stationed here know how to fend for themselves. So yes, Lieutenant, I grant you permission to use the training grounds on those two boys and help them hone their skills. You will be kept under close watch, and if you are able to turn them into bona fide soldiers within three months, your techniques will be implemented in our civilian defense program.”

Porter stared at the general, slack jawed at this, but he quickly collected himself. “Yes, sir! Thank you so much! I won’t let you down!”

“Alright, Lieutenant. Now go out and help us in defeating this threat.”




The news was on the base cafeteria’s TV almost all day long. It was important to keep up on current events nowadays, especially on what was going on all over the world as of this time. This was their window to the rest of the world outside of Korea.

It had been about a week since Queen Elizabeth’s death. Her defiance and dying words became something of a symbol for soldiers everywhere, inspirational in fact. It was becoming known as the “Balmoral Address”.

Yon-Soo, Porter and Hyong-Jin, along with the other soldiers, watched the newest report to come out of England. Crews were cleaning the damage and charred remains of Balmoral Castle. There were even a few ponies, natural born ponies, of course. Of note was Ambassador Lyra Heartstrings, who gave a helping hoof. She worked manually, not once using her magic.

Hyong-Jin maliciously spat, “Why would there be ponies helping them? They hate all humans right? Why haven’t they been locked up and have the key thrown away?”

Yon-Soo cringed at that, and immediately replied, “Hey, look, I’ve actually known a few ponies, and they are really nice. From what I remember they weren’t hateful or even rude to anyone just for being human. Porter, you can back me up on this, right?”

Porter shrugged and replied, “As far as I’m concerned, as long as they’re not brainwashed newfoal zombies, I don’t particularly care. But I’m pretty sure not all of them are nuts. The Ambassador looks like a decent pony.”

A news anchor, a male British voice, narrated the scene.

“Today is the memorial service of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the Second. All over Great Britain, people are mourning, sending their condolences to the family. In her death, the next in line, Prince Charles, is now King of England. Meanwhile crews are cleaning the damage of Balmoral Castle.”

The scene cut to the newly promoted King Charles, who stood at the podium somberly, joined by the rest of the royal family, some of whom looked like they had just cried or were about to.

“My mother, the late and great Queen Elizabeth, was truly one-of-a-kind,” he choked out, trying to remain composed. “Her rule as queen has been plagued by trouble and hardship, but she remained strong, a true example of a leader. She was more than just a royal leader however; she was also a woman of the people, who fixed airplanes in the Second World War, participated in foreign and domestic political affairs, and caring for all peoples within the realm. She was taken from us too soon, but she died fighting to deliver a message to a tyrant that seeks to destroy everyone and everything.

“Even though she is gone, she is not forgotten, and her legacy will live on, as we prepare our forces to fight this invading threat. God bless us all.”

The anchor picked up and continued, “And as people the world over prepare themselves for war against Equestria, Ambassador Lyra Heartstrings has come forward, proclaiming herself an ally of humanity, and delivering her own eulogy for Queen Elizabeth.”

The small light turquoise unicorn stepped up to the podium, her mane neatly brushed and pulled into a prim bun, and she wore a simplistic black dress for the occasion. By her side was an Earth pony with a cream colored coat and a half blue, half pink mane, known to the public as Bon Bon. Bon Bon was one of Lyra Heartstrings’ closest friends, her trusted confidante, and rumor had it that the two mares were lovers as well. Lyra adjusted her microphone and began to speak.

“In the time I’ve been here on Earth, getting to know and interact with humans, I’ve seen amazing things I couldn’t have ever dreamt of. When I realized the effects the potion had on a human’s mind and soul, I immediately renounced Equestria as my home country. Today, I make it official. I cannot stand by and let Queen Celestia trample over an entire world’s history, cultures and accomplishments for something as petty as power. What she speaks of is not harmony, but of tyranny and subjugation. I, and my friends in the Ponies for Human Life organization, seek to help all humanity and stop this madness.

“In my duties as ambassador, I knew Queen Elizabeth as a strong woman and a leader of faith and resolve. Her sacrifice shall not be in vain. I call upon all humans to take the call to arms. No amount of dedication is too great when the price for failure is the annihilation of everything humanity stands for. Today, is the day we fight back!”

People clapped, and even some soldiers in the cafeteria were excitedly chattering, commending Lyra’s defection from Equestria, especially as the news footage showed other native born Equestrian ponies defecting from their home country.

Hyong-Jin wasn’t completely on board though, remarking, “Hasn’t it occurred to anyone here that maybe she might be a spy?”

Both Yon-Soo and Porter looked at Hyong-Jin with befuddlement, before the latter simply said, “I seriously hope you’ve noticed the irony in that statement you’ve just made, Hyong-Jin.”

Hyong-Jin didn’t respond, but that did make him stop and think. Porter meanwhile, made a mental note not to let Hyong-Jin get carried away. He knew all too well how revenge could consume and destroy a person.




“This is the K1A, a submachine gun that can shoot out 700 to 900 rounds per minute. Its lighter weight makes it easily maneuverable and useful in tight spots,” Porter marveled as he gave Yon-Soo and Hyong-Jin their rifles.

The shooting range was fully equipped and expansive enough for quick training and skill polishing. As Yon-Soo picked up his gun, it felt solid but light in his hands. He aimed at the cardboard targets, some of which had been modified to look like ponies, and began shooting.

“Steady your aim and conserve your bullets! This is not like the video games where you’d find boxes of ammo conveniently lying around!” Porter yelled.

Yon-Soo tried to keep this in mind and make sure his trigger finger was steady. But it was very difficult. Even though the K1A was a bit lighter than the gun he had been equipped with back at the DMZ, Yon-Soo still had a hard time trying to get accurate shots and keeping the rifle steady. A whole minute felt like an hour when he ended up emptying the clip out and the shooting range was full of unused bullets. 

Most of the targets looked like Swiss cheese, but that didn’t seem like something Porter was aiming for.

Yon-Soo, embarrassed at his mistake, could only say sheepishly, “Um, oops.”

Porter smacked his palm against his face.

Hyong-Jin on the other hand couldn’t help but laugh.





“The first rule of sneak attacking – gauge your environment and shroud yourself in darkness. Be undetectable. Second rule – find an opening. And third, strike down your opponent before he has the chance to defend himself. Be quick, quiet and discreet.”

In the time Porter had spent training Hyong-Jin, he had seen may clear improvements in his performance. It probably also helped that Hyong-Jin was getting three square meals a day and was much more energetic these days as a result.

But the kid still had a very long way to go.

Hyong-Jin and Yon-Soo both seemed to respond well to close-quarter combat training, and as Hyong-Jin was able to tiptoe quietly through the darkened rooms and corridors, armed with only a blade, he made quick work of the stuffed dummies set up around there.

He then felt a gun behind his head and a click.

“Bang, you’re dead,” said Yon-Soo.

He had just come out of the corner and used what Porter taught him to his advantage, sneaking up on Hyong-Jin without making a single sound.

“Damn it!” the North Korean cursed as Porter turned the lights on.

“Okay, Hyong-Jin, you’re dead. You know why? Because you didn’t fully gauge your environment. There’s a blind spot in the corner. Always check, because it’s the little details that could make the difference between dying and surviving.”

The other man smiled, though a bit bitter at making this mistake, and replied, “Thanks Porter. Looking back on it now, I’m really glad I decided to come with you. Who knows what would’ve happened to me if I didn’t.”

“Indeed.





“Studying English is so hard!” Hyong-Jin complained, throwing the textbook aside. Not only did he have to learn how to fight effectively, but he also had to start learning a whole different language too.

Well, two in fact. North and South Koreans spoke a different version of the language, caused by not only regional dialect differences, but the South’s contact with English and Japanese speakers caused new words and pronunciations to come up, causing a new kind of difficulty for defectors and refugees trying to make a new life in the south.

Yon-Soo could sympathize. It was required of all schools in the south to teach students how to speak English, but it was a difficult language to master. It was not just reading a new alphabet, but a whole different grammatical structure as well.

The tutor was a patient man though and smiled, saying, “I know it’s difficult, but you need to apply yourself to this. Yon-Soo tells me you’re very dedicated to your soldier training. This should require the same dedication.”

Hyong-Jin sighed, picked his book back up, and began again.





Ever since Porter agreed to help train him and Hyong-Jin, Yon-Soo had taken up to the habit of becoming more of a morning person. He actually had come to like it as time went on, going to bed and waking up earlier, and actually keeping to his schedule. Jogging was always something he liked doing for exercise, but the former actor/pop idol/model turned soldier now could feel a better purpose for it.
The morning was crisp and cool, the sun rising just overhead as Yon-Soo took it in. He had learned over time to savor these little things, because he knew any day now he would be called out to the front lines.

Once he was finished with his run, Yon-Soo went to meet Porter and Hyong-Jin at the training camp cafeteria. The food was alright, consisting largely of American cuisine. For breakfast, they were having toast, scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, hash browns and anything else that could be taken from the line of food and put on a tray. As Yon-Soo was about to sit down, a young soldier burst into the eating hall, looking utterly frightened.

“Guys, everyone, look at the TV! The news! They’re saying North Korea was bombed!” he yelled.

That got everyone looking at the television in the room, as someone changed the channel to the news. And the news anchor, a square jawed man with neatly combed black hair, solemnly confirmed what the young man said.

“At approximately 6 am today, the Russian government, at the urging of the Chinese, released two nuclear missiles onto the North Korean region. Reporting from the DMZ now is Jennie Mendes. Jennie?”

Jennie Mendes, a young Hispanic woman, who was bundled up in a thick coat as she was surrounded by the backdrop of several patrol guards and soldiers at the patrol area Yon-Soo recognized as the same one and his friends passed through, said to the camera, “Yes, Richard, like you said, the North Korean region was indeed bombed by nuclear missiles that were Russian in origin. Although sources and information are scarce, it is believed their reasons lay with how the PER – Ponification for Earth’s Rebirth – successfully were able to convert the majority of the population. The Chinese military stationed at the border they shared with the country reported that the former North Koreans-turned-newfoals swarmed them by the hundreds of thousands!”

The news footage then cut to some choppy video recording of Chinese soldiers desperately firing at what looked like waves of smiling newfoals. Even as they were getting shot at by the droves and their bodies torn apart by the soldier’s bullets and grenades they just kept coming, like a plague of zombies. They didn’t scream in pain as they were shot, didn’t run away in fear, and their faces still frozen in those blank, glassy-eyed smiles.

“Good God,” Porter whispered, all color drained from his face. “I always had a feeling someone would resort to their nukes. Never thought this would happen though…”

Jennie continued, “The patrolmen stationed at this military checkpoint have uncovered evidence that Queen Celestia’s Royal Guards and the newfoals were trying to build a portal station in what was once Pyongyang to gain entry to Equestria. On top of that, attacks at the border between the borders of China and Russia already having claimed several humans and adding to their number prompted China to resort to getting rid of the threat before it could spill over from both sides. Although the Chinese and Russian governments have yet to release an official statement, there is no denying that this is a sign the war is only bound to escalate and get worse.”

The entire room burst into nervous chatter. If the Russians resorted to using their nukes, what could happen next? What about all the radioactive fallout? Who else died in that bombing besides newfoals, Royal Guards and PER agents?

Yon-Soo let his gaze wander over to Hyong-Jin, who had seen the news report and understood enough of what was being said to know his home country had been incinerated to the ground. He looked like he had just mentally shut down.

“Hyong-Jin…” he tried to reach out to his friend, but the other man ran out.

Porter said, “Let him go, Yon-Soo. He’s already gone through a lot. I think it is best we leave him alone.”

Yon-Soo wasn’t so sure. Hyong-Jin had already lost his father, and then the rest of his family and friends to the Equestrians, and now, his whole home country was nuked to the ground. He was pretty sure Hyong-Jin could do something drastic, so he ignored Porter and ran after him.

Yon-Soo managed to find Hyong-Jin quickly. He was sitting at the swimming pool area, looking into the sky, clearly utterly miserable.

Suddenly he said, “You want to know how my father died?”

Before Yon-Soo cound reply, Hyong-Jin continued, “It happened when I was about nine years old. I lived in the more rural parts on Tanchon, and most of the time, people were hungry and we often had to find all kinds of ways of getting whatever we could get our hands on when the food rations weren’t enough. My father was actually a football player, but he never got up to playing any international games. He supported us by doing whatever odd jobs he could, no matter how dangerous.

“When he got a job at this coal mine, my mother and I hoped that this would finally get us something better. But then, about two or so years into the job, he had inhaled enough coal dust and smoke from the burning coal that he became horribly sick. He would cough out blood and there was nothing the doctor my mother managed to bring from the city could do about it. Just a week before he died, he told me that I would be the man of the house once he was gone, and I promised him that I would take up his responsibilities and take care of the family. He died in his sleep a month after my ninth birthday; three after my little sister was born. The doctor said he coughed out too much of his lungs that he just couldn’t breathe anymore.”

Hyong-Jin began to cry, his fists tight and his whole body shaking. He looked at Yon-Soo, and there was rage in his eyes.

“Why?! Why did this have to happen to us? Why do good people have to suffer and the bad get away with everything?!”

Yon-Soo cringed, not really knowing how to respond to that. Sure, he, like everyone else in South Korea (if not the whole world) knew that life in the North was a miserable existence that amounted to desperately trying to survive day-to-day. But he had never seen the face of suffering until now. Yon-Soo had never seen someone who had literally lost everything.

And the worst part was that there was nothing he could say to comfort him. All he could do was take Hyong-Jin into his arms and let the man vent out his anger and grief.

“I hate them,” Hyong-Jin spat venomously. “I hate them all. The government that let my father die and my people starve, and the Equestrians that brought this down on us. I will make the Equestrians and the PER pay!”





Two weeks later…

Ever since the news reports came about the bombing in North Korea, Hyong-Jin had thrown himself into his training with a single-minded ruthlessness that worried Porter and Yon-Soo. His performance had skyrocketed, but the way he was going became troubling.

Yon-Soo himself had also made a lot of improvements as well. He had learned to become a far steadier shot, as well as mindful of the limited resources he would have out on the battlefield. He loved the feeling of sneaking and being quick. It was like doing everything in one take, and Yon-Soo had to admit, he was excited by the possibility of going out on the front lines and giving the ponies some proper payback.

But only a little bit. He knew war was not something to be taken lightly.

He had taken to martial arts again too, mostly Hapkido. It was a quick martial art that emphasized hard hits in close quarters combined with fast thinking and control of the opponent. Porter himself had basic CQC martial arts training that allowed for a philosophy of dishing only a few hits that were nonetheless hard and devastating. The trio was inside of a gym now, watching the instructor help them meditate. It was to help clear the mind he said.

“Remember,” said the master, “revenge is like ripping the stitches out of an open wound. It is poison. He who fights for revenge lets himself become as bad, if not worse, that the perpetrators.”

Yon-Soo reflected on that for a moment. Of course, he knew what he was fighting for – humanity’s survival, and to get the ponies off of Earth. But Porter and Hyong-Jin were the ones he was worried about, the latter most especially.

He didn’t like the thought of Hyong-Jin going in like some crazy person and risk life and limb for the sake of avenging his family.





“This right here is the K5 pistol. It’s a 9 mm semi-automatic with an ambidextrous safety lock, three-dot sights, an effective range of 50 meters and a block which stops the firing pin from moving forward unless the trigger is pulled, making this a simple but effective pistol for close quarters combat,” the weapons expert at the base told the two as he went over the list of the best weapons for their fighting type.

Yon-Soo gripped the pistol firmly, his shots having become a lot steadier and faster as his training continued. He still wasn’t a very violent person by nature, but he knew he had to put any delicate sensibilities he had aside when the time came.

As Porter and the general both examined the range, they both nodded with approval.





It was now the end of their three month long trial, and Porter was confident and nervous at the same time. He had seen many improvements in Yon-Soo and Hyong-Jin’s performances and prowess, but that general he appealed to was definitely a perfectionist who wanted to know he hadn’t wasted his time on the three.

He, Yon-Soo and Hyong-Jin were being tested in a training exercise now, being tested on their close quarter battle prowess. Porter himself was at the head of the trio, armed with a K7 submachine gun outfitted with a suppressor. Being the man with most experience of them, he was the main leader, and silent communicator.

Yon-Soo was armed with the K1A, a rifle he had become very adept at using nowadays, along with the K5 pistol, and a jack knife he kept in his boot. He covered Porter by the sides. He was focused and sharper than a razor, with the intention of keeping his fellow soldier safe.

Hyong-Jin carried the K2 assault rifle, covering the other two from behind, keeping watch for their backs. Over the last three months he had become a lot more robust, tougher and faster. Better nutrition, exercise and healthcare had turned him from a skinny kid who could barely lift his gun to a quick-on-his-feet fighter. He stayed watch from behind, covering them from any possible surprise attacks.

They scouted the corridor making sure there were no sentries around before declaring it safe to enter the room where the fake hostage was being held. Porter kicked the door down, and Yon-Soo shot at them both with his gun, which was specially fitted for paintballs so as to not kill anyone. Hyong-Jin scouted the whole room to make sure of no one hiding in corners while staying by the door to keep watch.

It was fast and quick, but only the first part. Yon-Soo took the mannequin that served as their rescued hostage, and they ran out of the building, as Porter and Hyong-Jin covered him from front and back, clearing their way until they exited the corridor.

The general clapped his hands, nodding with approval and he said, “Very good, gentlemen. Lt. Stanley, you’ve exceeded my expectations. You took two civilians and turned them into tough, bona fide soldiers in three months. Yon-Soo, Hyong-Jin, you have both also gained my respect. You worked hard, and it shows.”

All three men couldn’t help but beam with the praise they were getting.

“And your success is more than enough proof that with enough intensive training, regular civilians can become tough fighters as well. The PER is still active, as is the Queen’s forces, and every able-bodied person has to be able to contribute to the fight.”

Porter curiously asked, “So now what should we do?”

The general admitted, “We aren’t quite sure yet, but with your skills, we’re likely going to put you in charge of guarding military resistance bases that are closer to where the barrier could hit.”

Yon-Soo was a bit scared, he couldn’t lie to himself. Going to another country in itself was already pretty scary, but someplace close to Equestria was pushing it. Those would be the hotspots of Royal Guard and PER activity.

“When would we leave if you decide to send us someplace else?” Hyong-Jin asked.

“It depends.”

The three looked at each other, apprehensively.





Two and half weeks later…

“St. Petersburg?! Seriously?” Yon-Soo asked incredulously.

Porter remarked, “Look, man, I don’t like it any more than you do, but orders are orders. The Russians need all the help they can get at this point to keep the ponies from swarming the rest of the country from the western border. The general figured we were the best for the job.”

Hyong-Jin also didn’t like it. The Russians were the ones that sent out the missiles that destroyed most of North Korea, and from what he had learned in his reeducation during his training days, the Russians were the ones that caused the Korean War and ultimately were responsible for why his country had been so destitute and controlled for so long.

“When would we have to leave?” Yon-Soo asked, sighing with resignation.

“In two days. We’ll have to pack up only what we need, and you’d have to say goodbye to your family. But don’t tell them where you’re going,” Porter told him.

And so over two, very short days, Yon-Soo, Porter and Hyong-Jin packed their bags. Clothes, books and MP3 players were pretty much all they could really bring. Yon-Soo’s mother naturally sobbed her eyes out when Yon-Soo told her he was going out on the front lines. By contrast, Porter’s parents, though scared for his safety, knew he would be able to take care of himself.

Hyong-Jin himself had made friends with refugees and defectors, other former North Koreans who were also devastated and heartbroken by the news of their old home being bombed, and their families and friends left behind most certainly dead. Before he left, they gave him their prayers and let him know what he meant to them.

Hope.
> The St. Petersburg Diaries
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 4: The St. Petersburg Diaries


St. Petersburg, Russia, June 2020 AD

Ever since arriving in Russia, Yon-Soo had learned to expect the unexpected. Russia was always seen as a country of stark contrasts. Urban sophistication and consumerism in the cities greatly contrasted the poverty of rural, less affluent areas. People here were fairly amiable, even if they sometimes came off as a little shady. The soldiers Yon-Soo met at the outpost were tough, hardened people who actually had a sense of humor, even if it was dark at times.

Yon-Soo was surprised it wasn’t always cold in Mother Russia. In fact, this summer was actually a pretty warm one, with beautiful flowers blooming everywhere and bees buzzing around gathering their share of pollen and nectar. Yon-Soo had never tasted more delicious varieties of honey in his life.

But now wasn’t the time to savor sweets.

The outpost in St. Petersburg was always pretty busy. Aside from constantly having to patrol vigilantly for any Newfoals, PER, or Royal Guards, Yon-Soo and the other soldiers here had to keep their ears and eyes open for any new information on the other side of the battle and on the other fronts.

But possibly their most important duty was to train.

Word had gotten out about Porter’s ability to turn Yon-Soo and Hyong-Jin from scared civilians to good frontline soldiers, and the fact that the American and South Korean military were planning to implement some of his methods while teaching civilians how to defend themselves against anyone trying to ponify them.

Yon-Soo looked at the “class” he had in front of him, and had to suppress the urge to shake his head. The majority of them were fairly young kids, mostly in their teens. The youngest was a boy that couldn’t have been any older than twelve.

Yet another thing the Solar Tyrant would have to pay for; robbing these innocent kids of their futures, forcing them to take up arms and be a part of this horrible war.

Yon-Soo didn’t like it, but he would have to deal with it for the time being. Right now, they were all at war for a battle for humanity’s survival, and any and all able-bodied people would have to contribute in some way.

“Alright class,” Yon-Soo said to them in English, with the toughest voice he could muster, “my name is Yon-Soo. I’m from South Korea, and I’m your teacher in the ways of guerilla combat. I know most of you are scared-”

“Us, scared?” one of the kids, a fourteen year old boy interrupted. “As if! We all want to learn how to fight as soon as possible, right guys?!”

The rest of the class muttered in Russian to each other, for the most part disagreeing with this kid. They were scared and nervous.

Yon-Soo could understand. He was never really a fighter, but had to buckle down for the sake of this fight, and because he didn’t want to just be a passive load that got converted without a fight. Even though he knew he’d sooner die than be ponified. He reasserted himself.

“Okay, look everyone. I know you’re all nervous, with the exception of this one outburst. Trust me, I have been in your shoes before. I don’t like the idea of fighting either, but it’s something you all have to train for. The Solar Tyrant doesn’t care if you’re kids or not, she and her agents can and will shove potions down your throats and turn you into mindless pony-shaped drones that will worship her and blindly follow her like slaves. Do any of you want to die like that?”

The kids became quiet as they thought for a moment, a few of them collectively shivering with horror. A girl answered, “I certainly wouldn’t want to be. I like being human.”

“Me too!!” yelled the twelve year old.

So the class all listened as Yon-Soo explained different types of guns to them, combat strategies, and finally, being able to shoot.

The kids were clearly scared out of their minds handling the guns. It pained Yon-Soo in fact to see Maria, a girl no older than fourteen years old who was as sweet and gentle as any girl could be, struggle as she held her rifle, trying to fire at the target.

Children should never have to fight like this. They should be at school, be playing outside, with no worries or cares.

Yon-Soo swore to himself that if he ever met the Tyrant face to face, he would give her pain.




Porter hated to admit it, but he was worried, and Yon-Soo shared the same sentiment.

From what little news they could gather these days, as most communication lines were down due to the barrier’s expansion, the guys had more than enough reason to. The Ponies for Human Life were teaming up with the UN security forces to find ways to not only save as many people as possible, stop the Equestrians still loyal to Celestia from adding more to their number of newfoals, but also try to find a way to stop the barrier’s expansion.

He wasn’t a pessimist by nature, but he had a bad feeling that this was going to be nothing short of almost impossible.

But what really got Porter worried was the Human Liberation Front. News was rare, and rumors gotten from the grapevine was about as trustworthy as a bucket of sour cream that was a month past its sell by date, but from what he gathered, the HLF was definitely a pretty extreme bunch.

His family was capable of caring for themselves, thanks to his father having served in the Gulf War of the early 90s, and his mother learning self defense for herself. If the shit hit the fan, they had somewhere to go, know how to survive, and they wouldn’t go down without a fight either.

No, what really had him worried was Hyong-Jin. Even though it was very strongly discouraged on base, strongly anti-pony talk still went on frequently here. And Hyong-Jin usually listened to it and even agreed with those sentiments.

Of course, Hyong-Jin had good reasons to hate the Equestrians, but Porter knew from firsthand experience that letting your hatred of the enemy consume you was never a good thing. He had seen many good soldiers lose their lives by letting their hatred cloud their judgment.

He wondered too if Hyong-Jin had a death wish.

***
“Attention, everyone! Today, our facility is hosting some very important guests,” the main commanding officer announced. “I know this news has come on very short notice, but I expect things will still be neat and orderly when our guests arrive.”

“Who are these guests?” another Russian soldier asked.

“The head of the Ponies for Human Life, Ambassador Lyra Heartstrings, and the Commander of the United Nations Military Forces Marcus Renee. They will be accompanied by a few other ponies and soldiers.”

Upon hearing the name Marcus Renee, Yon-Soo noticed that a strange look cross Porter’s face, as if it reminded him of something. But his attention was quickly diverted to something else that was much more… aggravating.

“Ponies?” Hyong-Jin asked sharply. “Why let them here?”

Porter was about to tell Hyong-Jin to be quiet, but Yon-Soo was a step ahead of him. He angrily grabbed Hyong-Jin by the arm, dragging him out of the cafeteria and towards a quieter hallway, secluded from the other soldiers. When Yon-Soo was sure they were alone, he angrily glared at his fellow soldier.

“Seriously, what is up with you? Do you realize how you’re sounding?”

Hyong-Jin angrily shot back, “Well why should anyone give any kindness to the aliens trying to exterminate us all?”

“Because, I’ve read a lot of things about Ambassador Heartstrings and what she’s done, and she is, from what I can tell, the real deal. Did it ever occur to you that not every pony agrees with what Queen Celestia’s doing?”

“But-”

“Look, Hyong-Jin, I know you have a lot of reasons to hate the Equestrians, and I don’t blame you for feeling that way. But for God’s sake, you have got to let this prejudice go. Queen Celestia and the ponies that follow her cause talk about us humans as being a bunch of evil, hate-filled savages who need conversion to be saved. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to prove them right in any way.”

Hyong-Jin only scowled and Yon-Soo had to suppress the urge to pull out his own hair and growl in frustration. It really annoyed him just how stubborn the other man was. He had to admit, he really hoped maybe some facetime with actual ponies, ones that did support the humans, could change Hyong-Jin’s mind.




“Everyone, raise a welcome to Ambassador Lyra Heartstrings and her escorts, as well as to Colonel Marcus Renee!” the commanding officer yelled out.

A small group of ponies emerged from the bus. At the front was Lyra. Yon-Soo noted that the ponies, on average, were really small. Following Lyra was the mare Yon-Soo recognized as Bon-Bon, as well as three stallions wearing outfits reminiscent of a formal military uniform. 

The first one was a pegasus with a stocky build, and he possessed a crimson red coat, blue eyes, and a short dual-colored mane and tail that looked like fire. He had a cutie mark of two swords crossed over a shield. 

The other escort was an earth pony, and he looked a bit older with a weathered look to his green eyes, a tan colored coat, grey mane and tail, and a silver horseshoe cutie mark.

The last one surprised Yon-Soo the most - this one was like a miniature zebra, stripes and all. He was tall and lithe in frame, with dark eyes, a spiky mane that had blue streaks running through it, and a cutie mark of a spear.

Marcus Renee didn’t look like a slouch either. He was a tall, imposing man with short brown hair, and a very hardened look in his eyes that spoke of a man that saw more than enough horrifying things over his life. He wore a simple green US Marine uniform. A few other soldiers in similar camouflage uniforms came along, one black, two Hispanic, and another white.

They came up to the commanding officer, Colonel Renee shaking his hand and the CO giving a courteous hello to the ponies. They took their seats while Marcus went to the microphone and began to speak.

“Hi, as you all know, I’m Marcus Renee, commanding officer of the PHL and UN task forces, and I’m here as part of a tour I’m doing in order to evaluate everyone’s performance. I am personally grateful for everything that everyone here has done, from our pony allies that lay their lives down for the human race, and to the great people that are fighting the good battle to preserve our species. Thank you to all of you, and good luck out there.”

Everyone clapped for a moment until Lyra took the stand. She adjusted the microphone to her height and began to speak.

“Hello everyone. I am Lyra Heartstrings, former ambassador of Equestria. Like Colonel Renee, I’m very grateful for the great work everyone is doing here. I know it’s still pretty difficult for some of you to wrap your heads around this current situation, but if we all pull together, we can and will find a way to stop this madness and have true peace and friendship between us. Thank you, and good luck to all of you.”

The room clapped for her as she took her seat next to the Colonel and her other escorts. The CO of the base took the stand as well and announced into the mic, “Okay, everyone here is to demonstrate our capabilities as a defense base. Our civilian training division and offense division will be noted the most. Now get back to work!”

“YES SIR!” everyone saluted before scrambling back to their posts.

Yon-Soo himself got up from his seat and was about to go with Hyong-Jin back to their post and show Colonel Renee and Lyra their work as civilian trainers, but Porter almost single mindedly ran over to Marcus, who also approached them. The looks on their faces were strange, as if they were nostalgic or something.

“Marcus! I can’t believe it,” Porter breathed.

“Porter? It’s really you?” Marcus asked him, shocked.

“Yeah, it is. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

Marcus nodded and replied, “Years in fact.”

Yon-Soo couldn’t help himself now. This was just like a plot right out of a soap opera and though he felt cheesy doing this, he had to.

“Will someone here please just explain what’s going on?! Just how do you two know each other?”

Porter sheepishly said, “Well, you remember I told you a while ago that my father was a Gulf War veteran?”

When Yon-Soo and Hyong-Jin nodded, Porter continued, “Well, Marcus’ father was also a veteran in that same war. They fought in the same squad, and well…”

“My dad gave his life to save his soldiers during a skirmish gone bad. Porter’s dad was one of them,” Marcus finished solemnly.

“Oh…” Yon-Soo whispered. He could easily visualize it, and it frightened him. He could see the clear grief in Marcus’ face, and the equally solemn one on Porter’s face.

“A couple months later, I went to the funeral with my family. My dad… he really didn’t know how to feel. He really felt like he shouldn’t have survived that. Everyone tried to be strong that day, but it was just too much. I was too young to really understand what was going on. It wasn’t until later that I understood the implications,” Porter reminisced.

“Wow,” said Hyong-Jin. He could understand the feeling; the survivor’s guilt, wondering why you survived when someone else died.

“He never forgot. Dad still pays his respects every year, thanking Marcus’ dad for saving his life at the cost of his own,” Porter added. “He still kept in touch with Marcus’ mom, on and off, over the years. How is she by the way?”

The look on Marcus’ face darkened, and the three other men all could feel the dread hit them. Bad news was coming for sure…

Marcus simply said, “She’s dead.”

“Oh God…” Porter gasped, “what happened?”

“It was when Celestia’s troops and the PER attacked the world’s top political figures. You remember Jacob, right?”

Porter nodded. Right now, he really hated that sick feeling developing in his gut; he just knew even more bad news was coming. He replied, “Yeah, your little brother. He was just a baby at the funeral, last time I remember.”

“Jacob grew up to be a Secret Service agent. He helped to get the President and his family to safety before the PER came, but…”

Everyone’s blood ran cold. They all understood too well what Marcus would say next. 

Hyong-Jin was the first to find his voice. “He got ponified, didn’t he?”

Marcus growled, “Yes, by Celestia’s little drone, Twilight Sparkle. When we saw this on TV, mom was just completely heartbroken. The stress and strain were too much for her already fragile health, and she suffered a severe heart attack. The doctors did everything they could, but it was too late. She died about an hour later.”

The three other men became quiet. Marcus had lost the last two surviving members of his family in rapid succession thanks to this war. Hyong-Jin could more than empathize with that. Yon-Soo, meanwhile, had to admit that knowing this made him all the more grateful his own family was still alive and well.

Porter was too young to remember much about her, but what little he did remember of Megan Renee was that she was very kind and loving. The fact that she had managed to maintain that horse ranch all those years and raise her two sons by herself also spoke of a strong and resilient person. He now really regretted never getting back in touch with her.

‘After this war is over, I’ll visit her grave. Say goodbye and pay my respects to her,’ Porter promised himself.

Marcus decided to change the subject, “So from what I’ve been told, you three have been helping out with civilian training. Mind showing me?”

Yon-Soo piped up, “Of course, Colonel! Follow me!”

As they were about to go to the training quarters, one of the ponies suddenly ran up to them. It was the red pegasus.

“Hey, let me come along too! I’m very curious to see this stuff!” he said.

Marcus looked at the stallion and replied, “You sure, Firebrand?”

Firebrand nodded with assurance, and began to look over the other three men. Yon-Soo noticed the look on Hyong-Jin’s face. It was a rather hard, stony expression, but thankfully, he did hold his tongue.

“Well,” Porter said quickly to break the awkward pause, “let’s get going.”

As they walked Yon-Soo decided to try striking up a conversation with Firebrand, and hopefully, even get Hyong-Jin in on it.

“So, Firebrand, how did you get your cutie mark?” Yon-Soo asked.

Firebrand looked at him and replied, “Oh this thing? Well, I was a little colt at the time I got it. Basically, this new pony came to my school, and he was kind of an easy target for these bullies because he was very small and shy, and they would not leave him alone. I couldn’t stand watching them hurt him like that, especially because the teachers were so bad at being able to stop it, so I decided to stick up for him myself. They just laughed at me as well, and I was kind of small when I was a foal, but I fought them off as best as I could. Even though I did get hurt pretty bad during the fight, I was able to drive them away. When it was all over, the school nurse and the pony I defended pointed out that I had gotten my cutie mark, and I realized then that my special talent was helping those that couldn’t fend for themselves.”

Yon-Soo smiled at that, and said, “That’s a really noble thing to do.”

Hyong-Jin was listening to this, and he had to admit, he agreed with Yon-Soo. Bullies had always been a problem in his own school growing up. He remembered bitterly how some kids frequently would step all over each other just to get the others’ food or possessions…

They approached the training room, where several regular looking civilians of all ages and walks of life were waiting. They stood up, saluting the soldiers as they walked into the room.

Marcus nodded to them, giving them the go-ahead to begin. Porter quickly got to business and said, “Alright class, today, we’ll be going over close quarter combat situation training. This is not only a very physically demanding exercise, but it also requires quick thinking. Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir!” the classroom said in unison.

The class was divided into three sections for each teacher. Yon-Soo taught his portion of the class how to load and safely handle weapons. Hyong-Jin covered close physical combat. Porter went over movements, strategies and formations. Marcus closely examined each man carefully, watching how well their students were absorbing their lessons and how effectively each individual instructor went over their material.

Firebrand remarked to Marcus, “Seeing how humans battle in real life is really different from all those movies I watched with my friends when we first arrived here. Why is that?”

Marcus just shrugged and replied, “Dramatic effect and rule of cool basically.”

“Oh,” was all the pegasus could say in response as the class was being wrapped up for the day. Many of the students looked tired, but fairly satisfied with the training they had gotten, and said good bye to their teachers as they all left, ready to implement what they learned today outside should things go downhill.

Marcus had to admit that he was impressed. He clapped for them, nodding in approval. “You guys definitely lived up to the hype. Everyone will have to learn how to fight and defend themselves. I can definitely see your teaching methods being very effective for training civilian resistance fighters. Congrats.”

“Thanks,” said Yon-Soo, feeling a rush of pride.

Marcus replied, “No need to thank me. Just simply stating the truth.”

Firebrand pointed out, “We ponies are gonna need some training too, don’t forget that!”

Marcus cracked a slight smile and replied, “Of course, Firebrand. But you already have some training.”

Firebrand tapped a hoof at the floor and said, “Only training, Marcus. No experience.”

“Don’t worry Fires, you’ll probably be out there helping out soon enough.”

And with that, the rest of the visit went on without a hitch. A general test of the soldiers’ combat abilities followed as well as an examination of their readiness for when the war would inevitably escalate. Everything was perfect; equipment, information gathering, fighting prowess and soldier morale was all good.

As the inspection went on, Yon-Soo also noted that Hyong-Jin was interacting with and actually getting along pretty well with the ponies. He and Porter both had to breathe a sigh of relief that this visit did help their friend with his old prejudices. Firebrand in particular was someone they all really liked and they had to admit they would miss him when he left.

And so, with their own work done, the visitors were getting ready to leave. Lyra had joined with Marcus as he conversed with the guys to say his goodbyes.

“I’m really sorry about what happened to Jacob and your mom,” Porter sincerely said to Marcus. “I wish I could’ve talked to them again.”

Marcus nodded and replied, “It happens through war, though. Your folks are doing okay though, right?”

Porter replied, “Yeah, they know how to take care of themselves. So far, they’re alive and well, helping the Human Liberation Front with destroying the old conversion bureaus.”

Suddenly, Lyra began to join in, saying, “Wait, did you say they were with the HLF?”

“Uh, yes, why?”

Lyra looked shifty and apprehensive as she replied. “Well, if I were you, I’d contact them as soon as possible and let them know to be really careful. The HLF certainly mean well, but they have been known for going over the line. I’ve seen some reports that many innocent ponies, even those that publicly defected from Equestria, have been harassed, even killed, by the more extreme factions of that group. Also, keep in mind of the fact that information these days can be sketchy at best. Given how brash the HLF are, that could get them, and your family, in trouble.”

Porter nodded grimly, knowing where Lyra was coming from. He hated that he barely was able to keep much contact with his family; aside from contact channels being limited as they were, information in general was difficult to come by. He was willing to trust Lyra, but would his family be able to trust the ponies they came by?

“I’ll keep that in mind Lyra. I know my family is capable of handling themselves, but it won’t hurt to let them know. Thanks.”

Lyra smiled slightly before her gaze shifted to Firebrand. “What’s up, Fires? You look like you have something to say. Tell me.”

“Well,” Firebrand stammered somewhat, “Miss Heartstrings, you’ve always encouraged me to look carefully and chase after what I really want ever since I was kicked out of the Royal Guard training program. I’ve done some looking, especially during the tour, and I think I’ve realized what I need. I want to stay here, with these guys.”

Lyra and Marcus’ eyes widened at this, Marcus himself asking, “Are you sure, Firebrand? I mean, this is a little spur-of-the-moment here.”

“I know,” the stallion admitted, “but I just have a feeling in my gut that I’m needed here, and I want to be here. I want to help these people out. And I really like Hyong-Jin and Yon-Soo and Porter. I feel, no… I know I can help a lot here and help them. If I can, Miss Heartstrings, I’d like to stay here with the St. Petersburg base soldiers and help them here.”

Yon-Soo seemed a bit flustered by that revelation as he asked, “We really made that much of an impression with you, Firebrand? In such a short time no less?”

“Yeah,” the red pegasus answered. “You and Porter are really great guys and I want to help you. And I also really like Hyong-Jin too. I know he didn’t like us ponies much at first, but I can see he’s starting to realize we’re not all bad, and I want to help him with moving past that too.”

Lyra smiled. “Oh Firebrand, I am more than happy to let you follow your heart. If you know staying here will help you discover yourself and contribute to them, then it’s not my place to hold you back. You are free to be here. But that doesn’t mean we won’t miss you.”

Firebrand’s wings picked up with happiness and he grabbed Lyra in a hug, saying ecstatically, “Thank you so much, Miss Heartstrings! I will miss you too! Being your bodyguard was a great honor, and I won’t let you down here.”

Lyra returned the hug and added, “I know you’re a great pony, Fires. You go and be strong.”

“I will, Miss Heartstrings. You go keep doing your good work.”

“I promise.”




It had been a couple weeks since Lyra allowed Firebrand to stay at the base, and the pegasus’ stay here had a double-edged sword effect. One one hand, some soldiers took very well to him; others not so much.

“I mean, come on,” Cadet Markov whispered as he looked at Firebrand, who was eating his lunch peacefully across the mess hall, “why couldn’t we be told about him staying here? Didn’t that idiotic ambassador think about how we’d feel about a pony sharing room and supplies with us?”

“Hey!” Hyong-Jin cut in angrily. “What were you saying about Firebrand there? I don’t think he’d really like others talking about him behind his back!”

Markov rolled his eyes and angrily said, “Well, wasn’t your family ponified? It’s because of his kind that your home country is nothing more than a radioactive wasteland.”

“But your government was the one that launched those nukes!” the North Korean fired back angrily, really hating how Markov brought up such a touchy and personal piece of information against him.

It was then that nearly everyone in the mess hall began to turn towards the two, and there were scattered chatterings that a fight was about to brew. Markov and Hyong-Jin certainly looked like they were going to going come to blows on this one.

“It’s because of your country that my homeland turned into a desolate hellhole in the first place!” Hyong-Jin also added.

“Oh boo-hoo, and you all were brainwashed slaves of a fat tyrant. You’re no different from the newfoals in that way,” the Russian soldier sniped.

That got Hyong-Jin fired up. He angrily shoved Markov, who retaliated with a right hook to Hyong-Jin’s face. In a matter of seconds, things escalated, with the two men tackling each other, punching, kicking, pulling at and trying to beat the other. Although a few fellow soldiers were egging the two on, most of everyone else tried to separate them.

Yon-Soo and Firebrand were among them, as the former got between the two men while the latter tried to restrain Hyong-Jin.

“Hey, look, fighting amongst ourselves is not going to help matters! Stop this right now!” Yon-Soo sternly said to them, as he and a couple other sensible soldiers tried to hold Markov back. Firebrand wasn’t struggling too much to hold back Hyong-Jin either, but he certainly did not look comfortable.

“Alright, everyone, break it up!” a senior officer shouted at them. “Sergeant Park here is right; we should not fight amongst ourselves, especially when an enemy doesn’t care what nationality we are, as long as we’re all turned into the same as them.”

A few tense seconds passed before both men realized the senior officer was correct and backed off. Markov spat, “Well take it from me: be careful.”

Yon-Soo frowned. He could tell Markov wasn’t saying this out of concern for their well-being; he just simply wanted to get under everyone’s skin, especially his, Firebrand’s and Hyong-Jin’s.

The situation was diffused and everyone went back to their own work. But Yon-Soo had a few words to say.

“Look, Hyong-Jin, I’m glad that you’re giving the ponies a chance and sticking up for Firebrand, especially considering how you were a couple weeks ago, but don’t you think you should reign your temper in a little?” the South Korean asked.

Hyong-Jin shrugged, “Well, hey, they were talking trash about my friend here. I can’t let that slide.”

“Um, yeah, I happen to be right here guys,” Firebrand spoke up. He then hovered up to look at Hyong-Jin in the eye and continued, “And look, Hyong-Jin, I appreciate you’re trying to stick up for me, especially because most people are still suspicious of us ponies, but look, I’m not defenseless. I don’t want, or need, anyone to get mad on my behalf. If anyone talks trash about me, let me handle it myself. Okay?”

Hyong-Jin sighed. Maybe he was overcompensating a bit for his previous prejudices a bit. Still…

“Alright, Firebrand. But you are my friend, and one of the few I have. That’s kinda what we do for each other right?”

The fire red pegasus smiled and replied, “Of course. And I’d gladly stick my neck out for you too.”

Yon-Soo jokingly said, “Aw, come on now, you’re all being sappy!”

The trio couldn’t help but laugh, savoring the light moment.

A moment cut too short by Porter, who rushed towards them, with a look of urgency on his face.

“Whoa, what’s with you, Ports?” asked Firebrand. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

The American soldier said, “Everyone here needs to go to the training room right now. The CO and I found out some really serious matters we all have to attend to. Come on with me.”

The other three looked at each other, similar looks of dread crossing their faces. What kind of news could get Porter so riled up like this. They, as well as all of the other soldiers working on the base, followed Porter and the senior officers to the conference room.

Everyone collectively shared that sick feeling in the bottom of their stomachs, a bad feeling all around.

The CO looked no better; in fact he seemed rather scared.

He took a deep breath and grimly said, “The barrier around Equestria is expanding faster than we thought. Within a couple days, St. Petersburg will be wiped off the map. We have to evacuate this base, and get as many civilians as possible out of the city before it hits.”

> When the Metaphorical Crap Hits the Fan
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 5: When the Metaphorical Crap Hits the Fan



Editors/Co-Writers


Redskin122004


Doctor Fluffy


It had only been two hours since the CO announced that the barrier was coming closer to St. Petersburg, and kicked off the plans for evacuation. The entire base was on high alert, everyone scrambling to gather whatever was necessary, from munitions to spare toiletries. Yon-Soo couldn’t help but be reminded of that base he and the guys visited on the DMZ; the panicked atmosphere, everyone on their toes. He also noticed there were several buses and trucks being started up and checked for maintenance before being sent out, most likely to help out with civilian evacuations.

“What do we do first?” Firebrand asked, confused.

Porter took a second to collect himself as he replied in the calmest tone he could muster, “First, we need to pack our things. Get the essentials: weapons, ammo, food and water. Next, we have to get ourselves one of the armored trucks. Top priority should be evacuating as many civilians as we can and escaping the city before the barrier closes in.”

“Alright then,” Yon-Soo nodded with agreement. “Let’s get started.”

The three men and one pegasus stallion got to work. Yon-Soo helped Firebrand put a large pair of saddlebags over his back, and packed them with plenty of extra ammunition, a few grenades, and medical supplies. He and Hyong-Jin packed their own backpacks with food, water, and their favorite weapons. Porter carried the team’s spare ammo and weapon parts, all the while triple-checking everything to make sure nothing important was left behind.

“Alright, are you all ready?” Yon-Soo asked. He really tried not to show any fear in his voice, but couldn’t help himself. This was the first real fight he was now participating in, since that day at the DMZ trying to help hold off PER and Royal Guards from seeping into South Korea. Back then, he was a scared rookie way in over his head. Now, he was well-trained, a teacher himself, and all that he learned would be put to the test today.

The other three nodded, and ran outside. The warm and sunny weather felt like a betrayal of the atmosphere, but thankfully, it could allow for easier driving. One of the maintenance crew spotted them and motioned for them to come over to him.

“Alright,” the cadet said in thickly accented English, “I know that the Commander of the base gave you your own armored vehicle, Lt. Stanley. As of now, you have to have a maximum of nine other soldiers with you, and begin working immediately for evacuation procedures. Are you familiar with the protocol?”

“Yes, one hundred percent,” Porter answered firmly. “I’m already bringing Sergeants Park and Kang with me, along with Firebrand here. Any other soldiers will be welcome additions. Anything else, Cadet?”

“No. That’s pretty much all. Your vehicle number will be 8402-Romeo. Good luck out there.”

“Thanks, Cadet. Good luck to you too.”

The group quickly went off to find their transport. The armored trucks, Tigrs, were mostly built for transport purposes. They were large green monsters with what almost looked like a tent in the back, and an open back to allow for easy entry and exit. Several trucks were already leaving in different directions, getting ready to transport goods and civilians out of the city.

“Alright guys,” Porter announced to them, “we need to start our work. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Yon-Soo, Firebrand and Hyong-Jin nodded in unison. They had to wait until the rest of their squadron came before they could start the truck.

And immediately, Hyong-Jin had to suppress the urge to throttle something violently.

Markov was one of the soldiers in their squad, and it seemed like the feeling was mutual.

“Oh come on!” Hyong-Jin spat in Korean. “Whose bright idea was that he come with us?”

Yon-Soo had to wonder the same thing. He had to hope whoever put them together either didn’t know of the fight or had a very, very good reason.

Porter could sense what was going on, and immediately gave a warning look to both Hyong-Jin and Firebrand to let them know that any friction between them and Markov was very strongly discouraged. He started, “Alright, everyone here knows what our present mission is. Get in the vehicle, and Yon-Soo will be driving us to our designated areas to help evacuate as many people as we can. If any enemy sentries show up, do not hesitate to shoot. That includes any traitorous humans that allied themselves with the PER, Newfoals and Celestia’s Royal Guards. Show them no mercy! Are you ready?”

“YES SIR!” every soldier saluted before they entered the back of the Tigr. As Markov passed Hyong-Jin and Firebrand, they gave each other a look stating not to get in the other’s way.

“Alright,” Yon-Soo breathed in and out, trying not to let the excitement and anxiety get to him. “Let’s go.”

He flicked the ignition toggle, a measure introduced due to several soldiers complaining that a battle was the worst place to lose your keys, and started it up.




The whole municipal area was in chaos, to put it mildly. Sirens were blaring everywhere, and local law enforcement was having its hands full trying to get everyone it could to leave the area in as orderly a fashion as possible. Yon-Soo noticed several buses were being filled to the brims with scared and confused people, and there was even discarded items lying around on the streets, when their luggage was too heavy to take with them.

Porter announced to the squad, “Okay, this is the Kalininsky District. Population is around 470,000. So far, anyone that hasn’t already left is going to need help, or at least convincing to get out when they still can.”

Hyong-Jin asked, “Why wouldn’t anyone want to get out before the barrier hits?”

“There’s always someone,” was the offhanded reply of a soldier named Khan Aitmatov. He was one of the oldest Russian soldiers in the squad, and looked experienced enough to have fought for the country while it still belonged to the Soviets.  “Probably anyone that has lived here their entire lives. They’d probably rather die here than leave.”

“And those will be the hardest,” Yon-Soo solemnly had to agree. “And what if the enemy shows up?”

Porter simply said, “We stay vigilant, and if anyone sees enemy sentries show up, we have to get our weapons immediately and go to position. They’ll inevitably be armed with ponification serum, and we’ll have to protect every civilian we can. We cannot hesitate to shoot, especially if they’re newfoals. Now let’s get started.”

Yon-Soo went along with Porter and Markov to one small neighborhood to escort civilians out of there. It wasn’t too hard - they were mostly families and young people living here, and had already packed their belongings. They just needed help being escorted to their busses. So far, things seemed to be going a little smoothly.

Yon-Soo sighed as he watched the chaos continue to unravel around him. One woman was having a hard time trying to choose what things to bring with her. Markov had a headache trying to get her to hurry up if she didn’t want to miss the bus. Porter meanwhile looked somewhat paranoid; Yon-Soo couldn’t blame his friend. After all, the enemy could always use this chaos to their advantage, especially if there were PER members sneaking around.

“Ack, Mommy!” a small child’s voice called out. “I dropped Anna!”

Yon-Soo saw a little girl struggling against her mother’s grip, as they were trying to catch up to the rest of the line some police officers were escorting. Yon-Soo ran as fast as he could, about to grab the girl’s doll, but he wasn’t sure which one was “Anna.” There were more than a few children’s toys, from stuffed animals to dolls, scattered across the road, as well as discarded clothes, books, what looked like plates and kitchenware, and various other items. He felt his stomach drop at this sight. These people were being forced out of their homes, their lives completely turned upside down, and everything they knew and loved was being destroyed, all thanks to Queen Celestia and her barrier.

“Yon-Soo!” Porter barked out, “Stop dilly-dallying, and get back to your work!”

That shook Yon-Soo out of his reflection, and he resumed his duties, making sure every housing complex was empty. As he looked around, he then noticed his radio began crackling, and a familiar voice coming from it.

“Hello?! Yon-Soo? Porter? Can either of you hear me? It’s me, Firebrand!”

Yon-Soo picked his walkie-talkie up and immediately replied, “Read you loud and clear Firebrand. What’s going on?”

“Um, Hyong-Jin and I are having trouble. Some people are refusing to get up and evacuate the city.”

Yon-Soo frowned; he had a feeling this was going to happen at some point during the evacuation. He quickly replied, “Just wait for us. Porter and I are almost done with our sector.”

“Alright,” Firebrand said in an uneven tone. “We’ll try, but Hyong-Jin’s getting pretty worried right now. These people here are a rather stubborn bunch.”

Yon-Soo quickly ran back to where Porter and Markov were. They were helping to load what looked like the last bus. It didn’t escape the former actor/model/pop singer that the thing looked overstuffed with passengers.

“Guys, Firebrand just called me. He says that he, Hyong-Jin and their squad are having trouble with some people refusing to evacuate the city with them.”

Markov spat, “You’re going to trust him? For all you know, he could be setting you up for a trap.”

Porter tried to keep his frustration in check, but it was next to impossible right now. This whole situation was already stressful enough as it was, and Markov’s attitude towards Firebrand was the last straw. He gave Markov a glare that could make the freshest milk turn sour, and a hard tone that could rival steel.

“Markov? Not the time. There is a very fine line between wanting to be prepared for the worst, and going on baseless paranoia, and right now, you’re in the latter. I don’t care if your whole family was ponified or whatever, but Ambassador Heartstrings would not have kept Firebrand as her bodyguard and let him go to stay with us if she didn’t trust him with her life or ours. In the short time I’ve known him, Firebrand is a loyal, strong, and friendly pony doing what he does because he believes in the right thing, and I will not have you, or anyone here, make accusations against him with no basis in fact. Are we clear?!”

Markov shrank back, clearly looking like he would piss himself. He meekly answered, “Yes, understood,” as he grabbed his equipment.

As they exited the district, Yon-Soo whispered, “You really came close to really losing it, Porter. I’ve seen you get frustrated, but you still held it in.”

When the other man looked at him with slight surprise, Yon-Soo had to roll his eyes as he added, “Hey, I’ve known you for about a whole year now. I know you well enough to know you are good at keeping your cool, but even you have your limits, and while Markov was pushing it, I know that’s nowhere near your limit.”

Porter sighed and said, “Well I had to reprimand Markov for his attitude, and no one can afford me, of all people, losing their temper.”

Yon-Soo solemnly understood that one; no good could come from losing one’s temper, especially on the battlefield where the enemy could exploit it. The three men went through the Kalininsky district, which was almost completely evacuated. It was very eerily quiet, the only things left now were empty buildings that had been homes and places of work for the thousands of people that lived here a mere day ago, and the discarded possessions scattered across the streets.

Yon-Soo picked his walkie-talkie up again and turned it on, asking Firebrand, “Hey Firebrand, Porter and I are done with our sector. Things went pretty smoothly for us. Are you all still having trouble?”

“Yeah. For the most part, they’re pretty old people. Said they’d rather stay here and die than leave everything behind. But there is something else that’s worrying me.”

Immediately, both Porter and Yon-Soo knew what he meant.

“Shit!” Yon-Soo exclaimed, motioning to run now. “Enemy coming your way?”

“Unfortunately, yeah. They’re quite far away, but I can tell they’re pegasi, and they’re pulling pretty big carriages up in the sky. Most likely Royal Guards carrying unicorn and earth pony troops as well as spare potions.”

“Fuck…” Porter whispered with utter dread. He immediately composed himself and said into the walkie talkie, “Don’t worry, Firebrand! We’ll get there ASAP!”





The run felt way too long for Yon-Soo’s liking, but they finally made it. Firebrand and Hyong-Jin’s assigned district was for the most part empty, but there were still several busses waiting at the exit points. They were either empty or only had a few occupants. He had a very bad feeling about this, especially given the info Firebrand just gave them, and it seemed like the other soldiers and local law enforcement officers shared that sentiment.

A familiar red pegasus waved at them and the soldiers approached him.

“What’s exactly going on right now, Firebrand?” Porter asked him quickly.

As they began walking, Firebrand replied, “Well, it’s the fact that most of the people living in this neighborhood are pretty old. They all said they were born here and would prefer to die here. Hyong-Jin and the others are trying their best, and although a few did listen and packed their things, the rest just won’t move a muscle.”

Markov angrily said, “Don’t they realize that they’ll get ponified if they don’t leave?!”

“We tried to tell them that,” Firebrand replied impatiently, “but they’re a real stubborn bunch. Oh, I really have a bad feeling that this is only going to get worse.”

“You and me both,” Yon-Soo quipped grimly as they entered the building. It was a rather large, but nice looking nursing home for the elderly. Most of the medical supplies were already taken out of the place, and Yon-Soo didn’t see any medical staff or caretakers on duty. Those people most likely already left at the first evacuation call.

The main room Hyong-Jin was in looked like a recreational room, with some TVs showing the live news of the St. Petersburg evacuations, a large bookcase of books and board games, and tables and sofas. Several of these people were indeed elderly; a few were even in wheelchairs, and Yon-Soo noticed one man just staring blankly off in the distance.

“Look, ma’am, I know you’ve lived here your whole life, but you wouldn’t be dying here if you don’t leave. Most likely, Celestia’s soldiers will be coming here any moment now and convert every person here!” pleaded one of the Russian cadets, a short man by the name of Sergei.

“For the hundredth time, I don’t care,” said the old woman. “And besides, most of us have already lived out our lives. Yevgeny over there is 89 years old, confined to a wheelchair and has severe dementia. Do you really think evacuating him is worth it?”

“But don’t the rest of you have families?” Markov cut in. “I don’t think any of your kids, or grandkids would be happy if you all died here.”

The old lady sadly sighed as did many of the other residents. An old man then replied, “We know, but the truth is, most of us have already discussed these matters with our families. They were sad, but respected our wishes. I’d rather meet my maker on my own terms.”

The air in the room was solemn, and Yon-Soo had to admit, these people had a point. They had already lived their lives out and were ready to accept death.

Porter said, “Well, then let us help you out. You don’t have to die sitting down. A squadron of Celestia’s guards are coming, and I’m sure you’d all prefer to die as yourselves, correct?”

Most of them nodded, and another old lady said, “I’ll take some down myself if I have to. Don’t be afraid to shoot me if a potion hits me.”

“I promise,” Markov said, saluting. “We’ll protect y-”

It would have been simply rude for the universe not to respond to a challenge like that, at such a crucial moment.

CRASH

The first squadron of Royal Guards had just crashed in through the roof, a fairly small number, but they were armed with a lot of serum.

“There they are! First batch of humans ripe for salvation!” a Royal Guard pegasus with a deep green coat boasted. Another pony, a unicorn, magically tossed some liquid at the group of soldiers. They dodged it in time, only for it to drech Yevgeny.

And it was here that Yon-Soo saw a downright nightmarish event that would haunt him for a very long time. Sure, he had seen it on TV before, like Eun-Hee’s ponification at that ill-fated press conference in Berne, but not up close and in person like this.

Yevgeny’s whole body twitched and his bones popped as they rearranged themselves. Blue and white fur grew out of his skin, and his fingers… Dear God, his fingernails grotesquely fused into each other, turning into hooves as they blackened and spread across his hands, looking unpleasantly as if whatever the hooves were made of was eating his hands. He cast his neck back in a silent scream as his neck swelled with muscle and liquid from God-only knew where, as his face lengthened as if it was trying to escape from his skull. Yon-Soo swore that he’d seen far too much of old Yevgeny’s  jaw as his face slowly turned into a pony’s muzzle. It only took a few seconds for him to be fully transformed, but every soldier in the room felt as if it had taken hours.

The newfoal that took the man’s place stared bright eyed at the world as he cheerfully said, “I feel reborn! Thank you so much, friend!”

BLAM

And just like that, one shot to the head was all it took to cut this newfoal’s life short. Everyone stared right at Hyong-Jin, his hands shaking as he held his pistol.

“You monster!!” screamed another Royal Guard. “We saved him! We gave him a new life and freed him from his diseased body! A disease that, by the way, you apes can’t even cure!”

“Some cures are worse than the disease!” Markov yelled.

“SHUT UP ALL OF YOU!!” the North Korean screamed in rage. “YOU DIDN’T SAVE HIM AT ALL! YOU’RE NOT SAVING ANYONE HERE!!”

“Well we have more potion. You’ll see the light so-” 

Another gunshot rang in the room, and the guard slumped to the floor, a new hole between his eyes.

“Not today! Everyone, fight!” Porter yelled out as his rifle leveled to another and let loose another round.

And the battle commenced.

Yon-Soo immediately unlocked the safety on his assault rifle and pulled the trigger. The familiar old confidence and adrenaline rushed through him as he fired at the unicorn, who jumped and dodged out of the way, trying to outrun the bullets or deflect them with magic. This one was pretty tricky though, and unfortunately, it seemed that he had a dirty trick up his sleeve.

Immediately, Yon-Soo felt a tug at his gun. Realizing the unicorn was trying to take it away from him, he screamed, “Guys, be careful!”

“Way ahead of you!” yelled Markov, who shot at the same unicorn, only for another to put a shield up around his friend.

“Shit! They’re not going through!”

“Keep shooting! It’s bound to break under the pressure!” Porter yelled out as he tangled with an earth pony soldier.

Meanwhile, most of the old people had to take cover under tables and behind the sofas, shielding themselves from any stray potion bottles from touching them. Firebrand was fighting the pegasus leader, viciously pounding his hooves into the latter’s face.

Yon-Soo just kept his grip hard on his rifle. Markov and Sergei kept shooting at the shield, and from the likes of it, that thing seemed to be cracking under so many shots.

“Keep going!”

And with a loud crack, the shield shattered, and Yon-Soo decided to fire a few rounds of his own. Several of the bullets tore right through the unicorn’s body, and shattered several vials of the potion as well. But it was far from over.

Porter and Hyong-Jin were both trying to fight off the earth pony meanwhile. He was surprisingly fast despite his stocky build, and had the renowned strength of his race to top it off. He simply ignored several 5.56 rounds, and dodged most others, a surprisingly easy task given that the two of them were essentially panic-firing. He held a vial of potion in his mouth, and apparently decided to stop playing around when he threw the bottle right at Porter.

“Porter, look out!”

The serum spilled out all over Markov’s neck and arm as he pushed Porter out of the way. Things seemed to go in slow motion right there. The potion quickly took effect and Markov was screaming in pain as the conversion process took hold.

“No, please, don’t let it be like this!” he screamed in horror as his body rearranged itself. “NO! NO! OH… GOD NO!” he held up his hand, falling to the ground as his bones rearranged with audible cracks. “AAAAAAAAAH!” he screamed at a higher pitch than anyone thought possible as his fingers fused together, his nails blackening and turning into hooves.

Yon-Soo, without even thinking, reached for his pistol and aimed right at Markov’s head. He choked out, “I’m sorry,” before pulling the trigger.

It was the most disturbing thing he’d ever seen, looking at the corpse of someone half ponified, but the look of relief on Markov’s now dead eyes gave Yon-Soo some comfort.

Still, he had just shot a person.

Not a PER agent, or a newfoal, but one of his own fellow soldiers. Sure Markov was a jerk at times, but he still was a man that fought for mankind. And maybe they could have become more friendly with each other; Markov warming up to Firebrand, and all of them being friends and comrades...

He barely registered the rest of the fight going on, as Firebrand helped Porter and Hyong-Jin dole out a much needed beatdown on that earth pony, and a couple of the old people pitching in, one lady using a chair to distract one of the unicorns before another soldier shot him dead.

He barely noticed when one of the other pegasi on the squad tried to ponify an old man, he only said, “I was born a human, and I’ll die a human,” before taking the gun he had swiped off from Markov’s corpse and shooting himself right in the head.

Everything just didn’t seem to matter now.

“Yon-Soo! Yon-Soo, snap out of it!” Porter said at him.

“Porter, I…. I... I killed him. Not a PER member... or a newfoal, but one of my own fellow soldiers,” Yon-Soo whispered, shaking slightly. “I… I can’t…”

Porter grimly replied, “And Markov’s probably not going to be the only one you’ll have to do that for. We need to get out of here right now. More of them are coming, I’m sure of it.”

“What about the rest of them?” Firebrand asked, pointing a hoof at the elderly people trying to recover from the excitement.

“We’ll be fine,” said the main old lady, shaking the dust off her clothes.

“Are you still going to stay here?” Porter asked her.

“Yes. But we won’t go down without a fight. I just wish there was some kind of weapon we can use.”

Sergei spoke up, stammering, “There is one thing you can use. We have some C4 charges. Just wire them up, push a button, and blow them all up sky high.”

“But what about them?!” Hyong-Jin asked angrily.

“It would be suicidal, I know,” another old man admitted. “I’ve seen enough war and bloodshed over my life however. I would prefer to die with honor, as myself, than as a slave of a tyrant.”

“But -”

Porter cut in, “Let them do it. It’s clear they’ve already made their minds up a long time ago, Hyong-Jin. Nothing we try to say to them will change their minds. We can at least grant their wish. Sergei, you’re an explosives expert, right?” 

“Um, yes. Bombs, missiles, you name it and I can help,” the baby-faced soldier replied.

“Alright. How quickly can you set up the C4 charges?”

“Enough to level a good portion of this building? Well, with you guys pitching in, I’d say seven minutes.”

“Okay then. Let’s hurry up, and then get moving. More sentries will probably show up here, and I want us all out of here as soon as possible. Let’s move!”





They all sat in a circle, most of them praying to God in their last moments. For salvation, for their families to be safe, for those soldiers to survive and stop the Solar Tyrant, and for this war to end soon. It would only be a matter of time when a scouting party would try to investigate this location...

And not a moment too soon. A small group of Royal Guards came in through the hole in the roof and looked less than pleased at what they were seeing.

“What happened here?! How did this squadron fail to ponify a bunch of elderly people?” a unicorn asked angrily, his glare moving over to the small group before him.

“No matter,” an earth pony said. “They’re defenseless; I haven’t seen any of the humans’ military around here. It’s a good thing we have some spare potion with us.”

“As if,” one of the old ladies spat. “We may be old, but we’re not weak. We were born humans and we will die as humans.”

The old man next to her, on cue, took out the switch for the bombs and said, “Pray that the Heavenly Father will show you the mercy we won’t.” 

Before anyone could make another move, he pushed the button.





Off in the distance, the soldiers could see the explosion of fire and debris launching into the air. The C4 worked well, and thankfully, those elderly men and women took a few of those bastards down with them.

It still was sad though, but Yon-Soo knew now was not the time to grieve. “We have to get going,” he said. “There’s going to be more of them coming soon, and they’ll most likely try to target civilians still trying to get out of the city first. We’ll have to hold them off for as long as we can.”

Porter smiled, “You’re definitely getting the hang of this, Yon-Soo.”

“Hey, I only learned from the best,” Yon-Soo said, but there were tremors in his voice.

“Alright then! Let’s get moving! Let’s get our spare equipment and start sending a message out to the Tyrant - do not fuck with the human race!” Hyong-Jin declared, fired up.

“RIGHT!” everyone else stated in unison.





“The shit’s definitely hit the fan now,” Porter groaned.

Indeed it did. The whole area was in chaos, because as soon as they reached their armored truck, it seemed like things had started without them. Police officers were decked out in riot gear, carrying shields and small rifles. Thankfully, it looked like the last few busses were getting filled up.

“Well, we can’t be slow,” Firebrand pointed out. “We better help them!”

“Shit! They’re already here!” Sergei exclaimed when he noticed several Royal Guards charging at whatever soldiers and cops were in the area, attempting to get through them to get at the frantic civilians.

“Come on! We can’t be sitting ducks!” Hyong-Jin pointed out as he locked and loaded his rifle to go.

And so they went in. Firebrand (and a few other human sympathizing ponies) flew up, trying to take out the pegasus guards while Porter, Yon-Soo and Hyong-Jin rushed to help protect the last remaining civilians. Those pegasi were not going to be deterred however, as containers of potion began falling down like rain.

“Everyone, shield yourselves! Take cover!!” Porter screamed out. The police rushed to their aid, holding their riot shields up to protect them.

But it wasn’t perfect.

A good amount of people had been drenched in the liquid, and the conversion process kicked in immediately. Several people screamed in pain and fear, some of them converts, others horrified witnesses.

“Kill the newfoals!” a police officer barked out. “Don’t let them be added to the Queen’s numbers!”

Yon-Soo rammed the butt of his rifle into the face of one of the newfoals, smashing its nose in. That barely did much to stop at, as it kept yelling, “For the glory of Equestria!!”

He focused on trying to protect whatever unconverted civilians were left, and pushed the last ones into a bus. The driver was quick as he immediately shut the doors and drove off to escape. Spotting a unicorn about to prepare a magic spell to stop that bus, Yon-Soo, without a moment’s hesitation, drew out his pistol and began shooting at the enemy soldier. Thankfully, that unicorn was too focused on the bus to notice Yon-Soo, so he was unable to raise any shields or try to take Yon-Soo’s gun away. Three bullets was all it took to fell that unicorn, who screamed in a combination of surprise and despair as the bullets tore through him before he fell over dead.

Yon-Soo felt a rush of pure adrenaline going through him. He’d done plenty of crazy things when he became rich; indulging in a couple skydiving adventures, driving expensive sports cars and fast motorcycles, and even his training had all given him that euphoric sensation. But that all paled compared to this right now. He knew he was just as vulnerable as the others around him, but he could feel it course through him, guiding him and helping him.





“Take that!” Firebrand snarled as he punched his forehooves into his opponent’s stomach with enough force to send the guard reeling back, clutching his belly as he tried to steady himself midair. The crimson red pegasus had many bones to pick with these guys, and wasn’t about to be merciful.

He quickly looked down below, noticing the last bus was leaving, and he couldn’t help but be relieved. At least most of these innocent civilians managed to get out before getting ponified. Still, he wanted to go down to help his friends, especially Hyong-Jin, who was on the outer parts of the skirmish. He seemed to be chasing after what looked like some royal guards escorting some newfoals, but they were in a tense looking standstill. Worried, Firebrand flew down to help.

“Hyong-Jin, what are you doing?” Firebrand asked him, confused. As far as he was concerned, following that group would be tantamount to suicide.

“I’m trying to go after this group to kill the newfoals,” Hyong-Jin explained.

Suddenly, one of the earth pony Royal Guards said, “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Firebrand. I always knew you were an idiot, but a collaborator with the dirty apes? I never would have pegged you to be that stupid.”

“Wait, what?!” Hyong-Jin asked, “You know these assholes?”

The newfoals looked somewhat agitated now, clearly wanting to do something to the dissidents against their Queen. One asked, “How about we show those two the light?”

“We will,” another guard said. “But you all should go to the portal station. Rest up in the paradise of Equestria, and then you can help us save these people.”

“With pleasure,” a green unicorn newfoal chirped happily as it and the others quickly ran to the nearest conversion bureau portal station.

“No!” Hyong-Jin quickly aimed at them, but one of the guards, a unicorn, quickly used magic to take the gun away from him. Before Firebrand could respond, the earth pony tackled him to the ground, pinning him down in such a way that he couldn’t flap his wings to escape. The third guard, a pegasus, then similarly tackled Hyong-Jin as well, pinning him down.

“Let him go!” Firebrand growled. “He, and the humans have done nothing to deserve this!”

“Oh Firebrand,” the earth pony pinning him down tut-tutted, “don’t you see that we’re helping them? It’s the good work of harmony that we’re spreading to these misguided folks.”

“What you’re doing isn’t harmony! It’s just stomping them out!” Firebrand retorted before screaming in agony when the guard began to push down hard on one of his wings.

“Don’t worry, Fires. You’ll see the light soon too. I’m sure everypony back home misses you. We’ll even let you back into the Royal Guard, but only under… certain conditions,” the earth pony smirked. “But I do recommend that you don’t push your luck.”

“Enough talking,” said the pegasus. “Agent Moss, get out some potion for this human.”

“With pleasure,” the unicorn smirked, as he took out a bottle of potion from his saddle bag. As he approached Hyong-Jin, he said, “Open wide now.”

“NO!” Firebrand screamed in horror. ‘Not like this, please…’

Hyong-Jin screamed and struggled, yelling out curses and insults at the royal guards, who just laughed, knowing once he was converted, he would sing them praises and thanks for “uplifting” him.

‘Please, someone help us, it can’t end like this,’ Firebrand desperately thought. That unicorn was getting closer, and that potion would basically kill Hyong-Jin if it even touched him.

“You’re not converting anyone on our terms!” a familiar (and very welcome) male voice called out.

“Wha-” the unicorn asked, and then his body was riddled with bullets.

Before the guards could react, shots rang out. Sergei aimed right at the earth pony pinning down Firebrand, while Porter took out his pistol and began shooting at the vial of potion, destroying it. Hyong-Jin began struggling against the pegasus on top of him, and Yon-Soo took this opportunity to jump on the pegasus’ back, who immediately flew up, thrashing.

“Get your filthy paws off me, you dirty ape!” the pegasus growled angrily as he tried to shake Yon-Soo off. The Korean soldier was not about to let go of the pony’s neck though.

Yon-Soo quickly grabbed onto the pegasus’ left wing as tightly as he could. If he could do it just right…

A sickening noise that sounded like a mix between a pop and a crack came from his back, and the wing was now bent at an odd angle, and the pegasus screamed in anger and pain, trying to flap his good wing to keep himself afloat.

“You filthy beast! You popped my wing out!!”

The two of them were now spiraling out of control, the pegasus barely able to keep his balance with Yon-Soo’s added weight adding more stress on him. Yon-Soo wasn’t about to jump though; they were too high up, and the fall would easily kill him.

“Yon-Soo! Jump and I’ll catch you,” Firebrand yelled from down below as he flew up to them.

‘Here goes nothing,’ Yon-Soo thought to himself. He closed his eyes, let go, and jumped.

And true to his word, Firebrand did catch him. It hurt like Tartarus as he rammed into Yon-Soo, catching him in his two front hooves, but it had to be better than smashing against the ground. Although the fire red pegasus was strong, he still had a hard time carrying Yon-Soo as he tried not to fall too fast as they descended. Thankfully, they were able to land gently enough, whereas the pegasus guard ended up falling right into a nearby dumpster. The other two guards were dispatched thoroughly, but their group of newfoals were nowhere in sight.

“You two okay?” Sergei asked them, cautiously checking the dead guards’ bodies.

Yon-Soo held his head, trying to steady himself. He felt very dizzy as he groggily replied, “I’ve been better, but I’ll manage. How about all of you?”

Hyong-Jin got up, breathing heavily to calm himself after that ordeal he just went through. “I’ll be okay, but I hope I never have a close call like that again.”

Porter meanwhile was pulling the now badly injured pegasus guard out of the dumpster, trying not to wince at the stench of rotten garbage that covered him. Aside from his now dislocated left wing, the pegasus also sported some bruises from his fall, as well as a limp right hind leg. He was still conscious, but barely, and weakly struggled still.

“Why?” he coughed. “We came to you with the perfect gift, and you respond by killing us? You know that all you’re doing is proving the Queen right. You are nothing but violent savages, and you’ve proven right here exactly why you need ponification.”

Firebrand, before anyone could respond or stop him, suddenly flew out and tackled the guard, punching at his with his forehooves.

“SHUT UP!” the fire red pegasus screamed. “You call them bad, but you drove them to this! You aren’t helping them, you’re hurting them! You’re nothing but a hypocrite! If Celestia told you to eat her manure, would you?!”

Firebrand didn’t care that the guard was bleeding heavily, or that he was knocking some teeth out. He hated this pony, and wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. It felt good to let himself go...

“Firebrand!” Hyong-Jin barked out in shock, as he, Sergei and Yon-Soo all tried to pull their friend off the injured guard. “What are you doing?!”

Firebrand physically calmed down enough to not accidentally hurt anyone, but emotionally, he was fuming. “I am giving this gelding exactly what he deserves! He’s always been a self-righteous flank-hole, and it’s about time somepony gave him a taste of his own medicine!”

Porter then said, “You know him.”

It wasn’t a question.

“There’s something you’re not telling us, huh, Firebrand?” Porter questioned further.

Firebrand sighed, his wings and ears drooping as he looked down at the pavement in shame. He really didn’t want to admit he had kept some secrets from his new friends and moreover, he didn’t want them to think less of him now. But he knew that there was no way he could weasel his way out of this. He would have to be upfront and hope for the best.

Firebrand took a deep breath and firmly replied, “Look, I promise I’ll tell you everything as soon as we’re done here. But please, trust me when I say that I am completely on your side. I really am.”

Everyone was silent for a moment until Hyong-Jin said, “I trust you, Firebrand.”

Yon-Soo seconded that, and couldn’t help but smile at that. Hyong-Jin had come a long way from hating ponies indiscriminately to fully supporting Firebrand. He couldn’t help but wonder if a part of that was because Hyong-Jin himself had been on the receiving end of similar mistrust.

Sergei groaned and admitted, “I wish I could say no, but I just know deep in my gut that Firebrand is telling the truth. And my gut feeling is usually on the dot.”

Porter nodded, silently agreeing with them. In the time he had known Firebrand, he knew that the pegasus stallion was a dedicated and true friend. He had no reason to sell them out. Hell, that beatdown Firebrand gave to the Royal Guard was too raw, too vicious, to be faked.

“Alright Firebrand,” said Porter, “promise us you’ll be honest and tell us everything when we’re all done here and reached a safe zone, alright?”

“Absolutely will.”

Sergei pointed out, “Um, what about him over there? He’s still, miraculously I must say, alive. What do we do with that guard?”

That guard was certainly in pretty bad shape; aside from his other injuries, Firebrand had knocked a couple of his teeth out, his face covered in numerous contusions, and he was spitting up blood.

“I say we kill him. He’s a liability to us,”  Hyong-Jin said.

Yon-Soo shook his head and argued, “He’s technically our prisoner. Who knows, he might have useful information.”

“We’ll have to put down to a vote then,” Porter said. “Those in favor of just getting rid of him here and now, raise your hand.”

Predictably, Hyong-Jin and Firebrand voted yes on this one.

“Okay, those in favor of taking him prisoner, raise your hand.”

Yon-Soo, Sergei and Porter had to agree on this one. That guard was a prisoner, and he was one of Queen Celestia’s soldiers; he could have some information.

“That decides it then” said Yon-Soo. “Anyone got rope or something to keep him from escaping?”

“Eh, not sure we’d even need to. He’s really in no shape to even try,” remarked Sergei as he picked the broken and bleeding pegasus into his arms and slung him over his shoulder.

Both Firebrand and Hyong-Jin frowned in disappointment, whispering their sentiments to each other.

“I hope they know what they’re doing.”

“You and me both.”





The rest of the fight was going on strong, human soldiers trying to keep the Royal Guards and Newfoals they had acquired at bay. They managed to get back to the truck unscathed, and had to replenish supplies and place their prisoner in.

“Put him in the back of the truck, and then join us out there, got it?” Porter said to Yon-Soo as they decided to be safe by tying their prisoner up.

“Yeah, don’t worry. We even tied him up, just for good measure,” Yon-Soo replied as he gingerly placed their prisoner into the back of their armored truck. For good measure he grabbed some spare ammunition, some grenades and a couple extra pistols. It never hurt to be prepared.

“So now what do we do?” asked Firebrand.

Porter replied, “We have to hold the line. Try to drive the Royal Guards away, keep them from getting past city limits. We retreat as soon as the barrier is about to touch the city.”

“Makes sense,” Hyong-Jin nodded. He then clicked and loaded a fresh magazine of bullets into the new rifle he just took out and announced, “Time to lock and load.”





“Take cover!” yelled Yon-Soo as he ducked behind an abandoned car as newfoal pegasi were trying to drop potion bombs on them.

“See the light!” a unicorn newfoal exuberantly shouted as she charged at Sergei. “We’re going to save you all!”

“Like hell!” Sergei growled as he shot at its legs. The unicorn fell from the blows but it was still trying to walk at him, its face still twisted in that glassy eyed smile.

It was downright frightening. He had seen plenty of the news videos and other sloppily recorded civilian tapes on the Internet, of how the newfoals were literally like the zombies he saw in those movies and TV shows. But to see it in person was downright nightmare inducing.

It just wouldn’t stop, even as it left behind fragments of bone and great puddles of blood.

“Why won’t you join the herd?” another newfoal asked Sergei. Its voice seemed to be genuinely sad he and the others were denying the ponies’ “gift.” But what really unsettled him was that this newfoal was a child. A lot smaller than the usual pony. Sergei really did not like the idea of shooting a child.

BLAM

One shot to the head was all it took to kill it. Sergei saw that it was Hyong-Jin, and wasn’t shocked if he had to be honest with himself. He couldn’t let himself be held back. He got himself together and got back into the fight.

“Come on! Keep them back!” a police officer yelled. “We can’t let them get out of this area!”

Meanwhile, Yon-Soo and Porter had each other’s backs, the former shooting at the Royal Guard pegasi before they could dive bomb the men, while the latter shot at the newfoals. Unicorn newfoals weren’t proficient at magic, while the pegasus newfoals could barely hover. But the natural born ones weren’t so stupid.

“Watch out!” Firebrand yelled out from above. “The unicorns are gonna try to steal your weapons and fire them against you!”

“Gotcha!” Porter replied, as he and Yon-Soo ducked behind an abandoned car. It looked like a couple unicorns already did this, having taken some guns and firing them wildly at the soldiers. Anyone unlucky enough to not be able to get to cover in time got incapacitated. Yon-Soo caught several of those shot were now vulnerable to getting doused in potion, transforming into newfoals before they died from their gunshot wounds. By the time the last newfoal fell, they found themselves alone in a corpse filled street, the only survivors of the last wave.

“Shit! What do we do now?!” Sergei asked, trying to reload his gun.

Porter quickly looked around and said, “Follow me inside! Move!”

Yon-Soo closely followed Porter as Hyong-Jin and Sergei covered their backs while they ran towards an apartment complex. “What’s the plan?”

“We stay indoors; being outside is suicidal with all the open air and flying enemies. Inside, at least we have chokepoints and killzones to work with. It will also give us some cover from any potion bombs from the air or stray bullets. We will also have an advantage of getting the first shots off from off the ground,” Porter explained as they ran up a flight of stairs.

“Ah, I see then!” said Sergei. “Element of surprise! Plus the unicorns might not even be able to shield themselves from our shots!”

“Precisely, or at least until they figure out where we are at. Then we worry about getting out,” Porter confirmed before he and Yon-Soo kicked a door open, running into the empty apartment room. It was a mess to put it simply; there were discarded clothes, toys and books all over the floor, disorganized furniture, and even some unfinished food on the table. Porter took his place near one of the widows and motioned for Yon-Soo to take the next one. Hyong-Jin looked out the door while Sergei checked the other rooms.

“Weapons up, single or burst shot. Don't waste ammo needlessly, get your sights on the target and take them down. Firebrand will take care of the pegasi on top, since these newfoals can't fly for shit, so it will be a cakewalk for him. He’ll also be a diversion and lead them away from our position until we are made. Are you ready?” Porter asked.

“Ready as ever,” Yon-Soo replied, as he unlocked the safety on one of his guns and began shooting at the wandering newfoals as they entered the killing fields.

It helped out a lot, as several newfoals were shocked as they tried to figure out where the shots were coming from. As soon as they were about to look at their direction, Yon-Soo and Porter hid, taking cover from any pegasi that could try to look for them. Firebrand was fast though; he was able to provide enough distractions for any pegasi newfoals, plus he had many other advantages for them.

“Guys, I see a whole bunch of newfoals coming in from the east! They’re apparently being drawn to the noise! Damn, a whole bunch of Royal Guards are with them!” he yelled through the radio.

“I’ll be careful!” Aitmatov yelled. “Melnik and I are holding out, but just barely; the fuckers just won’t die!” There were several heavy booms from what was almost certainly a shotgun, too rapidly to be a pump-action, so probably a Saiga. “No no, scratch that. They die pretty well.” He fired again. “There’s just so! Goddamn! Many!” he roared, every word punctuated with a shotgun blast.

“You’ll never get us, you zombified pigfuckers!” yelled one other soldier, opening fire with his Kalashnikov.

Yon-Soo had to admit, that was a pretty apt comparison. The newfoals didn’t care one bit about their own survival, and just kept coming. But as dangerous as they were, the Royal Guards were even worse; they could actually fly, control their magic and knew their strength.

“Take down the unicorns; casters are top priority,” Porter instructed as he sighted a Royal Guard unicorn as he walked into the view, who was busy barking orders to the surrounding newfoals. A single squeeze of the trigger and the round flew true on target. However, instead of a bloody mess, a golden shield burst into view, causing the round to ricochet off and slam into a newfoal’s eye, killing it instantly. Porter stared in shock, actually lowering his rifle somewhat to stare. “Well fuck me sideways…”

Yon-Soo also noticed this and growled, “What the hell is going on?!”

“Oh no! Those are done already!?” Firebrand said with a mixture of dread and fear over the radio. “I’ve seen these before - Enchanted shields! Guys, be careful down there! The PHL have been receiving word of new armor being used by the Royal Guards! Unicorns don't have to cast spells for themselves anymore! I didn’t think they’d do it so quickly though!”

“Well they can’t be invincible, right?” Hyong-Jin asked through his own. He was getting restless, not wanting to stay at the door standing guard.

“I wouldn’t know! I’m not a unicorn, Hyong-Jin!”

“Wouldn’t hurt to try though,” Yon-Soo said as he took out a 7.62mm AK-107. It was larger and heavier in his grip, and he was slightly unaccustomed to the weight, but it would be a lot more effective than his current assault rifle. He had some experience with these kinds of guns, but Yon-Soo generally preferred his lighter 5.56 assault rifles and pistols.

But now wasn’t the time to wax poetic on weapons.

“Steady… and go.”

He fired three rounds at the shield. The recoil wasn’t too bad, thanks to to the rifle’s balanced recoil system. And it seemed to at least do something if the cracks appearing on the shield was anything to note.The unicorn looked around startled for a moment before glaring at the the apartment complex. He gave a single bark and the newfoals rushed the building in droves.

“Shit! It’s not working!” Sergei exclaimed as he tried to ward off the pegasi from trying to break into the windows.

Yon-Soo fired a few more shots, and soon, the shield cracked open, allowing for some bullets to go through and get not just the unicorn, but also the ponies near him. Yon-Soo had to swallow some vomit at how disgusting the aftermath was. Those rounds ripped right through the ponies’ bodies like they were balloons filled with red paint.

“The shields fell but I’m sure we’re not out of the woods. More are coming up,” Yon-Soo breathed as he hid from the windows.

“Yeah, I think we’ve got company,” Hyong-Jin confirmed in a shaky voice, when he pointed to the stairs in the complex.

Porter turned to Yon-Soo and asked, “Mind if you give me a few of the grenades you grabbed back there?”

“Not at all. Firebrand and I will handle things from this end,” he replied before getting back to his shooting.

Porter nodded and motioned for Hyong-Jin and Sergei to follow him down the hallway. Just to be safe, he took out one of the grenades, pulled out the pin and dropped it down the stairwell.

An explosion ripped through the stairwell, cries of surprise and death echoed out, along with a clatter of hooves.

Several ponies came out of hiding, most of them unicorns and one earth pony.The unicorns were obviously newfoals and the earth pony was clearly their leader, and they all looked eager.

“Take one and engage!” the earth pony yelled as he charged for Porter.

Hyong-Jin took on the unicorns, who immediately tried to steal Hyong-Jin’s gun from him. Thankfully, he had anticipated this, because he had the sense to load an empty magazine into the weapon, watching as the unicorn looked confused as to why nothing was coming out of the contraption. Hyong-Jin took the opportunity to take out his XK5. The pistol carried 45s instead of the normal 9s, and he unloaded his entire magazine into the newfoals. The first two shots slammed into the shield, which was far weaker than the elite guards’ shields. It shattered on the third shot. The unicorns barely had time to react when Hyong-Jin used the remaining bullets to kill off one and injure a second, and then he grabbed another fully loaded pistol and went after the other three as they just simply tried to grab their potions and convert him. Their fragile bodies were torn to pieces by the bullets, barely able to croak out before slumping to the ground lifeless.

Sergei was tangling with the rest of the unicorns in his own way, dodging spells and potion bottles, ducking behind the walls and other apartment rooms’ opened doors. These newfoals were probably changed a long while ago, since they seemed to possess some rudimentary magical knowledge. But they were still not really trained soldiers. Sergei remembered early close quarters combat training - gauge and use the environment to your advantage. He had several objects everywhere to use as distractions. Time to put the training to good use.

Porter meanwhile was having the toughest time. It was known that earth ponies, to compensate for their lack of magic and flying abilities, had greater physical strength in addition to their closeness towards nature. This stallion was no slouch, almost like a quarterback mixed with a raging bull and the fact that he was a Royal Guard only made things harder. The only advantage Porter had was being just faster enough to cut the tight corners of the hallway. He ran into one of the already open apartments to take a moment to breathe.

And while that pony had brawns, Porter had brains, and technology.

The pony ran into the room after Porter, and didn’t even realize what was right under his hooves.

The grenade Porter dropped on the ground as he ran exploded, and the Royal Guard couldn’t even scream when the grenade ended up not just shattering his limbs right off, but also breaking the floor under him, causing him to fall right into the apartment one floor below. Porter stepped out of hiding and looked at the enemy stallion beneath him, and felt a stir inside of him.

On the one hand, he felt a genuine animosity towards the ponies still loyal to Celestia’s cause, if only because of how despicably on-board they were with the whole “covert and assimilate all humans” in a way that would make the Kybermenschen look fiercely individualistic. But on the other hand, he felt a twinge of pity for them.

Enough to make him know that they were soldiers, just like him. Not enough however, to let him spare their lives. The stallion was clearly not in good shape any way, barely crawling and refusing to acknowledge he was severely injured; his forelegs were nothing but bloody, burnt stumps now, and the explosion of shrapnel had affected him quite adversely.

Best to shoot him and put him out of his misery. One from his simple pistol right in the head was all it took.

Hyong-Jin came in yelling Porter’s name out.

“You okay? I heard the explosion and got worried!”

Porter took one last look at the earth pony guard and replied, “Don’t worry about me. I can handle myself alright enough. What about you?”

Hyong-Jin proudly said, “Well, I managed to pull a fast one on that unicorn that went after me. Tried to take my gun, but it was empty. While he was distracted, I took out another loaded gun and shot him till he fell.”

“That’s good. What about Sergei?”

“Ah crap…”





This wasn’t going as planned. Sure, he managed to get rid of those unicorn newfoals by pushing a bookcase into his path, distracting them long enough for Sergei to blast him to bits with a shotgun, but now Sergei found himself being relentlessly pursued by another, recently arrived group of newfoals. They kept shouting, “Join the herd!” and “Welcome your salvation!” as they doggedly went after him.

He had dumped a whole magazine of bullets from a  5.56 assault rifle into some of them, but whatever newfoals he either missed or actually dodged were coming at him with unparalleled determination. Even the injured ones were ignoring their blood loss, broken bones and whatnot to come at him. And there were more from what he could see.

“Sorry, but that’s not in our plans!” Yon-Soo’s voice came out before the South Korean soldier rushed to Sergei’s aid, accompanied by Firebrand. Yon-Soo was still equipped with his heavy duty AK-107, and though he wasn’t this model’s biggest fan, he had to admit, this thing got the job done. The newfoals he focused on were literally torn to pieces as he shot at them.

Firebrand focused his own energies on the others, flying at a fast enough speed to slam each of his forehooves into two newfoals and driving them into the walls. He rammed into them with such force, he could feel their organs rupture under his hooves. A few good kicks for the rest, and Sergei was able to put a bullet from his pistol into their heads.

“You guys holding up alright over there?” Aitmatov asked over the radio.

“I thought you were ponified!” Yon-Soo replied, both feeling shocked and relieved no more soldiers were lost.

“Melnik and I, we don’t die so easily,” Aitmatov said. “I have to admit, it was a challenge-”

“SUBMIT YOURSELF TO CELESTIA!”

“Sure. Bullets first!” Aitmatov spat, firing some large-caliber weapon, either a shotgun or a pistol, it wasn’t entirely clear. There was a wet gurgle, and the area around him fell silent.  “Anyway, we’ve been holding out. Not exactly well, but...”

“Aw, piss,” some mare groaned.

“What? What is it?” Hyong-Jin asked.

“That,” Aitmatov sighed. “I don’t think I have enough bullets for that. Dammit, my grandfather was in the Great Patriotic War; this is something that even Stalin would pale at.”

“Continue…” the mare said.

“Long story short, he was given a cigarette, a papasha, a couple drums of ammo for the thing, and was told to wade into enemy lines while smoking, as if the bullets couldn’t touch him,” Aitmatov continued. “He was expendable, and told as much when he signed up. At least he had a fucking gun, though. That thing out there doesn’t even have the honor of being like my grandfather; it’s just a wall of meat meant to kill themselves to overwhelm us.”

“I can’t believe this! Celestia has got to be either insane or stupid, or both!” another soldier with Aitmatov hissed, this time a woman. “She claims that ponies are better, perfect and peaceful, yet she uses the newfoals like they’re just disposable cannon fodder?!”

“What a motherfucking hypocrite,” Aitmatov spat, and no one could find it in themselves to disagree.

Meanwhile, Firebrand checked out the window and paled instantly. Yon-Soo couldn’t really figure out how ponies managed to change the color of their faces if they were coated in fur, but upon looking out the window, he abruptly realized that he had far more pressing matters to attend to.

“Oh crap. Porter!”

“Yeah?”

“I think we have a problem,” Yon-Soo said as he pointed out the window as Porter walked next to him.

Hundreds of ponies, the majority of them newfoals, some not much older than children by the look of how small they were, rushed down the street towards their position.

“Fucking hell,” Porter muttered as he turned to run, grabbing Yon-Soo by his collar. “Run!”

“Where?! The only exit leads down to the street!” Yon-Soo pointed out, Sergei and Hyong-Jin rushing to meet them. Porter looked out the nearest window, seeing it facing another nearby.

“Follow me! Firebrand, scout ahead and look for a ride for us!” Porter yelled as he rushed towards the window and jumped through. The others watched as Porter jumped the small gap into the next building before they followed.

The horde of newfoals rushed the building, only to see the last human jump into the next building.

“They’re in the next building!” one yelled out as they swarmed after them. “After them! Let Celestia’s light grace them with Harmony!”

Porter rushed down the hall, seeing the open window lead to a balcony.  A newfoal pegasus landed before him, potion in mouth and ready for him, only to be punched aside by Firebrand. It screamed, clutching its jaw, before Hyong-Jin put a bullet in its skull.

“There’s so many of them!” Yon-Soo yelled as he jumped the gap, holding position as the others rushed by him as he fired in the general direction of several more newfoals that followed behind them. “Just where did they come from anyway?!”

“Well we can’t be sitting ducks!” Hyong-Jin replied as he threw a grenade at them, watching the red mist from the explosion, extremely satisfied.

Porter continued to lead the group building by building, quickly making their way down halls and offices to next building in line. For once, Porter was glad of to be in the old part of town as the buildings were practically sitting next one another.

“Damn it, at this rate, we might as well just shoot ourselves!” Sergei exclaimed as they jumped into the next building, following Porter as he lead them upstairs to the roof “I’d rather die than be ponified!”

“You won’t have to worry about that! I know the fastest way you guys can get back to your truck and get out of here!” Firebrand said over the radio.

“That’s great Firebrand, but how do we get there?!” Porter asked as he scrambled over to the next rooftop with the rest of the group.

“From where you are, go north, and then when you get to that blue building with the ice cream cone at the front, turn left from there. I’ll meet you guys and cover you as you get to the Tigr!”

“Got it! Come on, we need to get there fast!”

Yon-Soo quickly took out his 5.56 assault rifle and began shooting at the pegasi circling above him, all of them uncomfortably similar to birds of prey looking for their next meal. ’If we don’t get out of here now,’ he realized, ’I don’t know if we ever will.’

Porter grunted as he jumped off to the lower level, rolling across the roof before jumping back to his feet, his weapon up and barking once, the diving newfoal slammed into the roof next to him with a bullet to the skull. The others jumped down with him as he made his way to street, seeing a delivery truck near them. Porter swallowed and jumped off the roof, groaning as he slammed onto the truck before making his way off and onto the street. He raised his weapon and fired several more rounds at the diving new foals as they tried to get his men, Firebrand rushing through their group and laying waste to them for the ones he didn't get to.

They bolted down the street as if hell itself was on their tails, which it very well may have been, taking brief pauses only to fire off brief, spasming bursts at the general direction of the newfoal hordes heading for them.

They might have dropped magazines on the way to the ice cream store, fumbling in the process of reloading, or they might have just expended that much ammo, but either way, by the time they got within view of the truck, it felt like they were lighter by several pounds of ammunition.

All except Firebrand, who spent an unfortunate amount of their mad dash to the truck wishing that he had a gun he could actually fire.

“Thank God the Tigr has been untouched,” Porter sighed with relief. “Is our prisoner still in there?”

Yon-Soo gasped out, “Yeah, I see him. He’s awake, but there’s no way he’d be able to escape. Come on, let’s get inside.”

Yon-Soo took the driver’s seat, and thankfully, there was a spare key in one of the compartments. Porter rode shotgun, and immediately reloaded his rifles, while Hyong-Jin kept watch over their prisoner.

With 20 yards of open space to the Tigr, Sergei rushed over to the heaven sent weapon mounted on the roof, just behind the driver’s seat. He scrambled to get on top of the Tigr with the AGS-30 automatic grenade launcher beckoning to him. He remembered the thing from back when they’d been fighting Chechens; dear God, it had simply obliterated any position they turned it on. 

“Yon-Soo, get us out of here. The rest of us will cover!” Porter said as he rolled down the window and began aiming.

“Gotcha!” Yon-Soo replied. He quickly started the Tigr, and took off like a race car driver, hitting a couple newfoals in the front along the way.

Sergei quickly loaded a new drum of rounds onto the crew served weapon and pulled back the charging handle to load the first round. He heard the others scramble inside just in time to see the first group of ponies rushing out of nearby building.  He smirked as he aimed at the door and depressed the trigger.

Pomf pomf pomf pomf

The first four rounds sailed over head and through the open door. The newfoals didn’t even have time to get further than the doorway when it exploded, shredding them and the newfoals inside, blood and viscera spattering all over the ceiling and covering the windows. Sergei roared, aiming at the building’s wall, and emptied every round in the AGS-30’s massive drum magazine in its general direction. As the huge truck pulled away, the grenades exploded against the wall, reducing it to rubble over the course of seconds, leaving great craters in the ground and scorch marks on the pavement. Somewhere nearby, a newfoal was blown up, literally blown upwards, sent flying about five meters up, the stumps of her legs trailing blood. Newfoals attempting to leap out the windows were shredded by the explosive payloads.

A Royal Guard, a pegasus this time, jumped off the roof, flying at them, and smirked at Sergei as one 30mm grenade impacted against the shield of his enchanted armor.

Unfortunately, there were two things he should have known. First, the force of an explosion has to go somewhere, even if you don’t get burnt up, so he had the wind knocked out of him as he somersaulted backward through the air. Second, one grenade impacting against a force field doesn’t really matter when you have a lot more to fire, so there wasn’t much left of him when another 30mm grenade pulped his foreleg into a wet stump, and another destroyed everything below the neck.

“...Gross,” Sergei said approvingly. “Firebrand! There any more drums for this thing down below?!”

“Yeah!” Firebrand yelled. “There’s also this huge shotgun!”

“Pass me another drum, then! The mag for this thing is running dry!”

“They’ve really gotta get us ponies guns of our own to use sometime soon, though!” Firebrand yelled up, as he carried the drum up in his mouth, spitting slightly as soon as Sergei had picked it up, trying pointlessly to get the metallic taste out of his mouth. “I don’t really like being a mobile ammo pack!”

“You see that?” the captured royal guard pegasus yelled. “That’s all they see you as. That’s all you’ll be to them! You’re just a-”

“Stop insulting my friend,” Sergei heard Hyong-Jin snarl, “Or I’ll decide that you were trying to break into the truck and I use this shotgun.”

“Who would, Firebrand?” Sergei asked, yelling unnecessarily down into the Tigr. He would later find out that when Firebrand had said ‘huge shotgun,’ he had actually been talking about a 23mm Ks23 shotgun, so it was no surprise that the captured royal guard pony decided it was best to just shut up.

“They're closing in on us!” Hyong-Jin yelled as he kicked off a newfoal hanging off the back, unloading his weapon at the chasing group.

“Shut up shut up shut up!” Yon-Soo yelled as he took a tight corner, the entire vehicle tilting to the side before landing back on all four tires. The sound of cursing echoed over head and the pistol rounds going off as Sergei was forced to use his pistol to get rid of the newfoals on the roof.

“Must go faster, must go faster. Go, go, go, go!!” Hyong-Jin kept yelling as he shot at whatever newfoals were hanging around the back of the truck.

“I KNOW! Stop backseat driving!!” Yon-Soo yelled as he stepped on the gas, trying to make the truck go faster. Despite the newfoals’ persistence, they seemed to be getting some distance, and in the rear view mirrors, they were becoming smaller and farther away.

“Keep going! They may be far away now, but they’ll try to follow us!” Sergei noted from above.

“I know!” Yon-Soo replied, trying to focus on the road ahead.

“Oh, shit!” Sergei yelled. Vials full of potion were being dropped from the sky by the faster pegasus fliers. Thankfully, the truck’s speed meant that their shots missed them, but it was enough to get Sergei to bring out his rifle to shoot those pegasi with extreme prejudice while Firebrand had to fly up and catch the potion bottles and throw them away.

“We can’t keep letting them follow us!” Yon-Soo pointed out, trying not to cringe when the front of the vehicle hit a newfoal head on, reducing it to little more than a smear of blood. “If we’re driving to a safe zone, we can’t have them follow us there and put more people at risk of being ponified!”

“I have an idea,” said Porter. “It’s a bit risky, but we have to take those hordes out any way we can.”

Porter then reached for the radio, quickly thumbing the microphone and speaking into it. “This is Tigr Unit 8402-Romeo, we are going north-northeast out of the Kalininsky District, travelling at 60 kph on Route Charile Golf. We have fliers and runners on our tail and need immediate assistance from any listening units. I repeat, we need immediate assistance, we have High Priority VIP on board and a horde of newfoals following us.”

“We read you loud and clear, Unit 8402-Romeo.” Porter sighed in relief at the response, reaching back and slapping Hyong-Jin on the back with joy as the voice on the other end said, “We have you on screen now. Watch the skies, because we’re going to make it rain. ETA 15 seconds.”

“Copy that,” Porter confirmed as he set the microphone down. He then turned to everyone else and said, “Alright, guys, we have to keep them off our backs till air support arrives, which is damn quick. Keep driving as fast as you can, Yon-Soo.”

“Uh... Porter…” Yon-Soo called to him, his eyes no longer trained on the road but in the sky. Porter looked back to see several planes racing straight towards them.

Very familiar planes.

“Oh fuck. Floor it, Yon-Soo!!” Porter yelled as a squadron A-10 Thunderbolts lined up with them. “Whatever you do, don’t let up on the-”

Whatever Porter said next was lost in roar of the multiple GAU-8 autocannons and rocket pods. Sergei and Firebrand, who had landed on the roof seconds earlier, had the clearest view of the destruction. One moment they saw an entire horde of flying and stampeding newfoals, the next they saw them fly apart and get burnt to a crisp from either supersonic rounds or missiles, practically vaporized by the intense volume of fire. Firebrand’s jaw dropped like a ton of bricks at the utter destruction being dealt. The Thunderbolts unleashed everything they had as they made their pass, not only killing the newfoals, but destroying everything else as well.

Nearby houses, cars, and the road itself simply ceased to exist after the punishing amount of firepower rammed into the stampede of newfoals and Equestrians. It was clear that even if the barrier would be eating the city in a matter of hours, there wouldn’t be much to consume anyway.

Sergei and Firebrand ducked back into the Tigr, the former saying, “Yon-Soo, whatever you do, don’t-”

“I know, I know!” Yon-Soo yelled back before letting out a scream as he kept his foot planted on the gas pedal, wanting to get away from the carnage as fast as possible just as much as the rest of them.

“Unit 8402-Romeo, you are free and clear. No more tail chasers for you to worry about.”

“We will cover your exit. Regroup with your units,” another voice piped in, a heavy Russian accent filtering through. Porter looked up to several dozen Mi-24 Hinds making their way towards the city. Several of them started opening fire on the destroyed street, no doubt in Porter’s mind that they were taking care of survivors.

“Damn, we saw and heard that shit from here,” Khan Aitmatov said over the radio. “Guess there is no kill like overkill, huh?”

Porter said nothing as he looked in the side mirror. The city was lost, and hopefully, just about every human resident was evacuated and whoever remained was not in danger of being ponified now. Porter closed his eyes as the first missiles and artillery began to fall, explosions ripping the Kalininsky District apart.

Yon-Soo wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or not. It was one thing to be filming an action movie with explosions and stunts and all that. It was something else to actually be in the action for real. He took the radio and said, “This is Yon-Soo Park on the Tigr Unit 8402-Romeo. Where’s the closest safe zone to drive to?”

The officer on the other side replied, “Well, the main safe zone and new base of operations has been moved to Yekaterinberg, but since it’s still more than a day’s drive away from St. Petersburg, we’ll be setting things up temporarily in Nizhny Novogorod. You have a GPS, correct?”

“Yes, we do.”

“Enter in the address for the Nizhny Novogorod State Medical Academy. From there, you’ll be able to rest, have shelter, and regroup with the rest of the forces from St. Petersburg and Moscow.”

Porter entered in the address and groaned. “Fourteen hours?”

Sergei was similarly frustrated, but he had to cut in, “I know, it’s far, but at least it also means we’re far from the barrier too. And hopefully, far from any Equestrian forces.”

“He’s right,” Firebrand pointed out. “And I would love to go drop him off as soon as we can.”

Their prisoner was glaring at them. If looks could kill, they’d be ashes, but everyone in the truck had seen far worse things than him since the start of the war. They instead decided to ignore him, though Hyong-Jin still kept the shotgun as a threat.

Yon-Soo quickly looked at the GPS instructions and prepared himself for the long drive to Nizhny Novogorod.

They survived... but at what price?
> Recovery
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 6: Recovery



Pre-Readers/Editors


Redskin 122004


Doctor Fluffy


Aside from the initial commotion following their escape, the drive from the now vaporized St. Petersburg had largely been quiet. It had been a very stressful, very hectic, and all-around nerve racking day.

The road to Nizhny Novogorod seemed endless over the horizon, and darkness had fallen. Stars were now glittering in the sky, but the soldiers in the truck felt no desire to even look at them, or anything really-they were simply too drained. They had fought, killed, and barely escaped from that place with their lives.

They stopped every once in a while. If someone had to heed the call of nature, or switch out drivers, they would stop for no longer than five minutes, and then it was back on the road to get as far away from the barrier as possible. They passed through deserted smaller towns that looked to have been evacuated in a hurry, doors flapping against the walls of houses. Hyong-Jin swore that he could smell dinners left to rot in the mass exodus. Trash and suitcases littered the streets of these desolate places.

Sergei had taken over driving duties, but it still didn’t relieve Yon-Soo’s highway hypnosis. The road was so repetitive and it just didn’t seem like it would end. Finally Hyong-Jin asked the inevitable question, “So how much longer now anyway?”

Porter groaned; Hyong-Jin and Firebrand were the most impatient during this hours long ride, and though he couldn’t blame them, it did get annoying at times. Even worse was how they would sometimes continually ask if they were at Nizhny Novogorod yet, partially just to amuse themselves. He picked up the GPS and looked over it before replying, “At least another two more hours.”

A collective sigh rolled through the truck, like a wave cresting and receding from the shore.

“Arrggghh!!” Firebrand half-groaned, half-growled out of frustration. “This is getting so tiring! How do you people not lose your sanity over these long trips?!”

Yon-Soo shrugged and said, “Well, Equestria’s a lot smaller than Russia, plus you can fly, Firebrand. You don’t have to worry about that stuff right?”

“Not really,” he replied. “We actually had pretty basic trains in Equestria before the war against Sombra and the Crystal Empire. I think the Equestrian trains were along the level of those trains from your 1800s.”

Porter couldn’t help but notice. “So the Royal Guards use swords and shields and all that other kind of medieval level stuff, yet you have stuff like trains? Didn’t some ponies decry technology as evil or something?”

Their prisoner, Cyclone Twister, butted in, yelling, “Yes, it is an abomination that poisons the soul, corrupts the planet and - OWW!”

Hyong-Jin whacked him over the head with the butt of his shotgun. That, and a very well-placed death glare, shut the loudmouth up.

Firebrand stifled a chuckle at the sight, sighed and said, “I’m confused by it too, honestly. You have things we’ve had for decades, centuries even, but in your world they’re obsolete. And there’s tech we couldn’t even imagine back in Equestria… some ponies said your development made no sense, as if that was a bad thing, but I’m beginning to think it’s us that make no sense.”

Sergei chipped in, “So it’s just plain hypocrisy then?”

“I guess so.”

Yon-Soo felt nothing short of blistering scorn for this whole situation. It was that accident at CERN that opened the portal allowing the Equestrians to come, and judging from the friendships he and the others made with Firebrand and other good ponies out there, it was more than perfectly possible that humans and ponies could get along in genuine harmony. There was so much that could have been accomplished!

So why was Queen Celestia so insistent? Why wouldn’t she listen to reason?

Yon-Soo couldn’t help but wonder if there was something even bigger, even worse, at work here.





“Brace yourselves,” Porter said, “looks like we’ll have to go through a security checkpoint.”

“I don’t care,” Hyong-Jin admitted. “At least we don’t have to drive anymore for a while.”

Yon-Soo snorted and said, “Yeah. Did you and Firebrand really have to continuously ask “are we there yet” over and over again?”

Firebrand and Hyong-Jin both laughed; Yon-Soo had to groan as he made a mental note to himself to limit their viewings of The Simpsons.

The Tigr stopped at the checkpoint and some fully equipped security guards ran out, one yelling, “Halt! State your name and purpose!”

Porter saluted and replied, “I’m Porter Stanley. We’re Tigr Unit 8402-Romeo. We evacuated from St. Petersburg and were instructed to come to Nizhny Novogorod. We also have a prisoner - a Royal Guard pegasus.”

The guard eyed Porter before giving the go-ahead to someone else to check the back of the vehicle. The other guard opened the back doors and Yon-Soo moved out of the way, showing the pegasus guard who was now struggling and screaming at them to release him.

“Yeah, that definitely is a prisoner,” the guard nodded, evaluating everyone else before giving a thumbs up to the main guy. “The bruises look authentic, too.”

“Alright, you are all cleared to enter,” said the security officer. “Park your vehicle at the designated garage, and take your prisoner to intelligence. If you wish to, go to the main hospital, relax, have a meal, and follow protocol from there.”

“Thank you,” Porter said to him as he drove the truck past the checkpoint and into the city.

Nizhny Novogorod had a similar vibe to it as St. Petersburg did. It was to be expected as the city was the fifth largest city in Russia. The buildings were beautifully painted and had a historically majestic feel to them, lush green trees lined the roadsides, and Yon-Soo could see the large beautiful blue river running off in the distance. But it was hardly the time to sightsee right now.

Like many other places they had been in, soldiers were everywhere, patrolling the area, giving a tense vibe to the general atmosphere. They were cooperating with local law enforcement to help civilians that had come in from St. Petersburg and probably Moscow as well. There were lines of people signing up to join military resistance movements, or just trying to receive food rations or find out where to stay for the night. Some were armed, carrying guns from all over the history of Russia - surplus of the second world war, Kalashnikovs that ran the full spectrum from the wood furniture and beaten metal of 1947 to the polymer of 2018, ancient hunting rifles, Saiga shotguns, and even what looked like pneumatic rifles, small single-action revolvers, and what looked for all the world like a cheap copy of an American .44 Magnum. It was like a small arms museum had come out to fight. And everything looked so backed up and crowded, traffic everywhere and people (mostly refugees) were adrift and confused.

“Where do we go first?” asked Hyong-Jin.

Porter replied, “If I remember correctly, we should go to the Nizhny Novogorod State Medical Academy. Apparently, it’s been partially converted to a center for military operations.”

“And we can finally drop this annoying load off there too, right?” Firebrand asked, pointing to Cyclone Twister, whose mouth had been stuffed with some cloth Hyong-Jin found.

“Yes,” the American soldier said in a slightly exasperated tone, “he won’t be our concern for much longer.”

“Thank God,” Hyong-Jin said, giving a sigh of relief.

A couple minutes passed, and the traffic was still badly congested. Yon-Soo could notice that Porter was looking a bit frustrated, especially when several other drivers were honking their vehicle’s horns, and law enforcement was having its hands full trying to direct everything. Suddenly a man in a green military uniform ran up to the Tigr, prompting Yon-Soo to roll the window down.

“Hey, are you all from the St. Petersburg evacuation units?” the cadet asked them.

“Yes. What’s going on?”

“Nothing really, but since you’re military, there is a special route you guys can take if you’re going to the State Medical Academy,” he told them.

“We’ll take it,” Yon-Soo said immediately, looking for any excuse to get out of this truck. “Which way do we go?”

The cadet pointed them down a street, barely wider than an alleyway, which several annoyed-looking policeman were waving other vehicles away from. “Go that way, make a right turn, and follow the other vehicles.”

“Got it!” Porter said to him before he turned the wheel and began going towards the special route. Yon-Soo couldn’t help but notice in the rear view mirrors meanwhile that some impatient civilians started getting into scuffles with law enforcement over how slow the traffic was going.

The military route was much quicker, though it still was clogged in its own way. There were several Tigrs, along with other kinds of military vehicles. Several soldiers and the ponies on their side were walking along as well, many looking just downtrodden, even as they pushed carts and lifted boxes of ammo, supplies, weapons and whatever else was packed in those crates.

They soon reached the front of the Nizhny Novogorod State Medical Academy, which was surrounded with tents that seemed to be hastily put together. It looked like most of them were being used as makeshift hospital rooms for soldiers and even civilians alike. Others were full of intelligence officers discussing various matters regarding the barrier, fighting royal guards and newfoals, and international affairs, and there was even one with what looked like senior officers looking over maps and talking about strategies.

It was what now was a very familiar scene to Yon-Soo; everyone busy, on edge, and burning their candles from both ends. People were running around, double and triple-checking things, trying to prioritize between their tasks and pushing themselves beyond their limits. A security officer walked up to the driver’s seat, prompting Porter to roll the window.

“Good evening. From what I see, you’re Tigr Unit 8402-Romeo. Are you Lt. Stanley?” he asked.

“Yes. Is there something important going on that requires our attention?”

“Just that I was sent to look for you. You said over the radio that you had a prisoner on board this vehicle, correct?”

“Yes, we do,” Yon-Soo answered. “Do you know exactly who we should bring him to?”

“Yes,” the soldier replied. “You can exit your vehicle now, since the mechanics will have to look over every vehicle that came out from St. Petersburg and Moscow anyway for maintenance checks.”

“Understood,” Porter and Yon-Soo answered in unison, and the group got to leaving the Tigr. Sergei swung Cyclone Twister over one of his shoulders as Firebrand and Hyong-Jin gathered their own belongings. A soldier in a rather greasy maintenance suit ran up and took the steering wheel, driving the truck off to another section of this makeshift base.

“Follow me,” the officer said to them, his tone somewhat urgent now.

Yon-Soo just felt worn out if he had to be honest with himself. He trudged alongside his friends as they went into the Medical Academy building. Tonight, it had been converted into a full hospital. Human and pony soldiers and doctors were everywhere, tending to people that had been injured in anyway during the evacuations, and other sick people. It was a whole different kind of chaos really.

This wasn’t the first time Yon-Soo had asked himself if he really knew what he was getting himself into, but right now, he felt the full weight of what had just happened over the past 20 hours completely sink in.

He was in a war.

He felt sick, horrified and thankful all at once. His head was light and dizzy…

“Uh, Yon-Soo, are you okay?” Porter asked.

Yon-Soo darted for a nearby trashbin and promptly vomited. As much as his throat burned, he felt a feeling of release from vomiting. He had felt head crushing stress and a flurry of contradictory emotions overwhelm him, and this surprisingly helped. He felt strangely woozy inside.

“Yon-Soo!” Porter nearly yelled in concern and fear as he rushed by his friend’s side. Yon-Soo hacked and coughed, spitting up foul bile as he tried to steady himself. A nurse was by Yon-Soo’s side helping him up as she took him to a nearby chair to run quick checks on him. 

“Holy shit, Yon-Soo, are you alright?” Porter asked him shakily. He had seen this kind of thing before in rookie soldiers and he’d be lying to himself if he hadn’t expected it. Hyong-Jin and Yon-Soo had handled themselves rather well, but it had to come at some point.

After gasping for air, Yon-Soo looked at Porter and replied, “To be honest, I don’t know.”

Porter looked to the rest of the group and said to them, “Drop the prisoner off to intelligence. I’ll stay with Yon-Soo.”

Sergei gave Porter a thumbs up and said, “Sure thing. We’ll see you later.”

As the rest of the. walked off to deliver Cyclone Twister to intel, Firebrand looked at Hyong-Jin with concern.

“What?” the North Korean soldier asked. “You think I’m going to throw up too?”

“No! I don’t think that,” Firebrand said defensively. “But I can understand why Yon-Soo would break down like that. How are you still standing?”

Hyong-Jin had to admit, Firebrand brought up a good point. Why?

“I’m not really sure,” he admitted.

Firebrand sighed, and just followed along, blocking out the sounds and sights of soldiers and civilians frantically scrambling all over the hospital to do something. He sure hoped this war would be over soon, for everyone’s sake…





“Don’t be disappointed with yourself Yon-Soo,” Porter reassured him. “This was your first major fight, and you did have to do a lot things to survive the day.”

“I know,” the former actor/model/singer said, sighing. “Still…”

Yon-Soo took another drink from the water bottle they gave him as he chewed on some bread to settle his stomach down. They were quiet for a moment before Yon-Soo asked, “Does it ever get easier, Porter?”

“Not exactly. Easy just means you can walk through and just shoot, and ignore the bullets the few times you get hit, like some cheesy old action movie. You do get sharper though.”

Yon-Soo let that sink in for a second. He understood that fighting was the only option at this point, and if anything, killing the newfoals was, in a way, doing them a favor. Even if they were former humans.

Still, staying alive through that whole battle took everything out of him. It was through a combination of raw skill, luck and teamwork that they were able to even survive.

So why did it feel like they hadn’t accomplished much?

Porter then got up and said, “Well, I don’t know what else we can do. We’ve all gone through a lot, and we should rest and regain our strength while we can. I’m going to see if I can be able to get in touch with my family, let them know I’m alive and all that.”

“Yeah, sounds good to me. I should probably do that too,” Yon-Soo agreed as he gingerly got up.





“Oh thank God you’re safe now, Porter!” a female voice gasped over the phone. “We heard the news about what happened in North Korea, and from what we heard, it’s turned into a madhouse! We’ve been worried sick. It kept us all up at night, thinking you might be dead or turned into a newfoal, and by God I wasn’t sure which was worse!”

“I was real worried about you too, mom,” he replied, giving a sigh of relief. Just talking to his family, it felt like the world had become a little bit safer; if they weren’t newfoals, then perhaps things weren’t quite as bad as they seemed. “And how are you three doing back home?”

A gruff male voice replied, “Well, we’re all holding up well. We’ve been helping in all kinds of small jobs to aid the war effort. Guarding and patrolling have never gotten any easier.”

Porter smiled, slightly glad that his parents and little brother were all safe and sound (or as safe as they could be in this war). “That is good to hear. But I’m mostly calling to ask you something.”

“What is it, son?” his father asked.

“Well, I’ve been keeping up with the news somewhat, and I did meet Ambassador Heartstrings a while ago, and from what I’ve seen, the Human Liberation Front isn’t looking at the problem from the right direction. It’s all ‘four legs bad, two legs good’ with them, and from what the Ambassador said, that doesn’t seem right. I’ve gotten worried, so I have to wonder if you’re still with them.”

Porter’s mother replied, “Well it’s good that you’ve been keeping up on the news. And you don’t have to worry too much about us; we already left a long time ago.”

Porter sighed with relief, and asked, “What happened? Just curious.”

“You’ve heard the reports of some HLF members kidnapping ponies and any ‘sympathizers’, torturing and brutally killing them and releasing the videos to the news, I take it?”

Porter grimly answered, “Yes. The worst part is that they always act like we should be thanking them, the entitled sons of bitches,” he growled, before letting his mind wander momentarily. He did see that the HLF had a website of its own, and there were also reports that several similar groups began popping up all over the rest of the world. Since they followed the same philosophy, Porter knew in his gut there would probably be similar crimes going on here in Russia, and probably the rest of Asia. ‘Or,’ a deeply pessimistic part of him suggested, ‘They’ll be wherever humans are displaced to.’

He didn’t like the sound of that; it meant that every assignment he had in the future, every possible means of cooperation with escaped ponies that could possibly find a way to get past the barrier would become infinitely more difficult. And there was also the feeling he had that they would probably get an assignment in the future to deal with these groups.

‘God,’ he thought, ‘what a waste that’ll be…’





“Aitmatov, Melnik! You guys are alright!” Sergei said excitedly.

“It will take way more than a bunch of newfoal pansies to put us down,” the older soldier said. “I’ve survived worse things than those goddamned bullet-sponges in my day.”

“Damn right!” Melnik agreed. “You look out there and see a bunch of evil brain-raped newfoals, I see a target-rich environment.”

“Like shooting fish in a barrel, it was,” Aitmatov said, almost wistful, a smile on his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever gone through a magazine in so little time. Hell, aim for the unicorns while they’re casting spells, and they practically explode! I just remember thinking there, ‘Oh my God! They explode! My life has new meaning now...’”

“Oh, you two are incorrigible,” a female voice said. “Aren’t you supposed to be older than me?”

Sergei looked down and saw the voice’s source. A lean but toned pegasus mare with an icy blue coat, silver eyes and a black mane and tail. Her mane was pulled back into a bun, and her cutie mark looked like snowflakes blowing in the wind.

Yon-Soo said, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve caught your name.”

She held her hoof out and placed it in Yon-Soo’s hand in an approximation of a handshake, answering, “My name’s Blizzard Flurry. Nice to meet you, Yon-Soo! I have to say, I really liked your work in ‘The Baker’s Dilemma.’ You were the funniest I’ve seen.”

Yon-Soo blushed, feeling slightly flustered at the fact that someone pointed out his pre-war profession. It hardly seemed appropriate; he was just one of many people who signed up to stop the Equestrian threat. And if he had to be honest, it was a bit embarrassing too.

“Any idea what to do now?” Hyong-Jin asked, rubbing his sore muscles. It was hard to blame him for being both confused and tired. They had evacuated an entire city, escaped from the Royal Guards, newfoals and the Barrier with their lives intact, drove for nearly 15 hours straight through the countryside and now just dropped their prisoner off to intelligence. It seemed like Cyclone Twister would not cooperate easily, but he wasn’t their problem anymore.

“I’d say some good old-fashioned R and R,” Porter said when he walked towards them. “We definitely deserve some, don’t we?”

Everyone nodded solemnly. It had been a very stressful and long day, and right now, there was something the men could all agree would help.





“Well, now what do we do?” Firebrand asked. The bar they’d found, a hole in the wall that likely didn’t see this much traffic in a year, had been kind enough to serve beers in a very large bowl to Firebrand, Blizzard and any other pony that visited. A cup likely wouldn’t have helped them at all, given that they couldn’t lift it in their mouths or with their wings.

Some of the patrons were soldiers, just like them, who needed to unwind. Others were civilians, just needing something normal after the ordeal they all had gone through. And there were citizens of Nizhny Novgorod who had been regulars of this bar, enjoying what little time they had left here before they would have to outrun the barrier themselves.

It went without saying that everyone in the bar just needed a freaking drink. They’d all seen yet another city steeped in history and home to millions wiped off the earth for the umpteenth time, destroyed in a manner so contemptuously and anticlimactically simple that there were almost no words that could describe it. It was so very anticlimactic and inevitable that the news barely paid mention to it. Years ago, in Yon-Soo’s childhood, the destruction of just an important building would leave the world reeling, but they were now all numbed to such tragedy.

More than a few people in this bar had lived in St. Petersburg or Moscow, and they could pack only the bare necessities and a few heirlooms in the hasty evacuations. They were all essentially homeless. Some were making drunken phone calls to family and friends from outside the country, asking for sanctuary. Others simply cried, not knowing what do now that they were left adrift. Friendships based on necessity were forged on the spur of the moment, with men and women, mares and stallions from countries consumed by the barrier shaking hooves or hands, pledging to share payment for their new residences. Assuming they could find them.

They all knew the future was uncertain. They all knew that they had little but suffering to look forward to. But in this bar, like many others across the globe, they could forget that if only for a couple hours.

There were several TVs showing the news. One had mentions of heroic resistance in Moscow. Choppy footage shot from the back of a dusty pickup truck in the Middle East, as resistance fighters tried desperately to outrun the barrier, firing off their DsHK at the few ponies that came close, which would became famous in journalism in the years to come for truly capturing the monolithic horror of the Barrier.

Another TV showed cheap cell-phone video of a wild-bearded Menschabwehrfraktion man in relatively modern armor cobbled together from several sources, clearing an entire street of charging newfoals with a last desperate spray of an MG2019 light machine gun as others in the Menschabwehrfraktion waved off people in some faraway desert, pushing them towards a plane.

Yet another TV showed interviews with refugees whose faces were wet from hours of crying, or left so shocked that they were almost dead to the world, responding to questions lazily, half-babbling as if they could not truly comprehend what had happened. A mention of a ragged fleet of ancient Equestrian ships, soon nicknamed the “Mercy Ships,” landing on the east coast of South America, lashed together, battered by fire-spells and storms from pegasi, full of starving refugees. Footage from a helicopter taken next to the door gun had shown them as a charnelhouse, with ancient Equestrian taboos against water burial literally overthrown as one dead unicorn dropped into the ocean.

And then, finally, commercials. But that didn’t do much to ease anyone’s anxiety; if anything, it felt like complete mood whiplash.

“Well, I do remember you promised us that you’d tell us a bit about yourself,” Yon-Soo reminded him, taking another sip from his beer. “What’s the history between you and that Guard anyway?”

Firebrand sighed and began, “Well, you guys know that I was in the Royal Guard before all of this happened, right?”

“Yeah, I remember you saying something to Lyra about getting kicked out. What happened?” Porter asked.

“It was about a year before the war against the Crystal Empire began. I signed up to join the Royal Guard; just felt natural to me. And I met Cyclone Twister there, and we became pretty good friends. He was competitive and driven, and he and I just got along well with each other. Many of the guys in our unit joked that he and I were like brothers separated at birth.”

Aitmatov then remarked, “But then some kind of falling out occurred?”

“Exactly,” the pegasus said. “I’ll admit, it was stupid of me to have agreed with it in the first place… but basically, Cyclone and I were at a bar near the training base, with our other unit members, just drinking and having a good time. We were acting stupid and dared each other to do something crazy. Cyclone dared me to show off this offensive trick I developed. And I was drunk and fearlessly stupid enough to accept it.”

“Whoa, what kind of trick was it?” Hyong-Jin asked, clearly very interested.

Firebrand took another sip from his beer and replied, “It was this fire tornado. It’s hard to explain, but basically, when I fly fast enough, I’ll heat the air around me enough to trail fire behind me. I was trying to think of different fighting moves and tricks to do with this. I came up with the fire tornado with Cyclone’s help. I did just that. But to reiterate, I was drunk and stupid that night.”

“And then things went wrong,” Porter dryly commented, drinking another shot of vodka. He could guess how this ended.

Hyong-Jin however was transfixed. “That sounds so cool! I’d love to see you do one of those against some newfoals!”

Firebrand actually shot Hyong-Jin a hard, unflinching glare. He strictly said, “Hyong-Jin, I know it sounds cool, but it’s also incredibly risky, and I’m about to tell you why. I was able to fly fast and smoothly enough to make a decently sized tornado. Cyclone was egging me on and he told me to go by the officers’ quarters, just to show off and give them a good scare. I agreed to it, and tried to move the tornado by their quarters. I lost control very quickly, and the tornado actually threw me right out and it went out on its own. The tornado went haywire and fire rained down on everything, destroying a huge chunk of the officers’ quarters and parts of the base, while injuring a few others.”

The look of guilt on Firebrand’s face was clear as he recounted this. But Yon-Soo could also see some anger boiling underneath too, as Firebrand continued on.

“I woke up the next morning with a giant hangover and surrounded by a bunch of angry guards. The higher ranking officers told me right there that I was getting discharged from the guard. And Cyclone was nowhere to be seen. I tried to ask him about it, but he just pretended like nothing happened; never once did he try to stick up for me. He pinned the whole thing on me, and every pony believed him,” Firebrand growled angrily.

Blizzard breathed, “Wow, that sure stinks. What happened after that?”

Firebrand took another sip of his beer before answering, “I confronted Cyclone and nearly got into a fight with him, which only made things worse between me and the other guards. I left the camp and went back home, and my parents were disappointed but understanding enough to let me back. Since then I was doing several odd jobs as a bodyguard for other ponies.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment, letting Firebrand’s story sink in. Yon-Soo was the first to speak.

“So why were you so secretive about this?”

Firebrand shrugged sadly and said, “I just look back on that and feel so embarrassed. But at the same time, especially right now, I kinda realize how lucky I am in retrospect. If I were still in the Guard today, I’d be like the rest of them, forcibly ponifying people.”

“Yes, you would be,” Porter nodded. “But you shouldn’t feel embarrassed about it. We don’t think any less of you for what happened or for getting kicked out. My mom always liked to say ‘if one door closes, there’s another door open with new opportunities.’”

“Yeah, you never would have met us!” Hyong-Jin added happily, holding his beer up for a cheer. “And you are not just a good soldier, but an awesome person in general! We are all glad to have you here, Firebrand.”

“Indeed we are,” Yon-Soo added, raising his glass cheerfully.

As the guys cheerfully drank in honor of Firebrand, someone in the bar yelled, “Holy shit! Everyone, look at the news! Something insane just happened in America!”

The bar employees changed the channel on a couple TVs, and each one had the same report. ‘Breaking News’ they both said, and the news footage showed a giant mushroom cloud over a large field.

“Is that a nuclear bomb…?” Blizzard asked, her voice trembling with utter fear and all color drained from her face.

“Yes… holy shit…” Aitmatov answered her, his own voice shaking with shock. He trembled, moving towards Blizzard ever so slightly, his hand coming to rest on her fur, near her mane. “I’d hoped to God I’d never see one deployed.”

The anchor, a young attractive blond woman, swallowed a lump in her throat as she said, “Today, US President Jack Davis has... I'm sorry... I… He called for... for a nuclear strike of the country's capital. This is... The order was called after local law enforcement and military personnel fought for hours against the PER and a horde of newfoals. Despite the involvement of the PHL and the HLF, the newfoals overwhelmed their forces. A spokesperson for President Davis released a statement saying that the President came to his decision... Hold on, the President of the United States is broadcasting live from a secure location."

The feed cut to the Presidential Logo and podium, with President Davis walking from offscreen to stand at the podium, somber and clearly looking worse for the wear. He took a deep breath before speaking.

“My fellow Americans... Actually, I’d like to correct that... My fellow humans, just an hour ago, I was forced to make a call that will forever haunt me. After watching young women and men fighting tooth and nail in the defense of their capital…” President Davis slumped over, he held a hand to his face, grief and devastation clear on his features. “I watched my people fight for their very lives. I watched young men and women barely old enough to drive kill one another, renouncing their humanity, telling their families, their brothers that they had no souls, that humanity was a sickness, a curse....” he stopped, and continued, starting immediately on a new sentence. “All because of a single drop of liquid and they turned on each other... If only to stop the suffering of being enslaved and mentally warped beyond anything we have ever seen. I watched as my entire cabinet was nearly killed. People that I grew to care for and respected threw their very lives away to protect me. I... called for a nuclear strike on my own soil so as to keep the nation’s capital from falling to the Solar Tyrant’s hooves... Oh God… The families still inside...” President Davis fell, clutching to the podium as if it was a lifeline. He was clearly failing to be stoic, pretending that his face was not getting wet with tears.

“Mr. President!” a male voice called out.  The feed was abruptly cut off, leaving a stunned reporter on screen again. She scrambled to recover.

“Uh… I-in similar news-”

As the anchor recounted some news pertaining to the status of the British Royal family, the whole bar went up into nervous chatter. It was one thing to be seeing cities get disintegrated by the barrier, but to see this go down was a whole different worry in itself. First all of North Korea, and now the American capital. It could happen to them too it felt like.

Porter and Hyong-Jin both looked completely shocked at this news. Porter just looked like he had been slapped in the face, while Hyong-Jin just looked horrified.

“Nukes? Again?!” the North Korean soldier asked. “We’re pretty much destroying ourselves, if you ask me!”

Yon-Soo cut in and said, “Hey, you heard what the President said. He certainly didn’t like making that decision. And hey, I’m pretty sure no one really wanted to nuke North Korea either; but in a time of war, there is no such thing as an easy decision.”

“But what about the right decision?” Hyong-Jin argued back. “You heard the President too. He admitted that there were still families, and children, in the city when the bomb hit. He might feel guilty, but that’s not an excuse!”

“I’m not excusing him, Hyong-Jin; I’m simply pointing out the fact that we are in a war, and everyone’s going to have to make tough choices. Easy, or right, we have to do what we got to do to win this.”

Porter cut in between them, hoping he could stop this from becoming a full blown argument. “Okay, look, both of you are right to an extent. President Davis had to make a very tough call, and there were undoubtedly a lot of casualties. But we are in a war right now, and if we lose, we will literally lose everything - our lives, history, culture, accomplishments, everything that makes us human; it will be as if we never even ever existed. All of us will have to cross a line at some point if we have any hope of winning this thing. I’ll be surprised at the end of all this what lines people wouldn’t cross.”

Both of them quieted down, as Porter’s argument was nothing if not very logical and true. This was a war, and not just that, but a war for humanity’s very survival. They would have to give everything they had to survive, or lose it all.

Yon-Soo sighed and rank the rest of his beer before saying, “Well then, I might as well savor the moment, and what little sanity I’ve got left at this point. Another beer please!”





The next morning, Yon-Soo woke up in the motel room he and his fellow soldiers had been granted, with a mild hangover, and a craving for some of his grandmother’s cooking. She sure did make some of the best doenjang jjigae, spicy squid and pajeon. He groaned, knowing the headache and nausea were his fault, and decent Korean food was about as rare in Russia as a penguin in a desert. 

He wondered when the next time he’d get decent Korean food would be. It was a terrible thought.

Yon-Soo sighed and got up out of his cot, rubbing his forehead. He headed for the bathroom, washing his face to clear his vision. He examined himself in the mirror, and wasn’t surprised to see a couple scars on his face and torso. They didn’t look bad, but they definitely would not be favored by his now former agencies.

He had to be honest with himself, it was odd to be looking back his old life. He wasn’t selfish (or at least didn’t think of himself as such), but he had been superficial and a little haughty. He would have never imagined himself being in this situation. Fighting against brightly colored little horsies trying to assimilate humanity into their own. Or even just shooting a gun, jumping from rooftops, aiding in a city-wide evacuation, and all this other stuff that had been happening.

He sighed, knowing there was no way to back out of this. There would be no honor in that, and there would be no way he could ever live with himself if he did. He walked into the shower stall, and let the hot water soothe his aching muscles and raging hangover headache. He savored this nice moment of recovery, knowing it would probably be a long time before he could ever get a nice hot shower like this. He quickly washed himself up with the shampoo and soap the motel provided for them and got out, drying himself up and putting on a fresh set of clothes.

‘Much better,’ he thought to himself. He looked at himself in the mirror once more, wiping the steam that accumulated there. The scars were still visible, but still nowhere near as bad as they could have been. It was as if he could see a very different man in that mirror now.

He had a feeling he’d get worse scars as this war went on. A knock on the door shook him out of his reflections.

“Hey, Yon-Soo, are you in there still? Some of us really have to use the bathroom!” Firebrand said from the other side.

Yon-Soo opened the door, revealing Firebrand and Hyong-Jin, the latter really looking like he needed to heed the call of nature.

“You really can’t hold your liquor, huh, Hyong-Jin?” Yon-Soo asked him.

“Oh shut up!” Hyong-Jin said angrily, pushing past Yon-Soo into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. Yon-Soo could vaguely hear water splashing into the toilet and a very relieved sigh of bliss from the other side of the door.

“You weren’t much better at holding your liquor either, Yon-Soo,” Porter grunted as he chugged a large cup of coffee.

“Oh well,” he said, shrugging. “It’s going to be a long while before I can ever savor anything, so I might as well have indulged a bit.”

Sergei simply said, “Well that’s good. At least I don’t have to drag your pink-faced inebriated giggling self all over town anymore.” When Yon-Soo looked defensive, he added, “But hey, at least you could still walk somewhat. Hyong-Jin was singing idiotic songs from some show he saw called “Milky Way and the Galaxy Girls,” and needed to ride on Firebrand’s back to get here. I always thought it was exaggeration, but I guess Asian people really can’t hold their liquor.”

Porter, Sergei and Firebrand were all laughing, but Yon-Soo and Hyong-Jin (who just exited the bathroom) both slapped their palms against their faces, partially out of embarrassment and partially because they really didn’t want to admit the others were spot-on.

“Okay!” Yon-Soo half yelled through clenched teeth, trying to hide his annoyance. “What’s the plan for today anyway?”

“I’d love to get something to eat first,” Porter admitted. “After that, we can go back to the Academy and regroup with other soldiers and find out where to go from there.”

“Sounds good,” Yon-Soo nodded.

Once everyone was done cleaning up and gathering their belongings, they trekked out to the city in search of somewhere to eat. The whole city was still just as backed up as it was last night; with civilians everywhere not knowing where to go or what to do. Most seemed like they were going to leave Nizhny Novogorod to hopefully safer zones farther east in Russia, or even to the Pacific, the Americas and Australia. But that still didn’t mean the whole place wasn’t congested. Several businesses in the area were filled beyond capacity trying to cater to clients, and the roads were so overcrowded with vehicles and pedestrians alike that even law enforcement was tied up in knots trying to direct things in an orderly fashion.

“Crap, where do we go now?” Firebrand asked, clearly frustrated.

“We’ll have to try to keep looking,” Porter replied.

It wasn’t exactly easy. Most restaurants and cafes were already having their own hands full trying to give clients a place to sit and a meal to eat. Some places even had to close because their stocks had run low, and knowing that the Barrier was close and that food supplies were unlikely to reach here due to there being other, more high-priority areas full of refugees who couldn’t bring any money during the evacuations, they were unlikely to ever reopen.

Firebrand began to complain, “Arrgh, how hard could it be to find a place to eat?!”

“Why don’t you just eat the grass at the park? You can’t be too dissimilar to earth horses, right?” Sergei asked him.

Firebrand’s lips pursed slightly as he answered, “Well, it’s weird. We can, and in especially desperate times like a famine, being lost in unfamiliar territory, or a harsh winter, or when they just couldn’t afford food, ponies can resort to grazing. But we generally don’t like it or find it appetizing. I think it’s about the same as a human eating bugs - you could eat bugs, but you probably wouldn’t because it’s just gross.”

Yon-Soo shrugged and said, “Eh, some cultures have bugs as food. I remember once seeing my grandparents in the countryside one summer as a kid, and my cousin and I ate some fried silkworms. Can’t say I liked it, but it’s there.”

Hyong-Jin snorted. “Please, it was worse back where I’m from. Some of us had to eat porridge made from the corn cob and dead birds we found on the sidewalks just so our stomachs would stop growling all the time. Anytime I get hungry nowadays, it’s nothing compared to how it was way long before.”

It was a rare moment for Hyong-Jin to talk about his past, and it was generally not something the guys liked hearing. Hyong-Jin’s childhood was no doubt brutal, and it was understandable that he generally didn’t like to talk much about his old life.

“Wait, what’s that up over there?” Firebrand pointed.

There was an orange sign in the distance, right next to what looked like a large house. It was written in Russian.

“What’s it say?” Porter asked Sergei.

“It says “hungry soldiers welcome here.” I think it’s worth a shot.”

They shrugged and decided to check it out. The house was some large duplex style home, and there were indeed a few soldiers out sitting at the front steps and eating plates of food. There were also a couple ponies eating bowls of salad.

A teenage girl with brown hair, likely a resident of this house saw them and smiled, letting them in. “Come on in,” she told them. “We’ve been making food for hungry soldiers, and you all look like you can use a bite to eat.”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Sergei replied to her.

“Oh, not at all!” the girl said. “We have prepared ourselves very well, and we have more than enough to go around. Granny can make more than enough food to feed a whole army!”

Sergei translated what the girl said and the group seemed on board.

“Well, these guys look like they’re satisfied,” Yon-Soo noted, seeing some soldiers looking rather jovial as they ate, a rare sight to behold these days.

“Alright, let’s go on then,” Porter agreed, and they entered the house.

The whole house was filled with soldiers, some standing, others sitting wherever they could, eating bowls of okroshka and a plate with a piece of kotlety and bread. They walked into the kitchen where two women were at work making more food. One looked like she could be the teenage girl’s mother, somewhere in her forties, who was peeling potatoes and chopping vegetables. The other was a plump and much older lady, no doubt the girl’s Granny, who was standing at the stove, frying more kotlety in a pan while keeping watch over a boiling pot of hot soup.

The girl said in Russian, “Mama, Granny, more have come - four men and one pony! Do we still have enough okroshka and bread to start them off?”

The mother turned and replied, “Enough okroshka for two men, I’m sure, but the shchi will be done in a moment, and it will still be a bit before the kotlety is done cooking. We do have enough salad for the pony as well. See to them, Olga, and make sure they’re alright with waiting.”

“Will do, Mama!” she said before turning to ask Sergei if he and the other soldiers were alight with waiting.

“Tell her it’s no problem at all,” Porter said to Sergei. “It’s only a couple minutes, so we understand.”

Sergei relayed the message, and Granny replied, “Oh, don’t worry, your wait will be worth it!”

It wasn’t too long before they were given plates and bowls. While Sergei took some okroshka, Porter, Yon-Soo and Hyong-Jin opted to try out the shchi. The broth was slightly opaque, and filled with chunks of cabbage, tomato, onion, carrot and slices of beef. There was also bread and fresh kotlety, much to the enjoyment of the other soldiers. Firebrand got a large bowl of salad with sliced cabbage, carrots, tomatoes, and celery.

They sat in the living room alongside other soldiers and ponies, enjoying the moment. It was telling that no one was really paying much attention to the news, which was following up on the aftermath of the nuking of Washington DC. Mostly memorials and stuff like that. Yon-Soo took in a spoonful of the shchi and fell in love immediately. It wasn’t very spicy, but he could taste the subtle hints of garlic and bay leaves in it, and the meat was perfectly tender. It may not have been his own grandmother’s cooking but Granny sure did come close. Some truths applied to all cultures it seemed…

A piercing scream echoed, grabbing everyone’s attention. Several soldiers set their food down, rushing out to the door. Granny and Olga’s mother also came along, clearly scared, and with good reason - Olga was nowhere to be seen.

At the front yard, they saw what was causing a ruckus, and Yon-Soo noticed the utter dread that washed over Porter.

“Let me go!!” Olga’s voice rang out. She was struggling against some burly looking man in what looked like some makeshift armor. There was a small group of men and women in similar clothes and they all looked well armed. Their weapons were either beaten to hell and back, or new, practically gleaming black metal and polymer; all of it stolen, no doubt.

“Come on, kid,” the burly man said, “we came here for food. The sign said hungry soldiers welcome. Not these… pony prancing traitors!” His eyes drifted over Firebrand and the other ponies in disgust.

“You’re not soldiers!” Olga’s mother yelled. “And let go of my daughter! She did nothing to you!”

“We will when you give us some food!” another man barked her, pointing his rifle at her. “We deserve it more than them! They’re probably halfway to being newfoals already!”

“You shut your fucking mouth,” Hyong-Jin whispered.

“Get the hell away from them!” Sergei yelled angrily, pointing his own gun at that man. The anger on his face was clear and he was not going to let these people die.

On cue, Firebrand flew up and before anyone could react, he kicked the leader right in the face, causing him to release Olga. Olga ran up to her mother and grandmother, and a small group of soldiers rushed them back into the house while the fight commenced.

There wasn’t much cover, but that didn’t stop anyone from going at each other. Yon-Soo immediately fired off from behind a tree, cursing the fact that he didn’t have his AK-107. Their armor wasn’t anything advanced, but it still provided enough protection to shield their torsos.

There was a unicorn among the other ponies, and she could barely keep her shield up against the shots raining down on her and the group of soldiers she came with, the group quickly falling back into the house as quickly as possible. Porter unloaded a good amount of his own rifle’s magazine into the shooter, driving him off and killing him, bullet holes riddling his body. Firebrand meanwhile was flying up in the air, trying to dodge gunshots.

A few soldiers were occupying the higher levels of the house, shooting at the assailants under the cover of the house. They sniped the attackers, managing to get them at their weaker points. This worked well; it was pretty clear that even if this gang was well-armed, their tactics weren’t worth shit. Yon-Soo and another soldier each unloaded a decent amount of bullets into the last member, any part of his body that was unprotected getting hacked to bits by the rounds.

It was mercifully, if not anticlimactically, brief. These mercenaries/not-soldiers were disposed of quickly, their bodies looking almost like Swiss cheese. Yon-Soo just felt pity for them; they could have been perfectly good soldiers, but it was clear that their anti-pony stance (as seen earlier) kept them from it, and now they were dead and gone.

The other soldiers didn’t hesitate to get down to business. Some were making calls to law enforcement and their own commanding officers, as others stripped their bodies for their armor, weapons, ammunition, rations, and anything else of worth. And other soldiers were helping out each other, looking over anyone that might have been injured by stray bullets in this fight.

“Well, now what?” Yon-Soo asked.

Porter replied, “We’re going to have to report this to the Commanding Officers, and probably the police as well. My parents told me these kinds of groups have been popping up all over the place.”

“A bunch of pretend mercenaries that think they’re better than us?” Yon-Soo asked.

“Yeah, and they think every pony here is a spy and anyone working with them is a traitor. You saw how they looked at Firebrand.”

“Oh God, seriously? Do they really think they’re going to help us with that kind of attitude?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, at least for right now. Come on, let’s go back inside and check up on the family. No doubt they’d all be shaken up.”

As they walked in, Yon-Soo noticed Hyong-Jin and Firebrand having a small conversation with each other, and couldn’t help but realize that Hyong-Jin could have very easily become like those people they just fought - a rabidly anti-pony warrior consumed by his hatred instead of seeing reason. He had to admit, he was very glad they had Firebrand around, who was not only a valuable teammate but also a good friend, and it was clear that pegasus had a good effect on Hyong-Jin in general.

Olga, her mother and Granny were huddled in the living room. Olga was curled up in her mother’s arms, crying and clearly traumatized after that harrowing ordeal they had all just gone through. The other soldiers guarding them were now somber, the fight earlier reminding them of yet another grim fact about this war.

“Just who were those people?” Granny asked, half-scared and half-angered at the fact that those people tried to shoot her daughter, hurt her granddaughter and almost killed several of the soldiers.

Porter looked to Sergei and asked, “Are you okay with translating for me?”

“Not a problem at all.”

“Well,” Porter began, “those people were likely part of the Human Liberation Front, though there’s a chance they might call themselves something different. They are a group of mercenaries that operate outside of any standard military units, though I’ve heard them referred to as a hate group as well. For the most part, they’re very rabidly anti-pony to the point that they’ve even targeted the…” he paused, muttering something in English about how ‘PHL’ didn’t translate well. “Ponies For Human Life, who are perfectly innocent ponies that have been helping us in the war and hate Celestia as much as you do, maybe even more. The HLF doesn’t think they deserve the thanks, just cause they’re ponies, and they’ve hurt, killed, tortured, even had hunts for them, and they’re utterly convinced they’re helping us when they’re really not. It’s like they can’t fucking comprehend that they’re doing wrong!”

As Sergei translated this, Olga’s expression turned to confusion. “But why?” she asked. “Going by what you’ve said, they don’t care about innocent civilians and people just trying to live. I understand being mad at the PER and the newfoals, but why would they do such a thing? The man that grabbed me was shaking like a madman, and that other man that pointed his gun at my mom looked like he was really going to shoot her and Granny.”

Sergei translated this for her, and Porter shrugged and replied, “I don’t know. If you ask me, they’re just plain insane. I’ve done some digging around and a lot of HLF members seem to have had criminal pasts; the war just gives them an excuse to do whatever they want. Though...”

“What? What is it?” Firebrand asked.

“Well, there’s more than a few HLF members who joined because they thought they had no other choice, or dove in on the spur of the moment. Family men and women, people who lost loved ones... If they’re not insane with hatred when they join, they’re definitely headed in that direction.”

After Sergei relayed what Porter said, Olga’s mother looked downright frightened. She whispered something under her breath, clearly sounding aggravated that she and her family had yet one more thing to worry about in this war no one ever asked for.

Yon-Soo asked, “Did they get any training? The military has been giving civilians self-defense courses. If they haven’t gotten anything, they should sign up. We can help them.”

Sergei asked them and the expressions on the three women’s faces clearly said they hadn’t, but Olga at least looked interested. She said something to her mother, and Yon-Soo could only assume she was all for getting some self-defense lessons. Olga’s mother looked worried and scared, but Granny seemed a bit more open to the idea.

“It would be a good idea,” Sergei told them. “And really at this point, everyone needs to learn how to defend themselves. It’s sad to say, but danger is lurking in every corner nowadays. It’s better to be prepared for the worst.”

Olga’s mother clearly didn’t like what she was hearing but knew that this was something they would have to do. She asked Sergei what Yon-Soo could only guess was where to look for self-defense classes.

A somber atmosphere nearly took over the house, but Granny clapped her hands and declared something, getting the soldiers’ spirits up.

“What did she say?”

“She said that we can worry about that stuff later; for one thing, we still haven’t finished our meals,” Sergei translated.

Firebrand smiled and admitted, “She is right. I didn’t even get to taste my salad.”

Yon-Soo found his bowl, and resumed eating, glad that the soup hadn’t cooled down too much. It wasn’t lost on him that things went from stable to crazy, then stable again.

He supposed these mood whiplashes were something to be expected nowadays.





“This is very distressing news,” the St. Petersburg CO said, looking over the reports that had been submitted to them. There were reports of start-up mercenary groups all over the world assaulting human and pony civilians alike, showing a blatant disregard for safety, and brutal methods that went beyond justified anger against an enemy wishing to snuff out the entire human race. 

Yon-Soo, his friends, and many other soldiers were in a large lecture hall at the Medical Academy, the commanding officers of several cities’ military branches having come together to discuss the rise of these groups. It seemed like for now, battling Royal Guards and newfoals would have to take a backseat to this disturbing new development.

“I’m sorry, Commander,” one soldier said, “but how are we supposed to combat this problem while ignoring the Equestrians or PER?”

“We don’t,” another CO, most likely from Moscow, replied. “But some of you will have to take on the task of getting rid of these groups. Believe us, it is not an exaggeration when I say these people would be the biggest danger to human-pony cooperation, and I’m not sure if they’re going to be more dangerous to us or the Equestrians; they’ve shown equal contempt for both, and our acceptance of ponies in support and scouting roles has enraged them immensely. They could kill any potentially useful allies from Equestria, and given their blatant disregard for civilian casualties, they could have also taken many innocent people into their clutches or outright killed them. Local law enforcement, both from here in Nizhny Novogorod and in places already destroyed by the barrier have come to us with reports of several missing persons, most of them women and children, and we have reason to believe these groups are linked to them.”

Yon-Soo frowned; that would make sense. He was now even more glad that he and his friends had disposed of those mercenaries from earlier before; God only knew what those sick men (who probably had criminal pasts if Porter was right) could’ve done to poor Olga and her mother.

Many of the ponies here also shuddered, worried for any other Equestrian defectors that could’ve ended up in the HLF’s clutches. There was no telling what kinds of horrible things their brethren were being subjected to at those people’s hands...

‘What a waste...’ Yon-Soo lamented as the meeting was called to a close and the soldiers departed, receiving briefing reports for their next missions. He picked up a file for himself and walked along with the rest of his group.





“We have to go all the way out in Siberia?!” Hyong-Jin asked, utterly bewildered and dreading the inevitably unpleasant weather there.

“It’s our next mission,” Porter stated. It was clear he didn’t like the idea of this either, but continued on, “aside from the HLF upshoots we’re going to have to get rid of, we’re also likely to cross into the paths of PER knockoff groups. 

“So we’re gonna be caught in the crossfire of various fanatics,” Yon-Soo grumbled, pretty much summarizing their mission. He rubbed his forehead, trying not to remember his first brush with those misanthropic nutjobs.

“Pretty much. This is going to be fun,” Aitmatov said sarcastically.

Firebrand, though just as apprehensive, seemed a bit more optimistic. “Well, maybe we can kill two birds with one stone. Plus, keep in mind, if we find any Equestrian defectors, they can help us out, all of us really.”

“True,” Blizzard said. “But I sincerely doubt that they’ll be in the best frame of mind if they’ve sequestered themselves so far up north. We’re unused to harsh weather like it is on earth - it can change so quickly on a whim, without warning. When we escaped Equestria, we were caught in a massive storm. My parents kept on checking their weather schedule, long after they knew it wouldn’t work.”

“If you don’t like the weather in New England, wait a minute,” Aitmatov recited. They all stared at him. “What? It seemed relevant enough. But trust me, Blizzard, you wouldn’t like it there. And, I suspect, neither will any ponies that try to invade America if the barrier gets there.”

Melnik didn’t seem too convinced. “You’re too optimistic, Khan. The Barrier will hit them, same as everyone else. Nothing can get through that thing, and they’ll likely struggle to survive as desperately as us, if not more.”

“Yeesh, sounds like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Blizzard remarked, cringing at how pessimistic he was acting.

“Think of it, though,” Melnik said. “When the barrier has eaten up the Atlantic, think of how big it’ll be. How much it will have consumed. We’re living in the last vestiges of the carefree lives of the twentieth century-”

Aitmatov and Porter stared at him, their eyes recalling past conflicts.

“Well, our cultures weren’t dying by inches back then!” Melnik exclaimed. “Mark my words though. It will get worse.”

Everyone became uneasy with this. They didn’t like the sound of this in the least. But Melnik had a point; as far as everyone knew, no human made object could get through the barrier. Probably not even nukes could do anything, and if they attempted to give Equestria radiation poisoning, it’d likely do more harm than good…

Sergei then tried to change the subject and get everyone to focus on the more immediate matters. “So when would we have to leave?”

Porter looked over the briefing report and answered, “By tomorrow morning. We’ll be boarding a plane heading to Yeniseysk, from there we will drive into Lesosibrisk.”

Yon-Soo sighed and said, “Well, we might as well get ready now then.”

“Right,” Firebrand agreed. He now looked a bit dejected and Yon-Soo couldn’t blame him; it would be nothing short of heartbreaking if all of this work everyone - from Ambassador Heartstrings, to Marcus and the PHL, the EU forces, themselves - did could all be for nothing. That they could fight like maddened beasts, defend against hordes of millions, advance in technology by leaps and bounds and turn war into glorified pest control, and yet it would all be gone like tears in the rain.

It was a sobering thought indeed.

> A Melody of Flames and Frost
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 7: A Melody of Flames and Frost


Editors/Co-writers
Redskin122004
Doctor Fluffy
Proudtobe



“How can humans even live here? It’s nothing but snow and ice in the winter, and summer doesn’t look much better,” Firebrand remarked, his teeth chattering. He and Blizzard were both bundled up in specially made jackets that had holes in the back for their wings. “The Crystal Empire didn’t even look anywhere this cold.”

“Just be glad we’re not in Oymyakon,” Melnik agreed. “Coldest place I’ve ever been…”

“And on the other side of things, there’s deserts like Arizona,” Yon-Soo added. “I once shot a music video in the desert, and I was sweating everyday.”

“You’d be surprised at some of the temperatures we can live in,” Porter replied. “Still, the weather’s really weird. At this time of the year…”

“It is fascinating to see what a world without pegasus weather control looks like. It’s like a whole planet being the Everfree Forest,” Blizzard Flurry admitted, apparently handling the chill better than Firebrand. “I can see why humans had to be a hardy species; to live in such a brutal place and not be able to control the weather would make anyone have to be as tough as possible to survive day-to-day.”

Blizzard indeed brought up a good point. Yon-Soo himself had heard only a few bits and pieces of Equestria’s history from Firebrand and other ponies he had encountered, but it was clear that the ponies were, in a way, lucky. They had powers that allowed them to be able to manipulate their environments and, of course, Celestia had been around to solve problems for them and, according to legend, even burned most common predators to ash. Early humans were little more than hunters that had to be ruthless and resourceful to survive an inhospitable planet, and even still humans had a difficult time with extreme weather phenomena.

“So where do we go first?” Hyong-Jin asked as he tried to warm up his pinkened ears. The plane ride from Nizhny Novgorod to the outpost in Lesosibirsk wasn’t anything hospitable, but it had been a warm and toasty paradise compared to this. While it still was technically summer coming on autumn, given the geography, it seemed like the weather decided to be cruel today. The clouds were so thick the sunlight couldn’t penetrate it, and the air felt wet. And the wind was practically howling, which made the plane trip even more difficult. In fact, Firebird and Blizzard had been clinging to something the whole ride, afraid that the plane would, in Firebird’s words, “shake itself apart.”

While Yon-Soo had assured him that yes, it was normal for the plane to shake, he had to admit it had been awhile since it had gotten that bad.

“We have to retrieve some spare equipment first, and maybe a GPS too, just in case. We have a mission to do and it could take us pretty deep into the wilderness,” Porter replied.

Dread washed over Yon-Soo. Even before his old pampered existence as a celebrity, he never liked the “great outdoors,” and it took ungodly amounts of willpower from him to go through that DMZ walkthrough without complaining. And with how the weather was acting up, it would only add to the unpleasantness. Might as well get it over with…

“Alright,” Yon-Soo said, “let’s get going!”





This. Was not. Going well.

At all.

The rain had only gotten worse, the droplets beating down on them with merciless force. It felt like a bunch of tiny daggers made of water stabbing into whatever skin was exposed. The ground was slippery and saturated, the mud almost sinking under their boots with every step they took.

Yon-Soo had promised himself and Porter that he would not complain, but right now, this situation kind of  warranted some frustration.

“This is not what I had in mind!” the South Korean soldier growled angrily, trying not to trip when his boot got stuck in some very thick, gooey mud.

“I have to agree,” Melnik begrudgingly added. “This rain is not helping us in any way to be brutally honest.”

“Wait a second! You two are pegasi, and you can control the weather, right?” Hyong-Jin asked Firebrand and Blizzard, who both nodded. “Why not use your powers to clear up this storm?”

Both ponies shook their heads, Blizzard replying, “While we can do stuff with the weather on earth, we’d have to mold it, and that takes a lot of magic. Earth lacks magic, and moreover, just two of us would barely put a dent in clouds this thick and heavy, even in Equestria. I’m sorry, guys, but there really isn’t anything Firebrand and I can do in this regard.”

“Oh well,” Hyong-Jin grumbled in an utterly dejected tone, “it was worth a shot.”

“We have to keep going at least,” Porter said, clearly trying his best not to let the rain get to him. Someone had to put on a good face for everyone in this miserable weather, after all. But it was clear even he wasn’t liking this either. Blizzard flew upwards to try scouting ahead, as it never hurt to know what may lie ahead.

“That’s weird…” she said over the radio.

“What exactly?” Aitmatov asked her.

“There’s a spot of completely clear, sunny weather up north west. Like someone cut a hole out of the clouds.”

Firebrand looked genuinely surprised at that. “It would take a lot of ponies and work just to cut a hole into clouds this thick, so that’d would have to be a large group...” the realization dawned on him.

It didn’t take much to put two and two together. Porter immediately said, “PER. I’m more than sure of that.”

“Wait,” Blizzard added. “I’m seeing what looks like people fighting.”

Porter turned to Firebrand and asked, “Would you be able to fly one of us up there?”

Firebrand nodded and said, “You’d probably have to lighten yourself up a bit, but I should be able to get one of you up there.”

“I’ll go up,” Hyong-Jin offered as he took his backpack, extra weapons and ammo magazines off. Firebrand nodded, let Hyong-Jin on his back and spread out his wings, flying up. They, along with Blizzard, flew closer to the clear spot to get a better look, but they were still far enough not to be seen by any pegasi. Blizzard and Hyong-Jin looked through the binoculars

“What’s the whole situation?” Yon-Soo asked them over the walkie talkie.

“Definitely HLF and PER fighting against each other. They’re both giving as good as the other’s got,” Blizzard replied, spotting a group of people on one side shooting at a group of mainly ponies and a couple humans that were tossing bottles of the familiar purple liquid at each other.

“That gives me an idea,” Aitmatov said. “Sit back and enjoy the destruction, and then we swoop in, and mop up the survivors. Kill or detain in custody, either way, it makes the job a little easier for us.”

“Actually, that doesn’t sound too bad,” Yon-Soo agreed. “Less work for us at any rate.”

“Let’s move in closer then,” said Porter. “We have plenty of hiding spots to take advantage of as well; just in case any pegasi might be on the look-out.”

“I don’t think that's going to matter anymore…” Hyong-Jin said with a tone that screamed ‘oh crap,’ as the group watched the surrounding clouds erupted with at least a hundred of pegasi, all of them diving down to the fighting group.

“God damn it…” Sergei watched as the HLF members shift fire, taking down scores of them as they drew closer. “That’s too neat. I don't think we dealing with your run of the mill crazies.”

“No kidding,” Porter muttered as he watched the air-cavalry get decimated. Aitmatov grunted as he watched the group reacted to threats, their movements all but screaming military precision.

“What now? We are a group of eight against a small army!” Yon-Soo hissed as Blizzard and Firebrand dropped Hyong-Jin back off. “This isn’t going to be like those mercenary wannabes we faced back in Nizhny Novgorod.”

“Show the humans the light!” a voice echoed to their right, and the group hit the ground, their muddy brown and green camouflage blending into the ground, while Firebrand and Blizzard covered themselves up with mud and nearby leaves. The soldiers watched as a stampede of newfoals rushed by, missing them by mere meters. But most unsettling were the scatterings of Royal Guard cadets in their midst. The stampede ran at the group with zealous intent, their smiles bright as they got closer. The HLF were still struggling with the dozen or so pegasi when they found themselves being overrun on their flank, the dozens of unicorns and earth ponies taking them by surprise.

The group reacted well enough, but the damage was done. Ever so slowly, both groups were being whittled down to a mere dozen on each side.

An earth pony newfoal tackled a human, the vial in his mouth shattering and dosing the human on the ground, followed by the HLF members riddling both of them with bullets.

Another HLF member wearing a military grade hazmat suit found himself being lifted up by a unicorn cadet, his suit being ripped to shreds before he was drenched in potion, only to explode a second later when he managed to pull the pin off one of his grenades.

“Come on,” Porter growled as he hefted his AK-12. It was a civilian model, and most Russian military personnel still carried the AK-74, but he’d liked the AK-12’s balanced recoil and the AN94 was too expensive and unreliable. “Aitmatov, can you give us some sniper support?”

“Sure can,” Aitmatov smirked as he set himself up, unlimbering his SVN2015 sniper. It was essentially a Dragunov, but with an AN94’s blowback-shifted pulse and hyper-burst systems. He’d also taken to carrying at least four drum magazines for the thing, and a few American-made 20-round box magazines, in case he had to use it for medium-range combat. “As long as Blizzard can be my eyes in the sky.”

“Do you have to ask, old man?” Blizzard smiled before taking flight. “I’ll make sure they never see you coming.”

“Good, the rest of us will go in and secure the area. Try keep some of them alive,” Porter said as he looked to the group, then give a rather dark look. “Doesn’t mean we have to be nice about it. Move out.”

“Kind of excessive, don’t you think?” Yon-Soo whispered to Porter, only to flinch at the vicious look Porter gave him. 

“This particular branch of HLF has something that some of the others don’t have,” Porter grumbled as he checked his weapon. “They have military personnel on board. And that means they have access to more powerful weapons. I read the full report of this group. The Premier has sent for these men to help in the war effort, help the PHL in trying to secure the country. A group of ten was attached and all of them were killed, but not before they were tortured and violated in every way before being killed by the very soldiers that was suppose to help them.”

The look on Porter’s face became even grimmer as he added, “And I mean violated in every sense of the word.”

“Holy shit…” Yon-Soo whispered, looking up to Firebrand as he took flight. “That’s why you didn’t say anything to Blizzard or Firebrand?”

Porter nodded his head before looking at the group. “Aitmatov, take out the cadets and heavy weapons. We’ll strike the HLF members from behind. Firebrand, you see an opening to take the leader, you go for it and drag the bastard back here, and we’ll back you up. Got it?”

Aitmatov nodded while Blizzard flew upwards to perch on a tree to be his spotter.

Firebrand replied over the radio, “Read you loud and clear, Porter.”

“Alright. Keep yourself hidden. We don’t want anyone thinking you’re with PER agents,” Porter said.

“Roger,” Firebrand replied.

As Yon-Soo watched the battle between the PER and the HLF through the ironsight of his battered old Daewoo K2 rifle, he was struck by the feelings he felt toward the battle.

Or rather, the lack thereof. Both sides believed they were doing the right thing, and hundreds of ponies were simply throwing themselves at the HLF guns. The PER were so viciously dogmatic that they were gleefully sacrificing themselves to save humanity from itself in a banzai charge. Optimistically speaking, the HLF members thought they were the brave underdogs, the gallant multinational human resistance.

Neither of them were right. The battle wasn’t even between actual military forces. It was an exercise in futility, two children of opposing parents fighting a battle that would solve nothing. While nobody was likely to shed tears over dead PER members, that didn’t change that it was an utter waste.

Blizzard said over the radio, “Khan, some PER are trying to flank the HLF on your right. They’re coming dangerously close, they think I’m a scout.” 

“Alright. Porter?” Aitmatov asked. “I have a silencer for my rifle. Want me to take care of them?”

“Go ahead. Just don’t use that revolver, that’s a damn hand cannon,” Porter muttered as he looked to the trees.

"If I use it, I doubt anyone would notice," Aitmatov remarked, striding off into the woods.

Porter looked up to see the ponies begin to fall, all of them attempting to find cover only to be taken out before they got far. Apparently, their cries of surprise got the attention of someone else.

Porter held up his hand, watching as a BMP came into view, its treads melted and fused together, leaving the heavy infantry vehicle stuck in its place. The turret however, was still working. 

"Damn." Melnik groused as he watched the flanking new foals get ripped apart. "What now, team leader? That heavy armor will tear us apart, it's still manned and running."

Porter stared at the armored vehicle before looking at Melnik. "Think you can work it?"

Melnik blinked once before smiling. "Yes. Yes I can."

"Then procure me a BMP."

“I’ll cover him soon as I get those PER opooscheny,” Aitmatov said, staring up into the sky. “Suka! I almost wish I had something shorter-ranged.”

“Hey! I have something!” Blizzard said over the radio. "I see a guy with a red beret barking orders to everyone else, near the Tigr in the center."

"Der’mo, please tell me you don't see a golden star with wreaths around it," Aitmatov groaned as he lined up the shot to get a look. "Ohooiet! Never mind I see him. Porter, we have a Spetsnaz officer leading the group.”

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Porter growled with a mixture of dread and disbelief as he got behind a tree to hide himself. "Damn it. This mission got a lot harder."

"Uh... for some of us that don’t understand, what does that word mean?" Hyong-Jin whispered as he laid down behind a rock.

"They are like North Koreans Special Operation Force," Porter answered as he looked to see a new foal get in close and use its brawny body to overcome the humans, only to get ripped apart by the guns. "Only ten times better than the NKSOF."

"O-oh... ssibal..." Hyong-Jin muttered as he looked back the fighting.

"Taking him down will not be easy," Porter grumbled as he looked out. He watched as the turret turned to lay waste to another group of new foals, "Melnik."

"Moving," Melnik answered as he rushed forward.

Aitmatov stared down his scope again. “Damn. Is that… those sons of bitches, how does this not surprise me.”

“What?” Yon-Soo asked.

“Fucking Neo-Nazis,” Aitmatov said. “Well. There goes my guilt for the rest of the day.”





"Chto za hui?!" the BMP operator growled as he looked away from his screen, the sound of someone banging on the exit gaining his attention. 

"Ey ! My rabotayet v usloviyakh nekhvatki boyepripasov ! Boris skazal, chto yest' zapasnoy boyepripasy v BMP ! Eti chertovy urody delayut budem tratit' patrony , kak sumasshedshiy ... " a voice called out. The operator grumbled, not at all concerned for trickery due to the cursing voice. He looked around the troop bay and saw a spare box of ammo sitting near the exit.

" Khorosho khorosho . Pozvol'te mne dver'," the operator sighed, opening the door, only to stare at an unfamiliar man standing before him. “zhdat' , kto-URK!”

The man gave a gurgling cry as the nine inch blade slammed into his throat, shredding any hope of warning his compatriots. Melnik stepped over him as he placed his knife back in its sheath, ignoring the weak grasping of his legs of the dying man. "Thank you, comrade," he said mockingly. "Team Leader, I'm in. BMP is under our control."

"Good. The PER and new foals are almost out of the way." Porter growled as he hid behind the armor vehicle. "Yon-Soo, Hyong-Jin, Sergei! Ready yourselves!"

"Yes sir!"

"Melnik, if you will start us off please." Porter pulled up out of cover, taking aim at the closest HLF fanatic and pulling the trigger, which was drowned out by the BMP heavy anti-infantry gun.

*BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM!*

Yon-Soo watched as the HLF members get torn apart, shocked looks forming on their faces as one of their own seemingly turned against them. One or two even held out their arms and waved at them, in an attempt to make Melnik stop firing at them, believing that he was in the middle of friendly fire.

The turret quickly zeroed in and blasted them apart, causing every HLF to scatter and hide behind cover. This had the unfortunate side effect of exposing them to the surviving new foals.

"Flanking!" Hyong-Jin yelled out as he raced towards a Tigr.

"On your six," Sergei replied as he followed right behind him as they rounded a Tigr, before they found themselves staring at a HLF member standing at the edge of the vehicle. 

Caught off guard by her appearance, both Sergei and Hyong-Jin both stumbled back from her as she leveled a Saiga shotgun with a drum magazine at them. 

“...Sonovabitch!” Sergei roared out as he stumbled back, dragging Hyong-Jin behind him.

Hyong-Jin and Sergei knew they were dead as the young woman scowled and began to pull the trigger, only to vanish in a flash of red and orange, the Saiga clattering uselessly onto the ground, and a scream of pain quickly distancing away from them.

"I got your back guys!" Firebrand grunted as he let go of the screaming woman, watching as she plummeted to the earth, her body skipping over the ground at high speeds before impacting a tree. Bullets sped past him, forcing him to use evasive maneuvers.  "Luna's ass!" he swore, swooping, weaving from side to side as erratically as he could manage without HLF bullets shooting off his wings.

"Don't worry, Firebrand," Blizzard said calmly as she watched the gunner on the Tigr keep his sights on Firebrand, "We got you covered. Got him, Khan?"

The gunner slumped over, his gun swinging wildly and taking out both PER and HLF in the trail of bullets before the body fell off. Aitmatov only grunted as he sighted in the next target. "Da! Next target?"

"Two Targets, both one o'clock, one near Tigr, second target on Tigr gun, target one Royal Cadet, target two heavy vehicle gunner."

"Da! one o'clock, near Tigr and Tigr gun, Royal Cadet and heavy gunner, Targets confirmed."

"Ninety yards for target one, seventy yards for target two, wind from five o'clock to one o'clock, three mph."

"Ready."

"Send it." Blizzard’s eyes narrowed as she watched the cadet's shield flicker as the rest of the HLF began to spray at him. The converted new foals jumped in front of him to protect him as they dove at the humans. The cadet only had a chance to smile before his entire left side of his face vanished in a mist of blood. A heavy gunner cheered before a giant hole tore through his armor and chest.

"Reloading," Aitmatov said, watching as Blizzard jumped to a different branch.

"I have one trying to get past Porter and take out Yon-Soo," Blizzard responded as she watched a HLF member avoid the BMP and Porter’s combined assault, Yon-Soo struggling with his weapon as it jammed on him. 

Yon-Soo’s eyes widened as he pulled back while the man fired at him, bullets bouncing off the armor plating. The man turned the corner, only for the gun to be kicked out of his hand. The man scowled as he attempted to pull his sidearm, only to grunt as Yon-Soo hit him in the gut with the butt of his rifle and then slammed his knee into his face, causing him to tumble and fall onto his back. Yon-Soo pulled out his own sidearm and fired off several rounds and dropping him. "Hostile down!"

Firebrand shot past him in an upward motion, plowing through a new foal pegasus, its ribs shattered with a sickening crack as he slammed into him. Once the pegasus was dispatched he looked down to the ground. His eyes widen as he watched as the red beret wearing Spetsnaz reached into a Tigr and pulled out a RPG-16 and tossed it to a nearby HLF and began to scream at them as he pointed at the BMP.

"RPG!" Firebrand called out and was going to dive in, only to turn away as a bullet bit into his shoulder. Firebrand pulled away, hissing in pain as he turned to glare at the scowling Spetsnaz as he continued to at Firebrand to drive him away. "Melnik! Get out of there!"

Melnik barely heard the warning, confusion on his face as the turret finally settled on a new group of targets.

One of them aiming a RPG-16 at him.

"Ebat kopat'!" Melnik yelled, struggling out of the seat and racing for the exit.

Porter was too busy to hear the warning and only had a chance to bring up his weapon before he saw the rocket propelled grenade head straight for the BMP he was hiding behind.

"SHIT!" Porter threw himself back, the explosion ripping the BMP apart and the force of the blast tossed him away.

Yon-Soo heard the warning and took cover behind a small boulder, watching just in time to see Melnik jump from the armor vehicle before he was engulfed in flames and tossed away. "Melnik! Man down! I need cover fire!"

"Covering!" Sergei yelled.

"Get him out of there!"

Yon-Soo raced towards him, Hyong-Jin and Sergei covering him as he raced to the crawling soldier. He gasped and a wave of nausea hit him at the sight of Melnik raising his left arm, revealing it had been shattered right below the elbow. Yon-Soo scrambled back up and quickly grabbed Melnik’s good arm, dragging him back into cover.

"Ostav'te menya ... ne umeret' za starika ..." Melnik moaned out, his face full of pain as he gripped his missing arm.

"Porter!" 

Porter’s head jerked up, ringing in his ears slowly petered out as the sounds of battle and screams came back in full force. "Porter! Melnik is down! I need help putting a tourniquet on his arm! Get him out before the PER find him!"

Porter barely nodded his head to Yon-Soo as he dragged himself to them before the sound of a man screaming caught his attention.  His eyes widened in shock as a man raced towards him with a large knife in hand. Porter clutched blindly for his AK-12 before the top of the man's head vanished in a burst of blood and gore.

“Tebe pizd'ets! YA ub'yu vas vsekh, vy suka!” Aitmatov roared. “Nikto ne bolit moikh druzey!”

“Don’t worry!” one pegasus newfoal yelled, flying down at Melnik. “Once you get the potion, you’ll be all-”

“Suka poshel nakhuy uyebok!” Aitmatov yelled, staring through the scope and firing.

The heavy 7.62x54 round hit the newfoal in the flank, severing one leg and utterly obliterating its stomach. The pegasus fell to the ground, crying as it asked why they were rejecting their Queen’s “gifts,” only to be abruptly cut off as its bandolier of potion vials shattered when it hit the ground, the glass shards shredding through its body.

“Wait, please, friend!” an earth pony yelled. “He just wanted to-”

Aitmatov sighted him in and fired, severing the pony’s head like he’d been put through the guillotine.

“Come on, you bastards!” Aitmatov yelled, shooting an HLF man with an incongruous leather jacket, blood exploding out of the curiously small hole he’d made. Aitmatov decided he was better off not knowing what that jacket was made of, and hoped to God it had been made from cowhides.

Blizzard landed lightly behind him and began to shake him. “Khan!” she yelled, tears in her eyes. “We have to go! We’re-”

But Khan didn’t listen, firing a two-round hyperburst, killing four PER ponies. “I’m gonna save my friend or die trying!”

“Or get turned into a newfoal, or killed trying?!” Blizzard asked angrily.

That gave Aitmatov pause, even as he picked out a new target. “I have to try!”

He set his eyes on a rocketeer, pulling the trigger as he zeroed in on him.

*click*

Aitmatov ejected the magazine and reached for a spare, only to grip at nothing, his eyes widening in horror as he realized he’d burned through his entire supply. He looked back to the rocketeer as he loaded another rocket and took aim at the destroyed BMP which held his possibly dying friend and his new fellow soldiers that were doing what they could to save Melnik's life.

It wouldn't protect them from another rocket attack.

There was no more time. There was no more ammo in the SVN2015. Just… his pistol? It was like everything had gone into slow motion, his body reacting before he could make a logical decision. 

The sniper rifle fell from his grasp as he went for his RSH-12 revolver, the world slowing to a crawl.

He had no choice but to use it. The RSH-12, so much like one of those big American handcannons, had a barrel in the 6 o’clock position, so he had to be careful…

He lined up the shot and squeezed the trigger.

The bullet flew out of the barrel, the force necessary to push the bullet out of the chamber belching out powdered explosive, the heavy revolver kicking back into Aitmatov's hands. The bullet sailed through the air, past the branches and trees, cutting a path through the leaves. Once it reached open air, it flew past the bodies of falling new foals and scores of other bullets racing through their own paths before finally reaching its target.

But it didn’t hit the other man.

What it did hit, however, was the rocket. Said rocket had barely began to burst from its operator's weapon before the bullet hit the tip and ignited the explosive payload. 

A one in a million chance shot. 

“Zdorovo,” Khan whispered. “That’s one for Zaitsev right there.”

Hyong-Jin opened his mouth to cry out a warning to Porter, Melnik, and Yon-Soo before the RPG exploded. 

“What the fuck?!” Sergei's jaw dropped as the rocketeer and the remaining HLF sans the Spetsnaz officer were killed in a fiery explosion. A new foal corpse slammed into the ground. He looked up to see Firebrand lashing out with his hooves against the last three new foals.  

Firebrand growled as a newfoal wrapped its forelegs around his neck, uncharacteristically snarling as it attempted to stop him. Firebrand jerked his back, slamming the back of his head into its snout, releasing himself from the hold. While he might have had the strength of an insane pony, the newfoal was no match for a pegasus trained to fly practically from birth, and Firebrand was going to exploit the hell out of that.

He snapped his wings open before kicking with his hindlegs, crushing the newfoal's ribs and heart and kicking off of him. He pulled his foreleg back, unloading a devastating uppercut on the second new foal floating above him, relishing the feeling of bones breaking underneath his hoof. He turned to see the last newfoal roaring in anger at his defiance of the Tyrant’s rule, only for her to jerk as bullets ripped through her body before falling. He looked down to see Yon-Soo smiling up at him and waving.

Firebrand waved back before a flash of red caught his eyes. He turned to see the HLF Spetsnaz officer running into the field, causing Firebrand to grit his teeth at the bullet wound on his shoulder. He snapped his wings shut as he dived to the ground to get some speed.

The group watched as Firebrand dove to the ground before his wings flared open, followed by speeding away from them. Sergei looked on with concern as he kept watch for anymore PER or HLF.

"Where is he going?"

"Getting our informer," Blizzard said as she landed next to them.

Firebrand skimmed over the ground, inches to spare as he zeroed in on his target. The Spetsnaz officer turned his body, pistol in hand, and fired off several shots at him, only to miss as Firebrand weaved through the bullets before he flew by him, lashing out and catching the human in the leg with a crack. The human howled in pain, screaming obscenities at Firebrand, practically spraying and praying with his pistol, but the pegasus wasn't making it easy for him. His wings beat powerfully as he flew faster and faster, in a tight red and orange circle.

Pistol rounds fired at the red blur as it spun around the officer, but was unable to hit anything as the flying pegasus began to pick up the pace.

Before the human knew it, he was in a magically made tornado, the winds heating up within by unknown means and began to lift him off the ground.

Firebrand flew out of the tornado, skidding across the ground as he landed, his eyes narrowing as the pony made tornado began to peter out and tossed the human, sending flying across the ground. A small part of himself wanted the human to die for what he and his group had done to his people, but orders were orders. He gave a tired sigh as he bolted forward and caught the falling human, only to receive an elbow to the jaw for his trouble.

"Son of a-" Firebrand growled as he threw the human away from himself.

The human realized his mistake far too late, as he barely had time to cover his face as he fell to the ground, with an audible crack.

Surprisingly, he was still alive.





The battlefield was littered with corpses, human and pony alike, with more than a few HLF men shot in the throes of ponification. The soil, blades of grass, all ran red and purple with blood and potion. Spent shell casings dotted the grass, and discarded weapons which were currently under inspection by Sergei and Hyong-Jin, was spread everywhere.

“That a PTRD?” Aitmatov asked, staring at a rather large sniper rifle, all metal and wood. “Gonna need one of those.”

“You already have a sniper rifle,” Blizzard pointed out.

“But it’s not 14.5mm, so it can’t take out tanks,” Aitmatov argued, hefting the anti-materiel rifle.

“...How… can you even lift that with one hand?” Melnik asked, clutching the stump of his arm. 

“Years of practice, Ivan,” Aitmatov said. “Tell you what. If you get on the battlefield, I’m giving this to you. You always wanted an antimateriel rifle.”

“How the hell can I get back out?!” Melnik asked. “Only one arm, remember? Can’t reload, can’t fire, can’t-”

“Equestrian magic,” Blizzard suggested. “You could have somepony cast a regrowing spell on it. It will take very long time because of how dangerous magic is to your human body. Or magical prosthetic. ”

“That… that sounds nice,” Melnik said. “So, where’s our informant?”

“Up there, getting stomped on by Firebrand if he so much as looks at him funny,” Blizzard explained.

“Poluchit' ot menya vy, blin, mutiroval zhivotnykh ! Ya sobirayus' sorvat' svoi kryl'ya i bit' tebya do smerti s nimi!” he yelled as he struggled to break free from the pegasus.

“...Solokow?!” Aitmatov asked, staring down at the Spetsnaz officer. “Damn. This is really beneath you.”

“You know him?” Blizzard asked, confused.

“Know him?” Aitmatov asked back. “We served together plenty of times, but he dropped off the radar right before the war. So this is what you were up to!”

“Aitmatov, you traitorous prick!” Solokow yelled. “Can’t you see what you’re doing?! You’re playing right into their hands, you horsefucker!”

"What the fuck have you been smoking? The PHL are here to help us!" Khan said through clenched teeth.

"Fuck them! They’re spies of the queen bitch! The fate of humanity depends on us, the Human Liberation Front, and we’ve had enough of those goddamn geldos’ ideas of ‘helping’ us! Once the barrier is down we’ll nuke the horses back to the stone age!"

“Tell me something, you goddamn jumped-up KKK member,” Porter said. “What the fuck have you accomplished? Have you saved civilians? Been in the presence of Lyra Heartstrings?! Of course not! You’re the poor deluded fucks that don’t know what story they’re in, and just keep on acting like they’re heroes. The scared, angry, vengeful children that torture ponies strapped to chairs.”

"Yeah well, they deserved it. We are going to have our revenge and we will kill every single last pony down to the last child."

“Right,” Hyong-Jin said. “And for that to happen, you need the barrier to collapse. So how the fuck are you going to do that?!”

"Don’t you realize you’re kinda not helping humanity’s case?" asked Firebrand.

Solokow simply growled in response.

"Not all us ponies are against you. Many good ponies are fighting on your side," Blizzard tried to say.

He simply growled in response again. 

Hyong-Jin tried again, appealing to the man’s anger by admitting his own pain. "Look, I can understand why you are so angry, but don’t let that anger consu--"

Solokow angrily interrupted, "You do not understand! You’ll never understand. I lost my family, my city, every goddamn thing I’ve ever loved to the pony’s so called ‘help’. And don’t get all preachy with your petty notions of morality. This is war! A war of no compromise. There is no room for pity nor mercy against the enemy. They aren’t human! So why should we treat them as such?" 

“That mindset is going to bite you in the ass later,” Melnik said. “What happens when two thirds of the world is gone, and maybe, just maybe…. if magic made the Barrier, maybe magic’s the only way to beat it."

"Damn, that’s pessimistic,” Solokow said. “You haven’t changed at all, have you Ivan? So, you are asking us to make friends with the very people that are out to destroy us?" 

"Seriously, are you stupid or something?! Not all us ponies want to destroy humanity! Get that into your thick skull!" Blizzard yelled.

"Well, it sure feels like most of you do..." he said quietly.

“No. We’re not,” Firebrand replied. “Don’t trust the Solar Empire, ‘cause we sure don’t. Just… trust the ponies that are actually willing to help, without using potions.”

“Trust me, Imperials are nowhere near smart enough for that,” Blizzard added. “It’s like somepony overwrote their brains. I think there’s some American and PHL neuroscientists working on it.”

"So, do ponies fighting on the human side have some sort of freaky human fetish or something?! Are we attractive to you?!"

"Seriously?" Porter stared at the Spetsnaz in utter confusion. "Are you just fishing for some reason to hate them?"

"No… I… What does it matter if some ponies like humans that way?!" Blizzard yelled, blushing slightly. Though nobody was entirely sure how they could tell she was blushing - they just had a general impression of a pinkening around the cheeks.

"Fucking freaks!" Solokow yelled.

“Alright, enough moralizing,” Yon-Soo said. “Now. We’re with the Russian military, and you’re doing far more harm than good. From what we can tell, most of the soldiers here were part of a special operation group, one that went missing a few months ago along with an attachment of PHL members. What happened-"

Yon-Soo's eyes widened as he felt himself being yanked back, finding himself staring at the utterly gobsmacked face of Porter. "What are you doing!?" Porter hissed under his breath.

Yon-Soo stared at him in confusion before realizing what he said. He turned to look at Blizzard and Firebrand who themselves were looking off in the distance. They both had such horrible looks on their faces, as if the world had been pulled out from under them, or they’d suddenly discovered they couldn’t walk on clouds.

"W-what? PHL attachment?" Blizzard uttered in shock.

Yon-Soo quickly realized what he'd just said. Any ponies or people those two would have known could have likely been killed. Or worse... 

“You evil son of a -” Blizzard growled before being interrupted by Solokow .

“Hah, calling me evil? You’re one to talk my fat dumb little horse,” he said mockingly. “I’m not the one mutilating children to turn them into mindless drones.”

Blizzard half raised a hoof to strike him, but she decided against it and lowered her hoof back down.

“You know, unless you give us good intel on the HLF base, I think we’re better off just ignoring you for the time being,” Firebrand groaned through gritted teeth. “One of us is  just going to do something stupid, anyway.”

“So now what do we do?” Hyong-Jin asked. “There’s probably many more and I think we all know he’s not going to talk. And to be honest, I'm uncomfortable with the thought of torturing the info out of him."

That didn't completely surprise Yon-Soo. While Hyong-Jin was certainly not merciful towards any enemies, even he was aware that torture was not a reliable way to get information. Plus, not to sound high and mighty, they were actual official soldiers and needed to be above that kind of thing.

“We could tickle him until he talks,“ Blizzard suggested.

For a long moment, no one said a word as they stared at her, even Solokow stared at her in confusion.

"W-well we can't hurt him," Blizzard stammered out as she explained her idea. "And well... tickling somepony always got what you needed. My dad always did it and..." 

Blizzard blushed as she looked away, Solokow snorted before giving a bark of laughter. 

"What a fucking stupid-"

"Let's try it." Yon-Soo interrupted.

"What?!"

"I mean, it’s better than dragging him all the way back to the airport and sending him back to Nizhny Novogorod and wait for a response." Yon-Soo’s face then flushed. "And it’s kind of true about being tickled."

“Eh, fair enough,” Aitmatov said. “Never liked torture. Goddamned pointless cruelty.”

"Dad?" Blizzard turned to Yon-Soo and asked with a cheeky smile.

"Mom actually. And my grandparents, and older cousins..." Yon-Soo answered bashfully face blushed brightly as he looked away from the group.

Porter tilted his head while grinning, a chuckle escaping his lips. "Why the fuck not? You two can go on ahead, I heard feathers can do wonders. Sergei, strip the jacket off."

Sergei shrugged before he roughly pulled Solokow’s jacket off to reveal his plain white short sleeved t-shirt.

“Do you seriously expect me to... Hahaahah!“ The two pegasi began tickling him under the armpits with the feathers of their wings. “Hahaahahahaha! Ahahaah haahahaha haahahah! Stop it! Ya nikogda ne budu govorit'!“

One hour later

"Part of me should call out that this is inhumane and forbidden," Yon-Soo muttered to Porter as the two tended to Melnik. The sounds of painful laughter echoed not too far from their spot. 

"I read that the tickle sensation is actually a form of pain." Porter adopted a thoughtful look as he said this. "I'm not sure where though."

"I got to admit, it is better than a pain-filled scream echoing out," Melnik grunted as Porter examined his stump. The pain of having heated metal pressed against the stump to cauterize the opening was unbearable, but it was something Melnik insisted upon when they realized the closest towns were either PER or HLF strongholds, so they couldn’t exactly go to the nearest hospital and ask for assistance. Aitmatov and Hyong-Jin were keeping watch, and so far, no one showed up. Still, didn't hurt to be prepared. 

Finally, as Yon-Soo wrapped a bandage around Melnik's arm, Sokolow yelled in between his uncontrollable laughter, "v poryadke, v poryadke! YA pogovoryu ! YA pogovoryu ! Please, just stop! I can't stand it, I'll tell you everything you want! Please, it tickles!"

Porter remarked, "I would say that's our cue to go in."

Sokolow was twitching, still laughing even after the two pegasi stopped tickling him. He was breathing heavily as he found his voice.

"Okay, the base is about thirty kilometers northwest of here. We hold ourselves up in an abandoned town."

"And how many are out there?" Yon-Soo asked him.

"About fifteen are there."

"You're not lying, right?" Porter asked,  glaring at Sokolow with a degree of suspicion. 

"Come on, would I?! After that?" Sokolow asked desperately, massaging his sides.

Porter turned to Yon-Soo, who nodded and said, "Alright. Let's get going."

Aitmatov then said, "A couple of us should stay here to keep watch on Melnik and make sure Sokolow doesn't try anything funny."

Hyong-Jin stepped in and declared, "I'll help you out on that."

Sergei, Firebrand and Blizzard nodded and walked up to Porter and Yon-Soo.

"Alright, let's get moving. We need to hurry," Yon-Soo noted as he looked to the setting sun. "The remaining HLF could probably be wondering where the rest of the group are right now and might come here. We need to stop them."

Porter agreed. "And there could even be prisoners with them, human and pony. We need to get there before anything happens to them."

"Well then, what are we waiting for? Let's go!" Blizzard barked.





"That motherfucking prick lied! Fuck my life!" Yon-Soo bemoaned angrily as he and Porter took refuge in an alleyway.

They went in thinking there were only about fifteen HLF members in the settlement, only to see there were a lot more. At least fifty from Firebrand's count. The dark and cloudy night sky wasn't helping in the slightest.

"Gee, you don't say," Porter grumbled. Gunshots rang through the air, several of the HLF members screaming and calling the group "horsefucking traitors" as they tried to kill Firebrand and Blizzard.

“They’re not going to stop yelling that, are they?!” Firebrand asked over the radio.

“I don’t think so,” Blizzard groaned.

The worst part about this especially was the fact that, unlike the newfoals, the people in the HLF actually possessed some self-preservation. They could hide, duck for cover, conserve their resources.

Yon-Soo had to admit, it was a lot easier to shoot at something that couldn’t really fight back so much as it just wanted to change you into one of them. On top of that, killing newfoals… It just didn’t quite make him feel that guilty, much as he hated to admit it. They charged on masse, sponging up so many bullets that their compatriots would trip over their mangled corpses, and considering what the potion did to a person’s mind, it almost came across as a mercy.

“Got these poloinik,” Sergei said, firing one of the spare PTRD rifles Aitmatov had found on the battlefield. He’d insisted that they keep them in the event that they ran into more shielded ponies.

“Isn’t that kind of overkill for antipersonnel work?” Blizzard asked, safely hidden in the clouds, wearing a pair of thermal goggles that Aitmatov had smuggled from somewhere.

“It certainly is, and I don’t give a fuck,” Sergei replied, and fired. “Bastards hurt Aitmatov’s friend, and they’ve done things that make that look like poking a puppy. If any humans on earth deserve a 14.5mm round to the gut, it’s them.”

“MOYA RUKA!” one HLF member screamed.

“Was that a miss?” Blizzard asked.

“Maybe. I’m not as good as Aitmatov or Melnik might be with this thing,” Sergei admitted. “But it’s a damn antivehicle round. Look at the soldiers behind him.”

Blizzard grimaced as she looked a little further. “Ow and yuck.”

“Poluchite, chto chlenosos snayperskoy vintovki!” shrieked one Russian woman, probably high-ranking. “YA khochu, chtoby loshad' chertovski!”

Yon-Soo tossed a grenade up which went over the alleyway, bouncing it off the wall of a building that had to be several decades old, and probably past several safety codes. There were screams from all directions. In the confusion, Yon-Soo fired off  three rounds from his battered old K2 rifle, the short burst practically decapitating one HLF member. He fired again, catching another in the leg, another in the head, before ducking into cover.

A 7.62 round grazed his shoulder, just as another rammed into his chest, his body armor taking the brunt of the blow.

“Geh shaangnom seki, that hurt!” Yon-Soo managed to gasped out, feeling as if he just got punched in the chest. “They’re closing in!”

“I got this one!” Blizzard yelled, and abruptly dropped out of cloud cover, what looked like a bottle of cheap beer in her mouth “Enjoy enlightenment!”

She threw the bottle down into the HLF, and swooped away, even as they turned their various rifles in her direction. 

“Ona ponifying nas!” one HLF member yelled. “protivogazy n-”

It said a lot about the inherent cruelty of the Ponification Potion that the contents of the bottle were actually an improvement over it. Specifically, it was full of rags soaked in gas from the BMP, and there was a small timed fuse attached, using a digital watch stolen from an HLF member.

The gas masks didn’t help, for the simple reason that gas masks can’t protect you from the terrible condition known simply as being on fucking fire.

The HLF screamed, flailing about and rolling on the ground, desperately trying to put out the blaze.

"Did you see the light?" Blizzard scathingly asked as she watched them burn. "I sure did."

“Go time?” Yon-Soo asked.

Porter nodded. “Go time.”

Porter kept low as he carefully, yet quickly crouched down while going behind any cover he could find even flimsy trashcans, as he made his way to the side of the building parallel to Yon-Soo. The two of them opened fire, rifles firing in short, controlled bursts at the few members who weren’t on fire or didn’t have firearms out. The loud, heavy metallic percussion of Porter’s 7.62mm AK12 practically drowned out Yon-Soo’s lighter 5.56mm K2 rifle, though the explosion as both of them fired off their grenade launchers into the group of HLF members drowned out even that.

Porter looked down the alleyway. “This doesn’t feel safe yet. Hug the walls, and keep quiet.”

“No, you’re clear,” Blizzard said. “Most of them are firing off into the clouds since you just killed an officer. Much as they actually have officers.”

“Got it,” Yon-Soo said. “Should we keep silent and get to the prisoners, or-”

“We have a bunch of HLF members that’re distracted. You know what they’ve done to prisoners,” Porter said. “Fuck ‘em.”

“Right. Let’s not get carried away, though,” Yon-Soo agreed. “Speaking of which, is that an LMG?” He pointed at a large black machinegun, one that looked like a bigger, meaner Kalashnikov with a belt feed. It was stuck in the hand of an HLF member, who had been charred by the molotov cocktail and pulped by the grenade.

“Yeah, it is,” Porter said. “PKM. I say we hose down the HLF.”

Speakers all over the town started blaring. “U nas yest' zloumyshlennikov ! PER, skoreye vsego . U nikh yest' neskol'ko pegas s nimi , tak chto sledite nebo! A vot soobshcheniye dlya tekh zloumyshlennikov - vy sukiny deti obrekayete chelovechestvo! My pytayemsya , chtoby spasti chelovechestvo , i vy .... U menya net slov dlya moyego otvrashcheniya so vsemi vami ! Ty pozor dlya chelovechestva!”  

Blizzard sighed. “Can we get whoever that was over the intercom?”

“Sure,” Porter said. “Those canned orders are just going to get more and more annoying.” He picked up the PKM, and stared down the sights, looking for a target. Finally he found one, an HLF member with an old AK-74. 

He fired.

The rounds exploded out the HLF member’s chest.

And with that, the HLF were essentially doomed. 

Porter ignored everything he’d ever heard about using LMGs in support roles, firing full auto in irregular bursts, cutting through any HLF members that entered his view, as Yon-Soo covered him. From the back, Sergei fired off that huge anti-tank rifle, punching through even the heaviest cover to kill HLF members.

“Kakogo cherta?!” the voice on the loudspeaker yelled. “Oni vsego lish' tri muzhchiny i dve chertovy karuseli, kruglyye igrushki ! Kak vy vse tak bespolezno?!”

There was a pause.

“Zat-knees, ee-dee na khu?! Oni ne ostanovit'?!” the voice on the loudspeaker yelled. “Nuzhno li mne povtoryat'sya?!”

A very heavy rifle round, presumably a 14.5mm from Sergei’s PTRD, punched through one loudspeaker. Sparks showered everywhere, as it dropped to the ground in shattered pieces. Someone screamed in pain as the antitank round utterly ignored their armor.

“Sorry, I thought you’d have gotten sick of listening to that bitch,” Sergei said, his voice crackling over their earpieces. “It’s pretty hard to find him. I think he’s down in one of the bunkers here. Or a basement. Either way, I can’t see him. Damn town is like a rat warren for them… Either of you guys have shotguns?”

“Yes, we have shotguns,” Yon-Soo said, sighing at the seemingly inane question.

“Well, you’re gonna want to keep em handy. It looks like there’s a lot of HLF scurrying around this town. They’ll probably jump out at you, because revenge usually lends itself to getting up close and personal.”

"Scratch that." Firebrand interrupted.  "I see a lot of movement heading to one area. Looks like a school."

"Damn." Porter growled in irritation.  "Schools are more or less to keep people out or in. Very defensible and lots of sniper position."

"Not counting the close quarters once we get inside." Sergei growled. "What we need is several teams, Porter. We can't do this on our own."

"We don't have time to wait!" Yon-Soo exclaimed. "What about the prisoners they are holding? They will kill them when they realize we might come back with back up."

"Porter?" Firebrand's voice drifted into the conversation, sounding distracted.

"What is it, Firebrand?" Porter asked as he raced down the alley towards the school.

"I see two guards on the second floor, they are guarding a pair of doors. Heavy chains wrapped around the handles and they are looking pretty antsy." Firebrand reported.

"I see them too." Blizzard replied, "You think they are holding them in there, Firebrand?"

"I don't see any other way in, no windows or other doors that could lead inside. Completely sealed." Firebrand's voice adopted a thoughtful tone.

"Probably the main supply closet for the school." Porter supplied as he lean against the wall, Yon-Soo by his side and his weapon raised and watching their back. "A good place if any to make into a makeshift prison. You have an idea?"

Yon-Soo then had an idea hit him. He didn’t think it’d be a popular one, but it was one he could throw out. "I do. You probably won't like it though."

"Hit me with it, can’t be any worse than the other plans."

“You’ll need to do that fire tornado, Firebrand" Yon-Soo answered. “Send it to the school and get them scrambling away.”

For a long moment, no one said anything before Porter answered, "You're right. I hate it." But then he added, "Do it."

"Are you serious?! I can't control it once I am out of the tornado, and they will shoot at it to get me,” Firebrand supplied, worry lacing his words.

"We don’t really have a choice. Either we do a suicide run or we could try to scare them off," Porter sighed as he leaned against the wall, weariness seeping into his stance. "We just have to hope they survive. Get it done, Firebrand."

"Yes sir," Firebrand replied quietly.





“Davay!” the 'lieutenant' shouted as he pointed his rifle out the window, rallying the others to him. “My dolzhny imet' preimushchestvo v tsifrakh ! Statistika te suki!!”

“Sledite na siney Pegasus ! Ona dostala neskol'ko muzhchin s Molotovym!” the loudspeaker blared out.

“Molotovy ?! PER ne ispol'zuyet Molotova!" 

"Yego , veroyatno, chto gruppa iz poni sukin ot Velikobritanii. Chto oni...” the HLF’s member’s tongue stumbled over the unfamiliar words. “...PHL?”

"Chertovy shpiony dlya ikh shlyukha lidera!"

“U nas bylo dostatochnoye kolichestvo proklyatykh geldos pytayutsya "pomoch',” growled another HLF member. 

"Tikho! Derzhite vashi glaza dlya nikh. Yego tol'ko tri soldaty i para goryachikh kryl'yev . My yedim khorosho segodnya , mal'chiki i devochki!" Cheers erupted with that. “Mozhet byt', my dazhe poluchit' nekotoryye novyye pal'to, tozhe!!”

Now, it’s not to say that the HLF weren’t a decently fearsome group. Any group of men and women with access to suitably large amounts of rugged Soviet hardware and armaments is reasonably threatening. But the one disadvantage they had was that most of them weren’t soldiers. Most of them were just angry. And anger was a poor substitute for training, outright destroying any prior knowledge or making you do downright stupid decisions.

Case in point, the HLF who had been searching for Porter, Yon-Soo, Sergei, Firebrand, and Blizzard had left themselves out in the open, confident that they’d be able to find their enemies.

They did not count on their enemies finding them. Or Porter opening fire on them with his PKM, firing in 8-round bursts that shredded through them, because that last sentence about using ponies for coats and meat had simply been too disgusting for him to remain stealthy.

“Von tam!” 

The few HLF members that Porter hadn’t killed or immobilized flattened themselves against walls, firing off their rifles, most of which were Kalashnikovs of one stripe or another.

Unfortunately for them, Porter had simply been a distraction. A heavily-armed, well-emplaced distraction with a belt-fed light machinegun, several grenades, and claymores scattered around his impromptu machine-gun nest, but a distraction nonetheless.

From the other end of the street, the opposite to Porter, Yon-Soo fired off his K2 semiautomatically, aiming for their upper bodies, or other lightly-armored areas. When the HLF were fortunate enough to have armor, anyway. He didn’t score headshots, at least not too often, but that wasn’t to say he was ineffective at all. The 5.56 rounds, which had become increasingly expensive and rarer to come by, punctured arteries and veins, shearing through muscle, and exploded out through throats and heads.

One HLF pulled out an RPK that looked like it had been to hell and back, and was about to subdue the two men before his head exploded, the 14.5mm round punching through his face. Several HLF members panicked at the sight of the headless body as it toppled over, death twitches running through its body. The weapon gripped in its hand involuntary pulling the trigger, spraying bullets down the hall. A young boy that was doing an ammo-run for the group ran out an open door and was riddled with bullets as he crossed into its field of fire.

"Damn! Good shot, Sergei!" Porter congratulated him.

"I was aiming for the guy next to him. Still, that’s one heavy gun out, so I’d call that a win anyway. And… that kid was carrying a lot of ammo. Tough luck kid, hope you are in a better place now instead of this hell hole. Those bastards are getting pretty trigger happy, their guns are practically eating it up. And...” there was a grunt of recognition from Sergei. “Hey. Some of these poor bastards have Borz pistols. Well, this qualifies as a mercy killing, then.” He fired again. “I would not trust one of those things for a suicide attempt.”

“What’s a Borz pistol, anyway?” Blizzard asked, swooping down with another molotov, dropping it into another alleyway.

“Cheap, ugly machine pistol,” Sergei said. “They don’t have sights, and they’re made of awful metal, usually - after awhile, the thing goes to shit, and it just spits out bullets. Sometimes unfired.”

"Doesn’t matter what they have, keep them busy for Firebrand to do his stuff!" Porter ordered as he ducked behind cover to reload. "Let’s hope these bastards start running for the hills."





Firebrand couldn’t remember the last time he had flown this fast. One innate part of pegasus physiology was that their own magic protected them from air friction; he was one of those rare pegasi whose ability created an odd effect - the faster he flew, the less air friction could harm him, but he could still affect particles close enough to him. He was grateful most of the HLF were lousy shots, and his friends were helping to keep them distracted from what he was doing.

He could feel the fire blazing around him, the center of the vortex sucking up air at speeds exceeding a hundred miles per hour. Heat built up as he focused on the task at hand. It took a lot of concentration to fly in such a pattern to create a tornado, to maintain the speed and keep the heat centered.

But he did it. In a blast of blistering heat and flame, he did it. For the first time in years, he created the fire tornado.

‘Alright, time to steer this beast just right…’ Firebrand thought to himself. ‘Luna help me, this will take a miracle.’





As Hyong-Jin examined and polished his rifle to check for any defects or scratches, something caught the corner of his eye. A slight flash of orange.

Melnik, who was massaging his still hurting stump, pointed over the distance with awe. “What the hell? You don’t think…?”

“No,” Aitmatov answered, “they’re not going down so easily. I know that much.”

The large column of fire was moving away, and Hyong-Jin scrambled to get out his binoculars. Melnik asked, “What do you see out there?”

“I don’t believe it… Guys, I think Firebrand just made that fire tornado he talked about before!” Hyong-Jin replied, nearly squealing with the excitement of a child. “He’s looking like he can control it too!”

“No!” Sokolow, who was now tied up, yelled. “You realize you’re killing my companions?!”

Aitmatov rolled his eyes at that and answered, “If you didn’t want your ‘companions’ to die, then you shouldn’t have secluded yourselves away in an abandoned town and killed every random pony you saw. Or maybe you could have just listened to what Lyra had to say about what her land had become. She had wonderful things to say, you know that?”

“Fuck you, Khan. You’ve always been a pretentious ass.”

“And which one of us turned himself into a self-styled defender of humanity, going behind everyone’s back and joining a militia of thieves, psychopaths, neo-Nazis, and people I wouldn’t trust in a penal army?” Khan asked. “I mean, I don’t… think I did that. Did I do that?” he looked over at Melnik, who shook his head. “And you call me pretentious,” Khan sighed. “On top of that, why the fuck would you think that working with neo-Nazis is a good idea? They’re a disgrace to our country! Do you even grasp the fucking hypocrisy?!”





“Alright guys!” Firebrand said over the radio. “I got this thing going and I’m about to steer it towards the school. I recommend you get out of the way.”

“Would you look at that…” Porter marveled. “Your idea was insane enough to work, Yon-Soo.”

“That’s good to know,” Yon-Soo noted with relief. “What do you suggest we do as he steers that thing?”

“Personally, I’d sit back and watch it burn,” Sergei announced.

It wasn’t a bad suggestion. The tornado shot little fireballs out that scorched and destroyed whatever they impacted with. HLF were screaming and running for cover as the tornado advanced upon the school building they had converted into a warehouse.

Aside from burning everything it touched, the funnel of fire also sucked in objects it touched, frying them to a crisp. Firebrand knew it was time to let it go free, and so in a quick flash, he flew straight up into the sky, letting the tornado go and do its thing.

He had to admit, he felt bad having to resort to this, but it was clear the HLF weren’t going to listen to reason. Not to mention they had gleefully killed ponies, plenty of good ponies that legitimately wanted to help humanity. And he himself would have been no exception.

The tornado advanced upon the school building sucking up and charring debris and HLF members in its wake. Any person unlucky enough to be in that thing’s way got picked up like a rag doll and then quickly burnt up worse than unattended bacon.

Porter and Yon-Soo watched on with wide eyes at the insanity, unable to believe the sheer power of this one pony’s unique ability. 

"Uh... is it just me or is it getting bigger?" Sergei asked nervously.

Porter and Yon-Soo stared with growing dread as an old abandoned car skidded across the pavement, its semi-flat tires squealing as it was dragged towards the flaming death, before being sucked up by the growing magical phenomena. The two men watched as the vehicle flew through the air before its gas tank exploded, pieces of it swirling through the tornado.

Yon-Soo and Porter watched as the tornado threw away the rest of the car, the flaming wreck flying over Porter's head and landing into the side of the building behind him.

“... Yeah, we’re going to need some way to get rid of that thing…” Porter said, his voice shaking slightly after that close call.

"Too late! Incoming!" Yon-Soo ran for his life, rushing inside the building for cover as another car was launched and crashed through the wall, nearly hitting him. Porter leaned out to see if Yon-Soo was alright, only to yelp in shock as red hot steel slammed into the wall beside him.

"Fall back!"

"Don't have to tell me twice!"

“Firebrand, how did it get so large!?” Sergei asked.

“I’m not completely sure, but it could be that some of the materials here could have added fuel to it!”

“It could also be because of the latent magic still floating around from all those PER and newfoal ponies from back there,” Blizzard suggested.

“Well whatever the cause is, we need to get that tornado under control, or it could kill all of us!” Yon-Soo sharply said.

Sergei watched as the tornado roared closer to the building, sucking up abandoned vehicles and used them as battering rams to slam into the school. HLF members screamed in terror as several of them were sucked up by the out of control tornado, even seeing flashes of flames racing down the halls and scorching the terrified humans.

"Got it covered guys, one small, super dense, winter cloud coming up." Blizzard said as she pushed a rather large cloud towards the tornado. The cloud was quickly swallowed by the spinning fiery vortex and Blizzard barely had a chance to pull away before she was sucked up as well. "The coldest winter cloud I could muster, I am talking about reaching almost zero degree cold here. It should be enough to destabilize it!"

Firebrand watched as his out-of-control whirlwind of fiery death sputtered out, the flames snuffing out due to the extreme cold temperature that was introduced into the atmosphere.

Steam practically exploded out of the tornado like geysers, shattering windows, slicing through the limbs of unfortunate HLF members, and slicing through trees.

“...Ah, what the hell? What’s more property damage, right?” Firebrand nervously chuckled out loud.

Another nearby car exploded. 

Then a truck. 

Then a fire hydrant ruptured, water spraying up into the remnants of the tornado, causing even more steam. 

Then another car exploded. 

From what Firebrand could tell, the tornado had left the streets in ruins, little more than large strips of rebar and gravel.

“...A lot more property damage?” Firebrand asked sheepishly, rubbing a hoof on the back of his head, a power pole groaning as it slowly fell over and smashed another vehicle flat.

“...I think we should quit while we’re ahead,” Sergei said.

“Agreed,” Yon-Soo said, unable to take his eyes off the tornado’s trail of destruction. “Let’s get to the school then.”

“Ya ne chuvstvuyu sobstvennuyu bol'!!” one HLF member yelled somewhere.





It was as if the school was mocking them. Warning them. Somehow aware that they were going to find something really terrible. There was a picture of a fox, possibly drawn by a particularly talented child, which had been pasted to the wall, and simply left there as everyone vacated the town.

It seemed to stare at them, watching them. While its eyes were probably intended to be welcoming and cartoonish, the expression wasn’t quite right. Instead of a surprised smile, it looked almost sly, as if it was waiting for something.

“Why do schools always feel so weird when they’re empty, anyway?” Yon-Soo asked.

“Well, they’re supposed to be filled with kids, I guess,” Porter replied, trying to talk casually to stave off any sense of paranoia he had that there could still be more stalking them in the shadows.

The tornado had been extremely destructive, carving a swathe of desolation through the town. Though the school hadn’t been too badly hit, several small sections had been broken and burnt in the carnage of the tornado. 

“Looks like this could be the library,” Yon-Soo noted. There was a pair of double doors, the handles kept together by some chains and a lock. Judging from that, there had to be something valuable in there.

“Huh, guess I was wrong. Alright, let’s open this up and see what’s inside,” said Porter as he aimed his pistol and shot the lock, destroying it. He undid the chains around the double doors and opened it up.

A horrible stench wafted out. Not just any horrible stench, though; it was a truly malodorous musk that nauseated Yon-Soo, his eyes watering from the pure disgustingness of the stench. Even Porter, an experienced soldier who had probably encountered this sort of thing in the past, was shaken, coughing and choking as he quickly pulled a handkerchief up over his nose and mouth. It reeked of death and filth in there, and the sights inside were no better.

There were several ponies in there, most of them clearly dead. They had been chained up to the wall, bleeding and broken from what was clearly weeks of torture being inflicted upon them. No words could describe how horrifyingly depraved those things had to be, judging from the condition of their bodies. In fact, to Yon-Soo’s horror, he realized that he couldn’t tell what kind of pony they’d ever been, or who they could have been. Their cutie marks had been stripped off, and there were massive gouges in their backs and on their skulls, likely ripped out horns and wings. It explained why some of those soldiers had necklaces and belts with what looked like severed horns and wings, Yon-Soo realized. They were so drenched in blood, missing so much fur, that he couldn’t even tell what color they had been.

He hoped to God that they hadn’t been alive while this happened.

The two that were still alive were huddled in a corner, clinging to each other for dear life. The older pony was a unicorn with turquoise colored fur, purple eyes, and a deep blue mane with a single stripe of light blue going through. She held to a younger one, a little pegasus filly with a pink coat, a short straight brown mane and matching purple eyes.

"Please don't kill us!" the unicorn mare cried out desperately. "We're not newfoals! We’re not with the Empire either!"

It was easy to see that they weren't newfoals.  For one thing, they were actually scared for their lives, and the unicorn had a cutie mark. The filly was obviously young enough to look like she just hadn't found her special talent yet, and her eyes were wide and horrified enough that she simply couldn’t be a newfoal - they rarely displayed that level of any emotion. Both of them clearly had seen better days, their coats dirty and patchy looking, as if someone had pulled chunks of it out. That was probably not the fullest extent of their injuries but they were still alive; plus the unicorn still had her horn and the pegasus filly's wings were still attached to her back, so Yon-Soo had to guess they hadn't been in the HLF's clutches for very long.

Firebrand decided to step out in front of Porter and Yon-Soo and said in a reassuring tone, “Hey don’t worry, these guys here are good! They’re not like the Human Liberation Front crazies; they’re here to rescue you.”

The mare was still shaking with fear, but seeing that there was a pony with the soldiers that didn’t look to be tortured or forced into anything he didn't want to do seemed to calm her enough. She stuttered out, “W-who a-are you?”

“My name’s Firebrand. I was a bodyguard for Ambassador Lyra Heartstrings for a while. And they’re Yon-Soo and Porter. There’s another one of us a ways back with a big sniper rifle - his name is Sergei. Don’t worry, miss, you’re safe with us.”

Porter lowered his rifle and slowly approached them, holding a hand out. He calmly but reassuringly said, "You don't have to worry about us, ma'am. We are with the military, officially at least, and have been sent to deal with the people that captured you. Are there more ponies kept around here?"

She swallowed a lump in her throat, shakingly replying, "To be honest, I don't think so. In fact, I'm pretty sure my daughter and I are the only survivors here."

The little filly still looked apprehensive, shaking like a leaf in her mother's hold. Yon-Soo also took his rifle off, laying it down on the floor. He reached out a hand and said, "Hey there, little one, don't be scared of us. We're the good guys. Why don't you and your mom come on out with us and leave this nasty smelly room?"

The filly's eyes narrowed as she replied in a gentle squeaky voice, "I'm not little. My name is Comet Tail.” She whimpered slightly, edging away from Yon-Soo’s hand.

Yon-Soo smiled and said, "I see. Okay Comet Tail, how about you come with us? We'll take you both to a nice hospital, where you will be safe and maybe even eat a nice meal. Our friends Blizzard Flurry and Firebrand can tell you all about it."

“Don’t worry, they’re good people,” Firebrand reaffirmed. “Not like any of these… what’s the word?”

“Petukh?” Sergei suggested over their earpieces.

On the other end of the radio, they could hear Khan bursting into what sounded for all the world like a poorly concealed coughing fit, then short wheezing laughter.

“Yes…. petukh. All they want is to help,” Firebrand continued. “Don’t worry. You’ll be safe with them - they can take you somewhere with people and ponies that’ll help.”

“I won’t lie - I’m scared,” the mare admitted. “Of all of you. But… much as I’m scared, no way I’m staying here. With murderers, torturers, people so… people so horrible that we don’t have words for them.”

Yon-Soo couldn’t blame her. As short as their time with the HLF presumably was, they were still no doubt going to have nightmares for weeks, have a hard time trusting anyone for a while. Nonetheless, he and Porter looked at each other, wordlessly agreeing they’d do whatever it took to help them and earn their trust. 

The mare then turned to Comet Tail and said, "How about it sweetheart? Don't you want to get out of this dingy room? They look nice at least."

Firebrand said, "They really are. They're actually some of the best friends I've ever had. You can trust all of us."

Comet Tail shrugged and said, "Okay then." She tried to walk, but it was clear her injuries kept her from being able to do much. Yon-Soo gingerly picked her up in his arms, while Firebrand took the mare, propping one of her forelegs up over his shoulders, helping her to walk alongside him.

"What's your name by the way?" the red pegasus asked the unicorn.

"My name is Aquamarine Glimmer," she replied.

Porter glanced back at them, careful to still stay alert as he walked. He asked, "So, how did you and your daughter end up in this situation?"

Aquamarine sighed, "It's really not something I would like to recount right now. Maybe once I get some rest and a good meal..."

Firebrand beamed, "Oh a good meal is more than guaranteed here! The humans have some of the oddest salad combinations, but they've all been delicious! And soda too, and khachapuri!"

She managed a small smile and replied, "I bet it will be good."

“It will be,” Porter said. “See, that’s this delicious cheese pastry…”

Meanwhile Yon-Soo just couldn't quite get over how Comet Tail was so small. Compared to an earth horse foal, she was miniscule. About the same weight as a medium sized dog probably.

"So," Comet Tail said to Yon-Soo, "if humans don't get cutie marks, how do you know what your special talent is?"

Yon-Soo thought about that for a moment before he answered,  "Well, usually we figure them out as we grow up. Some of us figure it out early, and others later on. And sometimes, we'll even learn new things we're good at."

"Have you been a soldier for a long time?"

"Eh, not really long. I actually was an actor before the war, but I learned how to be a good soldier thanks to Porter over there. He's been doing this for a very long time."

"Hey, come on," Porter called out, "I have done other stuff too!"

"Like what?" the filly and South Korean soldier asked in unison. Yon-Soo was especially curious; even after knowing Porter for about a year, he still hadn't seen Porter do much besides soldier duties. He hadn't really revealed too much about himself, though Yon-Soo did see the American soldier did seem to love fantasy novels.

"Well, for one thing, I was a pretty avid guitar player in high school," he answered in a rather fond nostalgic tone. "Haven't had much of a chance to brush up lately..."

Firebrand looked shocked as he looked at Porter, crying out, "What?! Dude, you really should get back into that! I love human rock music!"

"Well I might be rusty."

"So? You should try to get back into the spirit of that!"

Comet Tail giggled and looked up at Yon-Soo with a wide toothy smile on her face, remarking "Your friends are funny!"

'Oh dear God,' Yon-Soo thought to himself,this little pony is going to make me get diabetes...

It was pretty miraculous too that Comet Tail wasn't too badly traumatized by what undoubtedly were some bad experiences from her time with the HLF and possibly before, yet still maintain a pretty cheerful outlook in general. Still he noticed how she cringed at seeing dead bodies, the charred remains and scorched marks of Firebrand’s tornado.

“What happened out here?” Aquamarine asked. “We heard shots and screaming, but how did that fire happen?”

"Firebrand happened," Yon-Soo replied, causing Firebrand to look away with embarrassment. 

"Well it was-"

“Ubeyte ikh!" a voice echoed out from behind them. Porter only had time to turn around before the sounds of gunfire roared out. ‘Dammit, this is a stupid place to die!’ Porter thought, before…

Before…

He felt suspiciously not dead. A faint blue glow had materialized in front of him, before he felt himself being pulled into a classroom for cover. Porter watched as the shield flickered and died, allowing a stream of bullets to whizz past him through the empty hallway.

Aquamarine panted as she fell down, sweat dripping from her brow. She weakly muttered, “I should’ve known… that would’ve taken everything out of me.”

Porter breathed, “Still, you managed to save my life.”

“It was only fair,” she replied as she gave him a pained smile. She rubbed her horn with her hoof, and Yon-Soo couldn’t really blame her for being so drained.

"Vykhodi , gde by vy ni byli, vy suka..." a woman's voice echoed down the hall. Porter looked to Yon-Soo before sliding closer to the door. "Vash malen'kiy ogon' tryuk ne ubit' nas vsekh . YA bol'she, chem vam 5 - 1 . I yest' tol'ko tri iz vas s oruzhiyem i dlinnyy koridor mezhdu nami."

"Is that so?" Porter called out, a smirk on his face.

"Hmph. Americans. Why am I not surprised? Always thinking you are the heroes. Give up now... Or don't. I don't care. Be like every other stubborn and idiot American and come out blazing with your guns." The woman chided him in English, causing Porter to roll his eyes.

"Hm... Nah! How about you come over here and we can settle this face to face?" Porter called out, giving the group a small nod.

"Your funeral, boy. Go get them!"

"Light the barbecue boys! We’re going to eat their fucking ponies," shouted a HLF member with a deep voice. The sounds of whooping and hollering drew closer.

"Too bad you can't count for shit," Porter chuckled as he leaned out to see fifteen men and women running down the hall, only for something to come sailing through the shattered window and land in between them. 

 *Boom!*

Porter pulled back just as the hall exploded thanks to the M433 HEDP grenade, taking out the charging humans in a blast of fire and shrapnel.

"Good shot, Sergei," Porter coughed out as he raised his AK -12 and aimed it down the hall while kneeling, Yon-Soo’s own K2 over him, using his crouching form to stabilize his aim.

"Thank you for the M320. You been holding out on us," Sergei replied cheekily. 

"Eh, I like to keep back up just in case. Plus I know you would keep it and polish it until it shines." Porter felt Yon-Soo pat his head and both men slowly made their way down the devastated hall.

"You know me too well already. I see movement by the way."

The sound of painful wheezing caught their attention as they walked by the whimpering death cries and eviscerated corpses. Yon-Soo fought to keep his stomach from voiding everything it had as he saw several bodies belonging to children.

“My .... byli ... pytayutsya ... do ... spasti chelovechestvo” whispered one soldier, a teenager who looked like he should have been starting high school. “Vy… Shluha vokzal'naja...”

"Keep your eyes ahead," Porter whispered to him. 

"How do you get used to this?" Yon-Soo asked, swallowing acid reflux down as he looked away. He’d eagerly followed Porter’s advice, if only because he didn’t want to keep looking at them. There was… there… No, that just didn’t bear thinking on.

Porter paused before looking back to him. "You don't."

Yon-Soo sighed as he moved forward once more. They passed a mountain of a man, leaving a trail of blood as he crawled across the ground, he gave a painful moan before he stopped, breathing his last as he glared at Porter and Yon-Soo hatefully.  

"Wha....why?" Porter and Yon-Soo turned to see the same woman as she clutched her arm.

"Damn. Kind of hoping you were part of the charge," Porter grumbled as he walked up to her. She raised her arm with a Borz in hand, only for it to get kicked out of her grasp. "Because I am so loving of your personality."

"Fucking... Americans." She growled. "Always getting in... other people's business."

"FYI," Yon-Soo butted in. "I'm South Korean."

"Don't care. Go on and kill me," she spat at Porter as he began to search her for hidden weapons. "I will tell you nothing. I fight for humanity's future. What do you fight for?"

"I fight for the same, but unlike you, I’ve actually done things of worth. I’ve evacuated civilians. I’ve kept them safe, unlike you, who thinks it’s a good idea to throw untrained teenagers with rifles into the meat grinder. You’re in the wrong fucking story for that bullshit to be any kind of okay," Porter growled at her as he hefted her to her feet. "We’ll let the Russian military handle you and Solokow."

As they began leaving, Yon-Soo helped Aquamarine up while Sergei took Comet into his arms. He asked the turquoise unicorn, “How did you know how to cast a shield spell? Mostly from what I’ve heard, military fighters know those kinds of spells.”

Aquamarine grumbled, “Thank my daughter for being born a pegasus. When she was a baby, she would whizz past and above me with bursts of energy and would try to go places she shouldn’t have been. I had to teach myself for the most part. I had to get her off the fridge so many times… and most of them were before she could start using her wings.”

“Ah,” Yon-Soo nodded. “The energy of children…”





“Hey, you’re all alive! Thank God you’re all here!” Hyong-Jin beamed as he rushed towards them.

“Well, it wasn’t very easy, but we made it out, with a couple refugees and a prisoner too,” Yon-Soo replied, pointing out Porter, who had the woman slung over his shoulder. Firebrand was supporting Aquamarine while Sergei held Comet in his arms.

Hyong-Jin then rushed over to Firebrand like an excited kid, asking feverishly, “You did the fire tornado, didn’t you? We could see it from our position! I bet it looked awesome!”

Firebrand sheepishly admitted, “Well it worked a little too well actually; kinda got out of control but Blizzard managed to stop it. Can’t say it’s something I’ll use all the time, to be honest.”

Blizzard meanwhile rushed over to Aitmatov, whom she hugged with relief, and looked towards Melnik with concern. “Well, what do you suggest we do now?” she asked them.

“I’d say we go back to base,” Aitmatov answered. “We need to get Ivan over to a better hospital. If I’m correct, the base of operations in Yekaterinberg should be one of the closest from here.”

“What about us?” Comet asked. 

“Come with us,” Hyong-Jin suggested.

The two of them looked at him.

“What? There aren’t many other places you can go,” he pointed out. “We can connect you with some PHL members, get you somewhere safe… the PHL’s surprisingly popular with most governments, and I don’t think any that are HLF-aligned are going to last long. You can thank Colonel Renee and Ambassador Heartstrings for that. We even got to meet them, and even let Firebrand stay with us.”

“We were told… told she was a traitor,” Aquamarine recalled, shuddering. “A… a vile, soulless betrayer, or something like that. But, from what we’ve seen on this side of the barrier, the Queen’s one to talk.”

“It still feels better than back home,” Comet added.

Firebrand looked at her. “Even with...”

She nodded.

“Damn. I am glad I was kicked out when I was,” Firebrand said, shivering. “Urgh.”

“Let’s get going,” Melnik said, surprising everyone. “We have a long drive to the nearest settlement that isn’t full of psychopaths, and I have a stump that needs treating. Maybe also a new arm sometime.”

“You’re… sure that can work?” Aquamarine Glimmer asked. “I mean, I’ve heard about what magic could do, but-”

“The crap we’ve been through...” Porter sighed. “If magic was as harmful as the Tyrant would have us believe, we’d all be lumps of organic jelly just from you using that shield to protect me before. I think we’re allowed some leeway.”

“That, and I think that if we get too paranoid about it, we either end up as those goddamn zombies… or that over there,” Khan said, pointing at the smoking ruins of the HLF settlement off in the distance.

Neither option sounded pleasant.

“They have a train over there,” Comet Tail suggested. “Maybe we could-”

“Nah, the railroads in this part of Russia aren’t too reliable,” Melnik said. “Probably haven’t been maintained in… decades, I think. We’ll just take another truck and make our way to civilization.”





“From the basement of the house party, I crawl up three flights of stairs like half a zombie…”

It was forced levity, they were all incredibly drained from the day’s events, but the song on the stolen truck’s radio was incredibly catchy. And it seemed to be keeping Comet Tail happy, and even Aquamarine had joined in, wearing a tired expression that could quite possibly be considered a smile.

“First heard this one about 6 years ago,” Khan explained to the two of them. “They were pretty obscure, but then they made this great music video… and then another, so I bought all their albums, then watched that movie the frontman made. Thankfully, they were on tour, so the Barrier hasn’t gotten them...”

“I love human music, mommy,” Comet Tail sighed, a contented smile on her face. “A wasted skater, told me the name later… before this, to music I was a hater…” 

She was slightly off-key, and her voice was somewhat wobbly, but that just made it better somehow.

"Where to next after Yekaterinberg, Porter?" Yon-Soo asked as Porter drove the beaten truck down the road, his K2 in his grip as he kept a tired watched for threats from both PER or HLF.

Porter said nothing as he watched the road, his eyes trained on the distance for threats. The light glow coming from the east indicated the rising dawn of a new day. He turned to Yon-Soo with a small smile on his face as the sunshine filled the cab.

"To wherever they need us the most."

"I'll drink to that!" Melnik slurred as he downed another vodka bottle in attempt to drown out the pain in his arm. The truck bounced over a pothole, causing the bottle to flip out Melnik's hand and tumble out the side. “Sonovabitch! I better get a new arm soon… this is fucking unbearable!”

While Aquamarine covered Comet’s ears, shooting a glare at Melnik for using such language around her daughter, this caused a round of laughter from the sheer unlikely acrobatics the bottle had made, as Melnik mourned the loss before reaching for another bottle. “I… I should get one with a hidden knife. And recoil compensators, anna rotating fist… and punch through walls… an’ increased carrying capacity. Imma call it Musselback.” 

“...How do mechanical arms translate to increased carrying capacity?” Yon-soo asked. 

“And why musselback?” Comet Tail put in, before anyone else could add that same question.

“The devs never explained that one,” Melnik slurred. “Sides, I could… I could have a gun I’d hide ‘n it. Too close, an…. an bang.”

While he was so smashed that nobody was sure whether he’d just said ‘in’ or ‘on’, it was an interesting idea. Aitmatov, Blizzard, and Firebrand all chuckled together as Melnik toppled over, landing on Solokow and the HLF woman, causing them to sputter in outrage of having the drunk ontop of them.

Porter gave a grin as he watched the group interact with one another from the rearview mirror, lightly patting Yon-Soo shoulder as they made their down the road, the morning sun revealing the beautiful countryside. 

'We will win...' Yon-Soo thought to himself as he looked at the countryside before looking to Comet as she gave a tired yawn before falling asleep. 'We took down a group four times our size. But we did it working together. Both humans and ponies.’ 

That had to count as a win - without Blizzard, Aitmatov wouldn’t have been able to snipe so many HLF from a distance. Without Firebrand, they would have probably been killed taking over the town. Without Aquamarine Glimmer, he and Porter would have been riddled with 5.45mm and 7.62mm rounds. And without all of them, Aquamarine Glimmer and Comet Tail would have been dead. Or worse. On top of that, they had practically stuffed the truck with guns. Khan had been rather excited to find a couple assault rifles, and at least two guns he claimed were sniper rifles that looked more like assault rifles.

Yon-Soo smiled as he leaned back in his seat, the truck giving a roar of its engine as it drove off into the distance to its destination. The clear blue sky high above with a bright sun, clear of overcasting clouds and bitter cold winds. A nice little moment of clarity.

It was not a perfect day, but it sure was an improvement over everything that had come before.

He sighed, letting the tension in his system go, closed his eyes, and took a well-earned and deserved rest.

> Don't You Worry Child
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 8: Don’t You Worry, Child

Editors/Co-Authors
Redskin 122004
Doctor Fluffy
Rush



“You can wipe out an entire generation, you can burn their homes to the ground and somehow they'll still find their way back. But if you destroy their history, you destroy their achievements and it's as if they never existed. That's what Hitler wants and that's exactly what we are fighting for.”
- Frank Stokes, The Monuments Men

“It’s not the end of the world, but you can see it from here.”
-Eliza Cassan, Deus Ex: Human Revolution

Now that had been a long drive. 

When he had been a celebrity, Yon-Soo had seen many different places, flying and driving through forests, fields, and mountains, but he hadn’t been prepared for quite the level of emptiness that he’d found in Russia. It had been mile after mile of nothing, through seemingly endless forests, through towns that had been abandoned in a hurry, past men and women struggling into overstuffed cars and trucks, desperately trying to outrun the inevitable. A great many people, though, seemed to be forcing themselves to live normal lives as the Barrier inched across the Earth.

They’d found a plane at a small-town airport, which took them to a larger one. After a complicated series of deals, this lead to them setting them down at Yekaterinburg. The pilot had been skeptical about how long he’d be able to keep flying. He’d heard bad things at the airport, about pilots being harassed by pegasi midair, or just leaving and simply never coming back.

Melnik had spent the journey bitter, drunk, and angry over the loss of his arm, though hopeful he could get back into the fight soon, some way or another.

Porter wasn’t really paying attention when, as he tried to find a station on the radio, the dullness of the trip all but taking the steam out of him.

“...The Economy of the Barrier,” read a voice over the radio as he finally found a station that wasn’t nothing but static. “Far too long have we seen it. As the Barrier inches towards cities, eating our lives, our histories, our souls, humans flock to the settlements over the horizon. Always running. Always moving. The settlements swell - cars, abandoned buildings, the unused spaces of a city, all become apartments and shops, run by desperate people who do not have or soon will not have a country. Guns are traded for defense, the new refugees buy up all that they can. Then, in the span of a day, perhaps even a week, it vanishes. They have all moved on somewhere else, driving other cities and towns to unprecedented heights before they are wiped off the face of the Earth. When shall it end? Will we reach  a dead end on the coast or the Pacific, reduced to claiming we once owned this world, while the Empire smugly erases us, claiming that there's no evidence we were ever here, so we have no right? My friends... We are in need of a miracle. But if we don't get one, I don't care if you leave the light on. Won't matter much anyway.”

"Turn that crap off," Melnik mumbled. "It’s bad enough we have these two with us, this just makes the trip worse."

Porter switched the channel, luckily finding another radio station as soothing orchestra music started to play, right when they got to the edge of town.

“No more Biting Elbows?” Aitmatov sighed.

“Dammit!” Blizzard agreed.

“Well, don’t worry, we’re finally coming in on civilization,” Sergei pointed out.

Not too far off in the horizon was their destination. The city of Yekaterinberg.

“Ah, Yekaterinberg…” Sergei marveled. “Haven’t been here in a long time.”

“Didn’t you say this was your hometown?” Melnik asked him.

“Indeed it is!” Sergei answered with a smile. “Beautiful place, isn’t it?”

He was right, Yon-Soo had to admit. Yekaterinberg was a beautiful city. Between historic landmarks and the metropolitan sprawl, there was a giant river running through the city, a clear life blood to the first inhabitants of this region. It wasn’t quite as congested with refugees as Nizhny Novogorod had been, but it was clear the war hadn’t been kind to it. Military personnel were at every corner, patrolling the area; there were even soldiers at the tops of taller buildings with anti-aircraft guns to watch out for enemy pegasi.

“What’s the plan of action now?” Hyong-Jin asked.

“Simple - we drop those two off to the authorities,” Porter said, pointing to Sokolow and the woman in the back, “and then we drop Melnik, Aquamarine and Comet off to the hospital.”

“Sounds good,” Aquamarine admitted. Adequate rest and getting to eat some rations had helped her and Comet feel somewhat better. She could walk on her own without support at least.

Police officers were very easy to find in this place. As they patrolled most street corners alongside the official military, directing traffic and generally keeping order in the city, they gave a nod to the group of soldiers, a few running up to them to help out.

“Those mercenaries?” a cop asked in Russian.

“Yes, fresh off the Human Liberation Front,” Aitmatov answered as Porter and Sergei handed Sokolow and the woman off to the authorities.

“Alright, that’s good news for us,” said the police officer. “The less of those bastards around, the better and easier things will be for those of us just trying to live.”

“I take it you’ve had problems with them before?” Yon-soo asked, curious.

He sighed. “I have. There’s been anti-pony graffiti everywhere, especially where some refugee ponies live. Stores broken into, looting… And a riot’s only a matter of time. Idiots. You know why?”

They all looked at him. Clearly, he was expecting to answer his own question.

“First, there’s enough of the world left that they’re nowhere near right,” he said. “Second? Damn near none of what they’ve done has helped the people of this city. Killed ponies, yes… but that doesn’t help anyone.”

The radio nearby crackled.

“Goddamn children,” he muttered. “Thinking they can just go nuts, the world’s not over yet…” he picked it up. “Hello? Semyonovich? No, sorry. I can’t come. I have to transport some HLF to the station. With luck, they’ll reveal something important.”

Another crackle.

“Agreed.” he set it down. “You guys take care of yourselves. It’s getting a lot worse out there.”

The soldiers grimly nodded and went off with a goodbye and good luck to each other, and set off to the nearest major hospital.




“You weren’t kidding at all; these are delicious!” Aquamarine beamed as she picked up another cheese pastry. She and Comet had both been famished since their rescue from the HLF compound and the way they were inhaling their meals was evidence of that.

“Way better than grass and leaves!” Comet added as she ate some blini filled with fruit jam.

Yon-Soo smiled, glad that they were doing very well after everything they’d gone through. They weren’t too seriously hurt, which was good news too. It seemed like they had regained some glow to them thanks to the rest, treatment and food they were getting.

Porter was glad too, seeing some good things in the midst of the darkness of the war. Every brutal thing he and his fellow soldiers were going through, for a moment, were forgotten as these two innocent civilians they rescued from a horrible fate recovered their health. Still, there were a lot of things about those two that he and his friends didn’t know.

"So, if you don’t mind us asking, how did you two get to Earth?" Yon-Soo asked.

Aquamarine abruptly stopped chewing her food, the look on her face stoic and uncomfortable. Comet became fidgety, her lips pursing into a thin line. Yon-Soo quickly said, “Oh crap, I’m sorry! I shouldn't have asked that so suddenly!”

“No,” Aquamarine cut in, “I suppose now is as good a time as any to tell you mine and my daughter’s story.”

Blizzard frowned and asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. It actually goes back to the war with Sombra. You see,” Aquamarine began, “my husband, Gale, was in the pegasus division of the Royal Guards. Hence, why Comet is a pegasus. Anyway, he went to the Crystal Empire to fight alongside his fellow soldiers. Oh, how naive I was to think that the worst was behind us when he came back home!”

Porter noted, “And that was about the same time Equestria came to Earth, right?”

“Yep,” Comet answered. “When Daddy came back home, he seemed… different somehow. Like the… fun and happiness was taken out of him. Or at least, there was just something missing. And coming to Earth was another layer of weird.”

“It happens to anyone returning home after a war,” Aitmatov noted, as Porter, Sergei and Melnik all nodded in agreement. “PTSD. You ponies never really had to deal with that kind of thing for much of your history, right?”

“Not really,” Blizzard admitted. “Our research on war and psychology is very far behind yours. A few months ago, Khan did take me to a university library to read some books on that stuff because I was wondering what happened to my cousin.”

“And not a damn thing could explain what happened to him,” Aitmatov added. “I know PTSD. Or shellshock or whatever, and there’s a lot of things it just doesn’t cover here.”

“Exactly!” Blizzard continued. “But the war with Sombra… no pony really knows how it happened.”

Firebrand added, “I personally always thought it was kinda fishy that the Elements of Harmony failed to stop him.”

“Indeed,” Aquamarine nodded before she continued. “But anyway, I had hoped life would go back to normal with Gale back home and the war over. I just thought the way he was acting distant around me and Comet was just him carrying some baggage from the war. He did have a few bad dreams here and there too.”

“What kinds of bad dreams?” Firebrand asked.

“He never said,” Aquamarine answered. “He’d just wake up screaming and crying, or breathing heavily, his eyes darting around the room. And during the morning he’d jump at shadows, and his eyes would be kind of glazed.”

The other soldiers could understand that well.

“When we were allowed to explore Earth, I actually did arrange a family vacation to go to Italy to get our minds off what was happening. I thought he’d like to relax…”

“Italy was very fun!” Comet beamed. “I loved going to Venice especially! And the vegetable dishes were delicious too! It is amazing what you can do with pasta and mushrooms...”

Aquamarine had a sad little smile on her face, nodding with her daughter as she said, “I had a lot of fun too, especially looking at the art and history of the country. It’s a real tragedy that the country got wiped off the map thanks to that barrier. I really just don’t even understand it… and honestly, I don’t think I really want to.”

Everyone hung their heads, knowing all too well what she meant. She said the word barrier with a special venomous anger that was shocking to hear out of a normally gentle mannered pony, but she had every right to be embittered.

“But Daddy just kept acting weird through the whole vacation,” Comet recounted. “He never really liked looking at anything made by humans. Not even the art! Or the cool inventions! And he always seemed to act kinda mean to the humans too.”

Aquamarine growled, “Let me tell you, it was often embarrassing to see. He would shoot judgmental looks at humans that ate meat, and acted like even the big city was like a slum. And it only got worse when the newfoals began coming into Equestria. There were so many of them too, and Gale welcomed them completely like they were his own children. But they just didn’t sit right with me.”

Both Blizzard and Firebrand shivered, the looks on their faces making them seem as if they both came down with a severe case of food poisoning.

“I know what you mean,” Blizzard admitted, a dark scowl forming on her features. “Every other pony saying we’re helping the humans by giving them a potion that transforms them into mindless zombies that just smile constantly and have no hopes and dreams, and act like Equestria is a perfect little paradise where nothing bad ever happens.”

Firebrand rather exuberantly added, “And don’t forget those weirdos at the PETN either! They act like being a newfoal is totally normal, even though they’re basically wind-up toys with limp noodles for brains!”

“PETN?” Hyong-Jin asked.

“Ponies for the Ethical Treatment of Newfoals,” Aquamarine answered. “They say they’re an activist group that tries to make other ponies treat newfoals well. I suppose they mean well, but then again, they never even seem to realize that maybe there’s something wrong with the potion itself. So close… and yet so far,” she sighed.

Comet was equally unnerved as she said, “I met a few newfoal kids at my old school a few weeks before Mommy and I escaped Equestria. They were just so… creepy and weird! And they always smile! And it’s like their faces are stuck that way. One time, I was playing with my friends and I accidentally kicked a ball at a newfoal's face, and he didn’t even get mad or tell me to watch where I was kicking. He just said sorry for being in the way! He just kept smiling, even though I think it gave him a black eye.”

Aquamarine became even more agitated as she went on, saying, “What happened next was… I don’t know if it was coincidence or luck, but about a day before Celestia was going to that press conference to address the barrier’s expansion, I told Gale that the newfoals didn’t sit right with me, but he just told me I was being paranoid. But I couldn’t let it go. I tried to make him listen, and brought up his attitude during our Italy vacation, and he began to…”

Tears began to spring from her eyes and she sobbed, Comet joining along. This drew some attention from a few doctors outside the hospital room, but a quick look from both Aitmatov and Porter told them not to meddle and the situation was under control… for now at least.

Aquamarine choked out, “He began screaming at me, asking me if I was questioning Queen Celestia’s wisdom, if I was turning into a meat-eating talking ape, and other horrible things. And then, he just jumped from that to accusing me of cheating on him with a human! I kept telling him no to all of those, but he wouldn’t listen to reason! He threatened to divorce me and take Comet away. It was just terrifying! He was…. he was like a completely different pony, just screaming, ranting, and raving. He was… I don’t know if he would have hurt me, but it wouldn’t have surprised me.”

“Oh my goodness, that’s horrible!” Blizzard gasped, taking Aquamarine’s hoof into hers. “What did you do?”

Aquamarine replied, “It was a spur of the moment, but I couldn’t help it… I shot a sleeping spell at him, stuffed a couple bags with as much as I could before the spell wore off, took Comet out of school early and got out of Canterlot. We didn’t take trains or public transportation. That’s the first thing Gale would have looked at. I just didn’t feel safe in Equestria anymore, and when I saw what Celestia did to those reporters at the press conference, I was completely horrified! I wondered, just what was happening to Equestria? And why was Celestia doing such a terrible thing? I didn’t want my daughter to grow up in an Equestria like that! So we escaped with a few other ponies that didn’t agree with Celestia and went to earth.”

Aquamarine sighed as she looked at the group. "It wasn’t much better. We tried looking for friendly groups, but we just kept getting chased by the angry humans. I couldn’t be mad at them either because of what Celestia did to your people. We just lived out in the wilds, eating what we could and getting fresh water or supplies whenever possible."

“And then you found yourselves in the clutches of the HLF?” Porter said.

“Well, we had only been with them for a few days. But between escaping Equestria and getting rescued by you, it hadn’t been easy. We were scared, paranoid and stuck in the wilderness. We had to graze to try surviving, and the unpredictable weather didn’t help. But those weren’t the worst we had to face.”

“HLF crazies?” Firebrand asked.

“Not just them,” Aquamarine replied. “There were also newfoals and those ‘Ponification for Earth’s Rebirth’ people. They actually managed to nab one of the ponies in our group and a few newfoals were able to drag her back to Equestria to bring her to something called a mind healer; they said they would cleanse her of humanity’s corrupting influence, or some such garbage like that. That poor mare; she was screaming and kicking and crying the whole way...”

Hyong-Jin flinched, which wasn’t lost to Yon-Soo; it was common knowledge what the old North Korean regime did to any defectors. And the Solar Empire wasn’t being any kinder towards its defectors. Though information from the other side was still a bit sparse, it was clear that Equestria was far from the paradise it liked to paint itself up as. More and more defectors came forward with stories of spies watching over the citizens to make sure there were no human collaborators in their midst, as well as harsh prison sentences for anyone suspected of being in cahoots with the PHL or any other ‘betrayers’. One pony member of the PHL talked about being sent to a work camp where he had been forced to mine for crystals all day everyday because he expressed a dislike for the newfoals; he barely managed to escape from that gulag with his life and body intact. Other refugees had told terrible stories of “therapies” to “cure them of human taint,” which reduced disaffected ponies to little more than newfoals with cutie marks, who would protest that they were fine. Even though they clearly weren’t.

“In other words, they were going to reeducate her for her insubordinance,” Porter snarled.

“That wouldn’t surprise me, anyone not on board with ponification is getting brainwashed by Queen Celestia,” admitted Firebrand. “The way the guards are going around doing all this with smiles on their faces…”

Blizzard added, “Or the fact that Celestia’s even doing this at all. Normally, she always strove for peaceful relations with all of the other nations and races on Equus. But it’s like she takes one look at humans and instantly says they’re unworthy of existing without even trying to understand them. I know most of you won’t believe us, and if this war goes on… I won’t believe me either,” she sighed. “But this is so completely unexpected that it might as well be another pony doing it.”

“Brainwashing could explain why Daddy was acting weird too,” Comet said angrily. “My Daddy was an awesome and loving stallion, and then he just turned all…  all… mean and cold to me and Mommy.”

“Oh, Aquamarine, Comet! I’m so sorry to hear what happened to you two!” Blizzard said to them, barely holding back her rage, sadness, and a torrent of other emotions. She really didn’t know what else to say to them. Everyone else was just as saddened to hear this. Yon-Soo knew this war would have inevitably torn many families apart, and to see it in person, how it affected the people on an individual level, was truly heartbreaking.

"This whole war doesn't make any sense at all!" Aquamarine growled angrily, stomping a hoof onto the table. "I just want my family back! I want our lives back! And I want those newfoals gone too! I wish things could be normal again."

"Trust us, we all do,"  Yon-Soo replied sullenly.

"Amen to that," Porter grumbled.

Suddenly, Aquamarine declared in a determined tone, "I want you to teach me how to fight. I can't just sit on the sidelines and do nothing. Equestria, and Queen Celestia, took everything from me and Comet, and I want to make them pay! They can't get away with this! Please, will you help me?"

Hyong-Jin looked to the others and said, “I don’t think that’s a bad idea. We need all the help we can get.”

Porter noted, “She did save my life with that shield spell of hers earlier. We need some magical backup anyway. We can only get so far on our tech alone.”

“Me too!” Comet called out, standing up with determination. “I want to help too! You guys saved me an’ Mommy, so I want to help you too!”

“Comet!” Aquamarine gasped, “You cannot seriously be thinking about fighting! You’re still a filly, and you still haven’t found your special talent yet either!”

“So? Equestria, and Celestia, took Daddy away from me too! And my friends too! Plus it’s taking away the humans’ home and stuff from them! And I don’t like the newfoals either; I want them gone just as much as you do, Mommy!”

Aquamarine tried to protest, but Comet cut her off, saying, “If you’re going to fight, then I want to be with you and help! Where would I go anyway? I know they’ll be there to help and protect us, and we’ll do the same!”

“She does bring up a good point,” Blizzard admitted forlornly. “There’s been a lot of orphans left behind due to this war, pony and human alike. They have nowhere to go, and they’re both equally vulnerable to the empire’s campaign. The pony foals will be dragged back to Equestria and Luna only knows what kind of fate awaits them.”

“I would rather not think about that, thank you very much,” Aitmatov shuddered.

“And human children are a favorite target for the PER. It might actually be better that Comet at least accompany us and help out in some way,” Blizzard continued.

“See! I can help!” Comet added.

“Kid…” Melnik sighed. “I’ve seen child soldiers before. Lord knows there’s going to be a lot of them in this war. I don’t like it, but Blizzard’s right about Equestria and the PER.”

"I want to say that we can leave her with the PHL; Miss Cheerilee will want to take her in. She does that with every child, pony and human," Firebrand added, recounting his brief meeting with her. "She’ll do anything to protect them too - she managed to fight off hordes of newfoals in a school in Paris and she was near death when we found her, but she protected an entire classroom full of children all on her own. She seems like a good choice."

"NO!" Comet yelled, her eyes brimming with tears. “I don’t want to go anywhere else! I’ve already lost Daddy, and we don’t even know if he’s still alive or not! I don’t want to lose you too, Mommy!”

Everyone grimaced as Comet began to wail out loud. "When we were hiding from the HLF and PER, we sometimes saw a bunch of dead newfoals. I saw Royal Guards with them when we walked around the battlefields. Any one of them can be my Daddy! My Daddy could be dead, killed because he was trying to ponify people! And it would be Celestia’s fault that he died!"

Aquamarine reached over and hugged her daughter as she broke down, crying into her mother's chest as she blubbered out that she wished her father could come back to them. 

To be a family again. 

Yon-Soo looked away from the mother and daughter, thinking of his own family. He swallowed as he thought what they would be doing right now. He could easily see his mother praying for his safety every day, and his father checking and rechecking the news every other minute, trying to stay updated on the latest bits of information on the war.

His aunts, uncles and cousins, and all of his friends from back home, all spending sleepless nights wondering if he was okay as they made their own contributions to the war effort.

His grandparents would be sitting outside their house, far away from the city and watching the stars. He could see his grandmother hum an old folk song softly and holding a picture of Yon-Soo and his cousins when they were little, while his grandfather was carrying his old Smith & Wesson close by as he listened to her hum. Hal-abouji was ready to defend Hal-meoni with his life, just as he did during the Korean War.

This wasn’t an easy choice, and he didn’t like it, but he had to admit, there really were no other options.

"If we try to send Comet away, she will try to fly her way back to us," Yon-Soo said quietly, Porter nodding in solemn agreement. 

"He's right. As much as I hate to admit, it’s better that we keep her with us. I also heard reports of child soldiers being used." Hyong-Jin opened his mouth to retort that they just spent several months training said children until Porter finished, "On the front line, not back in the safe zones."

They fell silent at that. The only sound made was by Comet, sniffing softly as she hugged her mother. Firebrand stared at her for a long moment before speaking.

“I can teach her Neighponese fighting techniques. How to fly and fight at the same time,” Firebrand proposed.

“I can help her too,” added Blizzard. “How good is she at flying?”

Aquamarine stammered, "Pretty well for her age."

“We can work with that,” Blizzard nodded. “But it won’t be easy. Fighting will take a lot out of you. And going out in an actual battle is incredibly dangerous. Even these guys, highly trained soldiers with battlefield experience, will tell you that it never truly gets easier no matter how long you’ve been doing it. Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” Comet answered with determination, sniffing back her tears. “I don’t care how hard it is, I’ll do whatever it takes!”

Aquamarine nodded and said, “I’m on board too. I can’t just sit idly by when all this is happening. I promise to give everything I have.”

Blizzard tried to smile with encouragement, even though she was still apprehensive. “Alright, as soon as we can, we’ll help you start. But like I said, it’s not going to be easy. They put stallions and mares through this regimen, and some of them drop out.”

“Don’t worry, though,” Aitmatov added. “She won’t do anything evil. Destroying the mind and body of a cadet fell out of favor years ago.” He leaned over to Firebrand. “They… they don’t do that in Equestria, right?”

“Well, no, but now that the most psychotic seem get higher positions…” Firebrand said thoughtfully.

“Goddammit, she’s just having pegasi piss on everyone and calling it rain,” Aitmatov sighed. “It’s like she’s trying to make us hate her.”

“And yet she passes herself off as some kind of righteous savior,” Hyong-Jin bitterly added.

Just then, Porter’s phone rang. He picked it up immediately.

“Apparently we’re required at the nearest military base,” he sighed, as soon as he was done. “Debriefing.”





The Russian military had taken over the old Volga-Urals Military District Headquarters, sprawling out of its rooms into other nearby buildings, commandeering every room (except the bathrooms, for obvious reasons) for coordinating the military effort.

Which was why Porter, Yon-Soo, Sergei, Hyong-Jin, Aquamarine, and Comet Tail found themselves answering questions in a dusty old attic, standing before an old ex-Soviet colonel named Demichev, who was using an ancient beaten up desk. Aitmatov and Blizzard had left for the hospital after lunch, both guarding it from newfoals and seeing their friend through the loss of his arm.

“And you say they had military hardware?” Demichev asked for the third time.

“Yes,” Porter said. “It’s not exactly hard to find. RPGs, rifles…”

“No, I’m not worried about those,” Demichev said dismissively. “Those are easy enough to get. No, your friend Aitmatov claimed that they had guns we simply don’t throw to the public. Several AN94s, one of which he is giving to his friend Melnik, a VSS Vintorez. A damn BMP, even. I don’t like it.”

“What, specifically?” Sergei asked.

“How did they get them?” Demichev asked simply. “We have Spetsnaz in the wilderness, training others to fight, but that’s not the only thing that worries me. There were…” he pushed his glasses back up his nose, “some people in our government who did not approve of Ambassador Heartstrings’ visit. It was a damn miracle she didn’t face any assassination attempts when she came to St. Petersburg. It feels as if that mare walks between life and death somehow, attempts that should have killed her and she walks away without a scratch.  Rumors are spreading about her, and it is causing the HLF to target her even more fiercely.  Anyway - there are those who believe we should have thrown in our lot with the HLF instead of, and I quote, ‘Throwing ourselves to the goddamn merry-go-round toys.’ Their position, of course, would do more harm than good.”

“...Please tell me these people in your government know what the HLF are like now,” Hyong-Jin sighed. 

“They do,” Demichev said. “And that’s the problem. I’m convinced that they’d be willing to turn parts of Russia into their own personal fiefdoms under the pretense of security. And they’re funneling the arms - or just so happening to forget them - to the HLF.”

Yon-Soo then said, “Wait, I read something about this! Wasn’t there some American senator that recently got arrested for personally funding an HLF compound?”

“Yes,” Demichev said. “Senator Patrick Goleman.” The venom in his voice was clear, sending a chill up their spines.

“How the hell did he get elected?” Porter muttered.

“It’s a good question, really,” the Colonel said. “Anyway. I’m assuming that most of you don’t know this story.”

The looks on their faces told him more than they ever could.

“Right. He sunk every penny he had into building a compound for the HLF. Appealed to every survivalist, gun nut, apocalypse prepper, and zombie apocalypse fan he could, brought them all to the camp. He’d bought a large area of land somewhere in Alaska and they built a small community. Armed themselves to the teeth, and lined the walls with cannons and miniguns while he railed against newfoals. I think he lost his mind out there.”

“...What happened to him?” Aquamarine asked.

“He was arrested, but somehow, half the compound’s members managed to get out. They’re still in the American HLF, serving as leaders and consultants,” Demichev replied. “At this point, anyone with a lick of sense in them would just want to stuff cyanide into both the HLF and PER’s food to make them just shut up.”

“Why do I have the feeling that the HLF is just gonna get more and more annoying as this war goes on?” Firebrand groaned.

“And for the matter, the PER might become more and more extreme too,” Aquamarine added, still unable to shake that memory of the newfoals dragging that poor young mare back to Equestria. She’d looked like she was being dragged to hell, a fate worse than death itself.

Demichev finally noticed the two and asked, “Are they refugees?”

“Yes,” Yon-Soo answered. “They want to help out in the war effort and get training.”

"The men won't like it," Demichev sighed. "But I'll accept it. Even if we sent them back somewhere that the barrier hasn't eaten, they'll have to fight anyway."

"So, can we use the facilities on the site?" Porter asked, watching as the man got up and looked out the window. 

Demichev nodded his head, giving a tired sigh. "Of course. Let me inform my troops of your stay."


Two Months Later

"Alright, you ready Aquamarine?" Porter asked as the mare stared at the dummies. She gave a short nod as her horn glowed and a light blue shield popped into existence.  "Yon-Soo, Hyong-Jin, Sergei; open fire!"

Aquamarine's ears flattened under the roar of various Kalashnikovs firing, her shield flaring as the bullets broke apart or ricochet off the shield.

Two months ago, she wouldn’t have dreamed of anything like this. Porter requested someone from the PHL to find a way to build up her magical strength. The techniques were surprisingly easy for her to learn...

At least from what they told him.

Performing it was a whole different matter.

For the first three weeks, Aquamarine would go to bed sore and exhausted. She had to strengthen her magic, one such exercise being when she had to carry a dozen tennis balls with her levitation abilities. It was easy enough at first, until she reached the fifth hour where she learned first hoof the meaning of magical exhaustion. Then she had to perform physical exercise, running for two miles, barrel crunches (where she learned she had quite the tummy, much to her embarrassment), and leg stretches. To end the day, she had to perform the shield spell and let Porter and Yon-Soo hit her shields with two-by-fours and baseball bats.

However, by the fourth week, there was clearly a large difference from before. She was able to carry a dozen five pound weights with little issue, able to run five miles without losing her breath and she’d slimmed down a lot, Comet testifying to her much more toned figure one day.





"Wow Mommy." Comet gazed at her mother as she finished her five mile run, her wings fluttering as her mother took a deep breath. "You got really fast!"

"Thank you honey." Aquamarine smiled at her daughter. Her daughter gave a small smile, a playful look on her face.

"Daddy won't be able to take his eyes off..." Comet trailed off, suddenly realizing the topic of her comment. She scowled and whispered, “Ah fuck…”

Aquamarine’s eyes widened, first from Comet’s accidental blurb about Gale, and then her shock at the language her daughter was using. She shot an angry glare at the soldiers, who were watching her run the track.

"Melnik!" Aquamarine shouted in anger, the soldiers' eyes widened and they parted, revealing the one-armed Russian drinking a bottle of vodka. His eyes widened as the mare stormed up to him, her horn glowing brightly as a shield appeared around him and the unicorn.

Comet and the soldiers watched on as the mare appeared to begin yelling at him, but not a sound could be heard from within. Melnik shrank away as the mother unicorn continued to berate him for several minutes before canceling the spell.

"-and if she so much says another curse word, I will personally shove that bottle where the sun doesn't shine! Ugh!" Aquamarine growled as she stormed away. Comet guiltily walked up to him, rubbing her leg with her hoof.

"Sorry Uncle Ivan, I didn't mean to get you in trouble," Comet whimpered out, only to find herself picked up by the one armed man.

"It’s no issue. If I don't get yelled at by a woman at least once a week, I am not doing a good job." Melnik laughed, only for Comet to stare at him in confusion.

"Huh?" she said as her eyes widened in bewilderment.





Aquamarine’s training kicked up a notch as the second month of training started, as she was taught several spells to help her in the future. It was the PHL’s belief that for ponies who wanted nothing to do with the new Solar Empire, there was no such thing as a civilian. Or at least, there wouldn’t be such a thing in the future. There were simply too many factions gunning for them. As a result, valuable PHL unicorns were to be trained in a wide variety of spells, and not just those that fit as their special talents.

Aquamarine had done well at learning various shield spells to protect from offensive spells, minor healing spells, even an offensive concussive spell to help lay down covering fire for the others, and defend herself from newfoals at close range.

But she prided herself on the shield spells under her belt, always ready to improve her chances of survival.

Unlike the Royal Guards, who were unused to human tactics, simply used the shield to try weather the firing from the human weapons, Aquamarine was taught to use the shield sparingly and find cover as quick as possible. 

And there was another clear difference between a Royal Guard and Aquamarine. 

Aquamarine had the chance to experience weapon fire in a safe environment, whereas the Royal Guards were thrown into the grinder.

The shield held under the withering fire, bullets flattening themselves into almost mushroom-shaped lumps against it, until Sergei pulled out 'his' 6G30 grenade launcher and took aim. 

*whump-BOOM*

Aquamarine gave a small gasp, and staggered back a couple feet, her head shaking with a dull, throbbing ache, her hooves skidding against the ground. Her magic had dropped in power so quickly that it had felt almost like a slap in the face... But, as the smoke cleared, her shield remained.

Cracked and barely holding together for sure, but it was still there and still standing. The dummies were whole and undamaged, marking a passing grade for the boot camp in the PHL.

She felt Porter rub her head, sitting down and giving a tired smile at him. "I passed..."

"You sure did." Porter smiled as he gave a thumbs up to the three on the firing range as they walked back to them.

"You did it, Mommy!" Comet cried out, hovering over the ground as she tackle-hugged her mother, whatever compliments she could give slowly turned into adorable squeaks and squeals, and joyful nuzzling.

“It never stops being adorable, does it?” Yon-Soo asked.

“Nope,” Aitmatov said, a smile on his face, Blizzard smiling as well as she looked at Comet with pride.

"Best student I ever had," Blizzard sniffed as she held herself with an air of superiority, only to grunt as Firebrand elbowed her.

"Only student you mean. And I deserve some credit too," Firebrand chided, smiling as the mother and daughter swelled with pride.

"The good news for everyone keeps on coming." Melnik said with a smile as he looked down at his tablet, "my arm arrived this morning! I having a fitting later today, and some physical therapy scheduled."

"Looks like a good day today, huh Porter?" Yon-soo said, Porter smiling as the group began to talk excitedly to one another.

"Yeah. Today is a good day." Porter said quietly.

"LIEUTENANT!" 

Porter and the group turned to watched as a Russian soldier rushed up to them, the look of panic on his face.

"What's wrong? Are we under attack?"

"No... not yet..." the soldier heaved as he grabbed his breath. "But something terrible has happened. Colonel Demichev wants you at headquarters right now!”

"Mommy, what do you think is happening?" Comet looked up to her mother with worry.

"It’s okay, honey. Maybe it’s nothing," Aquamarine said with a strained smile.

And yet, the feeling of dread only sank further in her gut.





"One week ago, the Empire’s forces invaded Reykjavik, Iceland in record numbers while the military and civilians were still in the process of evacuating. Our brave troops of various countries and the PHL held back the Tyrant’s forces until the last ships were clear, but at a great cost."

"Lyra Heartstrings was captured and dragged back to Equestria."

No one could breathe as they heard the news, it was as if the earth had been yanked out from under them. As if suddenly, the point of light at the end had vanished, leaving them stranded. And, for several moments, the ragtag group of humans and ponies stared at each other in abject horror, jaws dropped as far as physically possible, shivering in shock and horror.

It wasn’t. It couldn’t have been. And yet it was.

Firebrand looked like he had mentally shut down. “Ambassador Lyra was… captured?” he choked, in a small, weak, wavering tone that didn’t sound like his own voice. “No, no no no! Not her!”

An image replayed through the respective minds of Blizzard, Aquamarine, and Comet. A pony found by newfoals in the human world, dragged into the pink void of the Barrier, screaming for help, looking for all the world like she was being dragged to hell. To imagine that in conjunction with Lyra was too terrifying to contemplate.

“I don’t even want to think about what the Queen Bitch is going to do,” a nearby soldier remarked, her voice jittering with disgust.

And yet the images of the early Solar Empire kept on flickering through Blizzard’s head. Her once-beloved leader had ordered the mass extermination of every changeling they could find, instituted the mind healers, used the Totem-Prole network to seek out and squash dissent. She remembered a protest in Cloudsdale about the growing militarization of Equestria, the repurposing of skyliners into potioneer ships and battleships, and the embargo on human culture…. it was a rather general expression of discontent with the current state of affairs.

Celestia had sent in Royal Guards, who suppressed the protest without mercy, creating stinging hail to drive pegasi away, manipulated clouds to shoot lightning and electrocute pegasi, and generally using their weather manipulation to smash through the protest. Anypony in the protest was damned if they did, damned if they didn’t, though Blizzard hadn’t known that at the moment. Ponies that turned themselves in didn’t come out the same, ponies that resisted were hit even harder, and even running away didn’t seem all that safe.

If Celestia responded that way to a peaceful protest, she shuddered to think how she’d react to Lyra’s very existence. Queen Celestia’s twisted definition of harmony was that everyone held the same opinions as her, and judging by just how much Lyra had disagreed… Blizzard stopped. That line of thought wouldn’t go anywhere pleasant. 

"Well... maybe they are trying to save her!" Firebrand exclaimed,  hope rising that the PHL save their leader.

“Nyet," Demichev said solemnly as he looked away.

"We tried... so hard to save her. Many died in the attempt but we failed."

"On this day of March 15th, Lyra Heartstrings has been wrongly convicted in a false court already determined to find her guilty, set to stone and destroyed."

The silence that time felt like it took an eternity.

"No!" Firebrand screamed, looking at the others for help. "Its a trick! A lie! That bitch is using the PER to broadcast this!"

"Firebrand..." Aquamarine whimpered as the pegasus seemingly lost himself in his rage. Comet stepped back, her ears down in the telltale expression of depression, tears in her eyes and a worried look on her face as she looked at Firebrand.

"No! She can't be dead! Marcus wouldn't allow it! Nopony would allow it! I shouldn’t have left her! I could’ve saved her or something! She.... she..." Hyong-Jin managed to wrap his arms around the distraught pegasus, holding him as he broke down. The others helped him, wrapping Firebrand in their hold as he burst into tears, crying at the loss of his close friend. “Where would we go from here?! What’s the PHL without her?!” Firebrand screamed with a mixture of utter heartbreak and rage.

Yon-Soo swallowed a lump in his throat, but he really didn’t know how to respond to that. He remembered how kind and gracious Lyra had been when he and his friends met her. How she seemed so small, yet carried herself with the grace and dignity of a leader.

As if by cue, the news shifted to footage of Marcus Renee at a podium.

"As of today, I, Colonel Marcus Renee, will temporarily take over the PHL until another is fit to lead. We will continue our fight against the Tyrant. Lyra sacrificed herself to save thousands, and we will not let it be in vain."

"We will not fall... we will rise and win. All units affiliated with PHL will continue to do their duties, let no one tell you otherwise. Its time to step up and make Lyra proud of us."

"Et spem futuri saeculi Amicitia."

The news on the TV continued on but no one paid much attention to it. It felt like a kick to the gut, several soldiers almost crying. What few other military officials were in the room were aghast, their faces (aged by decades in the previous months) gray and colorless. 

It seemed impossible. Like a nightmare, a drill, or some horrible excuse of a prank. It had to be something that was faked, this couldn’t be real!

And yet it was. Lyra, the founder of the PHL, the mare that helped ponies integrate into the human military, the mare that had been one of the first to say something was wrong with Equestria, the mare that had denounced the newfoals and survived countless assassination attempts as she inspired two worlds to fight, the mare that had publicly denounced Celestia, the once-humble musician that had started a revolution which shook Equestria to its very core, the mare that had...

It was futile to try and describe it. No words seemed able to fully describe what Lyra was or her importance.

And now, she was gone.

Aquamarine whispered, “Oh dear… what could happen now?”

“Yeah,” Firebrand cut in, his tears shifting from sadness to rage. “What’s the PHL without Lyra?!”

“Well,” Aitmatov said. “I read a book awhile back. It was something about online gold farmers and trade unions… I forget the title. But there was this one quote I remember, as the bold union organizer was trapped in a burning building. Her final words were, ‘I’m not magic. You all lead yourselves.’”

“You… do realize she was a unicorn, right?” Blizzard Flurry asked. “This metaphor is kind of breaking down…”

“Well, yeah, but that’s beside the point,” Aitmatov replied, rubbing his temples. “The point is, we don’t need Lyra to lead us to be the PHL. We don’t need her to inspire us to fight, or resist being turned into zombies. We can do that ourselves. Even if she’s gone, even if the PHL get downsized into oblivion, we still remember her. We still remember what she wanted us to do, and we can still fight alongside ponies that have decided a hopeless war is still better than the fascist shithole that is their home. Being PHL isn’t about Lyra, or anything like that - it’s about what she’d want us to do. It’s about what she believed in. It’s about standing up for that, for ponies and humans alike.”

Firebrand was still grief-stricken however. He tried to sniff back his tears as he choked out, “I don’t know… I mean, I’ve helped to protect her from a bunch of things… horrible things. She was just… she was more than just a leader, you know what I mean? She was like, an inspiration to all of us! Seeing her defection gave many of us the drive to leave Equestria and say “fuck you” to Celestia and the newfoals and the propaganda.”

"I couldn't have left without her either," Blizzard added. "Even after the Cloudsdale riots, it was Lyra who pointed out to me and my friends that that something had gone wrong with our world, and with us that so many accepted it." She extended a wing over Firebrand's barrel.

Aquamarine sighed and said, “I’ll admit, Comet and I hadn’t seen much of her work earlier in the war. But the fact that everypony called her such horrible things while they were calling for converting humans into those shells called newfoals… I guess it wasn’t very comfortable to them for her to expose their hypocrisy.”

“Agreed,” Blizzard said. “You’re okay with destroying an entire culture so thoroughly it could never come back…. but not someone disagreeing with you? I just never got that.”

“She was definitely the bravest pony I’ve seen,” Comet remarked, looking at the TV again as the news covered Lyra’s memorial. Curiously, there were mentions of some HLF members expressing sorrow for Lyra’s execution.

"Just stand for what Equestria once stood for, like how Lyra always described it. And you don't have to do it alone, Firebrand." Hyong-Jin gave him a warm smile, "We got your back."

"All for one and one for all!" Melnik cheered, waving his bottle around.

"Seriously, where are you getting those?" Yon-Soo asked.

"Why? Want some?" Melnik grinned at Yon-Soo's scowling face, causing the group to laugh at the antics.

"Lieutenant Stanley," Colonel Demichev called out, gaining Porter's attention. "I'm sorry to break up your group's moment, but new orders came in for you."

"Already?!" Porter blinked in surprise and felt dread rising in his chest. "It’s from my chain of command, isn’t it?"

"Of sorts," Demichev said as he handed him a twin set of silver bars. "Congratulations, Captain Stanley, you’ve been promoted."

"Wait, what?!" Porter stared at the rank in confusion.

"These are not orders for you to return, but one of protection detail. You are not going home Captain nor is your unit being disbanded." Demichev gave him a smirk, "I doubt your government will take Ms. Heartstrings’ death laying down."

Porter didn't understand at first until Demichev walked over to the satellite comms and raised the volume.

"All units, advance! Take down those November foxtrot!"

"Potioneer ships and aerostats coming out of the barrier. Let’s give them a warm American welcome with our F-22s - show ‘em why zeps went out of style!.

"Let’s show those bastards why our enemies are afraid of the name 'Delta Force'. They take one of ours, we take a whole lot more!"

"We’re taking back the Pacific. I'm tired of playing defense,and abandoning a place I fought for with tooth and claw just months ago! Tired of seeing them snuff out innocents! Everyone! Are you ready for this?! Are you ready to save everything that makes us human, and turn that PER island into smoke on the water?!”

Roars and shouts of approval rang out.

“Then… let’s take back this island! Arm the tomahawk missiles the PHL brought - I can think of no better place to test it than actual combat!”

Porter looked on before a grin morphed on his face at the next call.

"That bitch's wind up soldiers are taking up residence of my future parking lot. I find that offensive! We are 1st Battalion 10th Marines! What is our job, Havoc?!"

"Artillery, sir! Oorah!"

"What do we do, Diamond?"

"Rain fire and hell, sir! Oorah!"

"What is our name that the enemy whisper in fear, Darkhorse?"

"Nightmares, sir! Oorah!"

"I want my parking lot, gentlemen!  Make it happen!"

"Oorah!"

Demichev lowered the volume, raising an eyebrow at Porter. "They lack radio etiquette."

"Sorry Colonel." Porter couldn’t wipe the grin on his face. “It wasn’t in basic.”

"For once, I approve of the American bravado. Seeing us taking down her troops before they could spread the news of Ms. Heartstrings of their own doing." Demichev took a seat and looked to Porter. "Commander Renee made the right choice in relaying the news himself instead of letting us find out through the Tyrant. This gives us a chance to steel ourselves instead of finding out through her and taking us down through our shock."

"I... I see."

"Your orders," Demichev slid the pack to Porter, watching as he open and read his orders.  Demichev eyes trained on movement near the door and saw Aitmatov hovering near the door. He gave him a small nod and waved him inside. "Come, Khan. You have a question."

"Yes sir!" Aitmatov stood before the two before looking to Porter, "Requesting to join Lieutenant Stanley on his mission."

"Captain now..." Porter muttered as he continued to read. Aitmatov smiled before looking back to Demichev. 

"Hmm... I will allow it. Can't let the Americans have all the fun." 

"I'm going too!" Melnik yelled out, a smile on his face. "Where this bastard goes, I go."

"You're missing an arm," Demichev pointed out.

“I got a new one in the mail,” Melnik said, giving a one-armed shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”

“And where these two go, I’m following,” Blizzard said. “Especially Khan,” she added as she looked up at him, a smile on her face.

“And I’m going with Uncle Ivan and Uncle Yon-Soo too,” Comet said. “If Mommy will let me, anyway.”

“Oh, I don’t worry. I will,” Aquamarine said. “Because I’m going with you too. They need somepony to keep shields up...”

“And, let’s be honest, a filly needs a daddy,” Sergei said, blinked a bit at his words when he noticed mother of said filly, blushing brightly at him. “I, uh… I’m not sure I do that, but can you settle for a big brother?” he looked down at Comet, who nodded happily. “Besides, someone needs to explode newfoals.”

“I thought I was doing that,” Aitmatov said.

“Well, the more the merrier,” Sergei said. “What about you, Hyong-Jin?”

“You know how my home was,” Hyong-Jin said. “It was all… all about what you had to do for the state, even as it starved you, and disappeared families. Every waking moment was about what you could do, every bit of entertainment was propaganda… And for the record, Squirrel and Hedgehog was terrible.”

“That did kind of backfire with America,” Porter said.

“Right. But now, I have something I can believe in. I’ve seen what the war does, I’ve seen what it’s destroyed, and I’m not gonna stand by, or stand without my friends as the Barrier wipes us off our planet,” he continued. “Yon-Soo? Firebrand?”

“Absolutely,” Yon-Soo said with determination. “I’ve fought with you guys for over a year; you’ve all had my back, and I’ve had yours. I can safely say that I trust you all with my life. I’m staying with all of you to the end.”

Firebrand looked up, something vaguely approaching hope on his face. “For Lyra,” he said. “For everything I believed in… you’re all right. I’m not letting two worlds sink into whatever madness corrupted my home. And I’m doing it alongside all of you. Luna knows I wouldn’t trust anyone or anypony else. No offense, colonel, but I doubt that a lot of your men would be as accepting as these people.”

“None taken,” Colonel Demichev said. “It’s understandable, but it annoys me. So - you’re all with Captain Stanley, then?”

“Yes sir!” they replied, saluting.

“Good. Because orders are for all of you since you are attaching yourselves to Yon-Soo, Hyong-Jin, and Sergei." Demichev then waved a hand to Porter.  "Captain, if you will."

Porter nodded his head before lower his orders. "Okay, everyone,  let's head to our quarters and not take up the good Colonel's offices."





20 minutes later

"Alright guys," Porter stood in middle of the room, Melnik sat on the desk along with Firebrand, pouring the pegasus a shot of vodka with a grin, Yon-Soo giving the two a scowl as he rubbed Comet’s head, Blizzard and Aquamarine standing and looking at Porter attentively, and Sergei and Aitmatov quietly finishing their discussion on explosive usage.

"Alright. We have HVC-"

"Question!" Aquamarine raised her hoof, startling Porter before nodding to her. "What's a HVC?"

"Ha!" Melnik laughed as he gave gave the unicorn a smile. "It means a High Value Cargo, gerla."

"Right. It’s coming by train in a few days and we have to be on that train when it comes in for refueling." Porter explained, pulling out several Xerox copies of a map and passing them around. "There are hundreds of priceless relics and historical artifacts on this train. Famous things, stuff that should be in museums like the Louvre, if the Louvre wasn’t atomized. And it’s our duty to defend it."

"Why?" Blizzard asked.

"Because the areas we are passing through, the southern Ural Federal District and Siberian Federal District, are being contested between the PER and the HLF. They have been stopping trains passing through, either for supplies or bodies." Porter said, a scowl on his face. "The Chinese, Russians, Kazakhstani, and Mongolians are trying to clear it, but not with much success so far."

"So... we are going into a death trap?" Sergei gaped.

"The train is well armored and we will have PHL personnel on board with us. But we have to protect the cargo at all cost. We were also scheduled to receive new equipment for everyone when they learned we were in the area." Porter then looked to Firebrand and Blizzard.  "They have something called assault yokes on hand, looks like its for pegasi units. Looks like you’re getting your guns, Firebrand.”

“Finally!” Firebrand sighed. “Won’t be easy to aim, though… still better than being without a ranged weapon.”

"Alright people," Porter said as placed the papers on the table next to Firebrand. "We have four days to prepare. Get your stuff together, familiarize yourself with the new equipment as best you can. Melnik - I know that a new arm might be hard to get used to. Along with the various… functions that it has.”

“I asked specifically for a drill, a knife, and a shotgun,” Melnik said. “So far, I’ve just skimmed the manual. But it does have those.”

“Right. Imperial forces like to mob you up close and personal, so those will come in handy. And HLF?"

“It kind of varies. But they like to fill targets with lead,” Sergei added.

"Good thing we have better armor now," Yon-Soo noted. "Heard they have light shields and they help strengthen the user."

"Yup." Firebrand smiled, "A PER defector put himself through hell to get Royal Guard equipment to the PHL, as penance for what he’d done. New PHL equipment has Standard Royal Guard enchantments,  rumors have it that there is something even stronger in the works. Lyra... had all kinds of designs and plans for new weapons and no one’s gonna let that go to waste."

“Big guns?” Aitmatov asked, the tone of his voice and the smile on his face not unlike the kind one would see on a kid in a candy store.

“A lot of them,” Porter said. “We might even be getting a few on the train. Though there’s a catch.”

“And that is?” Aitmatov asked.

“It’s untested. Probably very dangerous, thanks to the magic,” Porter continued. “We’re meant to be field-testing them, though.”

“But we’re testing it on PER,” Aitmatov pointed.

“And HLF,” Blizzard added.

“Well, yes,” Porter said.

At that moment, in response, Aitmatov and Blizzard looked at each other, and shrugged, saying something to the effect of “Worth it.” Blizzard was surprised at the malice in her own voice, disturbed to find herself so ready to inflict pain on anyone (or anypony), particularly her old homeland.

And yet… she’d seen what both factions had done while trying to “help” humanity in their own ways. Both doing more harm than good. She’d seen how some of her old friends back in Cloudsdale had lowered themselves to help the empire. She’d seen what the HLF had done to those poor ponies they’d found in the abandoned school. So fuck ‘em.

“Bastards are going to regret ever crossing us,” she said, welcoming that venom in her voice. Aitmatov looked down at her, almost approvingly. Maybe a little worried.

“Don’t get carried away, though,” Aitmatov said to her. “A big enough gun and enough anger can make a man feel like he’s invincible. But they don’t. It’s how you use those things,” he said. “I could use the SVN-2015 I have like some huge assault rifle. But then… I’d be dead. You have to keep calm during all this.” 

“Right,” Blizzard said, taking a deep breath. “I can do that.”

"Anyway, let’s hope that stuff comes out soon," Porter said. “Let’s get ourselves ready then.”

Porter watched at the group filed out, his thoughts on each person and what they brought.

Yon-Soo and Hyong-Jin he knew right off the bat as the most well rounded of the group, training them personally for several months. They dabbled in all weapons but preferred mid-range fighting. The two worked with the rest of the group well enough, Yon-Soo worked extremely well with him while Hyong-Jin was able shift his fighting style to whatever was necessary to work with.

Firebrand was their scouter and heavy assault, able to get into areas quickly and take down enemies with ease with his flying. Now he had to reevaluate him to add in 'incendiary' specialist thanks to his own brand of magic dealing with fire.

Blizzard also acted as a scouter but as a spotter as well, helping Aitmatov spot targets for him. He had yet to see her own brand of magic beside cooling a cloud, but she probably had her own tricks to use that she felt weren’t necessary to pull out.

Melnik was his close combat specialist, listening in to his tales of past missions he obviously preferred to get in your face rather than stay from a distance.  His new arm was no doubt based off Lyra’s own design. She had possibly designed it herself before she was taken, given what Melnik wanted on it. This only gave him a dangerous edge. 

Aitmatov was their designated sniper, Sergei was an okay back up and a decent aim, but Aitmatov made it look like an art form. That man showed his talent sniping the HLF, somehow having managed to shoot a rocket out of the air with a heavy revolver. He’d also shown a particular fondness for light machine guns.

Sergei was an interesting soldier to work with. The man breathed explosives and knew how to handle a wide variety of them. He was also well rounded in close combat and sniping, and proven himself able to handle an enormous and unfamiliar sniper rifle. A good backup in case the primary roles were down.

The only real worries he had were with Aquamarine and Comet.  True, Aquamarine had passed the basic boot camp for PHL ponies, but now they were thrusting her to the front line, expecting her to perform under pressure. He’d known men in his own boot camp that had been excellent shots, but they’d been unable to cope with the pressure of actual combat. Comet was even more worrisome; besides her young age and small size, he was worried about just how well she would handle the horrors of the battlefield. She was certainly a brave little filly, so hopefully she’d be able to pull her own weight...

"Porter?" He turned to see Yon-Soo next to him. Yon-Soo’s expression was curious, a mixture of hopeful optimism and slight fear. "Everything will be fine,” he said as reassuringly as he could. “We'll protect them.”

"Yeah..." Porter watched as Comet flew around Sergei and Aquamarine, displaying some fighting techniques Firebrand taught her with a wide smile on her face. "Got to keep morale up. Protect not only the cargo, but each other."

Yon-Soo smiled and said, “Exactly! We’ll get through this!” He then walked over and joined Comet and Sergei’s conversation on martial arts, unaware of the brewing thoughts.

Porter reached into his pocket and took out a picture of happier and less complicated times. It was from a couple months before Equestria manifested, when he and and Eun-Hee had gone on a trip to Hallasan National Park in Jeju-do. It was taken from a camera phone, but the picture was still as clear as the day it  had been taken.

It had been a beautiful day. The sun had been shining, the skies were blue, it had seemed almost perfect. He personally would give anything to have those happier days back...

He was more than certain he wasn’t the only one. The friends, family members and any other loved ones of the other reporters at that press conference were likely still in mourning too, in a similar position as him.

"Protect what you have..." Porter murmured to himself as he watched Melnik ran out cackling as Aquamarine chased after him, her face flushed in embarrassment. "Because you'll never know when they will be gone."

> A Journey to the East
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 9: A Journey to the East



Co-Authors/Editors
Redskin122004
Doctor Fluffy
TB3
TheIdiot


Yon-Soo relaxed, lying in a meadow, the sun shining down. The trees were tall, gently swaying in the breeze, and the flowers smelled sweet.

It was… nice. He hadn’t experienced this sort of peaceful tranquility in quite some time. No newfoals or lunatics trying to kill him. No fighting. No barrier. No listening to Melnik forecasting their doom and being right.

But something was screaming at him to get up and move. What? What was it? Something was wrong, he was sure of it. ‘Why should I listen?’ he thought to himself, sleepily. He could just relax in the tall grass, with that calm breeze-

He stopped. For there was no breeze moving the grass. The trees were just shaking of their own accord, in no one direction. He stood up, curious, and saw faces embedded in the trees, equine and human alike, oozing sap like blood or tears. Then recoiled. The twists of bark and burls seemed to form the most awful expressions, as if they were in the midst of some unspeakable torture and were howling out in soundless screams of agony. The shaking branches and leaves seemed to form faces as well, blinking in and out of his vision, begging him to escape or release them. A great wall of pink was over the horizon, barreling down at him like a stampede of horses or a tidal wave, a wave of dust before it. It swept through the trees, over his head, stripping the leaves from the trees, blasting the faces away.

He screamed, trying to run away, practically sprinting through the grass, which seemed to part for him, bending against the pink wall, only to be burnt away. He tripped over a rock and fell, tumbling into a ravine, as clouds of dust washed over him. More screaming faces, faces he knew - his parents, his friends, anyone he remembered from the past couple days, even those poor tortured ponies in the elementary school the HLF had taken over - flashed by, forming themselves from the dust.

After an eternity, it stopped, and Yon-Soo pulled himself up, over the ravine, to find the land ravaged. The plants were rotting and diseased, the trees gray and sickly. Startled, he fell back down the ravine, screaming, and landing on his back.

“Sonovabitch that hurt,” he muttered, and pulled himself back up to find the wasteland -

Did not exist. The land looked almost as it had before the pink wall had hit it. The grass and trees were vibrantly green, the flowers in vivacious bloom, and the sun shone in a cloudless sky. Yet…

Yon-Soo realized something was horribly wrong with this picture.

Everything looked so perfect. Too perfect in fact.

The trees seemed too regular, no life or “zing” to them, as if planted in rows rather than the beautiful random chaos of nature. The flowers were too symmetrical looking, and much like the trees, they looked like they had been planted like a garden. But what really disturbed Yon-Soo was how the sunlight itself just felt… off. It didn’t really warm him up, nor did it provide the light in a real way. It felt cold, lesser somehow. Pallid, diminished. And it was all quieter than a mausoleum.

“Yon-Soo…” a familiar voice called out.

He turned around, trying to find who was calling for him. It seemed to come from everywhere at once.

“Yon-Soo, don’t you recognize me?”

He then saw her.

Eun-Hee, but not how she was before that fateful day. She was now a unicorn newfoal with a light cream colored coat and a dual-toned green and yellow mane. She had that characteristic empty, glassy eyed, too-wide-to-look-natural smile of the newfoals as she held a hoof out to him. The fact that her eyes - the irises themselves - were red only made her look even more unsettling. Like blood almost.

“Come on, Yon-Soo, join us. Come with me to Equestria, and we can all be happy under Celestia’s warmth and guidance,” she said to him. Even though she sounded gentle, it was strained; felt forced.

Yon-Soo immediately replied, “No! I won’t let myself be ponified! Eun-Hee, this isn’t who you are! She took your soul and twisted it to her will!”

“Now Yon-Soo, that’s not a very nice thing to say to Flower Pepper,” Porter cut in, suddenly appearing next to the newfoal Eun-Hee. He held a bottle full of a familiar purple liquid in one hand.

“Porter, what are you doing?!”

He said nothing, just opened the bottle and took a big swig of the potion. As the conversion process took hold, Yon-Soo scrambled to find his pistol. He couldn’t let his friend become one of them, losing his mind, body and soul in the process.

But he had no weapons on him, and in Porter’s place was a light brown newfoal with a dark blue mane. Porter and Eun-Hee/Flower Pepper then said in unison, “Join us, Yon-Soo. Embrace the harmony and join us in spreading it to those untouched.”

“NO!! NO, GET AWAY FROM ME!” Yon-Soo screamed as he turned to run away, pushing himself off the ground, breaking into a sprint. The ground came apart at his touch, revealing a black void under the paper-thin ground.

And the green flaked away on the plants as he touched them. The color drained from the flowers like wet paint, fading into browns, blacks, and grays as they drew closer to the ground. Where they weren’t disintegrating, that was, leaving puddles of dust in his footprints. All around him, it was disintegrating, coming up in little splashlike puffs around his bare feet.

“It’s dead,” he heard himself pant crazily, not knowing where the words were coming from. “It’s all dead and already decayed; all they can do is pretend they’re alive and put a coat of paint on it to make it look alive again!”

A newfoal rushed at him, galloping along the plain, and throwing a vial at him. He barely dodged, though - was that a drop on his skin?! NO! Had to be sweat, had to be sweat...

More and more newfoals followed, enough to turn the sky and horizon a rainbow of colors. All were pleading with him to join the herd, like an eerie chorus of death.

“You’ll become perfect!”
“You’ll have a true soul.”
“Embrace the light!”

“Just one drink and everything will be okay,” Firebrand suddenly said, holding out a vial of potion. He, as well as Blizzard, Aquamarine and Comet all had the same glassy smiles of the converted on their faces as well. It was utterly unsettling to see, maybe even more unsettling than the usual newfoal.

“Come on, Yon-Soo,” the newfoal that was once Porter said. “Join with us, and we’ll all be one big happy family.”

“No more fighting and sadness,” said Hyong-Jin, who, along with Aitmatov, Melnik, and Sergei, then took a drink of the potion to transform as well.

“And I will personally shepherd you and your friends into everlasting happiness and prosperity,” Queen Celestia declared.

Yon-Soo saw how imposing she looked; much larger than the average pony, maybe even bigger than a full grown earth horse. Her white fur was pure and bright, her mane shimmering, and the look on her face was the same kind of comforting and nurturing smile of a mother, but like everything else around here, it was so close to perfect that it fell short. Her eyes looked empty and Yon-Soo knew that he was little more than meat to her - a savage animal barely above a chimp, who would only be of some worth to her once he was on four legs, singing her praises.

And the queen would still use him as little more than cannon fodder for her crusade if he were added to her numbers. His mother’s love was genuine and unconditional. Celestia only loved things as long as they could serve her.

“All it takes is one little drink of this, my child. You can shed away your imperfect self, and let the light of harmony bless you with eternal happiness in a true paradise,” the Tyrant said. Her words were laced thick with honeyed sweetness and compassion, but Yon-Soo knew better. He knew that it was all a ruse, just an illusion to comfort him and coerce him.

“No! You won’t take my humanity away!” Yon-Soo yelled at her. “I’d rather die than become one of your mindless slaves!”

Immediately, her eyes narrowed with impatience and annoyance before she sighed heavily, with a sort of exasperation a parent would have with a naughty child.

“Why do they think defiance will get them anywhere? My little ponies, you know what to do.”

Immediately, Yon-Soo fell flat on his back, his legs and arms bound to the ground with magic. The newfoals that used to be his friends all surrounded him, with Comet holding a vial of potion.

“Drink up!” she said happily.

As they shoved the bottle into his mouth, forcing him to drink, Yon-Soo saw the Queen looking down at him with a smug grin of satisfaction before she said, “Now you are perfect. Welcome to the herd, my son.”

“No!” he tried to scream, but his lungs had no air and he could feel his bones popping and cracking, fingers and toes fusing together into hooves, organs rearranging themselves, and his skin felt like it was on fire as he could feel the fur sprouting out, everything hurt so bad, it was all getting darker, dark-

“NO!!”

Yon-Soo awoke with a start, gasping desperately for air. He looked at his hands to make sure he still had them. And he did. He flexed his fingers experimentally, just to be extra sure.

He rubbed his face dry of the cold sweat he was drenched in and tried to calm himself down. But that nightmare… it was truly in a class of its own. Everything about it was so unsettling; he felt like he’d just gone on a mental rollercoaster. Too much to handle in fact.

He tried to get up, and realized just how stiff his muscles felt. Whatever vodka Melnik had used last night, or whatever he used to make vodka, it was way too strong. What the hell had that dream been about? Why was he having nightmares of the Tyrant and hordes of newfoals trying to convert him, and his friends getting turned?

He hoped to God, Buddha, Confucius, Allah, and any other deity out there that this wasn’t a prophetic dream or anything like that.

“Yon-Soo, you doing alright?” Aitmatov suddenly asked him. Yon-Soo almost jumped in fright and screamed, but settled down quickly when he saw it was them.

“Holy shit, don’t scare me like that!” Yon-Soo gasped.

Blizzard looked at him with concern, noticing how pale and on edge he looked. “Whoa there, Yon-Soo, don’t freak out now! You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“That’s all?” Aitmatov asked, raising one eyebrow. “I’d be happy if all I had to be afraid of now was ghosts, or those voices in the pipes in the Moscow Metro. No, the kid’s seen something worse.”

Yon-Soo took several deep breaths to steady himself before he said, “It was a nightmare. No, it was more than just a nightmare… it was like being thrown into hell itself. I… I was being chased by newfoals, waves and waves of them, all trying to ponify me. And then the Tyrant came in... And you guys were in it too.”

“... As newfoals?” Blizzard asked, her voice shaking just a bit.

“How’d you know?” Yon-Soo asked.

“It’s… a pretty common nightmare for people and ponies these days,” Blizzard admitted. “Some of my best friends had it.” There was a curious hesitance in her voice, an uncertainty. If he had to wager a guess, she probably had similar nightmares herself.

“Yeah, that actually doesn't surprise me,” Yon-Soo nodded. “Did… either of you have a similar dream last night?”

“No,” Aitmatov said, hand on the back of his head. “I was, ah…. kind of busy.” He looked down at Blizzard, and the two of them looked away, blushing slightly.

“I was busy too,” Blizzard said finally, still blushing.

“I… see…” Yon-Soo said. He decided not to ask, and got up to stretch. The train was at full speed, so he stumbled a bit as he got up. He walked over to his foot locker, pulling on his gear and strapping on his weaponry. “Anything else happen last night?”

“Nah,” Aitmatov sighed.  “We’re not in the badlands yet. Still keeping busy, though.”

Indeed, Yon-Soo was sure they were. He turned towards the door and decided to check on everyone. Sure, that nightmare wasn’t real (and he was going to make extra damn sure it would never come true either), but he couldn’t help be feel a little paranoid and wanting to make sure everyone was alright.

The cars were full of boxes, crates and other kinds of packages, securely wrapped around what Yon-Soo was certain were all kinds of priceless artifacts, relics, artwork, and other pieces of history. He didn’t ask what was inside. All he needed to know was that he had to protect them.

Outside the windows, the land was rushing past. Trees flashed by in blurs of green and brown, passing the rare road or small house.

Most roads they had passed the previous day, though, were clogged with traffic, even forgettable, tiny back roads. No-one was going to head westwards, for very obvious reasons.

He drew back suddenly, noticing a truck with a heavy machinegun and stolen missile pod grafted to it racing down a nearby road. “Was that-”

“Ignore it,” Aitmatov said. “Could be HLF, could be people just trying to survive. Besides, far as they know, we’re just an ordinary freight train.”

“Should… should we be worried, though?” Yon-Soo asked, his hand instinctively reaching for his K2 rifle. Or, more specifically, the rifle’s grenade launcher.

“Probably,” Aitmatov said. “Blizzard and I have been hearing bad things on the radio from here.”

“Like what?” Yon-soo asked.

“There might be a real psychopath around here,” Aitmatov said. “Man by the name of Kagan Burakgazi. Viral specialist… he’s used chemical weaponry on newfoals and PHL-affiliated towns.”

Yon-Soo shivered.

“Still… he’s not around at the moment,” Aitmatov reassured him. “We’d know if he was. Don’t worry about it.”

Yon-Soo breathed a sigh of relief, and headed off down the train, heading for the engine. He’d probably do this time and time again, but he needed something to do on the journey. He wished he had a Nintendo DS on him or something. That, and he’d likely end up reading all the books on his phone’s Kindle app by the end of the journey.

The car ahead had been taken as a… well, it wasn’t a mess hall, it wasn’t a restaurant, it was more of a general purpose hangout. His fellow squadmembers sat on chairs, plastic things that someone had pilfered from an abandoned store, drinking sodas and relaxing, reading old magazines or using the wi-fi. Sergei (who had a large, unfamiliar PHL gun that vaguely resembled a grenade launcher strapped to his back) was teaching Comet how to use the computer with an animated pair of gloves, as Aquamarine Glimmer looked on, unsure about what her daughter might be looking at. 

“Hey,” Sergei said. “Don’t worry. Just because there’s some swearing in this movie doesn’t mean it’s bad. They’re nowhere near as foul-mouthed as Melnik can be.”

“Ooh, what’s that device?” Comet asked excitedly, pointing to the screen. “I bet it’s some kind of super-”

Sergei burst out laughing. “Nope. That’s… that’s a walkman. A thirty-year-old one. Haven’t been in use with the invention of CD players, and then those became obsolete with the iPod and smartphones.”

“Who even uses iPods anymore?” an unfamiliar American PHL man sighed.

“Least the song’s catchy though,” Comet said. “Heyyy…  Heeeeyyy… what’s the matter with your head!” she half-hummed, half-sang.

“You guys having fun?” Yon-Soo asked. He immediately noticed Aquamarine and Comet failing to stop themselves from giggling as soon as he walked into the train car.

“Yeah, that’s one word for it,” Aquamarine said, little snorting giggles escaping through the spaces between her words.

Yon-Soo narrowed his eyes at Sergei and asked, “Did you tell them something about me?”

“Not tell; shown,” the blond soldier smirked as he opened the tab and played the clip. “Look closely at the subtitles.”

“Min-Jung!” a man that was clearly Yon-Soo, albeit not as himself, yelled, running through an airport. He was clad in a white outfit and a green apron that was covered in flour dust and dried frosting.

“Something sounds familiar,” Blizzard said, fluttering in. Her eyes lit up with excitement as she squealed, “I haven’t seen this in forever!”

They watched as Yon-Soo’s character ran up to a young woman in a red peacoat, carrying a rolling luggage bag as she was about to board a plane. The background music was a mixture of sad and romantic, and at the same time a bit melodramatic.

“What is it, Jin-Soo?!” Min-Jung asked angrily. “All you’ve been doing is loafing around and never making any real decisions your whole life! If you’re really so set on staying here in Andong and working at your family’s bakery, then go on ahead. I won’t hold that against you! You can be with Soo-Ah and be happy with her.”

“Please!” Yon-Soo’s character begged, his eyes watering slightly, as he fell to his knees, practically grovelling at her feet. “Soo-Ah is a wonderful woman, but it is not her that lights my heart and fills my dreams!”

“You know I can’t pass up this offer. I could become a big time actress in America! If I were to turn my back on it… I care for you, I truly do! But this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance!” she gasped dramatically, turning to the side, one hand held up in a bizarre gesture, as if she was attempting to milk a giant cow with one hand.

“Then I’ll wait for you!” Yon-Soo’s character told her. “Right here. No matter how long it takes, I’ll wait for you.”

“You would?!” the woman asked. “You… you would wait that long for me?!”

“Yes, for you, and for no-one else! I love you Min-Jung!” he said as he grabbed her into a hug, which she reciprocated in full as they passionately kissed. The background characters were all sighing with happiness and cheers for the couple, applauding them for their discovered love. With the exception of one extra who clearly hadn’t been paid enough, staring at everyone, confused, one eyebrow raised so high it threatened to merge with his widow’s peak.

As the credits rolled and a K-pop song (which Blizzard identified as one Yon-Soo had sung himself) began playing, everyone just looked at Yon-Soo as if he had grown another head. Several of them were snickering, others unable to believe that a former TV star was now fighting alongside them.

Except Blizzard, who was over the moon, saying in a wistful tone, “It was so romantic and sweet! Oh, I remember watching the whole series in a three days long binge. Thank you for existing, Hulu!”

“Poor Aitmatov then,” someone muttered.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that!” Aitmatov called over. “I actually liked it too!”

Comet giggled and asked Yon-Soo, “How come you never told us about this, Uncle Yon-Soo? You were so lovely!”

Yon-Soo twitched as he loudly said through clenched teeth, “Okay everyone, how about we not focus on my acting career and maybe focus on more important matters at hand?”

He silently prayed to God that no one would ever find that music video...

“Oh sweet Luna, thank you for portable video cameras not existing in Equestria,” Blizzard whispered.

Yon-Soo just rubbed his forehead, deciding not to question that either. “Riiiiiiight…”

“I thought you looked familiar,” Aquamarine said. “Did you-”

“Nope,” Aitmatov and Blizzard said at once. “Totally deja vu, just go with it,” Blizzard added.

“Knowing them, you don’t even want to ask about that one,” Melnik said, walking in. “Trust me.”

“Ah, Ivan!” Blizzard said quickly, desperately trying to change the subject. “How’s the new arm treating you?”

“Not too bad,” he said. “Still getting used to it though, and-” without warning, everything below his prosthetic arm’s wrist reconfigured into a large drill. “Yeah. Having a hard time with that. Still, it’s so great to have a new arm! I can finally play video games again too!”

“Whoa there, Simon,” Sergei said. “I… don’t feel like getting impaled on a huge drill today. Can you put it back?”

“But my name’s-” Melnik started, then smiled. “Ohhhh…”

The joke completely flew over Yon-Soo, Aquamarine and Comet’s heads. 

“Whatever,” Yon-Soo sighed. “I’m starving. What do we have to eat?”


“Not much,” an American PHL soldier admitted. “Just rations. Might not be the best tasting stuff, but it keeps for a long time and it will nourish you.”

He handed Yon-Soo the package, which he began to examine. There was a bread roll, airtight wrapped pieces of ham and cheese, a pair of small packets of mustard and mayonnaise, and sides of trail mix, a fruit filled granola bar, milk, and two small chocolate cookies.

Yon-Soo sighed with resignation, knowing he’d have to get used to eating this crap for as long as this war was going on. He unwrapped the contents, made his sandwich and ate it. It tasted dry and a bit bland in fact, but he trudged on, chewing and swallowing diligently, even though the rations tasted like and had the consistency of cardboard.

He walked along the train car, listening to the various discussions between PHL members, human and pony alike, curious to see what the Americans had brought over. 

Such stories they had.

“I was in Prague, right around the time of The Massacre. Couldn't get anyone, and we were about to leave on the train... when suddenly, I see this high-schooler, carrying his brother on his back.  He was outrunning the Barrier, must've been running for hours…" one PHL stallion said. “He fell asleep for like ten hours when he got on the train.”

“...Oh, the Prague Massacre? That was nothing compared to Bosnia! We had the fucking zeps bombarding us the whole time… was a nightmare. We had children, women, cripples, people that shouldn’t have been in a war zone, throwing IEDs and mollies at newfoals… a man with an improvised flamethrower...”

“-Thank God that bitch Reitman is in custody now. She’s gonna scream, gonna bleed if there’s any justice in this world, if they’re anywhere near as angry as everyone else is. No jury’s gonna let her go without the chair-”

“-Funny thing is, the resort? They said my sister disappeared before Equestria manifested. Can’t prove it, but I always thought it was fishy there were newfoals at the grand openings of the bureaus…”

“Heard of this train called the Dreadnought. The HLF took some old diesel and armored it up, added on a tank… No, really, an actual goddamn tank! I think it might be somewhere in China.”

Yon-Soo sighed, knowing all too well the general vibe they gave off. He wouldn’t lie, he had done some pretty brutal things over these past couple of years, killing people and ponies alike. He was almost shocked he had actually survived this long, and still had a clear enough head to boot. 

The former celebrity soon took a seat to further contemplate his thoughts, not really paying attention to the fact that someone was already sitting right next to him and he was muttering some things to himself.

“So how’s your magic? Is it good? Hmm I see, can you fly at least?” the man asked, a distant look his turquoise colored eyes… though he seemed to be talking to himself, was he out of it?

Yon-Soo wasn’t sure what to make of that, deciding to just leave the weird man be. ‘Wouldn’t shock me if some people just completely lost their marbles in this whole war...’ he thought to himself.

“Oh I agree, wholeheartedly; everything is just crazy with a capital K don’t you think?” the man asked, his eyes focused on Yon-Soo, no longer distant. His English was clear, and his facial features appeared to be of some Eastern European origin, but Yon-Soo couldn't place where he must have come from.

‘No sense in shutting him out or being rude.’ So, even though Yon-Soo was a bit unnerved by this guy, he nonetheless put on a cordial face and replied, “Crazy doesn’t even begin to describe this whole situation in general, in my personal opinion.”

“Well, given the fact that a glowing pink wall of doom has destroyed an entire continent and just keeps on going...” he stopped to give a brief chuckle, apparently there was an inside joke of some kind, “It figures that all the zombies, really hostile military people and crazy sell out terrorists would be prevalent given the fact that you’re talking to a guy like me… though you’re very kind in my opinion, Yon-Soo,” the man said, running his hands through his messy graying silver blond hair and exhaling.

Yon-Soo cracked a smile and replied, “Thanks, you’re very kind too, sir.”

“No, not really. I should've introduced myself before starting this conversation,” the man said, putting a hand into his dark blue vest pocket. “It’s just been awhile since I’ve used my name is all, manners kind of get away from you I guess… but given all that’s happened it has to be understandable.” He rambled on as he took out what looked like a broken Unicorn horn. “Oh, you’d be surprised at what those crazy kids in the HLF leave behind, but then again you’ve actually saved a couple ponies from them, so you must have some kind of idea.”

Yon-Soo slightly flinched and asked, “How do you even know that? I get you knowing my name at least because of my old job, but that? Are my squad and I like, famous or something?”

“No, not yet… but you might be if you’re lucky… also that’s because I came to the site, went there to see more lives that are messed up… because of me.” He sighed, a weary expression on display. “This whole thing is my fault; the poor mare… she was just a pawn of a great evil’s hand… ” He sighed again, putting the horn back into his vest pocket, Yon-Soo seeing a spell circle of some kind with a book in its center on his worn out tie. “Sometimes I wonder, what would’ve happened if I had tried to do something more back then; maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess or I could’ve had my mind eaten up too… hindsight is 20/20,” he rambled again, before taking another sigh and asking, “Any regrets so far, Yon-Soo?”

Yon-Soo felt like he had just had a brick dumped on his head, not really sure just how to process this… or just who this guy was. But he tried to focus on the question at hand, thinking for a second before finally answering, “If you mean I regret going into this war, no, I don’t regret that. I had a comfortable life and I could’ve just sat this whole thing out. But knowing what the stakes are… I couldn’t live with myself without at least helping. And I’ve seen the reports of those refugee camps and those Dead Ends, and I’ll admit, I’m glad I’m not in there. I don’t want to just lie down and let them trample over me and lose everything that makes me human. And I won’t lie, I do hate that I have to kill, but it’s kill or be killed, and I have to help my friends too. Porter, Hyong-Jin, Sergei, Khan, Ivan, Firebrand, Blizzard, Aquamarine and Comet… I can’t abandon them and I know they have my back too.”

The man gave a smile after hearing that answer, muttering, “Spoken like a true Equestrian, but in their eyes he’s a monkey and says that silly propaganda… now isn’t that ironic?” He refocused on Yon-Soo and said, “Well now, I think you really gave me the confidence I need, Yon-Soo; friendship is universal and you sir, have embodied its spirit more than what the Solar Empire has been preaching for the last few years.” He then took out a notebook and pen, asking “By the way, mind if I can get your autograph? It would make this all the more memorable.”

Yon-Soo laughed and went along with it, saying, “Sure.”

After the former celebrity finished signing, the man put his notebook back in his pocket, eagerly saying, “Ah, this will be something, Hyacinth will loooove that I managed to get her another celebrity in the notebook; she thinks your celebrities are beyond amazing. She’ll be buzzing for days!” he said, a bit enthusiastic over this whole thing… though Yon-Soo noticed the man’s nose starting to bleed. The man seemed to notice this too, wiping it away and looking at his now bloody fingers.

“Oh… that isn’t good at all, I’m almost out of time,” the man said, taking out a handkerchief from his dark blue jacket’s pocket and using it to dab his nose. “That’s a shame; hoped I’d be able to stay here longer, but I need to get going now.”

“Where to?” Yon-Soo asked him.

“Not here, if I stay here I don’t think the refugees will like the sight of me turning back… I better get back,” the man said, pocketing the handkerchief and then pulling out a silver collar-like necklace with a cobalt colored spell circle cut gem in its center. He gave Yon-Soo a smile and a handshake. “It’s a pleasure to have met you, Yon-Soo Park, and I wish you and your friends the best of luck with your endeavors.”

He then put it on, grabbed the cane that was right next to him, got up and started heading towards a door that led outside of the train car. He closed the door behind him, a subtle burst of light going off on the other side.

Yon-Soo felt the compulsion to follow him, wondering what he meant by that. He quietly walked when the man exited the back car’s door, closing it. Before Yon-Soo could open it, he noticed that there was a light coming from the other side which only lasted a second before passing. He quickly opened it, only to find the man gone; no trace of anyone… but before Yon-Soo went back in, he spotted a piece of paper, a strange language and weird symbols he couldn’t recognize written on it, laying on the floor.

‘What the hell was that all about?’ he wondered to himself as he picked the card up and pocketed it; there was a feeling that he should hang onto it.




Erenhot, on the Mongolian/Chinese border…

It had taken several hours, the darkness of night slowly creeping in and coloring the sky with deep blues, purples and blacks.

It had not been an easy trip, though the American PHL members assured them it would get worse. There had been a few half-hearted attacks, bullets slamming against the train, or a ball bearing from what looked to be an airgun. Once even an arrow, to Aitmatov’s utter disbelief. 

Sometimes there’d been RPGs, and they’d passed through towns that seemed entirely too unfriendly. They’d all been on edge, holding their weaponry at the ready, odd new PHL weaponry ready to be tested…

But it hadn’t happened, thankfully enough.

Everyone, human and pony alike, rushed to load the cargo into the next train. Erenhot was where the Trans-Mongolian Railway ended, and the Chinese national rail system began. Being built to different rail gauges, crossing the border required actually changing trains.

Now, as the last glimmers of twilight sparkled along the distant, open horizon of the Gobi desert, the last passengers and cargo were finally being transferred.

Assault rifle, this one a Kalashnikov cradled gently in his arms, Yon-Soo made a final check of the platform, inspecting each of the Mongolian carriages to make sure no-one had been left behind. Satisfied, he finally came to the head of the train, and paused to light a cigarette. He really wasn’t much of a smoker, but this was needed. And if you couldn’t smoke here, what could you smoke to?

“Too long… this took far too long,” he muttered between drags.

“Be careful where you stub that out,” Khan cautioned, joining him from the other side of the train. “You might set the whole town on fire. Lots of coal round here.”

Yon-Soo glanced down and saw how the dust and sand around him was mixed with pulverised black grains, and then looked across the tracks realised where it had come from: tens of thousands of tons of coal that had been piled up in a mile-long yard, awaiting freight trains that would never come. The Gobi was rich with the stuff.

“Thanks for the tip,” he said, burning the cigarette down to the filter and carefully rubbing it out against a carriage wheel. Then he considered the hulking beast marshalled at the head of the train.

The 2M62M locomotive that had brought them this far was a bulky and rather odd piece of work to his eyes, a huge double-ended monstrosity that looked as if two separate machines had been forcibly stitched together. Its age was reflected in the slightly chipped blue paint and even graffiti on several areas, as well as Cyrillic lettering that suggested it had been built in the former Eastern Bloc. It was nothing like the sleek white and silver bullet trains in Korea and Japan that Yon-Soo was used to seeing, but he found some irony in that a product of the Soviet Union had hauled everyone here to safety. 

He was certain that when they were on their last legs, they’d still be supported by Soviet equipment. Amazing how rugged it all was.

As he turned away he noticed something that had escaped him before: a symbol of two horses painted on the side of the locomotive’s body. He smiled, remembering the legend of Genghis Khan, and his twin white chargers.

‘Maybe a sign of some good luck coming our way…’ he mused to himself, before saluting the old monster a farewell and turning towards the more modern Chinese train that would take them on in.

And then he stared in shock as he saw the border guards.

“Well, that’s something new…” Khan said, looking just as surprised.

Griffons, actual griffons, were meeting them at the checkpoint. In general, they had the bodies of lions, with wings, forelegs and heads like eagles; their colors were more muted as well, consisting mainly of shades of browns, black, grey and white. The ponies (Comet and Aquamarine especially) looked rather uneasy around them, a feeling that seemed mutual. ‘I know what you are and what your species has done,’ their gazes seemed to say.

“What’s up with all of them?” Hyong-Jin asked. “I mean, they look big and intimidating, but I don’t think they’re gonna eat us or anything.” He then turned to the ponies and asked, “They won’t, right?”

Firebrand clarified, “Well, through most of Equestria’s history, ponies and griffons weren’t always on the best of terms with each other. Territory disputes and power struggles mainly. Plus, well, some ponies haven’t really gotten past the fact that the griffons are carnivorous. But then Celestia and Luna took the throne of Equestria and strove for more peaceful relations… at least until it all turned into the Solar Empire. Last I’ve heard, Celestia cut off all trade with the Griffon Nation and they’re really struggling.”

“They are,” Aquamarine confirmed. “Before Comet and I got out of Equestria, we heard rumors of food shortages and attempts at protests. Even the royal family was apparently struggling, and if I remember right, Queen Hedwig was on the verge of dying.”

One nearby griffon, who was clad in a leather jacket with holes cut in the back for his wings, and carried a few pistols and knives on him, grunted and interjected, his voice a guttural growl, “Even worse than that. Queen Hedwig died and King Tobias is barely able to keep order. Heard rumors he sent his heir to America to be cared for by the PHL. But yeah, Celestia also pulled back all of the weather control pegasus teams that were helping us grow what little crops we could. Anyone still stuck there is barely scraping by. Will only be a matter of time before the Tyrant goes after us like she did to the Reindeers and the minotaurs. Haven’t seen one of either ever since the manifestation...”

Blizzard’s features hardened as she spat, “Or like she’s doing to humanity. Wouldn’t surprise me if she decided to modify the potion to find a way to ponify the griffons, zebras, diamond dogs and buffalos sometime in the future.”

“Wait!” Comet then cried. “Then that means Sint Erklass is…?”

Yon-Soo’s (and every other nearby human’s) eyes widened at the mention of the name that sounded so close to Santa Claus, but said nothing. The filly’s eyes welled with tears as the realization dawned on her.

“Who is Sint Erklass?” Porter asked. “Sounds really close to…”

“Santa Claus. And of course, Sinterklaas,” Blizzard nodded. “In Equestria, we have a wintertime holiday called Hearthswarming Eve, which celebrates the founding of Equestria. Sint was the ruler of the Reindeer, and the bringer of gifts to all children in Equus. He raised Celestia and Luna when they were foals, and he is also the eldest being in the entirety of Equus that we know of. And he’s right. I haven’t seen any minotaurs or reindeer or dragons for that matter ever since the manifestation.”

“Queen Celestia killed the reindeer?!” Aquamarine cried in outrage. “How could she?! She literally killed happiness itself!”

"Because she doesn't care," Porter grimly answered with a shake of his head. "We have our tyrants and dictators all over our history to learn from. They’ll kill and enslave for any reason. Racial or cultural cleansing, wealth, power. Doesn’t matter who gets in the way or how many innocents are killed, or how much they betray their own philosophies as long as they get their way. This isn’t about morality for her; it’s about power and nothing else."

Comet sniffled as she looked out the window,  her mother gently nuzzling her to calm her down from learning the truth.

On Earth (or at least in Western society), the worst moment in a child’s life was to learn that Santa Claus wasn't real. In Equestria, it was the opposite - he was real and he was killed off because he was in the Tyrant's way.

'What a way to find out…' Porter mused to himself. He turned to the ponies and said, "Blizzard, Aquamarine, do one last round around the train. I'll stay with Comet, keep an eye on her."

"Okay," Aquamarine nodded, kissing her daughter's head before she trotted away with Blizzard. 

"Hey Comet." Porter reached down and picked the little filly and held her in his arms. "It will be fine."

"No, it won’t!" Comet sniffed, burying her face into his chest. "The Father of Hearthswarming is dead!"

The door open and Sergei walked into the room. "Hey, guys. Is everything alright?"

"Not really." Porter looked to the crying Comet. He leaned in close and whispered into Sergei's ear. "Santa is dead."

"What?" Sergei blinked in confusion. "Hey, sweetheart, you okay? My little sister senses went off and I came running."

"You have a little sister sense?" Comet sniffed, tilting her head in confusion.

"Yup!" Sergei replied, smiling as he rubbed her head. "Now what’s the problem?"

"Sint Erklass is dead and Hearthswarming is ruined forever!" Comet cried, looking up at the two men in despair. 

"Hey now, don't think like that." Porter gently tapped her chin up. "He may be gone, but what he stood for and represents is still here."

Porter gently tapped Comet’s chest, causing her to look up at in confusion. "I don’t understand," she said.

"He brought a lot to you, all those... Hearthswarming presents? Yeah, so what? Presents don't make the holiday, it is the ideal that makes it important." Porter gave her a warm smile. "What does Hearthswarming stand for anyway, Comet?"

Comet tried to dig into her memories of classroom lectures that she usually didn’t listen to much. She finally managed to scrounge up some and replied, “It stands for the unity and harmony of the three pony races. But everyone’s celebrated it.”

“Just like Christmas!” Sergei said. “Or kind of. Well, Jews and Muslims don’t, but it’s a religious thing. Well, Jews have Hanukkah, but it’s really kind of a minor holiday...”

“It is?” Porter asked. Then again, he hadn’t known many Jewish people...

“Well, Hanukkah just happens to coincide with Christmastime on the calendar,” Sergei explained. “So… people get presents because of timing,” he shrugged.

When Comet looked confused, Porter explained, “Well, here on Earth, we have a holiday kind of like Hearthswarming. It’s called Christmas, where we celebrate the birth of a man named Jesus Christ who was said to be the son of God.”

Comet’s eyes lit up as she said, “Oh, I remember hearing about Jesus while I was in Italy! I saw a gigantic statue of him being held by his mommy.”

“Right,” Porter nodded, going along with her. “Well, in many societies there’s also an icon of Christmas named Santa Claus. Like Sint Erklass, he would bring children gifts.”

“An icon? You mean Santa isn’t real then?”

“Well, he was based off a real life person. His name was Saint Nicholas; he was a man who gave children gifts on the birthday of Jesus, and was remembered as a friend of children by the Catholic Church,” Porter explained.

“He sounds like a good person,” Comet remarked. “And yet… Celestia thinks all humans are bad. Why doesn’t she see the good? It’s like she doesn’t even want to believe humans can be good, and she’s not letting guardsponies either! It’s like… she just can’t!”

She sounded genuinely heartbroken by her own question, and neither Sergei nor Porter really knew how to answer that. They decided to take a walk around to get her mind off the news, and maybe take in some of the town's sights, possibly for the last time in their lives before it was either destroyed in a battle or vaporized by the barrier.

For a while they took in local sights, and the trio came across some local police officers riding on horses, talking over megaphones as they kept refugees in check. It wasn’t lost on Porter that Comet (and many of the other ponies) looked at the horses with unnerved expressions.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“I don’t know,” Comet replied. “But horses from Earth… I can’t really describe it. They’re not like the newfoals, but there’s something weird about them. They look like ponies, but they’re not.”

Sergei nodded along, apparently understanding what she was getting at. “Uncanny Valley. It looks nearly completely like the real thing, but they’re not the real thing and…” he paused. It wasn’t easy to convey. “The way they’re so close just makes them miss that spark even more. Right?”

“Yeah, kind of like that,” the filly nodded along. “But still, they seem to be just better than newfoals.”

“Well, they look a lot different,” Porter pointed out.

The three of them shrugged as they continued on.





Yon-Soo put the large crate down as carefully as he could, relieved that it he didn’t hear anything crack or get shifted around too much. Their cargo was too precious and delicate to leave in any foolish hands, and he certainly didn’t want any art being destroyed.

This was far from a break, as it was easy to tell how cluttered and chaotic the town of Erenhot had been. There were PHL, Mongolian military officers, and local law enforcement trying to keep refugees (and really, anyone wanting to get out of here before things got really bad) in line.

He could see graffiti on the buildings nearby, some calling this the end of the world, others calling for repentance to God, others calling for Queen Celestia’s head on a stick. He could also see some flashy posters, some with pictures of apparently missing persons, others calling for people to join the fight against the Solar Empire, and the most curious of all, some with Chinese lettering. Going by his limited and simplistic knowledge of Mandarin, Yon-Soo could deduce that it was calling for mercy to the Solar Empire’s defectors instead of greeting them with suspicion.

Stranger than that, however, was a large graffito spanning one wall. It was done in red spray paint, featuring a monstrous vehicle that… might have been a train. It looked like a child’s drawing of a battleship, but placed on a set of rails.

Beware the Dreadnought, it said.

But they had finished the first round of loading, and it was late out now. The least he and his friends could do was to try to relax before they had to get back to work.

Melnik stood next him, a large crate held in his prosthetic arm as he waited for Yon-Soo to move.

"Isn't that a two man load?" Yon-Soo asked as he watched Melnik grunted and hefted the crate onto the ground.

"Yup. I figured I give her a test run. She can lift my sorry ass up easy enough, but damn it doesn't make lifting any easier." Melnik groaned as he rubbed his back.

"That is because you still have a normal back and legs, not prosthetic ones. You are still limited by your body, I thought you knew this?" Yon-Soo rolled his eyes as he pushed the crate to the wall before looking at the label. 

“Well… It was cool, and I wanted to see what it could do,” Melnik said sheepishly. “Looks like Masamune Shirow was right.”

“About…”


“Eh, before your time,” Melnik shrugged. “See… he was this cyberpunk manga-ka that made some of the best sci-fi, weaponry, porn, and mini mecha that I’d ever-”

“What was that last part?”

“Mini-mecha,” Melnik said. “He’d said that full-body prosthetics are probably a better idea, cause if I get something like this-” he flexed his left arm, wincing slightly, “Then I’ll still tear something if I lift too much.” he paused. “I wonder if I should get something for my spine?”

“You know, considering that there’s a lot of people that have had limbs amputated thanks to the potion, that’s a good question. Okay, last train car left....” Yon-Soo muttered, looking over the train cars. He stopped, staring over at Melnik.

He was silent. Not even continuing with what he’d been saying about cybernetic limbs.

Were Melnik a dog, something like a Siberian Husky or some other breed that didn’t seem too far removed from a wolf, his ears would be pricked up, his hackles raised. He’d slipped into an almost primal stance, his normal fingers dancing over the silenced, laser-sighted Stechkin pistol on his hip. His eyes darted from side to side.

“What’s wrong?" Yon-Soo asked.

“I don’t know…” Melnik said, unholstering the pistol, holding it in a one-handed grip in front of his face, aiming in the direction of one train car. Yon-Soo?” he asked, worried. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

“What do you mean?” Yon-Soo asked, ignoring the prickling sensation as his hairs rose on the back of his neck.

“... Got a real bad feeling,” Melnik said, eyes darting to every cloud as if there was a PER pony hiding behind each one. He shook slightly, and a drill unfolded from his left arm. “Come on, you…” He gasped. “Sonovabitch!”

“What? What is it?”

"The air... it’s fresh. The sky is clear and cool," Melnik whispered.

"Huh..." Yon-Soo blinked in confusion at his words before he took a deep breath.

The smell of coal was gone, as well as the small particles of dust and coal that hung in the air. The sky had a dusty atmosphere and had a stifling heat to it, now replaced with clear blue sky and a cool breeze.

Both men stared at the cool blue sky before they looked to one another, bolting to their superior. 

"Porter!"

They dashed through the railyard, bolting past lines and lines of train cars.





"Wow..." Comet stared at the  two large sauropod statues that appeared to be kissing.  "Were they really that large?"

"Some were even bigger," Porter said to Comet as she flew by Sergei's head. "Maybe even four times bigger than these two."

Her eyes lit up with surprise and wonder. "Whoa! Really? How come we’ve never seen any then?"

‘We should really get that old Jurassic Park movie...’ Porter thought to himself. “Well, that’s because they aren’t around anymore. The dinosaurs are extinct.”

"What happened to them?" Comet asked.

"No one really knows," Sergei said as they walked away to the main building. "The leading theory is that a large asteroid, a giant space rock, hit the Earth and caused their extinction due all the dust and fire."

"Others say that the climate of the world changed too quickly for them to adapt," Porter added. "No one knows for sure."

"Hey Porter," Sergei asked as he looked around in confusion, "Is it just me or did the weather turn really nice all of sudden?"

Porter looked around to realize what Sergei said was true. He wasn't alone as the dozens of people around them looked around as well.

The hairs on his neck suddenly spiked up, his adrenaline kicked in as he looked around before finally spotting what appeared to be a large storm heading their way. 

There was only one problem with that view.

It was heading towards them from the Gobi Desert, northwest of them.

Sergei looked around to see many of the residents pointing at the large cloud formation, fearfully babbling in Mongolian. "I... I take it this is not a normal event."

Whatever Porter was going to say died in his throat as something massive came flying out of the storm. Comet whimpered as several potioneer ships accompanied  the large ship.

"What the hell is that?!" Porter asked, taking several steps back. The ship was big. Big enough to put the zeppelins of Nazi Germany to shame, and bristling with what looked to be huge crossbows. There was a massive set of doors on the side, not entirely unlike bomb bays, and pegasi were quite literally pouring out.

"It’s a skyliner! The biggest airships ever created by hooves!” a nearby pony cried out.

Comet just simply said, “We’re fucked.”

"Hey! Watch your mouth, young lady!" Porter chided. “I really don’t want your mother to start washing our mouths out with soap.”

"Sorry." Comet rubbed her head with her foreleg. “But you know I’m right.”

"How many are there?" Sergei asked.

"I... I think there are ten of them," Comet said quietly. They covered their ears as the roar of Chinese jets flew overhead, heading towards Tyrant forces. There must have dozens of them, all of them releasing their missiles at the monster ship. “They’re probably making more. Daddy always talked about this new one from Trans-Equus lines…”

“The Monster?” another pony asked her.

“I don’t know what that is,” Comet said.

“Long story short, skyliner made in a pissing contest just to be bigger than the Great Equestrian. Luna help us all if that thing gets out,” the pony said. “Still, though. It has money troubles, so they’d have to put Celestia’s name on it to get it off the drawing boards.”

"There is no way they can handle that firepower." Sergei watched the ship kept moving forward. "There is no possible way..."

They watched as shields flared to life, taking the hundreds of missiles with ease, her shields not showing any signs of cracking before the final missile slammed into her.

She sat still, waiting for the jets to get closer while the potioneer ships fell back, her retaliation to the attack was horrifying. Plumes of magic and large crossbolts filled the sky, jets attempting to speed through found themselves in a flurry filled sky of death. China's proud fighter pilots were cut down, most exploding due to the piercing their armaments on board. Others lost power as spells took out their power, forcing the pilots to eject and fall into the hooves of waiting newfoal pegasus flocks.

Then the flocks turned and headed straight for them.

"Train. Now!" Porter roared out, the screams filling the air as they ran back to the station.





Many of the PHL rushed out, directing many people to the trains standing by to take them deeper into China, some even directing them onto the their own train for evac.

"What the Tartarus is that thing doing here?" a griffon growled out as he watched the group quickly load the last car.

"Causing havoc, what else?" a PHL unicorn mare growled as she lifted the last box in her magical grip.

"There are not enough trains in the yard! Please take us!" a Russian woman cried out, her child in her arms, along with dozens of others in a crowd that was growing in size. Doubtless, they were refugees from somewhere.

"There is not enough room. We can't take you all!" a soldier yelled. He clearly did not like having to do this, but orders were orders. "We can’t offload the items either, their importance to humanity is too grand!"

The woman looked like she was going to cry out in despair until several people got off train. An elderly man of Mongolian origin held up his hand, the group quieting down as he held out his arm to the child.

"The children... can go in our place!" he called out in heavily accented English, holding the crying child in his arms. He passed the child to a teen who was getting off with the group, only to be held back by the elder. "All children."

The teenaged girl protested in Mongolian, most likely refusing to go without her grandfather.

He turned to her and said, “I’m an old man who has lived his life out. You still have a full life ahead of you, Odval! Do not waste it! Now go!”

Odval’s eyes welled with tears as she hugged her grandfather and said, “I love you, Grandfather. I promise to protect them with my life,” as she grabbed the young toddler into her arms.

The crowd looked to one another before they quickly grabbed the children and pushed them forward.

"Go. Mama will always be with you!"

"Be brave, Bataar. Know that I will always love you."

The griffon watched in despair as the children began to protest when they realized their parents were not coming with them. Babies were crying as they were passed over the crowds' head with care and put into the arms of the older children getting on board.

"This isn’t right," he whispered, clutching his sword. "The stuff we have is just junk."

"It’s not our place to say. And you would not say the same thing if it was griffon relics," the unicorn said, causing the griffon to look away.

"We have room for a bit more!" A soldier called out, reaching down and pulling the mother onto the train. "All mothers get on board now!"

"Fathers! Defend your children and wives. Give them time to escape the devils!" the elder called out as he walked back to the city, many of the men nodding their heads and followed, grabbing any weapons, from old beaten up or even homemade rifles to newer models. Still, a few others ran, trying to escape the invasion on foot, or by any vehicles they could find.

Porter, Sergei, and Comet just arrived to see hundreds of men grabbing what they could to fight.

“You!” one man in a brown and grey camo uniform yelled over at Porter with heavily accented English. “Did you bring any weapons on that train of yours?”

“Certainly,” Porter replied. “It was meant to carry relics, but someone important figured a lot of people would need the things.”

“Good. We need all the help we can get. Kalashnikovs?” the man asked.

Porter nodded. “Any gun based on that platform that you can imagine, straight from every factory in Moscow before they were consumed.”

“Excellent! There’s people that don’t know how to shoot guns here… I’m sure that’ll help us a lot,” the man said.

"Over here!" They turn to see Melnik opening a car door and passing out weapons and ammo to the defenders.

"Come on." Porter pushed his way to the car and jumping on to help pass weapons out.

“Why, Lord, must we always be doom magnets?” Melnik sighed out loud, causing everyone to glare at him. “Oh, just try and deny it,” he said.

“Eh, he’s got a point,” Blizzard shrugged, looking off into the distance to see the former luxury liner dispatching more and more newfoals.

"Is there any way to fight that off?" Aquamarine asked with a mixture of terror and heartache, watching as the newfoals dove into the city, the sounds of screaming and distant gunfire filling the air. No doubt some of those were children, and being a mother made it even worse.

"We need the Navy for that," Porter growled, "they are the only ones that have the firepower to take an aircraft of that size that out."

"And we’re in the desert in the ass end of nowhere. Great," Firebrand grunted, watching as the ship drew closer.

Aitmatov had an… interesting look on his face. Strangely contemplative, yet horrified, but still intrigued. “Everyone, I have a really bad idea.”

"Which is?"

"Use the Fire Tornado."

"Uh..." Firebrand looked at the large invasion force before looking back at him. "No offense, but that won't do squat against the ship. Remember last time it got out of control?"

"It’s not for the ship. It’s for the city," Aitmatov clarified, causing the group to stare at him. "If this city falls to the Tyrant, it will be days before the information is passed to the world. By that time, thousands will still be heading here, and fall into their hooves. It’ll be a hole that trains just fall into, like that godsquabble trap from Railsea! And I don’t think I want Celestia getting her hooves on this much coal. Besides, if we lure the ship into the chaos and let it burn… we could cripple it! The force and the heat would turn it into a deathtrap!"

"It’s the only city around for miles!" Hyong-Jin growled.

“No matter what we do here,” Aitmatov said, “People will die or get ponified. If we have to sacrifice the city so fewer people die, then so be it.”

"We will be sentencing them to death by starvation! They have to go back the way they came, and they won't be the only ones." Hyong-Jin growled in frustration, his hands shaking at the thought of committing thousands to death.

"I don’t like it either Hyong-Jin, but as far as options go, we have no choice,” Yon-Soo pointed out, taking his binoculars out to inspect the carnage in the distance, shuddering at what he was seeing. “It’s either burn the city to the ground, or let the newfoals get themselves a stronghold in the way of thousands of other refugees, where they could add even more to their numbers!”

For a moment, everyone was quiet, taking Yon-Soo’s words in. The silence was then broken by the cheers and laughter of newfoals, singing songs about “uplifting humanity” and reciting scraps of nonsense poetry and corrupted scripture.

"How am I supposed to destroy the city? They could snuff it out within minutes!" Firebrand said, the idea of going along with the plan causing him to grow sick.

“We set up explosives all over the place,” Sergei said. “We’re in a town. Full of coal, probably at least one hardware store… I could rig up a lot of bombs if need be.”

"No no, that means running out into that death trap! We don't have time for that!" Porter said, before blinking at his words. "Coal? Wait, there is a lot of coal here right?"

"Yeah, entire train cars full of them." Sergei nodded his head, his eyes widening. "Okay, I think I follow. Firebrand's little flaming tornado got stronger last time he used it, right?"

"I think it was because it was feeding off all the fuel in the area. Gas and wood, and maybe even latent magic," Porter said, causing Sergei to snap his finger.

"And there is plenty of fuel and latent magic around now."

Comet looked at Firebrand and said, “We have to do this! All those people need to get out of here!”

"By killing people to spare them from a fate worse than death," Yon-Soo whispered solemnly.

"I think it is too late for that," Melnik said as he looked out the window, seeing the flocks growing closer.

"The train will leave in ten minutes. Cold start is not a good way to get this train going!" Their radio crackled to life, the conductor calling out.

"We don't even have five minutes!" Porter growled, grabbing his radio. "All units on the train, standby for defensive fire."

"Yes, sir."

Porter turned to the group and said, "Alright. Sergei, get out to those coal cars and rig them up. Firebrand, defend him until it’s done."

"Yes sir!" Both saluted and hopped off the train and took off to the coal cars.

“What do we do?” Yon-Soo asked, strapping on a couple grenades and taking out his K-7.

"We fight like rogue dragons!" Blizzard declared. "Lay waste to everything that threatens our horde."

Hyong-Jin grinned and said, “I like the sound of that!”

“Me too,” Melnik nodded.

“Alright,” said Porter. “Let’s go!”





"Hurry up!" Firebrand urged Segrei on as he set the incendiary on the gas tank.

"You know, I am carrying over twenty kilograms of explosives! If I do this wrong, we could be blowing ourselves up along with half the train yard!" Sergei fired back, hearing the sound of gunfire. "Aaaand done. Let’s do this."

"Too late. Train is moving. Hold on." 

"Hold on - whoa!" Sergei yelped as Firebrand grabbed him by the waist  and took off. "A little warning next time, hothead!"

"Sorry. No time!" Firebrand took off into the sky. "Porter! We're done! Coming back now."

"Negative! Area is too hot!" Porter shouted over the chatter of gunfire. "Newfoals are trying to break through the wall!"

"Got the bitch! I think you mean the area is surrounded by lava right now," Melnik called out.

"I can see it!" Sergei called out, seeing the train pulling away, bullets flying out of cars and taking out any newfoals trying to get onto the train. One new foal attempted to dive through the window when someone needed to reload, only for a light blue shield to appear to deny him entrance, bouncing off just in time to hit a pole that was passing by.

"Sergei, wait up ahead , preferably several miles ahead of us. Firebrand,  get in position and get ready to unleash."

"Yes sir!" Firebrand called out, flapping his wings to gain distance. "I hope this works."

"Me too. If not, we have a problem," Sergei called out, looking behind to see the newfoals covering the city. "A really big one."





Firebrand huffed as he got the distance he needed to set up. Now he needed the speed to pull it off.

Firebrand and the others debated about his ability to create this attack. How it grew bigger and stronger as time went on, but they never wanted to test it.

Now they were throwing the chips on the table and unleashing a potential citywide destructive force.

He saw the train cars in the distance explode into fireballs, giving him the go ahead.

"Alright. Go time."

‘Hope I’m ready for this,’ Firebrand thought, and shot off into the air like a missile, flying over the town. ‘Hope I don’t-’

He shut the thoughts out. He couldn’t think about this too hard. He’d make up too many reasons it wouldn’t work, and then, well, that didn’t bear thinking on.

He gritted his teeth. This had to work. 

It had to.

Ignoring the cries of the newfoals, and simply punching through the pegasi that tried to grab him, he made his way to the flaming cars and flew into a tight spiral, retracing his flight path at speeds that even Rainbow Dash would have been proud of.

“What’s he doing?!” one newfoal screamed as he was thrown back by the winds.

“He’s gone hysterical!” another yelled, and Firebrand silently wept for the future of Equestria if that was what they considered the ideal pony.

Had to go faster before they could stop him. He closed his eyes, head shuddering as he forced his mouth closed, as he flew in tighter and tighter loops. He could feel the heat building up inside and out. He wasn’t sure how Rainbow Dash must’ve felt when pulling off a Sonic Rainboom, but this was probably close, because he was going so fast, he was sure he could shatter glass with the resulting boom.

The air around him erupted into flames, the fire tornado in full force. Newfoals that tried to stop him burnt to a crisp, their voices lost to the swirling roar of flames.

Firebrand gritted his teeth and pulled out, throwing the tornado onto a path of the flaming coal cars.

He watched as the fire tornado drew closer to fires made by Sergei's bombs, his eyes widening as he saw the flames being sucked into the spinning vortex. The first train car was engulfed by the tornado and it exploded in size, he felt the winds slowly trying to draw him in.

"Oh boy..." Firebrand swallowed as he fled the scene, as several cars were absorbed.





“... What the hell did we just do?” Khan whispered, staring at the conflagration. The people on the train watched in silent shock as the small flaming tornado exploded in size once the coal cars were sucked inside.

“Mayhem and destruction on a grand scale,” Melnik said. “Just us doing us, Aitmatov.”

It reached the very sky, debris being sucked into the massive unnatural storm. The potioneer ships closest to it were sucked inside and ripped apart. Vehicles were quickly vacuumed into the tornado, the intense heat causing the gas tanks to explode and heating the metal chassis to red hot and flinging them back out at incredible speeds. Few potioneer ships that managed to survive so far found themselves in a barrage of flaming debris. A few even piercing the magical shields and shredding the balloons as they passed. Newfoals and humans were flung into the air and smashed into the ground or standing building.

And it just kept growing in size.

"What the hell did we unleash?" Porter whispered as he saw several objects, living and inanimate, being ripped apart, large tankers being lifted into the sky and flung away for several miles.

The firestorm grew out of control, and before their eyes a second tornado formed from the main body, snatching up bodies and debris and spreading the destruction, then another formed, and another.

The newfoals were trying to put out the fiery attack with rain clouds, only for the clouds to evaporate before it even got close enough to do anything. Clouds of smoke and ash filled the sky, overwhelming the cloud cover the Tyrant’s forces formed. The large skyliner drifted away, pegasi (newfoals, almost certainly) swarming out the side, pushing against the side of the leviathan supership, desperately trying to move it away from the vortex of heat and smoke.

It wasn’t working very well - numerous other refugees fired up into the flock of pegasi, taking potshots, the bullets overpenetrating anywhere from four to even ten of them.

At that same moment, a smaller fire tornado ripped through the city, picking up both debris and bodies as it drew closer to the skyliner. Her shields flaring to life to protect from the flames, pegasi were getting sucked into the wayward tornado. 

The ash cloud began to rumble, before a large bolt of lightning shot out and struck a potioneer ship, causing shields to break. Soon another bolt flew out struck the rear of the ship, causing it to explode.

Screaming pegasi were pulled into the fire tornadoes, the fur and feathers stripped from their bodies as the swirling vortexes consumed them. Cars and those few train cars that couldn’t be salvaged were ripped from the ground, tumbling through the air, the metal  almost melting...

And, horrifyingly, they were ramming into anything in the air affiliated with the Solar Empire. Old-model automobiles punched through the side of the Coming Dawn, a boxcar reduced a potioneer ship to bits of flaming powder, and a lump of rubble from one house flew through a window, smashing an earth pony on the Coming Dawn to red smears on the wall.

It would be described in the future as the biggest incendiary weapon ever deployed against the Solar Empire.

That was only the first five minutes.

The next five were worse.

War veterans always explained that to see hell on earth, all one had to do was to look at a city after it was bombed into oblivion and invaded.

What happened in Erenhot far exceeded expectations and then some. 

A true vision of hell, unleashed by a desperate team of defenders.





The city was in flames, the fire tornado had long extinguished itself and the former city of Erenhot was all but wiped out from the face of the earth. Rubble of buildings, vehicles, and burnt corpses laid everywhere, the tornado left nothing out of its destruction. Only a scant few buildings on the outlying areas of the city were spared, where few newfoals and humans laid huddled for protection. Barely ten bricks were left together anywhere.

A piece of stone moved as a newfoal pulled itself from the debris and looked up to the ash filled sky. A potioneer ship flew over, orders being called out by what few officers survived. Many were newfoals, and even the staunchest PETN among them blanched - newfoals rarely made for good commanders.

The ship captain scowled as he looked over the side, seeing the destruction and death of a city.

“Blasted PHL. I have to write up a report for the Queen to read about this disaster. They are getting too strong for their own good,” he muttered as he looked at the down former luxury ship. Many ponies were searching the wreckage, desperately trying to find items to repair the damage. 

“Sir!”

“Report.”

“Scouts report a long train convoy leaving the area of the train station to the nation of Mongolia,” the newfoal reported happily, “Several surviving converts reported that the train holds many children and rare human artifacts of importance. And more refugees with which we can bolster our numbers.”

His smile abruptly turned bloodthirsty, an unpleasant, unfamiliar sight on a pony.

"Maybe we can even get the buckers that destroyed our ship."

“Hm… Good. Gather all the healthy fliers, and I do mean healthy! I want them to be able to fly, not die halfway there! We will send a couple of ships after them and bring them back.”

“Sir, one newfoal said there is PHL on board the train.”

“Even better. Intelligence gathering is important. Now off with you,” the captain waved him away, the newfoal happily saluting and flying away. “Bloody idiot, good enough to soak up some damage at least.”





The train sped off into the desert, its wheels rattling against the old rails. The passengers, refugee and military alike, stared out its windows or over the tops of boxcars to check if they were being followed.

The sun was slowly making its way across the sky, slowly changing to late afternoon.

Blizzard Flurry stood on the train's roof just by Aitmatov, who was taking a knee with his SVN2015 up and ready. With an old PTRD below him, just in case. Both of them scanned the desert, looking for any signs of pursuers.

"We’re clear!"  Blizzard called down once Aitmatov lowered his weapon and gave nod, struggling to be heard over the dadagadan of wheels against rails.

Everyone within range of her breathed a sigh of relief, and passed the news on down the train.

For whatever reason, someone had decided this made for a great time to relax. Songs from the Griffon Empire, from Mongolia, from now-consumed countries rang out the length of the train, and people set to telling stories, watching movies and playing games on what electronics they'd managed to bring.

Aquamarine looked on fondly as her precious Comet leapt into the fray, finding a mixed group of human children along with the few foals and griffon chicks that were stationed in Erenhot to interact with.

It almost felt like... Like before. 

She figured she'd let Comet be a filly here. There'd be precious few moments for that in the future.

Thankfully some PHL soldiers had the foresight to have a few decently sized TVs on board for any bored passengers, and it was thankfully stocked with a system that streamed Netflix via satellite. There were so many movies and shows to choose from that it boggled the mind of the few ponies, and people, who never heard of it.

“What can we watch?” one little girl, who was probably at least seven years old and appeared to be of some kind of mixed heritage (Chinese and Mongolian apparently), asked.

Yon-Soo took a seat by Comet, scratching her ears and thought aloud, “Well something everyone of all ages would love… get me the remote.”

He turned to the queue, trying to look for something good. It took nearly a whole three minutes of slight frustration, but finally, he found the perfect film.

“How does Wreck-It Ralph sound to you?” he asked the kids.

A good number of the kids looked confused but curious, Comet most especially. “Is that a violent movie?” Aquamarine asked apprehensively.

Yon-Soo shook his head and replied, “No, not at all… well, a little but it’s not bad. It’s pretty cartoony, but very fun! I bet you’ll really love it. Maybe we can also watch Big Hero 6 after this if we have time?”

The other children shrugged and smiled, one earth pony colt nodding and saying, “I’m on board!”

One young Mongolian girl nodded excitedly. It seemed agreed upon, so Yon-Soo started the movie up.

It went by very swimmingly. The kids were generally entranced by the animation and colors, but the foals were mesmerized, never having the time to watch the shows of humanity during the war. Seeing something look so real, and yet so different at the same time blew their minds. Many of the references clearly flew over most of their heads, though curiously, a couple foals said they saw devices in Equestria similar to the arcade machines.

"Button would've loved this movie," one foal whispered.

And then came along a certain scene. Yon-Soo could hear Melnik whispering about wanting full body armor like the characters in the “Hero’s Duty” game, and also a plasma weapon. That could be useful admittedly.

“On a distant planet with no name, a top secret experiment has gone horribly wrong. You are humanity’s last hope.”

Comet whispered, “That music’s kinda cool. It’s so… awesome…”

“We are humanity’s last hope. Our mission: Destroy all cy-bugs. Ready, rookie? Let’s find out,” the lady soldier said.

“I wanna be just like her!” one filly exclaimed.

The music then turned louder as the action started up, and Comet’s eyes widened, watching on utterly mesmerized.

“While we let the kids watch, what about the rest of us keep out of their hair?” Porter asked around, only to see Melnik and Hyong-Jin ignoring him to sit with the kids, eyes wide with wonder.

Well, Melnik had his vodka still in hand, but was rather absentminded in his drinking while watching the movie. ‘Seriously… where is he getting those?! And how is he not shitfaced?!’ “Texas Hold ‘Em?”

“Five Card Draw,” Sergei said with a grin.

“Blackjack,” Khan said calmly, with Porter gaining a smile at it. 

“Deal, easy enough to teach to anyone wanting to play. Deal the cards, Khan.” Porter chuckled as they walked to clear a spare table.





"Blackjack," Khan said. 

"Do I... Do we owe you anything?" one woman asked, looking uncertainly at her cards.

"Think we've all lost enough," Khan said, idly wondering about things. Like his family… and his elusive father...

Who had that man been, anyway? And what was he doing now? Was he still alive, even?

"Everything alright?" Blizzard asked, looking at his face. That mare... She could read him like an open book.

"Sure, sure," Khan said. "I'm just worried. About my family."

He watched the scrubland go past. "Barely knew my father... I think he might be out here somewhere. He's probably a scumbag, but nobody deserves what the Empire's bringing. And my daughter, too, she's in America right now, and I just..."

Blizzard lightly slapped him on the back of the head. "You know how that usually ends. Besides, she's fine! We checked her Facebook last night."

"It's just that anything could happen there," Khan said. "Nowhere's safe, but she's just so far away! The HLF are out there, PER ponifying entire towns... I just wish I could do something, anything!"

"Hey," Blizzard said, one hoof over Khan's shoulder. "You're her father. If I know you, you would've raised her well."

"The girl can shoot," Khan agreed. "Did you see that Galil she got?"

"Thing looks like it could stop a truck," Blizzard said. "See? She's fine. You can message her when we get somewhere with wireless that isn't shit. Besides, you have another family to consider."

"But... I settled the paternity suits," Khan said, confused.

"Wait... Okay, never mind," Blizzard said. "Us. Mr. K-pop, Hyong-Jin, Porter, Sergei, Melnik, Firebrand, Aqua, Comet..."

"Cause of all the shit we've been through?"

"Yeah," Blizzard said. "Exactly."

"I think I understand then," Khan said, hands in her fur. "Thanks. I needed that."





The large man with wild hair fell from the grasp of the monster (whose design reminded the ponies somewhat of Changelings, but bulkier), falling straight towards the white dot below him. He gripped something in his hand as he fell, keeping his closed fist before him as he took aim.

“I’m bad... that’s good.”

He steadied himself, resolve faltering as he fell.

“I will never be good and that’s not bad.”

The emotions on his face clear, past regrets showing before he looked down at his enclosed hand. A cookie-like medal with the words ‘You’re My Hero’ written on it with frosting.

“There is no one I’d rather be…” His resolve fully intact, he prepared himself. “Than me.”

Comet sniffed as she watched the brave video game character getting ready to sacrifice himself for his friends. “He’s so brave…”

Porter smirked as he leaned over to Yon-Soo. “I still remember when this came out in the theaters. Been nearly a decade, and it can still make some people cry.” 

Yon-Soo blinked in confusion, following Porter’s gaze to see Melnik and Hyong-Jin tearing up as they watched the movie with Comet and the other kids, who were slack jawed with awe.

“Well… It did win a lot of awards that year for best animation and stuff,” Yon-Soo noted as he folded out of the game. The cheers echoed around as Vanellope Von Schweetz used her glitching powers to save Ralph from getting boiled in hot Cola lava and Mentos.

Melnik and Hyong-Jin were cheering with them, with Melnik doing so more drunkenly.

“You save the big diurak little girl! That is a true drook!”

As the movie wrapped up, the kids were now in much better spirits now, which brought a smile to the soldiers’ faces.

Comet was over the moon as she recounted her most favorite moments from the movie, squealing, “Oh, it was so great, every single part! I loved the Hero’s Duty part with the music! Like, it didn’t have any words, but it was so cool, like I could dance to it! And Felix was so cute and sweet too! And Ralph is so brave and awesome! Oh, oh, oh, and giant mountains made of ice cream! I wish I could live there, that would be awesome!”

It was just too darn cute to see her so happy and excited like this, and Porter nodded and said, “Well, kiddo, you’re in luck, because I do know who made that music you liked.”

“Wow! Really?!” she beamed. “Can you show me?”

Porter laughed and replied, “Sure thing. Personally, I've never been big into Skrillex, but my little brother was obsessed with that music scene. I think he still is…”

*SCREECH*

Everyone froze at the sound of metal tearing from above head, Porter looked up to see a large metal beam piercing through the roof. It split open, latching onto the roof, and ever so slowly they felt the car begin to groan.

"How'd they get so close?!" Porter raced to the window to see a Potioneer ship slowly begin to pull away, a long chain connecting to the ship side.

"Must have used an invisibility spell or something!" Aquamarine cried out, gently pushing Comet behind her as her horn flared to life.

“Get the kids out now!” Yon-Soo yelled as he reached for the nearest weapon. “Take out the chain! They’re trying to pull us off the track!”

The few mothers that stayed with the children began to usher several of them to the front of the train, with a few others picking up weapons and beginning to fire at the attacking newfoals.

“I got it!” Khan said calmly as he readied his SVN2015 and a VSS Vintorez. "Just need a minute to adjust."

“You have thirty seconds,” Porter growled as his shoved his Saiga shotgun out the window and pulled the trigger, splattering the newfoal.

"I've had worse," Khan shrugged, quickly setting his scope before taking aim, a small grin on his face as he looked through. “Sometimes, I wonder if this war is making the old days of war look like a simple clean up duty.”

Khan pulled the trigger. The 7.62x54mm round flew through the air, the unstable magic coating the round exploded the moment it hit the chain, destroying it.

The chain fell away from the ship, uselessly stuck in the desert sand. A newfoal looked over the side to see the chain gone and turned to bark out orders, only for his head to explode into a mix of blood, bone and brain matter as Khan fired his rifle once more. Practically point-blank range for the thing.

"I know I said my life had new meaning the first time a newfoal exploded, but it appears that there's no depth to the self-discovery," Khan said, firing again, reducing the newfoal’s head into some chunky salsa. "That right there's a thing of beauty."

The true sound of war exploded as the final two cars exploded into a firestorm of bullets as the PHL members and civilian defenders began to take out the flying newfoals. The train roared out as it began to pull away, if only just.

“Keep all newfoals from attacking the cars with children in it!” Porter ordered as he reloaded his Saiga, “Keep an eye out for any newfoals landing between the cars!”

“Captain.” Khan scowled as he took out another newfoal carrying another grappling device. “Those bastards are going to try again.”

“Why haven’t they pulled above us?”

“Newfoal captain,” Khan answered as he took aim once more and pulled the trigger once more, “Not a problem anymore.”

“Wait? You’ve been taking out newfoals on the ship itself?!” Melnik said in surprise as he punched a newfoal in the face, his Stechkin dropping newfoal pegasi like flies.

“Yeah. No shields on it. Say, there's another big potioneer ship heading our way, ten newfoals on it.”

Khan fired.

"Correction. Eight newfoals."

Another shot.

"Correction, five newfoals."

He fired again, this time setting the rifle to hyper burst, two rounds flying out the muzzle in quick succession.

"Correction. No ship." Khan watched as the shieldless and empty-decked potioneer veered away, slowly losing altitude before crashing, the ship falling apart from the destruction. He focused back on the original potioneer ship and began to fire once more.

“Focus on the other ship!” Porter order to the few soldiers with long range rifles, “Help Khan take out their deckhands!”

Khan’s eyes widened as he pulled the trigger, only to see the newfoal manage to load the grappling device. Another newfoal took over and took aim at the train.

“Watch out!” Khan roared out as another grappling dart flew through the air, punching through the open windows and out the other side. “Hit the deck!”

Everyone threw themselves on the ground as the heavy chains tore the car apart, ripping the roof off with ease.

“Fuck me,” Porter growled as he saw the evening sky above him. He sat up to see the potioneer ship quickly release the chain before they could be further damaged by it. It slowly began to speed up after them, coming up from behind them rather than from the side. “Take defensive position!”

"As per fucking usual..." Melnik sighed he readied himself.

“More fliers in the sky!” Firebrand cried out in surprise. “Bastards were hiding in the clouds!”

“If it’s not raining, it’s pouring!” Porter yelled out in frustration as he saw the sky filled with bodies. Firebrand and Blizzard were probably up ahead, trying to keep out of the swarm of newfoals. The true problem was the potioneer ship gaining on them, and appears to try and shove them off the track.

The train roared out as it hit seventy miles per hour, the conductor pushing the train for all its worth to escape the ship.

“Porter! We are with the conductor, it’s getting bad up here!” Blizzard cried out.

“Just hold-” Porter started to say when another voice popped up.

“Captain, they are hitting the roof with some sort of potion. It’s rusting the metal off!” one PHL pony cried.

“They're trying to get to the refugees!”

“We have to stop-argh!”

“They're trying to get the couplings of the cars! Protect what you can!”

“There’s too many of them!”

Porter wanted to scream in frustration. Dammit, dammit, dammit! So many things going wrong!

“Porter!” His eyes widen as he rolled to the side, feeling the floor shake as a newfoal slammed into the ground. The newfoal smiled at him as he tried to flap his wings to get Porter, only to get enclosed in a magic grip.

He watched as the newfoal was raised off the ground, slamming into several newfoals that were trying to land on the open car, then had his neck violently snapped and thrown away.

"You're not welcome here!" Aquamarine snarled, her dome flaring to life around her, Comet staying close to her, clearly scared.

"Traitor!" one newfoal screeched as he slammed into her shield, “You and your spawn will be taken to Celestia herself to be healed of these apes’ corruption!”

Aquamarine froze, her eyes fixating on the newfoal, her horn glowing dangerously as she bared her teeth at him, causing the newfoal to flinch at the look.

"You will NEVER..." she growled, "for as long as I live..."

The newfoal seemed to crumple under this verbal onslaught, the shield pushing against him....

"DO ANYTHING TO MY DAUGHTER!"

The shield swept forward, sending the newfoals careening off the train, screaming.

"You alright?" Porter asked Aquamarine, pulling himself up and shouldering his AK12.

"I’ll be alright," she said through several deep breaths. "That just took a lot out of me."

"We'll rest when they're gone," Porter said. "Right now, there's people that need us."

“INCOMING!” Melnik cried out, looking above to see the potioneer ship pulling ahead of them, large barrels falling off the side.

“Not on my watch!” Aquamarine’s horn flared, a shield appearing above the train car, causing barrels to break on impact, dosing the shield with potion.

"Anyone have a rocket launcher?!" Porter yelled.

"We can't do that, the back blast would be too str-"

A flurry of grenades spat out from a lone figure on the roof of one train car, the grenades arcing almost perfectly to hit the potioneer ship's gondola.

That'd probably be Sergei then, he watched as the ship shuddered before falling back,  seeing scores of crates, barrels and bodies falling out of the holes in the hull.

“Good job, Sergei. Save your stock, do it again when it tries it again,” Porter radioed out to him, sighing as he lifted his AK12 and took aim.

“I saw the big bastard when I took out a newfoal going after the couplings,” Sergei answered, pride in his voice. “And I thought to myself, look at that big target, I should do something about it.”

“Ha ha ha! Good thinking!” Melnik laughed as he drilled through the hoof of a newfoal trying to climb through the window, knocking him into another newfoal, sending them tumbling along the tracks... Only to be crushed underwheel.

“Alright! Second Wave incoming!” Porter called out as he cocked his rifle as he took aim at a newfoal, only to see him to be torn apart from weapon fire. 

“Second? I thought this was like, the fifth wave!” Firebrand replied with a chuckle as he landed, a newfoal tried to take advantage of his distraction, only to get sucker punched in the throat by Blizzard. “Thanks.”

“I think we need to discuss just how tired these newfoals look. They’re a lot slower than they look. Numbers is the only thing that is helping them.” Blizzard chuckled, “Did they really fly after us all this time? Poor tactical thinking on their end. Tired soldiers are weak ones.”

"Nah, that implies the Tyrant might actually care about her soldiers," Melnik called over.

"There's probably a deep discussion in there, but CAN WE FIT THAT IN LATER?!!" Porter yelled, firing three rounds into a newfoal's head.

"Right!" Blizzard yelled, jumping up, bouncing off the ceiling, and plowing both forehooves into a stocky pegasus newfoal with a build like an earth pony.

The train car erupted into a storm of flying lead, ripping apart any newfoal in their sight. Later on, stories from fleeing refugees will tell tales of the ‘Bloody Tracks’, miles of railroad tracks splattered with blood and corpses, most of them from pegasus newfoals.

“KEEP FIGHTING! HOLD THEM OFF!” Porter yelled over the sound of gunfire. The children had been moved into the cargo holds with the relics of humanity along with their mothers. “PROTECT THE CARGO CARS!”

“PETUCHAK!” Melink growled as a newfoal slammed into his shoulder, attempting to tackle him to the ground. He managed to take the blow, grabbing him by the wing and slamming him against the wall. He pulled his prosthetic arm back, shifting smoothly into a drill and nailing the newfoal in the skull, spraying fragments of skull, and a thick soup of brains and blood all over him. He quickly turned and backhanded another, the drill still spinning and cutting the newfoals throat with the blades. “OTVYAZHIS!

A newfoal with potion leapt at him, and Melnik whipped out his Stechkin, downing him with a bullet to the head. “DIE, DAMN YOU!” Melnik yelled, sweeping the Stechkin to the side, downing ten newfoals in each window.

Another one leapt at him, and Melnik’s pistol clicked dry. Shrugging, he shifted his arm into shotgun mode, and obliterated the newfoal’s skull. Three more newfoals jumped in the window, and Melnik downed them both, the magically enhanced buckshot from his left arm pulping them into a red mist that splattered over the ceiling.

And then that clicked dry.

“YOU MEANIE-P-” one newfoal started.

“AW, SHADDAP!” Melnik roared. “GIGA… DORIRU… BREEEEEEAKER!” shifting his arm back into a drill, he dashed forward, faster than the newfoal could comprehend, and punched his drill arm up into the newfoal’s throat. The drill whirred, dark blood spraying out from between his head and his barrel, wet lumps of bone tink-tink-tinking against the floor.

“...Really?” Porter stared as he reloaded, with Melnik only smiling.

“I always wanted to say that!” Melnik protested, kicking another newfoal in the face.

“Whatever, pay attention!”

A newfoal, whose fur was drenched in potion, attempted to throw himself into the few civilians that joined them in the fight, only to be denied as he bounced off a translucent blue dome. Aquamarine’s horn glowed dangerously, her teeth clenched as a second layer began to grow over her shield. 

“Aqua, what are you doing?” Firebrand called out as he kicked a newfoal trying to land on the rear of the train. Aquamarine scowled as she looked to the sky, seeing the scores of newfoals and the potioneer ship that was surely gaining on them.

“Giving us breathing room. Get behind me!” Aquamarine called as she reinforced her shield. Several soldiers ran behind her as another rush of newfoals dove at them, the potioneer ship now mere meters from them.

“RAAAAAAGH!”

A giant wave of magic exploded from her horn, and the newfoals slammed into the blue wall like birds flying into windows, bones cracking and blood splattering out. The potioneer ship, its shield unable to be regenerated after the battle in Erenhot, was hit by the spell. Aquamarine cried out as the ship shattered the barrier she put up; the sheer amount of energy she put into the spell was enough to cause the ship to pause in mid-flight.

A death sentence at the speed it was going at, from nearly 70 miles per hour to 0 in an instant. The laws of physics was denied to no one on that ship. Newfoal were thrown forward and slamming into walls or over the sides. The hull cracked as the ship came to a sudden, if brief, halt before it tipped forward from its own weight and the bow burying itself into the ground, slamming with a mixture of fiery explosions and frantic ponies. The ground behind the fleeing train shook as the ship broke apart as it tumbled across the grassland.

Porter and the rest of the defenders stared in shock as the potioneer ship broke apart, destroying the tracks and the ground behind them. 

“Jesus…” Porter whispered at the destruction before his gaze drifted towards the unicorn mare before him, unable to believe what he saw. Porter was all but sure that they had to get rid of all the newfoals on the ship and in the sky to stand a chance.

She stood tall and proud, a smile on her face worthy of Lyra herself as she looked upon the destruction she wrought upon. 

“I… I did it… I stopped them…”Aquamarine gave a heaving laugh as blood seeped from her nose. 

“MOMMY!” Comet cried out as she saw her mother collapse.

“Hyong-Jin, get medics over here!” Porter shouted as he rushed over to the downed unicorn. “Aquamarine, stay with me.”

“I… took down…”

“Yeah. You did, and saved a lot of people. Come on, girl. Stay with me.” Porter gently wiped away her blood. “Where is the damn medic?!”

A PHL pony medic, an earth pony stallion with orange fur and a black mane, knelt down next to her, quickly pulling out several needles. He took a look at her, frowning as he ran his hoof gently across her horn. Sparks shot off as Aquamarine gasped sharply, whimpering from the agony of her magical exertion. He gave a sigh as he gently laid her down and took out a bag of supplies. Porter recognized these as painkillers.

The medic nodded with a reassuring smile and said, “Don’t worry about your friend, Captain. She overexerted herself magically, but she’ll be alright as long as she gets some rest.”

“That was more like a magical overload,” Firebrand commented as he landed next to them, the shocked look on his face still present. “She took down a potioneer ship by herself.”

“I did too…” Khan muttered under his breath, to which Blizzard only giggled and patted his leg.

“No… not by myself…” Aquamarine whispered, gently patting Comet as she whimpered softly. “With my friends…”

“Right…” Porter whispered as Aquamarine slowly closed her eyes, causing Comet to panic.

“No! Mommy, don’t leave me!” Comet cried out as she shook Aquamarine’s body to keep her awake.

“It’s alright, Comet,” Yon-Soo said as he gently took the filly into his arms. “It’s just the medicine kicking in; your mother needs her rest.”

“Okay… I just hope she’ll wake up soon,” Comet sniffed, sighing with relief.

“Don’t worry, zvezdnyy. She will be okay. As are the rest of us,” Sergei said, one hand on his shoulder. “Everyone alright?”

*CLANK*

Everybody stumbled when the train car jerked at the sound, Porter was unable to keep his balance and fell, landing on the floor. He tried to break his fall, reflexively putting his arm out 

“Son of a-” Porter cried out as he wrist blazed with agony.

“Sir!” A PHL unicorn ran into the room, “The train car’s couplings had been rusted away!”

Porter quickly got up and raced to the other car, seeing that pony was speaking the truth. “Fucking A,” he groaned out, rubbing his head.

“Guys! We see you detached from us, we are going to stop-”

“Negative!” Porter interrupted, “At the speeds you are going now, it would take some time to even stop. Keep going with the mission, we’ll be fine. We will find the closest town and get an evac from there. We have enough food and water to last us two weeks, shouldn't take that long.”

“Are you sure, Captain?”

Porter looked up to see the determine faces of his team along with the remaining PHL soldiers and civilian defenders. He gave them a rueful smile as he answer. “We got this.”

“Roger, proceeding with the mission. Good luck out here, Captain.”

“Thanks.” Porter just grunted, wringing his wrist. “Ow ow ow ow ow…”

“Let me take a look at it, Captain Stanley,” the same PHL medic said as Porter held out his hand.

A Mongolian civilian woman, possibly in her thirties, replied, “I think we’ll all be be okay, but… where are we?”

That was a good question. They had managed to cross a good distance away from the Empire’s forces; far enough away from the desert that there was considerable greenery surrounding the group.

“Anyone?” the Mongolian asked.

“I think we’re near the border with China,” another Mongolian said. “Maybe somewhere near the Great Wall?”

“Wait. It’s somewhere green, which means we’re in very secluded territory, miles away from anything resembling civilization. I’m willing to bet all kinds of extremist factions have made hideouts around here. HLF, PER, maybe even people just trying to get away from the conflict,” Porter noted. 

“... What was that Melnik said about us being doom magnets?” Yon-Soo asked, trying to crack a smile.

Of course, he didn’t actually  need anyone to answer. It went without saying.

“So, unfamiliar territory where we’re far from even a modern toilet, check. Hostiles behind us, check. Stuck in the badlands, check, innocent civilians in the crossfire, check.” Firebrand groaned. “Can’t get any worse than this.”

Hyong-Jin grabbed Firebrand by the barrel, shaking him slightly. His voice was somewhere between angry, scared and unsure as he said, “Dude, don’t say that! Everytime someone says ‘it can’t get any worse’, it always gets worse!”

It was hard to blame either of them for being scared. They’d all heard the stories from here in this pocket of anarchy, of something emptying towns in single nights, of areas that PHL and military forces had essentially quarantined due to the chaos, of warlords and pocket tinpot tyrants running their own prisons for ponies and any human that they’d decided hadn’t met their standards, of villages that few PHL forces dared to liberate for fear of being attacked on three sides - from crazy refugees, HLF, and PER. There were even stories of more supernatural occurrences around here - maybe even ghosts.

But those were probably just embellishments. Right? Even so, you had to worry.

“Ahhh, what are we gonna do now?!” another refugee, a man in his twenties, asked in total despair. “What the fucking fuck are we gonna do? This is it, guys. It’s game over, man, game over!”

“We keep moving. Not much else to do but-

He heard the clatter of heavy, almost certainly stolen machineguns off in the distance, alongside heavy cannons. An explosion lit the space between several trees for a second.

“Nothing to do but to keep moving, and fight to survive,” Porter replied, looking like he was swallowing a lump in his throat to cover his own anxiety. ‘If I look scared, it’ll spread. Put on a brave face, everyone else does. Maybe then everyone will feel better.’

“Alright, we got a long walk ahead of us. Blizzard, take to the sky and try to locate anything man-made. Town, powerlines, hell, I will take the Great Wall. Just get us in the direction we need to go. The rest of us, gather food, water, and ammo. Try to see if we have any spare body armor for our civilian defenders, and make sure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. Night time is approaching and we are sitting ducks in this train car, I want to get under some sort of cover before we are found by unfriendly forces. Move out!”

Still. The anxiety was irrepressible. There was a particular horror in being in unknown territory, a sense that no matter what you do, you barely have a chance of finding shelter. It would have been bad enough while camping, but in the middle of a warzone where it shifted by the hour…

He couldn’t think about it too hard. That would really screw him over.

“We have to go soon, though,” Melnik whispered to him.

“What do you-” Porter started. And then it hit him. The train stalled on the tracks. The heavy fire. The potioneer ships. The bright neon glow of magic in the dimming sky.

Fuck.

“Exactly,” Melnik said, noticing the look on Porter’s face. “Someone’s bound to have noticed us.”

“We have to go,” Porter said, as commanding as he could be without yelling out and directing everyone to their position. “Right now!”

What would they find in this forest, he wondered…

Whatever it was, he hoped it wouldn't find them first.

> The Face of the Enemy
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 10: The Face of the Enemy



Editors/Cowriters


Redskin 122004


Doctor Fluffy


Vox Adam



Prereaders
Jed R
Rush


The woods all around them weren’t that tall, and yet they seemed far darker than anywhere the team had ever been. And they were quiet – all but the smallest animals had left the place. Yet in the distance, the slowly marching group of humans and ponies could hear the constant percussion of artillery, and the bizarre reverberating thrum of spells in the air. Hundreds, maybe thousands of guns and spells going off in a myriad of pointless battles.

A flash lit up the night sky nearby, and they all jumped.

“... Out of range,” Yon-Soo said, trying to console everyone, not least himself.

“What the hell was that?!” Hyong-Jin hissed.

One Mongolian woman, her name Altan, spoke up. “HLF airplane, I think.”

“The HLF have air support?!” Porter hissed back to her.

“We’ve seen them before,” Altan stammered. “They don’t attack the railway though… most of them are probably repurposed crop dusters th–”

She stopped before the tree.

A man was strung up upon the branches, a knife wound to his throat, dried blood oozing onto his lightly shredded armor. And nailed into his arms crossed across his chest, there was a sign painted on some boards. Through the dried bloodstains, they could distinguish the lettering, the same words written over and over in Mongolian, Chinese, Russian, and English.


Dead ponies. Dead horsefuckers.
It’s all the same to us. STAY OUT.
– The Human Liberation Front


Altan’s voice was soft. “We should get him down,” she said, as the other civilians prayed for the man hanging before them. Khan moved to inspect the corpse.

“Huh,” he said, “Looks like they tried taking the armor for themselves. Shit, this ‘ere is PHL enchanted armor.”

“How can you tell?” asked Sergei, only to palm his face when Khan pointed out the blue-on-white PHL logo stitched onto the hapless man’s shoulder.

“Still, if these HLF tried to take off his armor, they failed spectacularly at that, so they just left him here as a warning for any other PHL members coming this way.”

Porter waved away several nervous civilians. “Everyone, stay sharp. We may not be alone in these woods.”

“Over here!” someone called out from their left. It was Aquamarine.

“Hyong-Jin,” Porter told his fatigued-looking comrade, “You and Firebrand stay back here with Sergei and the little one. The rest of you men, follow me.”

Yon-Soo, barely sparing a glance for the look of relief on his friend’s face, could only frown as he went after Porter, Blizzard and the two Russians to the sound of her voice. And then he gasped.

“Well…” Melnik blinked in shock, as they stared at the large clearing covered scattered with body parts. “The poor devils took a lot of them with them.”

These corpses were different. They were a mixed lot. One HLF man, wearing armor marked with the sigil of a red tiger, and studded with trophies – pulled-out teeth, a necklace of horns, a belt with a couple of torn-off wings – lay slumped against a tree, the top of his head missing. Which might have been a good thing, considering that he’d been halfway through ponification, clumps of fur bursting from under his skin in almost tumor-like bumps. The means of his escape had been a battered Kalashnikov, which still lay pressed to the stump of his jaw.

Melnik shook his head at the sight. “Must’ve been one unlucky bastard.”

“What do you mean?” Yon-Soo asked.

“HLF are desperate, lad. This man was either part of a battle the HLF had to run away from, so they couldn’t scavenge his body, or he got fucked over on a scouting mission.”

“And obviously,” Sergei added, “It’s from potion, likely PER. They’re right slippery fucks.”

“Great. Another thing to watch out for,” Aquamarine grumbled, rubbing her horn with her hoof. She’d recovered a great deal since the battle on the train, but the medic, a stallion named Stable Condition, had advised against her using magic for a while so as to not risk an aneurysm.

Besides, seeing this was enough to bring enough the warning signs of a splitting headache. Thank Luna and Lyra that Comet had stayed at the back of the group in Sergei’s care...

“Come on,” Porter called out in a hushed tone to the others. “Let’s get away from this area. Scavengers of every walk of life won’t be far from here. I don’t feel like getting in a fight when the enemy has home turf advantage.”

“Eh, might as well take what we can get,” said Melnik. He walked to the hanging PHL soldier, cutting the rope that held him up. “After all, no need to leave our friend here strung up like a fucking piece of meat.”

The others grimaced as he searched the body, taking out several unfired magazines and a new knife for his collection, but they silently agreed and spread out across the bloody glade. The civilians watched as the group swept the dead for weapons. Some of them gagged at the blood and the stench, yet they held their tongues. It wouldn’t do to complain. The dead had no use for weapons or ammunition.

“If only,” Blizzard Flurry sighed as she removed an assault saddle from a dead PHL pony. Involuntarily, she wrinkled her nose. As far as she could tell, this was the only other PHL member out of all the bodies here.

“What do you mean?” Aitmatov asked her.

“You guys get enchanted gear, but these guys....”

“Supply lines must have been too hard to maintain,” Aitmatov realized, “They just got killed by HLF out here. Barely any Imperial forces, just a bunch of scared petuchaks with guns…” For once, Aitmatov’s age began to show in his eyes. “What a goddamn loss.”

“Sorry, my brother-in-arms,” Melnik whispered as he covered the two dead PHL with surrounding foliage, “This is the best I can do. But it is a hell of lot better than to leave you with these other pricks in the open. Your soul will be at peace.” He paused to remember the words. “Год оур Фатхер, Ёур повер брингс ус то биртх, Ёур провиденце гуидес оур ливес, анд бы Ёур цомманд ве ретурн то дуст…”


- - - - -


The tension was thick in the cool night air.

Standing guard, Yon-Soo admittedly felt tired, exhausted even, but he couldn’t sleep. The slightest noise, be it a gust of wind or a cricket chirp, would set him on edge.

It was much the same for everyone. Melnik was shifting his mechanical arm from drill, to shotgun, to hand again, gripping a shotgun like a lifeline, shouldering it and unshouldering in the space of a second. Aitmatov stared through the night vision scope on his VSS Vintorez, softly whispering to Blizzard to keep her head down, lest the wrong people find them. Blizzard, however, looked jittery, obviously wishing she could stretch her wings. Hyong-Jin and Firebrand were vigilant, even holding back yawns on a few occasions.

He looked to see Porter take a seat next to him, giving him a nod.

“We’re clear right now,” said Porter. “Still, we gotta stay alert. So much could be out there…”

“Don’t remind me,” Yon-Soo groaned, rubbing at his eyes.

The visualization of a soft bed full of fluffy linen pillows and a down comforter with the feel of marshmallows came to his mind. He kicked the sight out of his head, trying to stay focused on the here and now. Besides, everyone else was probably thinking about a nice warm bed, too.

He almost wished that Newfoals, HLF, anyone would attack. Just for something to happen. But nothing did. The short, dry forest was, as far as anyone could tell, empty all around them. The HLF and PER had moved, shifting ever so gradually in a battle that would likely last until the day the Barrier came this way.

Careful not to yawn, Hyong-Jin moved to lean against a tree next to them, methodically reloading his Kalashnikov with a magazine of HEIAP rounds he’d taken off a dead HLF man. Good stuff, but also further cause for concern. These rounds’ rarity suggested they were dealing with elite HLF in the vein of North America’s ‘Thenardier Guards’.

There was silence for a few seconds as Hyong-Jin, Porter, and Yon-Soo – the original three of this little team of misfits – sat together by the same tree. At Aitmatov’s suggestion, they didn’t have a fire, instead keeping themselves warm with a passive charm from Aquamarine that infused the ground in the immediate area with heat.

It was a spell, the unicorn had explained, which was created by Twilight Sparkle herself during the Crystal War when they began to push to the Frigid North, and it was fortunate that the insane pony left the spell open for the public to use after its creation.Still, it felt weird to use something created by a mare who wanted them either dead or braindead.

At last, Porter broke the silence.

“If we don’t make it out from this alive… there’s something I want you two to know.”

Yon-Soo raised an eyebrow at that. The cryptic tone in Porter’s voice both worried him and piqued his interest. “What is it?”

“Well...” Porter said, “I really owe you two a lot for what you’ve done for me.”

“What do you mean?” Yon-Soo asked him. “If anything, we owe you for everything you’ve done for us. You saved my life at the DMZ, helped train me and Hyong-Jin, and always watched our backs through all this.”

“Yeah,” Hyong-Jin added. “You had every right to just kill me, or even abandon me in the DMZ after I tried to kill you two. But you let me come along, taught me how to really fight and gave me a chance to prove myself. You gave me the opportunity to help people and do good. And I’ve got to meet some of the best friends I’ve ever had.”

Porter sighed and began to smile, replying, “I guess that’s true. But… well, you guys actually helped keep me sane through all of this too. You see… Eun-Hee’s ponification at the press conference… it was my fault.”

Yon-Soo’s eyes widened, and he began to shake like a ragdoll. He opened his dried-out mouth to try speaking, but closed it, unable to figure out what to say. Or how to process this.

Hyong-Jin did manage to get a word out. “What do you mean, her conversion was your fault?” He too looked shocked and scared.

Porter, rapidly blinking to hide his moist eyes, answered. “I… I encouraged her to go to Switzerland. The top heads at KBS News were considering sending her to Berne to cover the press conference, and maybe even get an interview with Celestia. She was actually… kind of uneasy about it, but I told her that she was probably just being paranoid, this could even be the ‘big story’ of her career right there. Eventually, Eun-Hee agreed and packed her bags.”

Despite his best efforts, Porter couldn’t hold back the tears that spilled from his eyes.

“If I’d known then what would happen,” he choked out, “believe me, I would’ve told her not to go. It’s my fault she got turned. For all I know, she’s probably already been killed… or she might still be alive in the Empire. Regardless, it’s all my fault, and I have to live with this.”

For a moment, Yon-Soo remained quiet, thinking. He finally found his voice.

“Look, Porter, there was no way you could’ve ever known it would end like this. I don’t hold anything against you… and honestly, I don’t blame you for anything.”

Porter looked at him, a sad half-smile tugging at his lips. He shook his head and sighed.

“You really are one of the nicest people I’ve met, Yon-Soo. Anyway, continuing on... when Eun-Hee was ponified, I was so angry with myself, but that was nothing compared to how much I hated Celestia. I just wanted to make her, all of the Solar Empire, pay for what they did. I really could’ve become like your run-of-the-mill HLF member, or hell, just join them altogether. And knowing how they are… it’s lucky I didn’t go that far.”

Both Yon-Soo and Hyong-Jin shivered, the latter evidently from a mixture of understanding and slight embarrassment.

“I know what you mean,” said Hyong-Jun. “It’s lucky I never went crazy, and I owe a lot of that to you guys, and especially Firebrand and even Commander Renee and Ambassador Heartstrings. What kept you from taking the fall, though, Porter?”

Porter shrugged. “Three things, actually. The first was plain military discipline. I knew it just wouldn’t end well for me, going off the handle and just fighting for revenge like a whackjob. The Marines would bury me in the deepest, darkest hole they could find if ever they saw me do what the HLF does.”

His friends each grimaced at the memory of the day’s find.

“The second was my family. I called them about an hour after the conference and told them everything. Dad told me not to let myself get carried away, but it was actually my little brother who told me – no, more like begged me, to promise them I wouldn’t do anything stupid. I can’t stand them worrying about me, so I promised I wouldn’t do anything that would get me potioned… or make them turn away in shame.”

“And let me guess,” said Yon-Soo, “Hyong-Jin and I are the third reason?”

“Yeah,” Porter answered. “You guys really helped to keep me sane in tough times. When I promised that I’d help train you, I realized I had a responsibility to you both. So I just focused on that. I would lead by example, and teach you everything it takes to stay alive. And watch your backs too. I don’t want any more deaths on my hands. It’s selfish, I know, but… it’s really helped.”

“That’s really not so selfish,” Yon-Soo reassured him. “You did help us both, Porter. And we’re glad you did.

Hyong-Jin nodded. “Yes, we are.”

“And if we really did help you, well then, I’m glad at least I repaid you.”

“So am I,” said Hyong-Jin.

“Hey guys,” Firebrand piped up, walking over to the three of them. “Anyone seen Comet? Aquamarine is looking for her, and me and Melnik haven’t seen her for the past ten minutes.”

“No, haven’t seen the squirt at all,” Porter said after a moment’s thought. The Koreans also shook their heads.

“Damn it, maybe Ivan found her,” Firebrand began, only to stop at the sight of Melnik stalking in their direction, looking distinctly worried. “That’s not good.”

“Firebrand,” Melnik pleaded, “please tell me you found her. Aqua’s busy going nuts looking for her daughter without screaming and giving away our position.”

“What the hell?!” yelled Yon-Soo, “She’s not with you?” The sudden burst of dread and fear drained away all lethargy from his body.

They all met eyes.

“Oh,” Porter said in English, “Shit,”

Nobody needed a translator.


- - - - -


Initially, Comet had to go to the bathroom.

But then, she’d heard something strange off in the distance, like ragged breathing. And then, after inching through the trees she’d found… it. The first one since fleeing Equestria with her mother.

This pony could not be mistaken for anything other than a Newfoal. No cutie mark, eyes glassy and unblinking, still smiling despite his horrible injuries. His fur was burnt off in several places, the left ear looked sliced away, and both his hindlegs were a pair of burnt stumps. There was a huge splinter as well, shrapnel taken off the trees, thick as Aitmatov’s thumb, buried in his flank.

He was crawling through the forest, a feat she’d have found admirable if not for how sad and unsettling it was. What happened to him, and how did he managed to survive this long? Those were not questions Comet really wanted to know the answer to. Did the potion remove the ability to feel pain along with your free will?

An urge came over her. A sudden and irresistible urge to go up to him.

As Comet approached the Newfoal, his eyes lit up when he saw her. “Little one, help me,” he croaked. “We must get back to Equestria… we must report to our Queen… the apes have corrupted our brethren. They have weapons with magic crystals…”

She frowned at this, wishing to know more on what the Newfoal was speaking about. Uncle Khan and Uncle Ivan liked to say that information was power, and that kind of power could help them if she got the right info.

“What do you mean, mister?” Comet asked innocently, careful to keep a few meters between her and the mutilated Newfoal. “Why do you look all hurt like that?”

“It’s not… safe here. Tried to… help the humans… like the ponies helped me. We must leave… Information is vital… to the lovely Queen.” He coughed, but Comet only smiled.

“It’s okay! You can trust me~!” she sang out, giving him a bright smile. This seemed to invigorate the stallion as he smiled back, unmindful of the fact that his injuries should have, frankly, killed him. Sergei always did say she could rule the world with a cute face, smile, and winning personality. “I can pass it along~!”

“Four humans and a Betrayer arrived… they found our base. We tried to uplift the humans and capture the Betrayer, but they were too strong. They had weapons that could get past our shields… my poor friend Jiang was dragged by his feet before he could take the potion… those savages murdered him! I’ve lost too many friends… Oh, poor Nutmeg especially.”

“Focus,” Comet told him. She’d heard about that incident from two years ago, when two vicious HLF members had stabbed a PER ‘squire’ called Nutmeg Morely to death with a ceramic rat and hung her upside down from a lamppost, but that was besides the point. “What were the weapons like?”

“Their guns… our corrupted ponies helped them… Made it impossible to take the weapons away, destroy their protective armor...” He coughed, blood splattering the ground.

‘Sounds like PHL soldiers. HLF don’t have anything like that...’ Comet thought, a curious look on her face. “What happened next?”

“They were slaughtering our humans, waiting to be converted by the light of Celestia… Destroyed our potions that were made to help them… Then more humans came...” he groaned as he looked up at her, the smile still in place. “They started to shoot them in the back, wearing our dead like trophies… But they were easily made to change their mind through the light.”

‘Okay, those would definitely be HLF then.’

“We managed to turn the tide, but they set explosives… destroyed our base,” he said quietly, looking to the south. “I still live though, I can still be of use. I know where those lost from our guiding light are headed.”

“Where?”

“Near the wall, the so-called ‘Great Wall of China’,” he spat, sneering somewhat. “But they are simple brutes, those Human Liberation Front. Not a concern for the PER… No, the ones we were searching for are those Ponies for Human Life. They’re somewhere in the area… They assaulted our base, led the HLF to us so they could kill us both in one fell swoop…. But there’s another base for the PER, several minutes from here. Once we get there… we can finally purge the forest.”

“Why?”

His smile grew cold and chilling. “Cos’ I know where they are staying. An abandoned town called Huade. No pony stays there due to the conflict, but they do apparently.”

Comet rubbed her chin, memorizing the name. “Huade, huh?”

“Yes, they live underground like roaches. Funneling people and Betrayers alike. I’d hoped to make it to the other base of operations, but my wounds are too severe. Fortunately, I wasn’t the only one to survive, there are others making their way there now!”

He smiled serenely at this. “Once we get to the base, we will bring the town and its inhabitants to the light, take the Betrayers to be purged of the apes’ taint, and bathe in the glory of our deeds.”

“Huh? I didn’t know that! Thanks, mister! But there is one problem.” Comet’s eyes narrowed as her smile was replaced with a scowl. “They’re my friends, and if you or anypony else calls them ‘apes’ again, I’ll rip your tongue right out of your mouth!”

“You were corrupted too?” the Newfoal cried, plastic smile unwavering. “Don’t you worry, little one, I’m going to make you see the light!”

Comet just shrugged, blissfully. “I’d like to see you try!”

And then another thought came to mind. It was both a horrible and awesome idea at the same time. Plus, she had been admittedly wanting to say it for a while. Without her mother around, she could let the words fly out and not risk getting any of her uncles into trouble.

So she took a deep breath and fired off. “Queen Celestia’s a slut! She’s so fat, Obi-Wan Kenobi called her a space station! Twilight Sparkle sucks dick in Tartarus! Rainbow Dash licks donkey piss!”

The Newfoal tried to jump, clearly wanting to dig his hooves into her skin. Even though she stood only a couple meters away, Comet wasn’t scared. He couldn’t do anything to her. It actually felt good to let out her anger towards the Tyrant, the ‘Bearers of Harmony’ and the Newfoals and everything bad that happened to her and her family onto this mockery of a pony! Plus, it was kinda funny seeing him pathetically hobble in her direction.

“You… you little dunderhead!” he screeched. “I’ll drag you to Equestria myself… and give you to the LIGHT!”

Comet began to sing-song. “Nope, never in your wildest dreams!”

“You’ll be happy! Humans bring NOTHING but suffering!”

“Oh, come on, try it!” Comet taunted him. “Oh, you’re so… big, and, and strong, getting sent into towns to turn families into zombies!”

As the Newfoal kept trying to crawl at her, she got another idea. Newfoals scorned virtually anything associated with human culture. It was virtually like nails on a chalkboard to them, more than any amount of blood loss. Time to test how deep this ridiculous hatred went.

Her sing-song tone took on a new tune.

“In the middle of the earth, in the land of the Shire, there's a brave little hobbit whom we all admire. With his long wooden pipe, fuzzy woolly toes, lives in a hobbit-hole and everybody knows him! Bilbo, Bilbo, Bilbo Baggins! Only three feet tall! Bilbo, Bilbo, Bilbo Baggins! Bravest little hobbit of them all!”

She sang as best as she could, watching the Newfoal shake as he begged her to stop. He bemoaned how the humans had corrupted the poor little filly into a little monster. Comet stifled a giggle as she kept singing.

“Now hobbits are a peace-lovin' folk you know. They're never in a hurry and they take things slow. They don't like to travel away from home, they just want to eat and be left alone. But one day, Bilbo was asked to go on a big adventure to the caves below, to help some dwarves get back their gold that was stolen by a dragon in the days of old!”

“Make it stop! Please!”

Comet gave him a nasty grin as he covered his ears.

“What are you going to do to stop me? Bleed on me?” she laughed haughtly, bouncing out of reach. “You're pathetic. Nothing more than a nasty zombie!”

“I’ll heal you! I will–”

Comet spotted something small and sharp flick past her field of vision. She blinked as his right eye twitched, before he slumped down, an arrow sticking out of the back of his head.

Gasping, she opened her wings and crouched, trying to remember what Firebrand and Blizzard taught her.

Several figures slinked out of the forest, including a woman with a bow in hand. It was the most advanced-looking bow Comet had ever seen, the words ‘Carbon Knight’ stamped on it. The woman held another two arrows in her free hand, ready to notch and fire at a moment’s notice.

The woman gave the filly a small smile, and lifted her finger to her lips for silence. “Shh! Come with me, értóng,” she said in a hushed voice, setting the bow on her back. “These forests are not safe.”

“No!”

Comet fluttered out of the woman’s reach, landing on a branch overhead. “You could be some sort of cannibal!”

“Quiet!” hissed a voice from behind her. The filly squeaked as a pegasus male landed on the same branch as her. “You’ll give away our position, you loudmouth!”

Feeling more scared than she’d been of the Newfoal, Comet barely managed to fly away from the strange pony, looking down to see more people enter the clearing. Some of them ponies, but mostly humans. A few took the time to kicking his corpse after the woman reclaimed her arrow.

“Come, értóng,” the woman called out again. “We are going to a safe place,” the woman called out again.

“Nope!”

Fluttering wildly, Comet barely avoided the scowling pegasus’ dive to capture her. “My Mommy’s still out here! And my… my…”

The woman blinked. “Your what?”

“My… family!” Comet said after a second’s thought

Yes, that was right. Her family. Mommy, Uncle Porter, Uncle Yon-Soo, Uncle Hyong-Jin, Uncle Ivan, Uncle Khan, Uncle Firebrand, big sis Blizzard, and big brother Sergei! They were family to her!

“They’re here too! And they won’t like it if I’m talking to some strang– AH!” She squealed as, nimbly coming in from below with an upwards dive, the pegasus tackled her.

“Gotcha-ya!” growled the other pony. “Quit squirming already, sheesh!”

“Let me go!” Comet cried out, struggling. “Mommy! Sergei!”

The pegasus just held her tighter. “Shut up, dammit! You want to bring down the entire forest on our heads?”

A clicking sound echoed across the forest floor.

“How about you let the filly go,” growled a male voice, “And I don’t put a bullet in your head?”

Comet felt the pony’s grasp freeze up around her. “Sergei!” she cried out, happy to see her ‘big brother’. “Now you’re in trouble, mister!”

“Let the filly go,” Sergei repeated, slowly emerging from the bushes. “Or I’ll put a nine in your head.” With a flinch, he realized his mistake when everyone in the group pointed their own weapons at him. Grunting, he pulled out the M320 from his waistband. “I wouldn’t if I were you, High Explosive round will ruin anyone’s day.”

The woman looked at him darkly. “You are outnumbered and we are spread out,” she whispered, notching the loosened arrow and pulling the bowstring back, aiming at his head. “You will not survive the conflict.”

“Oh? Well, I may not get all of you,” Sergei said with a big smile. The woman tensed as she noticed Comet’s own eyes and smile grow wider. “But I do have you outgunned and surrounded.”

She turned, and swore as she saw several more people sneak up on them. One of the men, a very familiar man to Comet, even grabbed an AK from one of her people and crushed it in his grip.

“Dangerous toys are fun,” said Melnik. “But you could get hurt.”

He threw the remains of the weapon aside, his arm shifting into a drill and pointing at the woman, revving it up with a smirk.  Comet stiffened when Aquamarine stormed into the area, glaring daggers at the male pegasus.

“Sir, you are touching my daughter,” she growled, horn flaring a dangerous red. “Let her. Go. Now.”

The terrified pegasus released her with a squeak. “You got it, ma’am!” He grunted as he was shoved away by Comet taking flight to jump into her mother’s embrace.

“Mommy!”

“Don’t you do that again, ever!” Aquamarine scolded, taking several deep breaths mixed in with tears of relief. “Have you got any idea how worried we all were?!”

“I’m sorry, Mommy, it won’t happen again.”

The woman, not once lowering her eyes, gingerly placed her bow on the ground. “Who are you people?”

Porter could tell that, even cornered, she was sizing them up with her gaze. It was obvious that she saw their weapons were very well maintained. Plus, as he himself knew, their group’s armor was far superior to anyone else had in the region.

“We’re PHL,” he replied, reluctant to lower his Kalashnikov yet. “And who are you?”

The woman straightened herself up and nodded curtly. “I’m Mei Ling Yeung. This pegasus, my partner, is named Silver Steps. Hen Gao Xing Ren Shi Ni.”

“What?” Comet tilted her head in confusion.

“She said it was nice to meet us,” Yon-Soo clarified. Everyone looked at him in surprise. “What?” he shrugged. “I’m an entertainer. You pick up a lot of languages backstage.”

Privately, he thought that Mei Ling was definitely Chinese, probably in her mid-forties. Though the look in her eyes – rich brown, Yon-Soo noted with interest – told a different story. She’d grown old before her time. Other features such as the strict, short cut of her hair only attested to how experience had shaped her, made her a different person than whoever she was before the war.

Silver Steps had a blue coat with a silvery white mane and tail. His cutie mark was that of a white lightning bolt.

Yon-Soo picked up on those details because they were the only real splashes of color in this crew. Everyone else was wearing ski masks and dark camo that hadn’t been adequately maintained in a while. It was probably by a mixture of gritty determination and plain luck that they’d survived this long out here.

Mei Ling, nodding at him gratefully, continued to speak. “I am the leader of the Underground.”

“Underground?” asked Porter.

“We stayed behind to funnel refugees – ponies, humans, anyone else, out of here.” Mei Ling closed her eyes. “China’s no longer a safe place. We are sorry for any misunderstanding, we heard the filly’s voice in the forest while traveling to our camp. We decided to help her, only to find her mocking a heavily injured Newfoal.”

“Oh, I see. That’s much better,” Aquamarine deadpanned, glaring at her daughter.

Comet flinched and tried to hide behind Sergei.

“Um… well,” she added sheepishly, “I also got something important off him too!” Now this earned the filly some curious glances

“You interrogated a Newfoal?” Hyong-Jin asked, impressed.

“Well, not really,” said Comet. “I just pretended to be nice to him and he spilled the beans to me. He told me about the PHL busting his and his buddies’ PER base, and then, then the HLF came in and just blew everything up!”

Sergei nodded approvingly. “Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

“We had a PHL team come through our base recently,” said Silver, nervously glancing in Aquamarine’s direction. “Said they were going to try and figure out where all the little camps were. They used the Underground to get into the area quietly, to not draw attention.”

“They never came back,” Mei Ling added bitterly. “Now we know why.”

Porter pointed back to their camp. “We found them. About a few miles north of here. Took a lot of the bastards with them.”

“Still!” Comet butted in. “He said he and the others were going to their other base to find the PHL base! He heard one of the PHL say something important! I wouldn’t be surprised if he told the other freaks what he knew before they left him behind! They know where to go now!”

“Where?” Mei Ling demanded, worry filling her tone. “Where did they say they were going to go?”

“Umm,” Comet tapped her chin, trying to remember. “Huade! That’s it!”

Mei Ling blanched. “Oh, no...” She turned to the others in her crew. “Wǒmen yīdìng yào qù! Huí dào jīdì!”

“Can’t speak Chinese for the life of me, but I take it that means bad news,” Aitmatov remarked, watching Mei Ling’s group grab their weapons.

“You must come!” Mei Ling herself begged, latching her bow to her back. “Those monsters have several days head start! We must leave immediately!”

“Well, that’s a yes,” Blizzard said with concern. The others nodded in agreement, before taking up position behind the smuggler crew.

“Hey, Sergei?”

The young man turned to look down at Aquamarine trotting alongside him, Comet on her back. “Yes?”

“Thanks for saving my daughter.”





It had been over a day since they’d met, and the walk had been treacherous, though Mei Ling assured them the path was safe, avoiding the obvious routes and farmlands scattered around the area. The Underground had spent the past months ensuring each of their pathways was clear of any traps left by the HLF or PER.

The hike was almost refreshingly quiet. The sounds of distant conflict were, naturally, ever-present if anyone listened hard enough, but nobody, either civilian, smuggler or soldier, felt like looking for them.

“How much further? I don’t think I can handle another ‘small’ hill,” Sergei asked as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. A cool mist fell over him and the group, causing everyone to sigh in relief as Blizzard smiled down at them from her little lowered raincloud. “Thanks, Blizzard.”

“No problemo,” she said, sticking her head out above the trees to gauge the area. “Still clear by the way.”

“Won’t be much further,” said Mei Ling. “We have about a kilometer to go.”

“Thank God!” Melnik grumbled as he took a swing from his vodka flask. “I am an old man! I need rest.”

“You’re only old by military standards,” Aitmatov said, fixing him with a not-entirely-serious glare. “You don’t even remember the Berlin Wall falling, do you?”

Hyong-Jing stared at them. “... Wait, no offense, but how old are you, anyway?”

“Forty-three,” Aitmatov said airily. “I’d been planning on retiring back in 2019, but...” he looked over at Blizzard. “Well, I had more important things to do. Besides, Lyuda took my pregnant samoyed wolfdog to America, so there wasn’t much else left for me.”

Melnik laughed drunkenly. “I couldn’t care even if I did remember, but I do remember that I have this grade-A bottle in hand right now! Ha, ha!” This answer caused everyone to roll their eyes as he downed his drink. No-one had yet figured out how he even kept his flask filled.

“Ignore him,” Porter facepalmed as Mei Ling raised an eyebrow. “If I try to take the bottle from him, he’ll just have another one ready. Besides, he is a good soldier, drunk or sober.”

“Sometimes I think he’s a better one when he’s shit-faced,” muttered Yon-Soo. Comet tittered aloud at that from her perch on her mother’s back, Sergei rubbing Comet’s mane affectionately while holding up a finger to his lips. Aquamarine turned to fix him with a glare, but he only shrugged and smiled at her apologetically.

“We’re here,” Mei Ling whispered as they passed the treeline.

A large energy windmill patched up with scrap metal was the first thing that caught Yon-Soo’s attention. There were several acres of farmland in the distance, and a small deserted-looking town crouched in the waning twilight, looking almost deserted.

“There. Near the windmill are several vehicles that we can take to go down 016 Country road.”

Porter walked up next to her. “Will it be safe?”

“Town’s been written off both by PER and HLF as a lost cause,” Mei Ling said quietly as she trekked downhill, the group following close behind. “It was abandoned in the early days of the war due to low population and the lack of response from China’s military. The fools think the town is trapped and dangerous to venture through, believing it will become a death cloud of ponification, or that maybe a FOAB is hidden inside one of the buildings.”

“FOAB?” Comet and Hyong-Jin asked in unison.

“Father of All Bombs,” Porter answered as he looked through his scope to the town. “Russia’s answer to the United State’s MOAB, Mother of All Bombs.”

“It like the RPG or grenades we use,” Sergei piped up, a smile on his face while his eyes seemed to get lost. “Only like… a million times more powerful.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Aquamarine said drily. “You humans have such an interesting taste in toys.”

“Now don’t say that Aqua, I mean, if someone can try to make me a FatMan, then I would be happy!” Sergei said with a small smile, bumping his hip against her barrel, which got him a small smile in return.

The mood however took a turn as they began to walk down the hill, the group slowly shifting position at the uncalled shift of formation.

The walk across the field made the large group nervous. Aitmatov was constantly looking off into the distance, Blizzard’s and Firebrand’s sharp gaze aiding him in the search for anyone who might like to take a free shot at them before they reached town.

“Huade is not the only place that was abandoned,” Mei Ling continued as she walked down the row. “There are many that have been deserted, and we are the only ones smart enough to use this to our advantage,”

A realization struck Porter. “You spread rumors about the towns.”

That earned him a nod. “Yes,” smiled Mei Ling. “The few ponies we have went searching for PER, while some of our own humans went to the HLF. The bèn dàn listened. I doubt they even own a map, as the abandoned towns have several routes in and out of Northern China and Mongolia. We tried to mark their locations, but they constantly move camps. The only ones that don’t are near the Wall, too many killers and sadists to count.”

“Jiān jiào shì kěpà de, nàxiē kělián de rén zài qí kòngzhì xià shòudào yǐngxiǎng,” one man grouched loudly. Yon-Soo turned slightly green at the sound.

“What'd he say?” asked Melnik.

“Screaming,” Yon-Soo said simply.

The walked up to the spinning windmill. Several van and trucks were parked underneath its blades.

“Quickly,” said Mei Ling. “The HLF may not get that close to the town, but they still watch it carefully whenever they do their patrols.”

“Alright everyone, inside!” Porter called out. In response, many of the civilians rushed into the assorted vehicles.

“Tight fit,” Melnik commented, only to raise an eyebrow as Blizzard dragged Aitmatov to the truck, threw him in and sat on his lap with a bright smile. “For some of us.”

Porter walked past him. “Quiet, old man,” he said gruffly. “Just drink your rot and get in a car.”

Yon-Soo opened the door, turning around to fetch Comet only to see Sergei lift the giggling filly into his arms, taking a seat in the back of one vehicles, Aquamarine taking up the other seat and began to fuss over Comet.

‘Huh, those two been getting really chummy lately.’ Yon-Soo thought to himself, taking a seat inside and securing his weapon to a clip on his vest. He rubbed his head, groaning somewhat and waved off the concern look on the driver. ‘Eh, maybe I’m looking too much into this. Looking at things that aren’t actually there. I really need a break.’
.
The small and packed convoy quickly left the area, heading south to Huade. 



 
It was unnerving to see a road so…

Desolate? Maybe that was the word. Rusting cars lay stalled at random throughout the road, stripped for parts, covered in graffiti, and the road itself was cracking ever so slightly from lack of maintenance. Every now and then, they’d have to swerve to avoid a pothole, or turn off altogether to avoid a long-abandoned pile-up.

Blizzard peered out one of the windows. To her surprise, one of the strange graffiti on the cars was in English. ‘HLF left us to die’, she read.

It was even worse as they passed the first buildings. Yon-Soo summed it up with two words. “Ghost town.”

“There is a joke in here somewhere,” Melnik said over the radio. “A junkyard and government building are built right next to one another. Does it symbolize our current governments?”

“That is not a government building,” Mei Ling corrected. “More like a tourist attraction.”

“Correction,” Melnik answered back, “I meant our prewar governments.”

The convoy continued through the rundown town.

“We’re here,” Mei Ling said at last.

“A hospital?” Porter asked as they pulled up next to a group of buildings, several stories tall, their exterior adorned with darkened windows. “Wouldn’t that be the first place they’ld look?”

Mei Ling pointed to the radiation signs posted every five feet. “On the occasion a brave soul comes to town, they run into that. Besides, most everything worth stealing already got taken out of here in the rush.”

“I’m so excited, I can feel my sperm count dropping already,” Aitmatov sighed.

“It is a ruse, nothing more,” Mei Ling replied, chuckling a bit at the comment.

“And if they ignore it?” Hyong-Jin couldn’t help but question, only to balk as the car continued on past the piles of bodies lining the roads. “Never mind.”

Mei Ling pursued her explanation. “There are weak radiation sources surrounding the buildings, just in case someone tries to prove it wrong with a geiger counter. It’s strong up close, but they weaken significantly once you reach a certain distance. The building’s concrete structure also blocks the radiation, and we had some spare magic from the ponies in our group to help, so there’s little issue of even that. If they get closer, well, that is what the snipers are for.”

She turned and parked the car at the entrance. “Wǒ de rén gēn wǒ lái! PHL!”

Porter and Yon-Soo blinked as a black tarp pulled back from the double doors, and a man in a yellow Hazmat suit walked out, quickly waving them inside. “Gǎnjǐn ba! Wǒmen kěyǐ fāxiàn!”

“Doesn’t sound good,” Porter whispered to Yon-Soo, who nodding in agreement, seeing the man’s worried look. Exiting their vehicles in a mad dash, the large group hurried inside, into a lobby bathed in faint red light for them to see by as they huddled together.

Melnik took note of a second tarp on the far end of the lobby, blocking off the room from the rest of the building.

He tensed. This was such a small space they were being herded into. Once the last person had walked inside, the man in a Hazmat suit secured the tarp to the wall and moved his way through the mass of people.

“Oh,” groaned Melnik, “Got such a bad feeling about this.”

Aitmatov snorted derisively. “Ivan, you watched too much Walking Dead.”

“What? No, they’re not cannibals, it’s just…”

“Something’s going to happen?” Porter suggested.

“Yeah,” nodded Melnik. “Something’s going to happen. We’ve probably attracted some attention already.”

It was far from what the group expected to see when they came in. They expected to see a run-down area, trash everywhere, dirty starving survivors looking forlornly at nothing. The usual fare.

This wasn’t it. Admittedly it wasn’t quite like a pre-war hospital. If anything, it just looked bare. The floor and walls were cracking, and the rugs were gone, but the weird thing, the really weird thing, was that it was mostly clean. Almost sterile, even.

Rather incongruously, a PKM machine gun was mounted on the desk, pointed directly at the entrance.

“We don’t use this part very much,” Mei-Ling explained. “On the off-chance that anyone gets in, this seemed like too much of a risk to use, but it works. Besides, they don’t usually survive coming through the doors anyways.”

She led them all down a hallway, past a set of locked doors, turned a bend, and suddenly...

“Huānyíng lái dào Underground.”

“Whoa!” Comet said to the scene before her. “Cool!”

This was civilization.

Here, the cleanliness, the antiseptic quality of the hospital, was so incongruous with what they knew lay ahead, but there it was. In what had once been a waiting room, children were sitting around a large scrounged-up TV with their parents, watching a movie. The walls had been festooned with various rugs and pictures. Many of the pictures depicted now-vanished cities and towns, which now lived on only in such snapshots of memory.

As they passed that waiting room, and small offices that had been converted into bedrooms with bunk beds, they turned another bend to find a room with an ammo stockpile that could make the average HLF man blush. The walls were lined with mostly Kalashnikovs, though there were a few western weapons nearby, on top of huge crates of ammunition.

In the office next door, a woman who looked to be from some atomized Eastern European country, Lithuania judging by her accent, was fiddling with a huge radio. She wore an old headset and spoke into a microphone. Passing by Sergei caught a snatch of her conversation. “–Burakgazi spotted nearby. Exercise caution.”

‘Least it'll get safer around here,’ Porter thought. ‘Can't imagine the HLF and PER will just let their presence go unnoticed...’

Strangest of all was that it smelled clean, which wasn't a smell you expected around here. Although… “I smell other ponies,” Blizzard said, excited.

“Of course you do,” said Mei Ling. “I think they'll all be happy to see you.”

“Probably don't have much to be happy about,” said Comet. “I think Auntie Blizzard–”

Blizzard scoffed, slightly offended, “Hey, I'm not that old.”

“And I might like that,” Comet said cheekily.

“I'm not letting you out of my sight, though,” Aquamarine added sternly, the others chuckling at her downtrodden expression, even with Sergei adding lethal blows by messing up her mane again.

“Stop!” Comet gave a low whine, trying to fix her mane once more.

“Either way, we can't blame you. But you're right, they don't have much to be happy about,” Mei Ling sighed. “Getting pony refugees out of these areas isn’t easy. I mean, think about it. They could go over the Barrier, but that’s damn unlikely, and they'd have to go through bogs, fields, and miles and miles of nothing. Or they could end up in a colony, and I'm not sure what's worse, starving or hanging or getting sent back. They could swing up to Iceland, or what little of it is left. They could make their way over to Alaska through Russia, but good luck getting through there even on a passenger train.”

“Is something wrong in Alaska?” asked Hyong-Jin.

“Actually, it’s fine. Worst thing that happened around there was that big fight with the Newfoals.”

She motioning to the Lithuanian woman, who pulled up a picture of several humans and ponies standing before a totem-prole on a flatbed pulled by a rusty steam locomotive, like hunters in front of a kill. Two of the people in the photo drew his eye. A mare with a violin case, a pale yellow coat, a blue mane, and a gray Stetson hat, who was standing next to a short, stocky golden-brown-haired man with a squirming black pup with nubby little forelegs in his arms. Neither looked happy about the crystal obelisk behind them.

‘Totem-prole recovered, wolf pup also brought along...’ he read. ‘By True Quill. We have great reason to celebrate, as today a force of PHL irregulars lead by New Hampshire native John Heald and Equestrian expat Fiddlesticks Apple managed to capture a totem-prole from an Imperial science team. Numerous advancements are likely to result from this find...’

“That happened in January,” Mei-Ling said offhandedly, “So it's safer than most places, but good luck getting there. I mean, they could trot, but nobody wants to go through Siberia. It’s dangerous even without all the HLF brandishing Soviet materiel scavenged from the wilderness. But here? This far south of Russia? It’d be madness, but unfortunately, it’s the most direct route and PHL bases in big cities need all the ponypower they can get. And that’s where we come in.”

“You really got your work cut out for you guys, huh?” Hyong-Jin asked.

“Well, someone has to do it,” Mei Ling sighed. “Like I said, the most direct route.”

“Mei Ling!” a new voice, a young woman’s, cried out. “You got back safe! Oh, thank God! I was almost getting worried about you guys, and I was about to head out there to find you myself!”

Mei Ling smiled and gave the other woman a hug. “Well, you don’t have to worry, Tatiana. We’re all capable of taking care of ourselves, and we owe it to your help. And we’ve got some very good news. These people and ponies here are from the PHL.”

Tatiana was slightly younger than Mei Ling, Yon-Soo saw, probably in her mid-twenties. Her blond hair was tied back in a messy bun, and while she was of average height, she was pretty imposing. The tank top she wore exposed her well-muscled arms, and her hands looked rough and calloused. Her blue eyes were icy and hardened, much like Mei Ling’s.

“You’re PHL?” she asked, glancing at Mei Ling with a look of hope on her face. Mei Ling nodded, which got a smile out of her. “Why're you here?”

“We were assigned to help guard a train full of priceless relics on its way to China,” Porter explained. “Unfortunately, Erenhot went a little hot, so… Yeah, we had to evac, all the refugees came with us, and part of the train got cut off. So, yeah, here we are.”

“You're not delivering supplies or weaponry?” asked Tatiana.

Porter shook his head. “Sorry, but no. We've still got a lot of work to do, though.”

“You guys look like you could do with a rest first, though,” Tatiana said frankly. “And no offense, but, well, you all kinda smell.”

“The train wasn't exactly the Orient Express,” Melnik admitted with a nod. “Wasn't about comfort, it was about getting a job done.”

“Kuài shànglái!”

Several people rushed by, along with several ponies, chattering quietly to one another.

“Dàodǐ shì zěnme huí shì?” Mei Ling demanded, Tatiana just as confused as everyone else as they rushed towards the television.

“Erenhot!” one man exclaimed, “Tyrant forces attacked there!”

The armed group looked around nervously as the chatter grew silent and the news broadcast filled the room.

“Erenhot has mysteriously combusted, according to satellite footage. Mongolian, Chinese, and Russian forces are scrambling to the area to repair the railroad lines and vital transportation before HLF or PER arrive…”

They could see shaky footage from a helicopter, panning across half-melted railroad tracks and a bizarre, uneven spray of wreckage dotting the landscape. Down below, soldiers were fanning out, taking cover behind wreckage.

“Several days ago, Mongolian Air Force requested assistance due to strange radar readings in the area of the Gobi Desert, similar readings found around Royal Potioneer ships, just much larger. After China’s Republic Air Force responded to the call, several contingents were dispatched,” said the voiceover. “The entire force was decimated due to a new airship fielded by the invading forces. What few survivors reported was the city being overrun with little in the way of hope, until they claim that a ‘Fire Tornado’ began to rip apart the city. The origin of this tornado is currently unknown, and while it caused immense property damage, disrupting transportation for the foreseeable future, survivors are grateful as it destroyed many of the invaders ship and damaged the large ‘Airliner’, forcing it away for repairs. And while grateful, survivors mourn the loss of some 80,000 city residents, along with several encamped refugees. The death toll is estimated to be to be over a hundred thousand.”

“What?”

The group turned in unison to see a certain crimson pegasus, looking as though he’d seen a ghost. “How many?”

Recognizing the signs, Porter quickly rushed up to Firebrand to face him, kneeling down and grasping his friend’s shuddering head in both hands. “Firebrand, listen to me–”

“No! I killed all those people!” Firebrand howled, his breathing engaged in the telltale rushing onset of a complete nervous breakdown. He struggled to get out of Porter’s grasp, tears starting to shine in his eyes. “I’m a murderer!”

“NO! You are not!” Porter shouted, holding his head tightly. “Firebrand, those people were going to die, whether by fire or by potion. There was nothing we could do to change it. You heard the news, they were grateful for the Fire Tornado. They knew it was a better death than a slow, living death by potion.”

“But… I… I killed them all…” Firebrand whimpered as he slumped to the ground, ignoring everything around him. The humans who’d stuck by him this far just looked at each other, unsure what to do, while Blizzard and Aquamarine looked on in mute horror. Only Comet’s face was expressionless.

“Damn it.” Porter muttered. “Miss Yeung, can we use any spare rooms you have?”

Mei Ling nodded. “Yes, but we cannot stay for very long. Those Newfoals may come here any day now.” She turned to one of the men by her side. “Take them to one of the spare rooms, show them the showers and help clean up their weapons, armor, and clothes. We may have little time left before we’re all forced to leave. The rest of you, join me in the meeting room, we need to be prepared to leave in the next 24 hours.”

The group acknowledged Mei Ling, spreading out to pass the word. Porter pinched the bridge of his nose, before turning back to his group “Hyong-Jin, Sergei, take Firebrand to our room. The rest of us, get some shuteye, we may be up for some time once we get going again. Hopefully, we can get some decent sleep out of this.”

“And be clean,” Aquamarine said as she fussed over Comet. “I miss showers.”

“We all do,” quipped Sergei, undoing some of the buckles and holsters on himself to place his weapons on a nearby table. “Hell, I bet even these guys would like a bath too.”

“Right. Get cleaned up, but be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice.” Porter ordered, giving a small sigh as he turned back to Mei Ling. “Can I borrow your radios? I got a call to make.”


- - - - -


Yon-Soo sighed happily, for the first time in ages, as he quietly tip-toed over to the door of the room he shared with Aquamarine and Comet. Porter had already slipped away to the communications room for a chat with PHL command, possibly Colonel Renee himself. Now he’d washed away the filth from days of hiking through China’s northern woods, he felt a bit lighter, somehow.

His head in his hand, left elbow leant against the doorframe, he peered down the hallway, to see if it was empty. Sure enough, it was. Nodding, he looked back into the room, where mother and daughter were catching up some much-needed sleep. Hard to say, yet he thought this improvised bedroom was one of the nicest in the hospital.

Sparing one last look at Aquamarine and Comet, cuddled together in bed after the day’s excitement, he gave a small smile before closing the door, silently making his way to the communications room. Inside, he was somewhat surprised to find Tatiana at the radios, a look of concern on her features.

“Hello,” he said courteously.

She glanced up at him. “Ah, hello,” she responded with a tired smile. Then she returned to studying her radios. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Not really,” Yon-Soon replied, “But I’m feeling a lot better after everything that’s gone down. Porter has to get into contact with some PHL forces in the US. I hope the rest of the train got through.”

“If they’re as well trained as you, there is little doubt they made it,” said Tatiana, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “The others, the civilians that you saved, they saw what your companions did to protect them.”

“It was all over the news, wasn't it? I heard it on the radio while we were downstairs.”

“But they were there. They saw firsthand what you and your friends did.”

Yon-Soo blushed slightly. “We only did what we needed to do.”

“What you and your team did was beyond what anyone expected you to do,” Tatiana said, very quietly. “Few other teams can fend off two potioneer ships like that. No, a regular military team would leave people behind, the mission is more important. But you, the PHL, did not.”

“Yeah, I guess… Firebrand isn’t taking it well, though.” Yon-Soo remembered the look of horror on the pegasus’s face as he saw what he had wrought. As if he was only just understanding what he'd done.

“I'm worried about him,” yawned a grizzled male voice.

Yon-Soo could have jumped. Huddled at a bank of computers in a dim corner of the room, a certain old Russian soldier and his blue pegasus ladyfriend had been listening to their conversation all the while.

Aitmatov yawned again. “But Blizzard and I will have to worry...” And at that point, his yawn slurred whatever he meant to say into incomprehensibility.

“He said ‘…tomorrow’,” Blizzard supplied wryly.

Yon-Soo frowned at the pair. “How long have you been there?”

“Oh, a while,” said Aitmatov.

“He was videochatting his daughter,” explained Tatiana.

“Thankfully, Lyuda's okay. She's taking care of my Samoyed wolfdog.” Aitmatov fished his phone from his pocket to show an image of a smiling woman holding a huge, canine ball of fluff. “And she's doing well over in Alaska. Said she helped capture that prole with some guy and some mare from New Hampshire. She, uh... She didn't get ponified or lose a limb to potion so that's good.”

The old man smiled.

“But I think we'd rather tell you tomorrow,” added Blizzard, ears and wings drooping. “Right now, I need rest.”

“Agreed...” said Aitmatov, staggering off.

It seemed like yawns really were contagious, as seeing them both made Yon-Soo himself feel tired. “Count me in. Well, good night, you two.”

“Good night!” Blizzard saluted him as they left for their room.

Tatiana and Yon-Soo were left alone. She was first to speak. “Doubt we’re going to see any more action tonight. I probably should have got some sleep hours ago, too. My fault, really.”

“Oh? Why?”

“My relief passed out in a binge contest,” she explained. It was odd to see sheepishness on such a hardened-looking woman’s face. “Him, me and your friend Ivan. I’d figured the fact his shift came after mine would help. Too bad I don’t know my own strength…”

Yon-Soo chuckled lightly.

“Come on,” she said. “I’ll walk you to your room. Helps that it’s on the way to, to mine.”

“Well,” said Yon-Soo, feeling himself blush a little again, “Thanks, Tatiana.”

They walked back together in silence. It was a grim place at night, this hospital, Yon-Soo reflected. All grey, spartan walls, and dimly-lit hallways that ended in windows covered by hastily set-up black plastic curtains. Yet he would much rather be in here, than out there in the wild, with whatever predators lurked in the dark.

Reaching the bedroom, Yon-Soo noticed something amiss. Aquamarine and Comet’s bed was empty. He felt a lump rise in his throat at the sight, yet before anything else could happen, Tatiana grasped his arm.

“Yon-Soo,” she whispered, “Over there.”

She was pointing at a little filly standing outside another room, two doors down across the hall. Breathing in, Yon-Soo thought that this filly had a knack for sneaking off when she really shouldn’t. Maybe it was her special talent. The two quietly came up to her.

“Comet, what are you doing?” he asked sternly, “Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”

The filly glanced at them. “I know, but… I woke up when I noticed Mommy wasn’t next to me, and I saw her and Sergei talking, so… I followed them,” she admitted, lips pursing into a thin line.

“Oh my,” Tatiana whispered. “I have a weird feeling about this…”

The door was ajar. Peeking around the edge, Yon-Soo spotted the two in the room. Perhaps it was thanks to his background in soap operas, but he immediately guessed just what was going on. Fortunately, Tatiana had the foresight to instantly cover Comet’s mouth so she wouldn’t give them away.

Sergei’s and Aquamarine’s lips were locked in a rather deep kiss. The mare’s forelegs wrapped around his neck while she sat on his lap, the duo barely sparing time to take a breath before they continued. Yon-Soo was sure that Sergei was scratching her ear with one hand while holding her steady with the other on her hips, gently rubbing her cutie mark.

“Wow, they’re really going at it,” Tatiana whispered.

It wasn’t rough, or a heavy make-out session. It was… gentle, perhaps even loving.

But then Aquamarine’s eyes shot open and she broke the kiss, pushing Sergei away. She gasped, looking horrified with herself as she got off of him. Sergei, however, just looked… confused.

It seemed to take a minute for Aquamarine to pull herself together. “Sergei,” the others outside heard her say in a muffled tone, “You’re great. You really are. And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me and Comet… but…”

“It’s Gale, isn’t it?”

She slowly nodded, a tinge of guilt in her voice when she answered, “Yes.”

“Why though?” Sergei demanded. “He’s supporting turning all of us into mindless pony-shaped meatbags, and would’ve probably thrown you and Comet into the nuthouse if you hadn’t high-tailed it out of there!”

“He’s still my husband, and the father of my foal!” Aquamarine hissed, barely holding back a sob. “By Luna, I know my husband! He was a loyal and loving stallion… I know, I’ve no idea how, but I just know that something turned him to make him act like this! And if whatever it is could be reversed…”

Sergei seemed undeterred. “Well, okay. Let’s say all the Royal Guards have been put under mind control. If they were snapped out of it, can you even begin to imagine how they’d react, once they realize what they did? If Gale doesn’t die of a heart attack from the guilt, he’d become suicidal!”

“And he will need someone to be there for him,” Aquamarine said thinly.

“What about you, Aqua? What if he’s too broken to even function? I speak from experience when I say I’ve seen soldiers return so emotionally broken, they can’t even form relationships. And what if he’s already died?”

“He’s not dead,” she said, firm and knowing. “I know Gale, and I know what he’s good at. He can dodge like the best of them. He’ll survive.”

“Damnit!” Sergei held his hair in his hands, panic in his eyes. “Damnit, I love you! I care about you more than anyone else in this group! I’m not even sure when it happened, but I woke up to see you smiling down on me, and I thought ‘I need you in my life.’ I see Comet, and I want to watch her grow up into beautiful mare and lead a happy life! Please… I just… I need you. I never felt so… peaceful, before I met you two. Never so… untensed. Please, give me a chance...”

Aquamarine’s jaw dropped in surprise, tears now flowing freely as this man poured his heart out to her. But she only shook her head and turned away.

“I’m sorry, Sergei. I didn’t mean to lead you on like this. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just… I just...”

“You were lonely,” Sergei whispered. Aquamarine nodded, turning back to face him. He gave her a painful smile. “Sergei comes in second again.”

“No! That’s not–” Aquamarine held out her hoof, but Sergei walked away, to an open door which adjoined this bedroom with the next. Obviously, they’d used this stratagem in the hopes of going unnoticed, but had forgotten to shut the door to the corridor.

“It’s okay…” he said, giving her a small wave with one hand, the other on the knob as he slowly closed the door. “I’ll be… around. Sorry for taking advantage of you…”

“You didn’t take advantage of me… I’m sorry,” Aquamarine choked out, covering her eyes as she wept softly.

Yon-Soo grimaced, feeling bad for everyone involved in this situation. Sergei always said he had bad luck when it came to dating. If it wasn’t bad timing, it was a poor choice of words, or just fate being cruel. Looked like a combination of all three just occurred to him today.

“Struck out,” Tatiana whispered. “Poor guy. To be honest, I thought the two were already an item.”

Comet just looked shocked, completely in the dark on how to process this. In a way, she was in as bad a position as her mother. She liked Sergei, looked up to him, even. Hung out with him and always had a smile ready for him. But he’d been like a brother. To see her own mother kissing him shocked her to the core.

What scared her more was that she felt okay with it. Like she was betraying her own father, even after all that’d happened to them. She didn’t know how to feel. Was she supposed to be mad at her mother for turning down Sergei? Or be mad that Mommy betrayed Daddy like this? And another part of Comet was scared, not for her, but for her mother, and her chances to be happy.

Comet Tail was young, not dumb. She knew she was all Mommy had left of their old life. Whatever her mother chose, it would have to be for Comet’s safety. It still hurt her mother that her baby had become a soldier. But she, Comet, had wanted to, because even if it was nasty and scary, it was better than letting the bad guys catch you. Wasn’t this kind of the same? Didn’t Mommy have to choose between being happy, or being right?

“Maybe…” said Yon-Soo, “Maybe we should keep this to ourselves.” His voice was shaky.

“Yes, that sounds good to me,” Tatiana nodded. She sounded like she, too, wanted to move as far as possible from an uncomfortable situation. “Come on, kid. It’s best to let your mother figure this one out herself.”

Comet whimpered. “I don’t even know anymore…”

“Oh, this is gonna be really fun in the morning,” Yon-Soo muttered with dread, as he led Tatiana and Comet away from the room with the weeping mare. “I just know it.”





“Lyra would be disappointed.”

Firebrand’s eyes shot open. Groaning, he raised his head off the bunk bed, which had brought little comfort so far. Just when it seemed he was finally falling asleep, his attempts to snatch some respite from his troubled thoughts had again been thwarted by… something.

A soft feminine voice.

The speaker sat just a few feet away from his bed, upon a circular seat against which rested a golden lyre. Covered as she was in a white cloak, all he could see of her were her pales hooves, busily and expertly tracing patterns across a large vertical loom.

He blinked. “Who–”

“My name is unimportant,” she said calmly. “Though I believe your friend, the actor, met an old and dear acquaintance of mine aboard the train. I have tracked down the fragments of his magical signature all around this planet for a while now. Never enough to follow his trail, alas, yet the lingering residue allows me a brief access to your ambient dreams. Get up, please, Firebrand.”

Unwittingly, he obeyed. Her voice could not be denied.

“There, finished,” said the weaver, pushing her seat to step back from the loom, an action which let her cloak unfold across her now-standing equine frame.

He recoiled. There, emblazoned on the back of the cloth, was the sign of Celestia’s resplendent sun.

“Please, take a look. What do you think?”

Firebrand turned to observe her handiwork. The loom depicted a swirling pillar of red flame, surrounded by an assortment of white stone buildings, melting and weeping like candle wax in the heat. Silhouetted against it were tiny, inky black human figure, reaching out desperately as they were sucked into the vortex. And at the very top, the cloud indistinctly began to take on the shape of a mushroom cap…

“I hope you like it,” said the hooded mare. “After all, it was inspired by your work.”

His lip quivered. “You’ve forced us all to behave in ways we’d never have, not in old Equestria, the real Equestria. None of this would’ve happened if… if only we hadn’t betrayed them.” He stared at her. “You did this.”

“No,” she replied quietly. “You did.”

The pillar of fire, appropriately enough, seemed to burn its way to the back of his skull. Shaking his head, tousled blond mane flopping wildly, Firebrand tried to clear the image from his mind. Stars dancing across his eyes, he looked to see the hooded mare, idly polishing the lyre with her cloak’s hem.

“Your actions killed 80,000 people, Firebrand. And for what?”

“I was trying to save them from a fate worse than death.”

She merely tilted her head. “You’re no savior. Your talents lie elsewhere.”

Firebrand’s gaze hardened. “How… dare you! How dare you even say that, when you’re the ones basically murdering these poor people, and then have the gall to call it salvation! If there’s anypony who’s got a talent for senseless destruction around here, it’s the ones like you!”

“That, I fear, is where you are wrong.”

Suddenly, they were in a different place altogether.

Above lay them a sea of stars, and below, a boiling angry orange-red lake of fire, that stretched out to the horizon.

Firebrand saw that they stood on an invisible plane above the sun’s surface, though whether it was Earth’s star or Queen Celestia’s charge, he could not tell.

A glow emanated from beneath her hood and he found himself trapped in the unicorn’s rose-colored aura, as a pair of golden straps materialized from nowhere behind him, to clasp themselves tightly shut around his barrel. Clipping his wings together.

Firebrand wanted to scream, yet his throat had swollen shut. Instead, he was forced to watch helplessly as the hooded mare levitated him away. Her white cloak billowing in the solar winds, she stood upright like a swordsman readying the killing blow.

“You fail to see a key difference in the destruction by Her Majesty’s Sun,” she whispered. “There is a distinction between your wanton acts of mayhem, and our surgical removal of a cancer. However high mankind may rise, in the end, its history is always defined by a downward spiral of hideous, unplanned slaughter. I do not deny that we’ve killed people, condemned both Changeling and reindeer to the abyss. But we planned it out, gave method to our madness. We shall move forward, and any fool who won’t walk with us, will face their FATE!”

And she released the aura, leaving him to fall, straight into the sun.

This time, Firebrand did scream, before the fire even leapt out to claim him. The flames danced across his skin, tearing away pink strips of flesh and tendon, which spooled out into the red-and-orange patchwork of the sun, tender thread by tender thread – burning away the straps, too, not that it mattered now.

The fiery grasp took hold of him completely, and he went under… he was drowning in water’s elemental opposite. It was a world filled with light and heat and blinding white pain. Yet only for an instant. The fog lifted from his mind, and the sensation began to seem pleasurable, soothing.

He had no body. He was freed from burden.

“Stay strong, the fever will soon break…”

And now, he was back in bed.

Firebrand felt something cool and gentle upon his forehead, but his eyes were blurred and he couldn’t see, or even move. Gradually, he realized it was the pale mare’s hoof, delicate and caring as a mother’s touch. Yet as soon as that thought took hold, she pulled away from him. No! How could she deny him that comfort!

Sight began to return, and other senses. It was too hot, he was dizzy and sweating. He saw her gaze wistfully at the lyre as she gave its strings a few tentative tugs, to little avail. Whatever her talents, she was no musician.

His visitor sighed.

“There is no plan, no light at the end of the tunnel for your companions. Should the Barrier be stopped, their temporary truce will collapse back into old grudges and strife, into chaos. Your time with the humans has led you to believe this is all ‘us or them, them or us’, but a common enemy is a fragile rock upon which to build friendship, little pegasus. With Celestia, there is another way. There is Harmony.”

She whom they called ‘Celestia’s Sword’ placed the lyre back within the folds of her cloak.

“We’re not mankind’s enemy, Firebrand. We’re its reflection in a stained-glass window.”

The hooded mare receded into the shadows.

“I want you to sleep on that.”





Porter stared at the group seated before him, picking up on the thick tension in the air almost immediately, even though several members appeared more confused than anything. With his keen officer’s sight, three ponies and one man in particular caught his attention.

Aquamarine’s eyes were completely bloodshot, like she’d spent the entire night crying. Sitting on the complete opposite end of the row, Sergei was simply dead to the world, barely acknowledging his own name when Hyong-Jin tried to ask him a question. And in the middle, riding on Melnik’s shoulder, was Comet, who seemed on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Firebrand was something else entirely. He looked haunted.

“So…” Porter clapped his hand. “Got some good rest?”

“Yup!” Blizzard grinned happily.

Aitmatov only gave him a single nod, not noticing the thumbs-up Melnik game him. His eyes were focused on the doors leading outside. “Sort of. We were up pretty late–”

“Having sex?” Melnik asked, raising an eyebrow as he grinned immaturely.

“Calling my daughter,” Aitmatov explained through gritted teeth.

“Is that what you’re calling it now, Khan?”

“No, we actually really did Skype my daughter.”

“And then we had sex,” added Blizzard.

“Blizzard!” Aitmatov exclaimed, a hand on her foreleg, as both of them laughed. The laughter abruptly stopped when they noticed the state of about half the team.

Aitmatov’s face fell. “...Guys?”

Sergei just kind of shrugged and held onto his weapon tightly. Aquamarine flinched, her ears drooping mournfully. Comet stayed quiet.

Yon-Soo wanted to scream at them to sort out something, because it really hurt to see them like this, and that was no good at all for team morale.

“Alright, what happened last night?” asked Porter. “Were the nightmares bad again?”

Firebrand raised his head, like he wanted to say something, but Yon-Soo got there before him.

“Yes!” the former actor said loudly. “It’s still going on right now.”

“Riiight…” Porter raised an eyebrow at that. (‘Let them tell me in their own time,’ he thought.) “Alright, scouts from the Underground report that a large PER force is gathered to the north. We received confirmation from the PHL this morning. So the entire Underground is closing shop, and we are going south. We have a ship to catch in Hong Kong. It’s part of Captain Kleiner’s fleet.”

“You mean the Stampede Fleet?” asked Firebrand.

Porter nodded. “The very same. Okay, we will be a part of this convoy until we get to location. Firebrand and Hyong-Jin will ride with me in the first car. Aitmatov, Blizzard, and Melnik will ride in the middle. Yon-Soo, Aquamarine, Comet and Sergei will be in the last car.”

‘No, this can’t be happening. There is no way this is happening!’ Yon-Soo screamed internally, while his face twitched somewhat. “Sir, request permission to change the seating arrangements.”

“Denied.” Porter shook his head. “I trust you to have our back, everyone gets a magical backup. Plus you are a better shot than Sergei, who’d probably just blow everything up.”

‘No, God! No, God, please no! No! NOOO!’ Yon-Soo inwardly cried to Heaven above. But he put on a good face and replied, “Understood, sir.”

“Any particular reason why you want the change?”

“Nope. I’m good.” Yon-Soo plastered a smile to his face, feeling all the while like the word ‘fraud’ was stamped right on his forehead. He was pretty sure he deserved an award for that performance.

“Okay then. Let’s move out.”

The group broke into their respective teams, chatting with one another as they began to leave, only to pause as the last team remained sitting.

“Well…” Yon-Soo smiled, his left eyebrow twitching somewhat. “How about that. You guys ready to go?”

“Yes,” Aquamarine said quietly.

Sergei barely nodded his head, while Comet stared up at him with a pleading expression.

“This is going to be fun...” the young Russian started, looking at the twitching Comet, who was full of barely constrained… something. Though since she was a filly, it still looked a bit funny. “I mean, we can sing, we can tell stories about our pasts. Love– ergh! Uh... fart jokes? Right? Everyone loves f–”

Comet couldn’t hold back any longer. “WE SAW YOU TWO LAST NIGHT!” Yon-Soo stared at her in complete horror. Children were either very good at keeping secrets or they weren’t.

‘Why... just… Why?’

“Little filly, say what?!” Blizzard gaped as she stared at the two accused, before elbowing Aitmatov. “I told you! I told you it would happen! And you said it was my imagination!”

“Since when?” Melnik demanded, rubbing his chin to get rid of the alcohol from his spit-take. “Why wasn’t I informed?! I could’ve taken bets!”

“I am more surprised the guy who did soap operas didn’t notice.” Blizzard slyly turned to Yon-Soo, who blinked in confusion at her call. “Yon-Soo probably orchestrated this entire thing.”

“What?! N-no I didn’t! I just found out last night!” Yon-Soo raked his mind, suddenly realizing a lot of small details that he just brushed off.

Small smiles shared with one another, the way Sergei fussed over Comet the most out of all of them, the way they almost seemed to play good-cop/bad-cop with regards to her...

Both Aquamarine and Sergei’s eyes widened bigger than saucers, but Aquamarine quickly tried to cover up before things deteriorated. “What do you mean, sweetie?”

“We saw you kiss him, Mommy,” Comet choked, her whole body shaking. “Me, Uncle Yon-Soo and Miss Tatiana…”

Sergei deflated, sinking back into his chair. Aquamarine walked towards her daughter. “Look, it was an accident,” she said softly. “We didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a silly mistake we made.”

“O-kay! Time to go! Let’s go guys!” Porter said out loud, trying to push the group away, only for them to ignore him, Blizzard even going as far as to shoosh him.

Comet just gave her mother a hard stare, before glancing back at Sergei. He’d looked like a drowned cat after her mother turned him down last night, and now she couldn’t help but feel angry. “He poured his heart out to you, Mommy! He said he loves you! He loves us both! And you threw that away!”

“Comet, sweetie, I’m still married to your father. It’s not right–”

“Where is he then!? Why isn’t he here? Oh yeah, now I remember, we ran away from him!” Comet retorted, letting loose all her pent-up rage. “He wanted us to change! To think like him! Like Celestia! He probably doesn’t even care about us anymore!”

“Comet…” Sergei croaked out. “Please don’t.”

“No! You love my Mommy!” Comet felt the tears begin to flow. “You brought us food! You protected us from all those angry humans! From Newfoals! You always made Mommy laugh! You made her happy! She was so sad all the time, then you saved us! You gave us all your time, even when you barely had any at all! It’s not fair!”

“Comet!” Aquamarine scolded, utterly appalled at this outburst.

Yet Comet was on a roll, as she cut her mother off and said, “You can’t say it meant nothing! I saw you! You love him too! He’s your special somepony now. Not… Not… Gale.”

Aquamarine took a step back. Both her and Yon-Soo’s eyes widened as Comet spat out her father’s name. “If… If Gale cared about us…” Comet sniffed and wiped her snout. “He’d be here with us, he’d still be… still be Daddy.”

For a moment, everyone was completely silent.

Porter noticed the dark cloud figuratively crossing Firebrand’s face, too. He wondered just what was going on in his friend’s mind since yesterday. All this ‘love’ talk reminded him that he suspected Comet of having a schoolgirl crush on the fiery pegasus, though really, the stallion was as much a big brother to her as was Sergei.

But Firebrand just looked vaguely disgusted at everything around him.

“Well. That was fun,” Yon-Soo coughed. “How about we get to the convoy before anymore drama, right?”

“Yes, we have more important things to worry about,” Porter noted. “You two work this out on your own.”

“Right,” said Sergei. He grabbed his cleaned weapon and stalked off, Comet dejectedly following after him. Just a few paces behind them, Yon-Soo and Aquamarine walked side by side, the former’s jaw clenched from stress.

“I really hope you two figure something out,” he told Aquamarine. “I don’t think Comet will let you two go, she has her mind set now.”

“If only it were that easy…” she murmured.


- - - - -


She’d fucked up, Aquamarine knew it.

Her daughter had all but written off her own father as a lost cause, and she’d broken the heart of a man who took care of them both. She wasn’t sure when it started, the flirting and the sly smiles. Only that she began to care for Sergei like she cared about Gale. How she fretted over him more than anyone else sans Comet. How she prayed to Luna to keep him safe before she went to sleep. Sometimes, she’d find him awake and looking to the night sky, and would join him, allowing him to wrap his arms around her in a small hug.

“S-sergei? Could we talk, please?”

“Hm?” Sergei looked away from the road, where they’d been awaiting the rest of the convoy for twenty minutes.

“Maybe, maybe Comet was onto something back there,” said Aquamarine, rubbing her fetlocks. “Maybe it’s better that I not cling to any blind hope. For all I know, Gale could be dead, or… I don’t even want to think…”

“What? If you don’t mind my asking?”

“You know how a Newfoal can’t say ‘no’ to anything a native pony asks of it?”

He dwelled on that, shuddering. Oh, God, the stories he’d heard off the ‘straggler squads’ of the PHL’s evac and rescue units in Eurasia. One soldier named Lutsenko had mentioned the towns taken over by Equestria’s Forward Operations to house Newfoals awaiting the Barrier and colonial support. A dead-end job for the Imperial troops, who’d find ways to pass the time. With brothels full of former humans. Teenagers, children even… all willing…

Lutsenko had burned one such place down using a PHL-made thermite gun, without a tear. At least that’s what he’d said. He’d definitely burnt it to the ground, though.

“What if…” Aquamarine asked herself, “What if he’s already taken one?”

The wording was not lost on Sergei. ‘Taken’. As if Gale had just found a new possession.

“And what if… what if you were right about something making Gale and the other guards act strangely? Like he was under mind control, or brainwashed… If she does it to humans, why not her own ponies? We weren’t all on board with this, how could her guards be?”

Sergei shrugged. “I don’t know, Aquamarine. People are so unpredictable…”

“Yes,” the mare frowned. “But right here, right now, we’re both in control of our actions.” She looked at him. “So where do go from there? None of us has much time, Sergei.”

“Come again?”

“I mean,” she said, inspecting her hoof, “That everyone and everypony keeps acting like the Barrier’s going to be falling one of these days. It seemed a lot more believable when Ambassador Heartstrings was still alive. But now she’s gone, and that thing isn’t. I’ve no idea how long we’ll be here for, either. It scares me so much…”

“Yeah.” He knelt beside her. “Me too, it scares me, Aqua. But you wanna know what I find even scarier?”

She couldn’t look him in the eye. “What?”

“The idea that people are gonna stop caring for each other, long before it gets them.” When she said nothing, he pursued his trail of thought. “I, uh, I’m trying to find the right words… Like, it hurts when you lose someone you care about very much, you know? So you shut them out. Can’t be hurt if you were never happy. But it just ain’t healthy, I’m starting to see it.”

Now, Aquamarine forced herself to speak. “Are you talking about us, or me and Gale?”

“Eh, why not both?” said Sergei. “Aqua, I wouldn’t want you to go all cold and hard. Way too much of that shit around nowadays. I’d want you to move on. To be safe and find happiness. Not stay with, with me cos’ you felt you had to. But if I pulled any real bad shit, I’d do everything to get forgiveness, and keep the hell away from ruining anything good you found. You and Comet.”

Aquamarine sniffled as she looked up at him. “Can you forgive me?”

“Yes, absolutely.” Sergei whispered. “It hurt a lot, but… I understand why you did it.”

“You… you are a good person, Sergei Zaslavski,” said Aquamarine, raising her head so they could stare into each other’s eyes on an even level. “I don’t want Comet to grow up without a father, and you are the closest thing she has to one now. But she needs a father, not a big brother.”

He looked uneasy. “If that Barrier doesn’t stop, it wouldn’t matter. Either way, I’d be gone from her life.”

“I don’t care. She’ll remember you.” Aquamarine closed her eyes. “I do love you, Sergei. I was just… scared. Too scared to think what will happen if you die and I live. Too… stuck in the past.”

Sergei placed both his palms around her face. “And if Gale somehow snapped out of that brainwashing or whatever the hell it is? What would you do then? What if he really is the stallion you loved, and now he’s got to live with having been the bad guy?”

Aquamarine was silent for half a minute. “We’ll cross that bridge if we get there. But, for now… how about we let ourselves just be happy in the moment? We deserve that much, at least, after everything.”

She gave him a quick peck, and, leaving his embrace, moved to join the rest of the group.


- - - - -


Tatiana looked up from the car she was working on, the smile on her face completely wiped away at the realization of whom she was sharing the car with.

“Oh, crap.”

Yon-Soo gave her a strained smile.

“Yup, this is the group you are riding out with.” He leant in close to her. “Don’t worry, things have smoothed out, but… they also know we saw ‘em last night, thanks to the little one having a very big mouth.”

“The stress was too much!” Comet cried.

“Way to go,” muttered Tatiana. “This trip just got a lot harder than it already is.” But at sight of the man and the mare themselves, she outright double-taked.

They looked… brighter. Happier.

“Or maybe not.” Tatiana gave Yon-Soo a confused look, but he was just as lost as Sergei and Aquamarine stood next to one another without any hint of friction.

“Yeah…” Yon-Soo said, smiling a bit more happily. “Well, let’s get going.”

“Alright everyone! Get in!” Tatiana chuckled, watching as they piled into the car. The convoy was getting ready, everyone packing as much as they could. Tatiana reached over for the radio. “Hey Mei, we’re ready here.”

“Got it, we are heading out in five minutes.”

“Alright, so where are we going?” asked Yon-Soo, pulling out a map.

“Right,” Tatiana leaned over. “We are here, in Huade. We’re going south on 208 Provincial Road to Zhangjiakou. It’s got heavy military presence, but the surrounding area is filled with HLF and PER, so we need to move fast.”

“What about all these points around the road?” Sergei asked, earning a grim look from Tatiana.

“Mostly farms, but the Tigers control the area.”

“What?”

“HLF,” she spat. “Could very well give that Galt man and his group in Canada a run for their money. Worse still, Burakgazi’s around...”

“Wait, what?” Yon-Soo asked, eyes widening. This was only getting more and more insane.

“Yeah. He’s been heading into the area. We don’t mind the PER gettin’ gassed, but it’s only a matter of time before they get us.”

“We are ready, let’s go!” Mei Ling called out. Grunting, Tatiana started the car.

Only for it to die a second later.

“Uh… This isn’t funny.” Yon-Soo growled, but he paled when Tatiana began to curse and again tried to start up. They saw the convoy move on without them. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me! Hey! Hold up! Our car stalled.”

“We can’t stop. We have to leave now! Don’t worry, Tatiana can fix it, she is a good mechanic.”

“Shit, let’s get started,” Sergei said as he got out. “Open the hood!”

“Comet, stay in the car,” Aquamarine ordered, following Sergei.

Seeing the convoy slow down, Tatiana tightened her grip around the radio. “We’ll catch up. Go!”

“Oh,” Yon-Soo groaned, clutching his head at the growing migraine. “This day… SUCKS!”


- - - - -


Twenty minutes had passed, and Yon-Soo was seriously debating on walking out of town.

“Okay, try it now!” Sergei called out. With a sigh, Yon-Soo turned the key. Imagine his surprise when, gloriously, the engine roared to life.

“Hah! Told you it was the battery!” Tatiana laughed. “The damn connections were too loose!”

Sergei rolled his eyes, but Yon-Soo was in no mood for joviality. “Yeah, yeah. C’mon, let’s go,” he snapped, Comet giggling somewhat at his growing temper.

“Someone’s touchy,” grinned Aquamarine. She chuckled coyly as Yon-Soo glared at her.

“Go get a room with your new boyfriend, why don’t you?” he hissed, wanting to wipe the grin off her face.

Aquamarine gently leaned against Sergei. “Maybe I will.”

“Mommy?” Comet felt utterly confused. She was so sure they would be angry at one another.

“Its okay,” Aquamarine leaned over and gave her a nuzzle. “He’s my special somepo– Oh, excuse me. I meant my special someone.”

Comet beamed, squealing happily as she leapt onto Sergei to give him a big hug.

“Good grief, someone shoot me up with a syringe full of insulin now,” Yon-Soo muttered, while Tatiana only patted him on the shoulder.

“Hey, they made up. We should be happy now, it’s not an awkward trip anymore!” she noted brightly.

“Yeah, yeah...” Yon-Soo groaned. He rolled down the window as they made their way down the main street. “I’m now on a mental rollercoaster, and I need to find a place and forget the worl–”

The sound of a distant explosion caught his attention.

“Huh, sounds like it came from the south,” Yon-Soo began, only for the radio to start blaring with static.

“Yon-Soo, *cough* listen to me!”

“Porter?”

“Yon-Soo, listen to me, do not come down 208! *cough* Damnit.”

“Get out of the vehicles! Now, you pony-fuckers!”

“Porter!?” Yon-Soo yelled. “Who is that?”

“I can’t hear you, my ears are blown out. I don’t have a lot of time! HLF rigged an IED, nearly blew us to kingdom come– *cough* Fuck! My ears. Mei Ling’s down, knocked out but still alive, car’s trashed, HLF is dragging everyone out of the cars– *cough* Take another route, do not come for us, Yon-Soo. That’s an order. You take the others and run! Do you hear me?”

“Hey! These guys are still alive!”

“Yon-Soo, do not come for us! You take them and head somewhere safe! I know I’ve been hard on you, but I know you can do it. You keep that group going until they are safe–”

There was a creaking metal sound on the other end.

“Come here,” said an unfamiliar voice.

“No! Firebrand! Fuck you, you bastard, leave him alone!”

“Son of– Hey! Guys, help me out, there’s a pegasus in here. Still alive, too!”

“Nice gear,” said a third voice. “PHL?”

“Oh, this is a good catch! Warlord Zhou will be impressed!”

“Do not come for us, Yon-Soo!” Porter yelled. “Get yourself, Aqua, Comet, and Sergei out of China! I believe in–”

… The line went dead.

Yon-Soo lost all feeling in his hand, and the radio slipped out, clattering onto the car floor.

“What do we do?!” Comet cried, almost hyperventilating. Aquamarine scrambled to calm down her daughter, while Sergei loaded the M203 that Porter had given him, not willing to take any chances now.

Yon-Soo couldn’t breathe. His mind flashed to Porter’s last order.

‘Do not come for us.’

Porter told him to run, leave him and the others to die. To run so they could live. He knew Porter, nay, all of them would not speak a word about them. They would die before they sold them out. By the time the HLF killed them, they would be far away from the conflict.

Safe. But sure as hell not able to live with themselves.

“No.”

“What was that?” Tatiana cried, clutching the steering wheel.

“No one gets left behind, that is what Porter always said to us. We watch each other’s backs.” Yon-Soo clutched his weapon, fear slowly shrinking away in the face of a growing anger. “We’re getting them out.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Tatiana smiled as she slammed on the brakes, causing the car to squeal to a stop. She then turned the wheel, making everyone to swerve from the sudden movement.

“What the hell was that?!” demanded Sergei.

“I know where they’re taking them,” Tatiana said as she drove down the road, headed east. “They are taking them to the Wall encampment.”

“Wall encampment?”

“An HLF camp near the Great Wall of China. Their biggest camp in the entire area,” Tatiana explained. She smiled wolfishly, pushing the pedal and speeding the car to a maximum. “And I know a way to get us there.”

Comet stood up from her seat. “You do?”

“Yup. I know every little bit of that camp, scouted it so many times, it’s almost sad how easily I can get in without setting off an alarm. I also know about the secret tunnel.”

Yon-Soo’s eyes widened. “Tunnel?”

“Tunnel, in the Wall. Military must’ve built it some time ago. I found it when I was scouting around, those HLF bastards don’t even know about it,” she explained with a grin. “We need a plan, though.”

Scowling, Yon-Soo looked at the road ahead.

“Got an idea,” he said. “It’s a mad plan, but one that’ll work.”

Tires screeching and metal sparking, their car raced down the abandoned country road – this one, mercifully, largely cleared of any and all debris – as Yon-Soo Park turned to a friend of his, and announced his plan.

“Sergei? How do you feel about blowing up the Great Wall of China?”
> Sunset City Is At War
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 11: Sunset City is at War, Part One

This, Porter thought, was probably the worst place to have the faintest sign of affection for ponies.

A dank room, stripped of weaponry and armor, with their enemies waiting right outside. Someone had once said waiting was the worst torture, and Porter could believe it. He had no idea where they were going, or how long it’d been. They all had burlap sacks thrown over their heads, blocking their vision, and if he had to wager a guess, the pegasi probably had their wings tied down too. 

‘If they were lucky,’ said an insidious voice from the corner of his mind, and he struggled to convince himself that couldn’t be it. It did not rule the possibility out, Porter thought with a shudder.

He could hear snippets of Mandarin from outside, but Porter’s main attention was on the people in the cage with him.

“You PHL?” someone asked. Whoever they were, they sounded feminine, though there was an affected deepness to their voice.

“What makes you think that?” Porter retorted.

“You’ve got fancier armor than anyone else in here,” they said, and Porter couldn’t help but imagine a shrug. “Plus, you’re human, and you’re in here, and you don’t smell like potion. Who else would you be?”

“Got me there,” Porter said. “You’re right. I’m PHL.”

This… person… was silent for a second. “Well, damn. I’m so sorry. Just your bad luck this was where you got captured.” She sighed. “At least PER would end it quick.”

“Porter? Is that you?" Blizzard asked. Her voice was small, uncharacteristically scared. Not that Porter could blame her... 

“Yeah, it’s me,” Porter replied. “Did they hurt you?”

“They just bound my wings,” Blizzard answered. “Something tells me they’re saving me up or something.”

“Don’t think like that,” Porter hissed. This was already a stressful and very terrible situation; he did not want to think about the horrible things these sick fuckers would do to any of his friends...

“How can I not?!” Blizzard hissed back. “You know the stories!”

“For what it’s worth,” the unseen person said, “I’ve broken out of plenty of HLF camps. This one… has me a bit worried. You heard the stories too?”

Porter had, in fact, heard them. Stories of strange, insane Newfoals - but those were everywhere - and HLF so desperate for food thanks to bitter cold that they’d resorted to eating ponies and humans alike.

He wondered where Aitmatov and Melnik were. “Hey,” he said to his jailmate, “you seen or heard a pair of Russians being taken through here?”

“Those two Russian guys?” the person asked. “They’re being kept in a pretty faraway cell. The Russians here didn’t seem to like them.”

“Shit,” Porter sighed. “What about Hyong-Jin and Firebrand? Did you see a red and orange pegasus and a Korean man around here?”

“Yeah,” Blizzard replied. “They’re in another cell.”

“Dammit, where are we?” Porter groaned. “How do they have something so... huge?!”

“Dunno,” the person said in resignation. “Far as I can tell, it was some kind of facility before the HLF took it. I’m not good with human buildings.”

“You’re another pony?” Porter asked.

“Yeah,” she said, and that affected deepness fell out of her voice. “I’m… I’m scared.”

“And you’ve got a good reason to be,” said one human, with a guttural voice. He was speaking Russian. “Get them out. The filly and the horsefucker.”

Rough, callused, uncaring hands grabbed Porter.

“Get your hands off me, you assh-” Porter started, and before he knew it there was a clang. His head was ringing and a stinging pain spread throughout his skull. The bastards had smashed his head against one of the cage’s bars. “You sonova-”

“Don’t struggle,” said one woman with a soft, almost whispery voice. “You’ll give Tatkarov an excuse.”

Another blow caught Porter in the mouth. He tasted blood seeping in.

“Tatkarov, no,” the woman said. “The horsefucker won’t be able to survive in the Gauntlet, or a prisoner exchange if you give him a concussion.”

“And why the fuck won’t it be if I mash his head too much?” Tatkarov asked. “You going horsefucker? My old mate Lovikov, he once said that’d be an improvement.”

“Let him go!” a woman yelled in a Middle-Eastern tinted English. “You’re hurting him!”

“Kind of the point, eh?” Tatkarov asked. “Besides, if I do, I’ll get bored. If I get bored, I might just go after Tazagul again…”

“You wouldn’t,” the heavily-accented woman whispered.

“No. Totally would,” Tatkarov said. “You know I would.”

“It’s the smart thing,” the woman said. “Smart and fun aren’t always the same thing.”

“Sounds boring as shit,” Tatkarov rumbled, pushing down on Porter’s back…

Then rammed a knee up into his ribcage.

“Tatkarov!” the woman yelled.

“You said, ‘no concussion’,” Tatkarov said maliciously. “Never said nothin’ bout ribs.”

“Warlord Zhou said he’s an esteemed guest! Do you want to get on his bad side?!” the woman insisted.

“Let me go, you motherfuckers!” that person yelled, and, as the sack over his head jostled, he could see two HLF manhandling a small black filly, dragging her away, beating her with gnarled sticks if she struggled against the rope. He could see a flash of red, and - was that blood?

‘Why couldn’t I get captured by the Reavers instead?’





Sergei stared down at the camp from a spot high up on the wall. 

“Snipers,” he said. “There’s one on top of that silo over there, and one up that peak - it’ll be hard to keep out of their sight. Comet?”

“It definitely looks like they laid a few traps on the ground,” Comet said. “...There’s also a big blind spot in the guard, but…”

“Too easy?” Yon-Soo asked.

“Too easy,” Comet agreed. “They have to know about it. It’s just too obvious.”

“Probably a choke point for PER,” Sergei said. “There’s a lot of people that do that on their bases.”

“...Can we make them think the PER are attacking?” Aquamarine asked.

“And how would we do that?” Yon-Soo asked. Even though he probably didn’t mean it, there was a hint of irritation to his voice.

“Hey, it’s just a thought,” Aquamarine replied. “If only Khan and Ivan were here…”

“Well, we’ll have to pick up their slack,” Yon-Soo said, forcing a confident tone into his voice that he wasn’t sure was all that genuine.

“...You’re scared, aren’t you, Uncle Yon-Soo?” Comet asked.

“No,” Yon-Soo immediately answered. “Not… no. Not at all.”

“You sure?” Comet asked, in that prodding way kids were known to do.

“I… don’t think that’s helping, dear.” Aquamarine noted. 

“Oh, right,” Comet realized, scratching the back of her head in an embarrassed fashion. Aquamarine had to suppress a sigh; Comet was a nice filly, but she sometimes had a habit of saying the wrong things - or doing the wrong things - at the worst possible time.

Still, she was only a filly. These things were to be expected.

Not for the first time and certainly not for the last (as the last time would be on her deathbed, but that wasn’t important) Aquamarine wondered if she had done the right thing for her daughter.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked Tatiana.

“Not too far,” she said. “Though... “

“Yeah?” Aquamarine asked uneasily.

“We will need a distraction,” Tatiana said. “And…” she looked down. She paused. “Hmmm…  What if we stage a prison riot?”

“Huh?” Yon-Soo asked. “How would we even do that?”

“You kidding?” Sergei asked. “Knowing Melnik, it won’t be long.”

“But how would we know?” Comet asked, touching down next to Sergei, looking at his scope. “It’s not like we have a live feed… or a way to send a message…”

“Why don’t we make one?” Tatiana asked. 

“Yeah,” Yon-Soo realized. “We could send a message in. Find a prisoner, or a pony on the grounds, jump in, and rescue them during the chaos! Brilliant!”

“Sounds risky,” Tatiana said. “But we don’t have the numbers to attack them if they’re as composed as they are right now.”

“Shame,” Sergei said. “Wait. Do you have a sniper? We could pick off the guards outside during the riot. Could cause even more confusion.”

Yon-Soo groaned. It really felt like Porter made all this stuff look easy...





To put it as subtly as possible, Tatkarov looked as ugly as he’d sounded. His face looked like someone had used it as cover to protect themselves from a shrapnel bombing, an acid bombing, a molotov cocktail, or all of the above. Worst of all, he had a patchy mustache with tiny little bald spots between some of the hairs. Hideous.

Currently, he was manhandling Porter down a hallway, followed by a slender woman with a Kalashnikov.

The building was surprisingly well-decorated for an HLF fortress. Maybe not a palace, but it certainly had its own charms.

“Hey!” Porter said, staring over at one painting on a wall. “That’s been missing for months! We were supposed to be evacuating that on the train!”

“Certain parties,” Tatkarov explained, “thought that it was better out of the hands of horsefuckers. Or hooves. But there’s not much difference with you petukhs, is there?”

Porter just simply glared daggers at him, deciding to save words to the big boss.

“Oh, what’s the matter?” Tatkarov laughed. “No witty comments? No insults? No defending yourself for withholding food from refugees?”

Porter bit his tongue. They were trying to rile him up. Trying to make him give them an excuse to punch his teeth out. Well, he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

Though he noticed something odd about this hallway. The tapestries on the wall. The paintings, crammed in by every inch, sometimes eclipsed by stolen statuary that had likely been taken from private galleries with no regard for anyone trying to view them. The hardwood tables and other furniture with various objets d’art crowding every square-inch.

It had been thrown together, cluttered with all the finesse of his little brother when he’d tried to fit all of his stuffed animals on his bed. 

But underneath it all, the corridor would have been bare, utilitarian. Though it would have been hard to guess, the hallway surrounding them was bare and clinical. As Porter would expect for a facility like this. It was like this base was trying to be sophisticated through the beauty it was outwardly projecting, but failing because it didn’t understand beauty - it just saw that it had a use.

At the end of the hallway, there was a set of doors - iron-gray, slightly rusted, badly clashing with the works of art lining the hallway. Porter considered this. Why not?

“The boss has been eager to see you,” Tatkarov said. “Seems somebody’s been running raids on his guys. Keeping our meal tickets-”

‘...What?’ Porter thought. ‘The hell? Are they cannibals?!’ 

He hoped they weren’t, anyway.

“-out of our hands. It’s a thankless job,” Tatkarov finished, singsong, “But somebody’s got to do it.” He held up one hand, and in the high-pitched voice a child might use while holding a stuffed animal they couldn’t use as a puppet, squeaked out through one side of his mouth: “Got to do it!”

‘Who even sings about that sort of thing?’ Porter wondered

Tatkarov held open one of the doors, and threw Porter into the room, almost effortlessly.

It looked like it had been an office of some kind, judging by the windows, the radiator, and the moderately comfortable surroundings. A leather chair - earth leather, not the pony leather HLF were rumored to use - sat behind a large mahogany desk. Various paintings lined the room, and at least one sketch of a man sat behind the armchair.

In the armchair, however, sat a man who did not quite seem to fit in his armor. A Chinese man, maybe in his thirties, with smooth fair skin, brown eyes and short jet-black hair. He was of average height from what Porter could tell, but he definitely gave off an air that he was one to be feared.

He was unmistakable: Feng Gui Zhou. Captives of his would never be released. Rumored to be inescapable. He fashioned himself a warlord, and he had a sadistic streak a mile wide.

“Do you like the sketch?” Zhou asked conversationally. He was so calm and affable, it was rather unsettling. “There was a colt with considerable mouth-drawing talent. I told him I would let him and his family live if he finished the painting. Unfortunately, the guards were too rough with his remaining family, and he died not knowing. These things happen, you understand.”

Porter decided he wasn’t going to humor the warlord, who looked like he wanted to draw a reaction out of him.

“Oh come now, I just want to have a chat,” Zhou said, sounding rather genuinely offended that Porter wasn’t answering him. “I am not rash.”

Porter, even though he hated himself for it, decided to respond. “Fine, I’ll give you a few minutes.”

Zhou amiably smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He then asked, “Do you ever get that feeling?”

“What feeling?” demanded Porter.

“That this is no longer our world,” Zhou replied. “The human race is obsolete. We are in the middle of being replaced by a bunch of weirdly-colored freaks of nature, who, if anything else, prove that if God exists, He has a lousy sense of humor.”

“If you’re hoping to get under my skin, forget it,” Porter retorted, though privately, he found himself immediately praying the warlord wouldn’t literally take him up on his word. “I’ve faced down scarier motherfuckers than you, Zhou. You’re just small fry compared to the real enemy, and we both know it.”

Nonetheless, the other man’s words had touched upon some hidden, sensitive spot within him. Because in a way, it was true. Firebrand, Blizzard, Aquamarine and Comet, they were his friends, his comrades, almost felt like his family at times. The bond that had grown between them ran deep, deeper than many people came to share in their entire lifetimes. Yet it was this war which had brought them together like that. If there’d been no war, he’d likely have never known them. If mankind had never met the Equestrians, there may have been no war.

“Come now, Mister Stanley,” Zhou said amiably, pouring two glasses of qīng xiāng baiju. “There’s really no need for this macho bullshit. I am not interested in measuring the size of my staff with yours.” He set down on of the glasses on the table in front of Porter. “It isn’t worthy of the true measure of a man. A man is one who doesn’t fear what others think of him.”

It seemed wisest to say nothing in reply to that. Despite the warlord’s calm demeanour, Porter suspected that he might already have said too much. But for the moment, Zhou appeared to make good on his claims, and showed no sign of wishing him harm. Instead, as he sat down with the other glass in hand, beaming, he was looking surprisingly companionable.

“Of course, you do realize I’ve got no intention of letting your geldo friends go,” said Zhou. “Aside from anything else, my people grow easily restless. Perhaps you think our ways are cruel, but it would be crueller still to deny them their fun. However, you are human, and that is a different matter. You understand what’s been taken from my people, what they have lost.”

“Yes,” Porter said quietly, eyes downcast. “But you’ve lost something we haven’t. Not yet.”

Zhou didn’t so much as blink. “Oh, please. As though you’ve never done anything deplorable on your way here. Word travels fast around these parts, you know. That firestorm your little friend unleashed over Erenhot? Yes, I know about that, don’t act so surprised. But I don’t judge you. I know why you did it. Anything’s better than becoming one of them. That doesn’t make it any less horrible.” He took a sip of his baiju. “Here, I suggest you try this drink. Perhaps it’ll help dull the pain.”

Slowly, Porter reached out for the glass. Whatever selection of ghastly demises Zhou may have in store for him, he suspected that poisoning hardly ranked as one. After swilling the contents a little, he brought the glass to his lips. Much to his surprise, the stuff tasted pretty good. Doubtless the warlord kept the best for himself.

“Like it?” asked Zhou. When Porter reluctantly nodded, he smiled approvingly. “Out here, we make do with what we can get our hands on. I’m sorry, it probably isn’t much, compared to what you’re used to from back home. But I’d be a poor host if I had nothing to offer a stranger under my roof. Except for geldos, naturally.”

“I thought you said you didn’t fear what others thought of you.”

The warlord’s smile didn’t falter, but his eye flashed dangerously. “That is most impolite, Mister Stanley,” he said in an oily voice. “Ah, Westerners. The sheer arrogance. Think your white skin makes you so much more special than everyone else, like you’re the chosen people.”

“Look,” Porter replied with an exasperated roll in his eyes, “While I’d love to fool myself into believing there’s some sort of scenario which involves me leaving here without you killing my friends, my pony friends most of all, or you setting me up to kill them myself in order to prove a point, it’s so obviously not going to happen. So can we please cut the bullshit and get to what you really want from me?”

“What I really want from you?” echoed Zhou, with an affectation of surprise. “But isn’t that crystal clear? All I want to do is show you that I’m human, like you are. What, am I supposed to have horns, fangs? I’m not a monster, Porter. Does that thought flood you with disappointment? Break the cozy little narrative of good guys and bad guys I’m sure you’ve built up in your mind?” He paused for another strange smile. “Shows how great the Mint Dyke was at what she did, I guess. Listening to her speak, one almost did think she truly believed in all that bleeding heart talk of hers, about how the true enemy is hatred, how the Solar Tyrant will win unless we stand united. No wonder her madness was so contagious.”

Suddenly, a wave of anger washed over Porter. His fingers tightened around the cup, knuckles growing white. “Don’t you dare insult the Ambassador.”

“The poor, deluded mare,” said Zhou, undaunted. “Can you call it an insult if it’s true?”

“It isn’t true,” growled Porter. “And that’s what people like you will never understand. Ambassador Heartstrings loved the human race.”

“Ah, yes. The human race. But which human race?”

Porter blinked at the odd question. However, before he could comment, the warlord pursued his discourse.

“A gentle, soft-spoken person, your Ambassador Heartstrings. Not made for war, that one, even if she turned out quite good at it. Your Commander Renee’s influence must have played a big part in that. Shame, really. If the world were a different place, I might have even liked her. Remember how I said your machismo bores me, Porter? Ask my men, any of men, and they’ll tell you it’s true – I do have a taste for what’s sweet and delicate.”

As if on cue, Porter heard someone enter through the tent-flap. Reluctant to provoke the warlord anymore than he felt absolutely necessary, he resisted the urge to turn around. Fortunately for his patience, he didn’t need to, as the newcomer marched in and stood themselves to attention at his side. It was a young woman, Chinese by the looks of her, with close-cropped dark hair and a pale constitution.

Then Zhou gave her a nod, and as, after bowing to the warlord, she leant forward to place something on the table, she briefly glanced in his direction, Porter was struck by the look in her eyes. They weren’t pleading, or hateful, or even interested in him at all, none of what he might have expected from a twenty-something woman in this camp. She saw him, and her gaze reflected nothing but utter, cold indifference.

“Thank you, my dear,” Zhou smiled at her. “You may leave.”

After bowing to him once more, the woman obliged. Porter knew better than to watch her depart. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed on what she’d placed at the table. And this was what surprised him most of all. He wasn’t sure what he’d been awaiting. A severed head, perhaps? Or the wings and horns that some HLF liked to keep as trophies? Regardless, this wasn’t it at all. Yet he recognized what lay on the table before him.

‘What the hell is he trying to prove?’ Porter thought to himself. He almost had to wonder if this was some kind of joke.

“You know what this is, don’t you?” asked Zhou, reading his thoughts.

Despite himself, Porter nodded. “Yeah. It’s Venus from Milky Way and the Galaxy Girls.”

Zhou nodded in return. “I thought you would.”

Pink, fuchsia and lavender all over – the demure, ladylike yet energetic figure of Venus, kicking her legs out with cartoonishly oversized feet fitted into a pair of rollerskates, stared back at him through twinkling eyes. Of course he knew what this was. Even without that memorable evening when a drunken Hyong-Jin had started singing the theme tune of the beloved kids’ show, Porter was both young and old enough to remember when it had proven a runaway hit to more than its target audience for people worldwide. One young adult male cousin of his had declared himself as a ‘Stargazer’ shortly before Equestria made contact, he recalled.

“Pretty little thing, isn’t she?” commented Zhou, who was looking thoughtfully at the doll.

Porter glanced at him, taken aback. “Venus? Well, I’d call her cute, I suppose…”

“I wasn’t talking about the doll.”

Now, the warlord’s eyes were fixed on the opening through which the woman had just left. “Her name is Lan. Don’t you think she’s pretty?”

Wherever this was going, Porter was sure that either way, it wouldn’t be good for him. There could be no additional harm in answering honestly.

“Yeah, sure,” he said quietly. “She's very pretty. Rather cold, though, isn’t she? Can I assume you ordered her not to speak with me, or any other prisoners?”

“Surprisingly enough, no,” Zhou said glibly. “She couldn’t care less about you. I don’t need to order her to do anything. Compassion, mercy, it’s already all been hammered out of her. Her mind is set on only one thing, revenge, and her heart is cold, so very cold.”

Porter felt his anger begin to return. “Why, you…” he began in a low, icy voice. “What have you done to her?”

“Now, now, why must you immediately assume I’m the one who did this to her? Shall I tell you Lan’s story?”

There was a new edge to his voice now, one that Porter had known lay under his pleasant demeanour all along. Yet he still found it unsettling to witness the warlord’s façade begin to break.

“Lan started working at fourteen years of age. Working twelve-hour shifts, seven days a week, in a factory where temperatures would rise to over 100° Fahrenheit in the summer. A thankless, sweating job, which earned her less than one American dollar per hour and served her pig food for lunch. At night, Lan and her friends would sleep in filthy, cramped dormitories infested with rats, lice and cockroaches.”

As he spoke, Zhou rose up from his seat, circling around the table which separated him from Porter. The latter remained stock still, his senses on full alert, ready for the blow when it came, as there was no doubt in his mind that it would come very soon. The only question was what shape it would take, and from which direction.

“One day, a fire broke out at her workplace…” the warlord said quietly. “Blame shoddy maintenance for that. Anyway, she and her friends panicked. They didn’t know what to do, the factory managers had never bothered to give them fire drills. Couldn’t waste time and money on their workers’ safety, now, could they? So they tried to escape. Problem was, the emergency exits were locked. Why, I cannot say. Maybe to prevent the girls from sneaking out five minutes for a smoke, perhaps, or just to use the bathroom without having to ask permission. I don’t know. Neither does Lan, to this very day.” Zhou sighed wearily. “So very sad. But do you know what it was all about? For what did those girls have to die?”

Porter Stanley was waiting now. Careful to appear as though he was staring dead ahead, his trained soldier’s eyes took in every little detail inside the tent, keeping a lookout for anything that could help him during the following few minutes. Likely a futile effort, but one should never let one’s training go to waste.

“This.”

Suddenly, a complete change overtook Zhou. With a roar of fury, he upended the table in one swoop, sending it crashing at Porter’s feet. Although his practiced anticipation dulled most of the shock this might have caused him, Porter could only do so much against momentum. The reverberation tipped his chair, knocking him in a rather undignified heap to the floor.

Before he had time to regain his bearings, he felt a rough, iron hand grasp him by the scruff of his uniform. He’d half-expected to hear the sound of a gun being cocked next to his temple, but Zhou seemed confident enough in his current advantage to dispense from threatening him with a weapon. Besides, the warlord was using his other hand to point at something on the ground in front of him.

“That’s the human race I know, Porter,” Zhou hissed, pointing.

The doll had been battered by the table’s fall, yet it was still recognizably Venus. Then Zhou brought down a heavy leather boot onto her face, and the Galaxy Girl was flattened to pieces, no longer identifiable as something meant to appear human-shaped. Porter glimpsed one of her embroidered purple eyes fly out of its socket, the stitching hanging loose from the remains of the head and upper body, which resembled nothing less than a pink-and-red paste beneath the imprint which the boot had left.

“She enters this world, experiences warmth, brightness and color for a few happy years. Then she gets crushed underfoot, sucked dry, is forced to spend her life crawling on her belly. Her body and soul wither... joy and kindness are things she only receives, or gives, in brief, cruelly short snatches of mercy. Yet still I fight for her. What, exactly, are you fighting for? No,” Zhou said sharply, raising his hand in warning as Porter opened his mouth. “You will be quiet. Did you think all this was one of your Hollywood movies? ‘I’ll go to a foreign country, play the hero, and lead them into enlightenment’? Look. For once in your life, just LOOK at what you never really saw before.”

Porter did look. And saw the words written on the sole of Venus’s endearingly large rollerskates.

Made in China.

“This has always been your world, American. You just didn’t know it.”

Porter stared at him for a moment before he began to laugh, catching Zhou off guard with his apparent laughter. 

“What’s so funny?” the warlord asked through clenched teeth, clearly not appreciating the American finding some kind of humor in this.

“Oh yeah, it’s ‘my’ world,” Porter said through snorting giggles, though the amusement was far from his eyes. “America controls the world, that old spindle. What’s the word I am looking for? Bullshit.”

“What was that?”

“Well for one thing, and I’ll say straight out, yeah, there’s the whole ‘world police force’ image and all, but really? North Korea and South Korea were at a tense ceasefire until the war was declared, and they would’ve been able to peacefully settle things but then the North got incinerated to a radioactive crisp thanks to you and the Russians. And the Middle East? I mean, man, don’t even get me started on the calamity left there! But at least they were able to put their differences aside, even if they’re also displaced by the Barrier. Funny how the apocalypse can make everyone get their priorities straightened out, and even bring out the best and worst out of people. Their real character even,” Porter finished with a grin.

Porter chuckled as he stared up to Zhou. “No, really. Let me guess… your whole life, you’ve felt like a nobody. And then this war happened and you could finally be a somebody by volunteering in this war and giving into every sick, inhuman thought you’ve ever had and get back at the world for not paying you any attention. Am I right so far?”

A vein twitched in the other man’s neck.

“And you like having an excuse,” Porter continued before he took a look around to study the immaculately decorated tent. “And clearly you're enjoying the whole Bond villain thing going on here. If you were really in the triads like the dossier said, you’d be the messenger boy nobody thought twice about shooting.”

“I was a big man in there!” Zhou snarled. 

“If you say so.”

“Don’t you Americans ever shut up?!”

“Our political system is based on who talks best. And you started it.” Porter gave Zhou a small smile, even as the fury on Zhou’s face was mounting. “Don’t tell a military man how this works.  Everything not connected to us used to be made in China, before the economy got radically shifted by this little apocalypse.”

“I take back what I just said. One should expect an American to completely miss the point of every… last… thing. Call yourself a good guy, Porter, when your first reaction to what I just told is to smart-ass me? But enough chit-chat,” the look on Zhou’s face was priceless, so far as Porter was concerned. Never before had he seen a man look so purple. “Bring in the horse!”

“What? I’m not into that sort of thing!” Porter joked. “Maybe we should set up a safew–”

Whatever Porter had been talking about there, this wasn't it. His voice trailed off at that incoming sound...

“Hey! Let me go you asswipes!” a brash, yet young voice yelled out. Porter turned to see a small, coal-black unicorn filly with a blue-black mane and a tail with red highlights being dragged from her tail. Her cutie mark was of a yellow ‘flammable’ warning sign.

“What’s wrong, Zhou?” Porter growled as he mocked the self-styled warlord, trying to maintain the deranged man’s attention. “Didn’t like what I had to say?”

“You filthy little shits have been alive long enough!” Zhou proclaimed as he reached down and yanked the filly by her mane. “Especially you, the loudest of the shitstains.”

“Yeah?! Don’t like it when a little filly shows your men-Argh!”

The filly cried out as Zhou shook her roughly. He look down at Porter, a sly smile on his face as he grabbed the filly by the neck and picked her up to head level. He raised his free hand to her face, gently tracing a single finger down from her neck to her belly, slowly tracing circles on her barrel that caused her to freeze up at the touch.

“I wonder how you will taste,” he whispered, gently squeezing her hips and rubbed her mark before moving his hand to her inner thighs, causing the normally brash sounding filly to whimper. “Sending you ponies into the Pit gives the meat of your bodies such... intense flavoring.”

“S-stop,” the filly whispered with growing revulsion and fear, his hands squeezing, working their way lower and lower down her barrel. She gave a small gasp as he pinched her inner thigh, before the man slapped her across the face harshly, causing her to cry out from the pain.

“We learned the longer a pony is alive in the Pits, being tenderized by our hands, the more tasteful the meat becomes.” Zhou chuckled as he gave filly’s ear a long lick, before biting down on it, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Zhou, you sick fuck, she’s only a kid!” Porter snarled. 

“No. She’s a pony,” Zhou said. “Distinctions like that don’t matter for filth like her. Besides, the Pit is where she is going.”

“Pit?”

“An arena for our… guests.” Zhou chuckled darkly, as he tossed the filly to his waiting men, all of them licking their lips as they grabbed her. “She will fight until she dies, then onto the next pony, and the next, and the next. If the guests refuse to fight, then we shoot them both.”

Porter glared daggers at Zhou, the promise of death was clear in his eyes before turning to the filly was crying from her abuse. “What’s your name?”

“Huh?”

“What’s your name?”

“C-coal, Coal Embers.”

“Well Miss Embers, I promise you here and now, they will not lay a hand on you,” Porter promised, only to Zhou tilt his head back and laugh.

“Oh is that so! Tell me. Why is that?”

“Because you are a piece of shit that doesn’t deserve to be called a human. In fact, far as the PER and the Empire are concerned… you’re plenty human. In all the ways they just love cutting out of us,” Porter countered, staring directly into Zhou’s eyes as he said this, causing the entire room to freeze up at the insult he just threw. Porter decided if he was going into the Pit, he would throw all the chips on the table. “Much less a man or a ‘warlord’. Not an inspiring title, I can tell you that. You could go with ‘general, or ‘commissar’, Grand High Wizard, but no, ‘Warlord’. At least try to pretend you want to help.”

“Your PHL called me warlord,” Zhou retorted. “I didn't choose it.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re so offended being called that,” Porter said, rolling his eyes. “What with keeping the title this whole time. I’ve heard the stories of what you’ve done, Zhou. We were told to spend as little time in Mongolia as possible, because of what we heard about you.”

“I protect this land!” Zhou yelled.

“Which is why you’re the only ones left in it,” Porter said. “Clearly. Everyone here’s behind you, very, very far b-”


“ENOUGH!” Zhou roared. “DO YOU TAKE JOY IN PISSING ME OFF?!”

“I know what HLF do to people they call race-traitors,” Porter said coldly, and for a second, Zhou seemed to… stagger. Just the slightest bit. “As long as you’re not enjoying this, then I’m calling that a victory.”

“I’ll at least enjoy what I do to her,” Zhou hissed, something almost reptilian in his voice.

Porter sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine. I guess I’ll have to channel my inner Katniss and say I volunteer as tribute.”

“Eager to spill your own blood then, I see.”

“First, you would’ve forced my friends out if I didn’t. Second, I think you forgot who I am.” Porter leaned in, smirking. “I am a United States Marine. I am worth more than any and all of your men in any fight. You will be dragging their bodies out of the ring by the minute.”

Zhou snarled as he stormed away huffing, and irritatedly declared, “We will see, won’t we, you mangy dog?!”

“How dare you. For the record, I fancy myself a Maine Coon,” Porter replied in the most deadpan tone possible. Zhou didn’t seem to have heard it. ‘Why is ‘dog’ even an insult, anyway?’ he wondered.

“A rodent?” Zhou asked, pointedly confused. Porter would have found it funny were the circumstances vastly different.





“Maine Coon. That was a good one.”

Zhou did not turn to face the one who’d just spoken. “Miss Cutter,” he said curtly, arms crossed behind his back. “You sound amused.”

“The places humans will go to always amuses me,” said Cutter from behind him. “ You don’t see what a big joke it all is. None of you except a very few. It is pretty funny. Almost cute, yes.”

“Yes, well,” Zhou said through gritted teeth, “you had better start showing results soon. Otherwise I might grow tired of your posturing, and find some way to make you more entertaining…”

“You mean the Pit?” Cutter asked blandly. “Bring it on. Sounds like fun to me.”

“Or I could simply kill you,” Zhou snipped. “That would be less fun, but just as effective.”

He sensed her approaching, though her catlike tread made almost no noise upon the ground. “Okay,” said Cutter, in what, for her, was almost a placating tone. “Perhaps I can amuse you too. Do you want to hear a joke?”

“I am in no mood–”

“Please,” she interrupted. “I think you will like it. Response to the American’s parting shot. Might be good for future use.”

Zhou suppressed a sigh. Cutter’s sense of humor was rather different from most people’s, but she had, all in all, proven herself an unexpectedly valuable asset. If she could make the final delivery on the promise she’d made, listening to her prattle off some punchline in her deadpan, disjointed manner of speech was a small sacrifice to pay.

“Fine, what is it?”

Next to him, the overturned table was picked up by Cutter, seemingly no worse for the wear. “Symbol of the United States. National animal on its seal. What is it?”

“Everyone knows that,” Zhou grumbled, keeping the impatience out of his voice. “It’s a bald eagle.”

The warlord heard a soft ‘thump’ as the table was carefully re-righted, its legs falling gently back to the ground.

“Correct.” Cutter said. Not a turkey. Does look a bit like a turkey, yes. But a turkey is a fat silly bird. Some would say its only real use is food. Not very inspiring as a symbol.” He heard her pause, with the sound of light grains scratchily blowing across woodwork indicating that she was dusting the table. “Only logical choice for America. An eagle. Very proud bird. Very fierce looking.”

Having finished dusting, Cutter marched over to face him. “One person didn’t like it though. Important person, yes.”

“And who might that be?” demanded Zhou.

“Benjamin Franklin,” Cutter said plainly. “He did not like the bald eagle. Called it a bird of bad moral character. Does not get its living honestly. A rank coward. A thief.”

Zhou, glancing down, waited for her to say more, but Cutter remained silent, as though expecting some comment. At last, he spoke up again.

“So… what’s the joke?”

Cutter fixed him with a stare from that piercing ebony gaze of hers, one eye hidden as always behind a straight, olive mane, and he tried not to shudder. Damn these ponies’ uncannily big eyes. They all had them, but Cutter’s felt worse than most, as she never seemed to blink.

“That was the joke.”

‘This mare. This. Fucking. Mare.’

If Zhou had his way, that confidence would’ve been beaten out of her a hundred times over, for the incredible crime of making him feel… like he did before the war. For the crime of being a pony, yes, but most of all, for making them need her. How the horsefuckers like the Marine he’d taken prisoner could bear working with ponies, he had no idea, but he’d come to the conclusion they needed the gluesticks, so they tolerated them.

Surely Porter – and if not him, someone else in the PHL, perhaps another of their prisoners – had to hate the kickstands. It’d just need a push, and the horsefuckers could come swarming into the HLF ranks, come the right… incentives. 

“I see…” Zhou said slowly. “Your punchlines need work, Miss Cutter.”

She shrugged modestly. “I know. Never was much of a talker. I try my best.”

“I assume you didn’t come in here just to tell me bad jokes,” said Zhou, an edge to his voice.

The goldenrod mare before him nodded once, sharp, a gesture which, like her shrug, turned out so mechanically, she almost looked just like one of the merry-go-round toys he saw in her and all her accursed kind.

“No,” said Cutter. “I come with a message from Jiangshi.”

Zhou drew in a sharp breath.





“Out,” the HLF man said, holding a large revolver to Khan’s head. His revolver.

“That’s mine,” Khan snarled, looking right into the muzzle.

“That so? I thought this’d be the American’s,” the man said, inspecting it. “Here’s hoping I’m a better owner than you.” Abruptly, he reversed his grip and drove the butt of the pistol into Khan’s jaw.

He fell over, gasping, clutching his face.

“So that thing still works, huh?” the man asked. “Guess I gotta work on my swing.”

“Ack, hey watch it, assface!” Blizzard growled as another man with a bald head roughly grabbed her by her mane. In response to her yelling, the man roughly threw her to the ground and kicked her in the belly.

“Blizzard!” Aitmatov yelled, only to get a boot in the jaw again.

“Ah, look, I think he’s a horsefucker!” another man said in a mockingly sweet voice.

“You hurt Blizzard,” Aitmatov said, from his position on the floor, “And I will paralyze you one limb at a time.”

“Ooohhh, I’m so scared,” the assailant replied mockingly.

“You should be,” Aitmatov snarled, teeth red with blood. “You know how you HLF bastards like to tell the people you have at gunpoint what horrible, gratuitous threat you’re planning on? I’m not going to do that. I’m just going to make it up as I go along. And I am going to do things to you limp-dicked, uncreative little Shluha vokzal'naja that you’ll wish you’d never could have thought up.”

“No,” the assailant said, kicking him in the stomach. “You won’t. And even if you do… right now, I’m the one with the gun.” 

Mei Ling, who had also been roughly thrown to the floor, gave Aitmatov a look. ‘Stay calm, we need a plan if we want to get out of this alive,’ she said with that look.

Notably, Firebrand disturbingly wasn’t putting up much of a fight. He looked almost emotionally dead.

“I like ‘em better when they fight,” one HLF woman sighed. “So… boring otherwise. I might as well be cutting up a mannequin otherwise.”

“Otyebis ot menya, yobanaya suka! Yob materi vashi!” Ivan was yelling at the HLF that were dragging him up. It was taking three to restrain him. 


“Okay,” the woman said. “That, that’s more like it!”

“Where the hell are you taking us?!” Ivan yelled. “What the hell is this?!”

“Entertainment,” another HLF man answered. “You think you PHL have a monopoly or somethin’? We’re out here, fighting off the PER. We have needs, same as anyone else.”

The hallway opened onto a strip of land not too far from the edge of a huge cliff. Deep below, there was a large assortment of destroyed prefabs, wrecked cars, and twisted metal.

It looked like a short box canyon, more than anything. At the ends of the canyon, there was a fence made of jagged metal and bits of wood, obviously meant to keep people from just running out one end. If the HLF on what looked like bleachers just above the fence didn’t shoot them, anyway. Not counting said bleachers, a wide, magnet-shaped assortment of seats lined the cliffs, providing the HLF of this camp with a view of almost every section of the arena.

The ‘best’ seats, if you could call them that, were awide array of cages hanging by thick, rusty chains over the edge of the cliff. Wretched-looking ponies and humans alike languished inside, trying to shrink back against the bars into what little shade they had.

“Behold the Pit, ladies, gentlemen, and gluesticks,” an HLF woman said proudly. 

“FLAWLESS VICTORY FOR SUNTHORN!” an announcer called out from a high tower, her voice amplified through speakers arranged throughout the arena. From what Blizzard could see, she was clad all in leather, studded, arranged with rainbow-colored feathers of random birds, and…

No. They were from pegasi. Despite the heat of the area, Blizzard somehow felt cold. And those spikes… weren’t horns, were they?

“You see ‘em, don’t you?” The HLF woman standing nearby cackled. “Yasemin? We call her the Queen of Obscene, and she won all those. In the Pit, like anyone else. With luck, you’ll be willing to…” she licked her lips. 

“COMING UP NEXT,” Yasemin’s voice boomed, “A CHALLENGER FROM THE PHL! LET’S SHOW THIS HORSEFUCKER HOW REAL HUMANS FIGHT, YEAH?!”

And everyone in the stands was all cheering at her proclamation. A heavyset earth pony covered in so much blood it was hard to see the color of his fur, his limbs bent at unnatural angles, was being dragged out of the improvised stadium.

“BUT LET’S HOPE!” Yasemin bellowed, “HE DOES BETTER THAN PLOWSHARE DID AGAINST SRDAN MARTINOVIC! THE MOUNTAIN! OF! MONTENEGRO! SO MUCH FOR EARTH PONY STRENGTH, HUH?!”

A man, not tall so much as large, so wide, so muscled above his wide gut that he looked almost deformed, was posing, roaring, flexing his rippling muscles in the arena. He was looking at one cage that was being steadily winched down into the pit.

The occupant, a wretched-looking creature in tattered fatigues, was shivering.

“Gave the merry-go-round-toy what he deserved!” someone cried out in what sounded for all the world like a Deep South accent from America. ‘A deserter?’ Blizzard wondered. Behind her, Firebird was sluggishly trotting along, eyes and ears drooped downwards.

Overlooking the sides of the cliff were what looked like arena seats. In watchtowers mounted just behind the seats, and on a perch at the top of the hill, were–

“Snipers,” Khan hissed. “In every tower. Just over the ridge. And that’s just the ones I can see.”

“Think I can outfly them?” Blizzard asked.

“One, maybe,” an HLF man said. “The rest? Not so much. Your kind has tried to escape. We never let ‘em.” he licked his lips. “That one…” he pointed to Firebrand. “Probably won’t be doing much of anything.

“Duly noted,” Khan said dryly.

“Um, guys?” Firebrand asked,  looking over the edge of the cliff.

“What is i-” Ivan asked, looking over the side. “Khan, Blizzard! It’s Porter!”

“What?” Blizzard asked, fluttering upwards…

Only for an HLF man to point a Kalashnikov at her face. “Don’t,” he said, though clearly he’d enjoy it if she did.

“Oh no,” Mei Ling gasped in dread, voice barely rising above a whisper.

The man in the cage being lowered into the Pit was, indeed, Porter.

“I’VE GOT A MESSAGE FROM THE WARLORD FOR THE MARINE DOWN THERE],” Yasemin’s voice boomed. “HE CAN SAVE HIMSELF AND HIS FRIENDS BY GIVING US THE LOCATION OF THOSE HORSEFUCKERS THAT’VE BEEN PISSING US OFF! OR BRAVE THE PIT?!”

There was a chorus of requests for both. Someone on a balcony jutting out just close enough to Porter’s cage held a microphone to Porter’s face.

“Fuck,” Porter said, in slow, deliberate Mandarin, “You. Those people showed more humanity in an hour than you guys have all year.”

The cage dropped down, a little more unceremoniously than before, and Porter shook, disoriented by the sudden motion, clinging to the bars for dear life.

And then, all of a sudden, it stopped.

“OOH, STIRRING STUFF! BEFORE WE DROP HIM IN!” Yasemin added, “THE OFFER IS NOT NULL AND VOID] JUST BECAUSE YOU SAID NO, PORTER STANLEY! COMING UP HERE IS THE WARLORD, READY TO EXPLAIN IT HIMSELF!”

Porter yelled something rude up at her.

“THE PAIN CAN STOP ANYTIME, PORTER!” Zhou called out from the booth that Yasemin had taken. “YOU JUST HAVE TO SAY WHERE THOSE PHL ARE, AND THE PAIN STOPS! AND YOUR FRIENDS GO FREE!”

Porter flipped him off.

“WHAT’S THE MATTER?!” Zhou yelled. “I THOUGHT YOU PHL WERE ALL ABOUT FRIENDSHIP! YOU’RE SO WILLING TO LET THEM DIE?!”

Porter remained stoic as the cage inched towards the ground. The man-mountain Srdan, muscles so rippling that they seemed wrong somehow, like parasitic growths crawling just beneath his skin, cracked his knuckles.

“Zdravo,” Srdan said. “Zovem se Srdan Martinovic. I break you.”

“Well then,” Porter shot back, “Let’s see you try.”





“So, what’d you see, Comet?” Tatiana asked.

Comet narrowed her eyes to focus, seeming older than a foal her age had any right to look. “There’s… it looks like an arena. Full of cheering crowds. Armed people in what I hope is pre-war leather.” She looked almost sick.

“Dear-god,” Sergei breathed, blending the two words into one syllable.

“Are our friends there?” Aquamarine asked.

“It’s too far away to tell,” Comet answered.

“Can you… can you go back to the hospital? Ask for help?” Yon-Soo asked.

Tatiana shook her head. “We’d die. There’s about four HLF for each one of us. We’ve been pissing them off for the last eleven months or so, so chances are high that they would be expecting us.”

“So it’s up to us,” Sergei said, fingers tap-tapping on his gun. “Doesn’t seem very fair for them, huh?”

He was lying.

Deep down, Sergei was scared out of his mind. And really, so was everyone else. Melnik and Aitmatov claimed to have fought entire armies before, but they’d had backup. They had automatic grenade launchers. They had air support. They had all the advantages of a modern military. 

Meanwhile, they were a pegasus filly, a unicorn mare, a woman with a bow and arrow, and then just him and Yon-Soo. Not even close to an army. But… they would do it, anyway. Wouldn’t they.

‘If I left, how often would I look up at the stars and think ‘what would’ve happened if I had just been brave?’ Sergei thought. ‘Someone has to be. For everyone left.’

Everyone was solemnly quiet for a good few minutes, before Comet shrunk back, behind Aquamarine. “I’m scared, Mommy,” she choked out, looking down at the ground in shame.

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Sergei told her.

Aquamarine put a foreleg around Comet reassuringly and replied, “So am I, honey. We all are.”

“If the worst happens, is there… is there an escape route, Tatiana?” Sergei asked.

She bit her lip and replied, “Well… there is this tunnel. It cuts under the wall, it’s kind of cramped, and the wood we use to hold it up… may not be that stable. But it’s what we have. We’ve used it to help get people, ponies and supplies out to the coast. There are people there that will get you over to Indonesia, no questions asked. Best bet you’ve got.”

“But is it safe?”

Tatiana looked to consider this.

Comet looked over at Tatiana, backing away slowly. Aquamarine tapped one foreleg to the ground, impatiently.

“...Yes?” Tatiana asked. 

“Tatiana, why did that sound like a question…” Comet said, voice trailing off, not quite asking her new friend. 

“Because the HLF have an idea of where we are, now,” Tatiana said. “I’m not sure they won’t have found it. But there’s probably other tunnels and routes if you want to–”

“Look,” Yon-Soo said firmly, looking down at both Aquamarine and Comet. “You two still can go ahead. If this fails, you and Comet can use that escape route to get to the PHL in Indonesia. I’ve heard the president’s been doing great things, you’ll be safe.”

“...Oh. Hell. No,” Aquamarine retorted through gritted teeth. “I’ve lost too much to just chicken out here.”

“And… if we do that,  we won’t be with you,” Comet said, looking down at the ground. Her lip quivered as she choked out, “I don’t want to lose you guys too…”

Tatiana took a deep breath, the scowl on her face darkening. “We’ve all lost something dear to us. Me? I’ve lost my home, my parents, my babushka, my old life, my old dreams… and…”

Tears began to spill down her face as she choked out, “Nicholas… And it’s my fault. I should’ve done more.”

They didn’t know what she was talking about, but that story could not have been too different from anyone else’s of losing someone close to the Empire. Many, too many people had been swept up in the madness before the war, and come for new bodies or new lives… only to come out wiped away as a clean slate, their souls and minds gone beyond any recovery. 

Doctor Erika Kraber had once postulated that Equestrian agents like Catseye and Jacqueline Reitman’s other lackeys had used suggestion spells and pheromones to convince people to ponify themselves, and in the absence of any other theory, it seemed to make sense. That, and some of the people that had endorsed the potion had once been alternative medicine advocates.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who was Nicholas?” Yon-Soo asked.

“My little brother,” Tatiana answered. “He had a... severe form of cerebral palsy, which made moving around and talking clearly very difficult for him. Worst of all was that it was caused by my mom being exposed to toxins from the local factories in Noril’sk, but working there was the only way she could have supported us. But he never felt sorry for himself over it. Never let it get him down no matter how bad things got. But then that bitch Reitman revealed the potion…” She stopped talking.

It probably went without saying what had happened, Tatiana continued, indicating there was more to this story.

“He saw the ponies, heard all this stuff about how amazing Equestria was, and he was convinced it was some great utopia, free of crime, of prejudice, and sickness. And since his cerebral palsy was caused by Mom’s exposure to pollution, he really believed we could learn something from the ponies. He even became a member of this environmentalist group with a whole bunch of other people and ponies. I should’ve realized it sooner… I should’ve seen something was seriously wrong about it all with the whole Jazmin Carter incident!”

Yon-Soo really wasn’t sure what to say to her. There was no way she really could’ve known, just like Porter couldn’t have known what would happen to Eun-Hee. 

She desperately wanted to lash out at something, but only attacked herself.

“You aren’t alone,” Aquamarine said to her reassuringly. “I promise. You couldn’t have known.”

“It still hurts though,” Tatiana said back, sniffling. “But it’s even worse.”

Yon-Soo frowned and raised an eyebrow at that. “What do you mean? What happened to him exactly?”

“Well… it was around the time the Three Weeks of Blood began. I don’t really know exactly what he must have seen or heard, but he just called me out of the blue and he sounded really scared. He said he didn’t have any time to explain, just that something really fucked up was happening and he wanted to get the hell out of the country as soon as possible. To America, the Pacific, anywhere that wasn’t Eastern Europe. I agreed and we planned to meet at the train station…”

“And he never came,” Sergei finished.

Tatiana shook her head and her whole body shook, anger taking over her features. “He was killed by them. He realized the truth, was planning to get out, and they just butchered him like an animal! I found a cop that said he saw his body. The HLF… they saw him halfway ponified, realized he’d been PER, and just...” Tatiana whimpered a little. “You don’t want to know what they did. Halfway between pony and human, anatomy is weird. Nightmarish. They call them… What do they call them in English?”

“Grotesqueries,” Sergei supplied.

“Exactly,” Tatiana said. “Doing an autopsy of one made Bogdan, one of our medics - he’s a former coroner - throw up all over the autopsy table. What the HLF did to Nicholas while he was like that...”

Try as he might, Yon-Soo couldn’t get that image out of his head. He suppressed the urge to vomit from the mental image his overactive imagination was giving him. Yon-Soo shook his head, and concentrated on the here and now. He put his hands on her shoulders reassuringly.

“I’m really sorry for what you’ve lost, Tatiana,” Yon-Soo said to her with utter sincerity. “But you shouldn’t punish yourself for what happened. I know that it hurts a lot. But I don’t think Nicholas would want you to kill yourself over him. He’d want you to keep fighting.”

“I know; it’s what’s kept me staying alive,” Tatiana said, her features hardening as she wiped her face off with her sleeve. “I lost everything to the Empire, and right now, things aren’t really looking too bright. So I figure I’ll go down fighting… and maybe do some decent deeds here and there.”

Aquamarine firmly said to her, “You’ve done more than decent Tatiana. You’ve done good.”

She smiled at that. “Thanks.”

Sergei then groaned and said, “Alright, can we break up the sentimental Oscar moment? We still have friends to save and we’re kind of on borrowed time.”

“Right,” Tatiana and Yon-Soo said in unison, both darting their eyes slightly to the opposite direction when they realized what just happened.

“Alright, I got it,” Yon-Soo said, tone getting back to serious as he took a knee before them all. “So… Tatiana, you said you’ve been able to get around their patrols and sentries for awhile now.”

“Yeah, pretty easy to do since most of them are looking for monsters with bright coats… eh… no offense,” Tatiana awkwardly added, looking at Comet and Aquamarine with a sheepish look.

“None taken. It’s just what they’ve been told,” Aquamarine said.

“How about taking them out?”  Yon-Soo asked.

“It can be done quietly, if that is what you mean. I’ve taken out dozens already ever since they set up here.” Tatiana held her bow up proudly. 

“How long before they notice they are missing their patrols?” Sergei asked, only to get a snort from Tatiana.

“They didn’t notice they lost four snipers and a patrol team for several days,” Tatiana replied with a satisfied smirk before she chuckled at the shocked expressions on the team's faces.

“What the fu–”

“Sergei!” Aquamarine cut him off with a vicious hiss.

“I mean… yeah I got nothing.” Sergei shrugged at the look Aquamarine was giving him while Comet giggled out loud.

“This is a dangerous area,” Tatiana explained. “As far as they know, there’s PER all over.”

“Moving on,” Yon-Soo pushed on. “Sergei and Aqua, you two are going to go through the tunnels within the Wall, take out whoever is in there and get access to the area. Aqua? You got the sound shield down, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Use that to muffle your approach. Hell, put it around Sergei so he can use his pistol and take out people without anyone hearing it.” Yon-Soo turn to Sergei, “I want you to set up an escape, since we will be causing massive havoc once the shooting starts. How much explosives you have?”

“I still have several packs of C4.”

“Good. Use what can to make a hole in the Wall, but use the rest to bring it down ontop of them.” Yon-Soo said, gaining stares from the entire group. “What?”

“You want me to… blow up the Great Wall?” Sergei asked quietly, Yon-Soo blinked and slowly nodded his head.

“Yes, if to cover everyone's escape. I think they would be more happy with being alive than concerned with what happens to the Wall.”

Sergei quickly stood, picked up Yon-Soo and gave him a tight hug. “My friend, I always dreamed of blowing up something of importance, to shock the world and become infamous! You have given me this dream and made it a reality?”

“I worry about you sometimes,” Comet sighed, shaking her head.

“What do you see in him?” Tatiana asked Aquamarine, confused.

“Most of the time he is really sweet,” Aquamarine muttered as she stared as Sergei happily bounded away to his rucksack, Comet trailing after him in flight. “And then there are times like this. I would've been scared of him, but after all I’ve been through, it’s just a quirk I grew to accept. Besides, I'm no better.”

“Why do you say that?”

Yon-Soo explained, “She has to be everyone’s mom here.”

“I do not!” Aquamarine huffed defensively.

Yon-Soo rolled his eyes and replied, “Whatever you say, Team Mom.”

As he stood up, Comet noticed something on the ground. “Hey, what’s that? You dropped something there, Yon-Soo.”

Yon-Soo frowned, realizing it was that piece of paper he’d gotten on the train just days ago. He shrugged and said, “Honestly, I’m not really sure. I just met this really weird man on the train and he left this behind.” As Tatiana picked it up, analyzing it, Yon-Soo asked, “You have any idea what language that is?”

“Beats me,” she shrugged.

Aquamarine stood up on her hindlegs to look at it, her eyes brightening. “I’ve seen this before. In my magic history class. That’s a spell.”

“What kind of spell?” Yon-Soo asked.

“If my memory serves me right… I think it might be for invisibility.”

Sergei quickly said, “Hey, that can work out for us! 

“Wait!” Comet interjected. “How did you get this?”

“Well, I have to warn you,” Yon-Soo said, “It will probably just raise further questions.”

“And this is something new how, exactly?” Aquamarine asked.

“Fair enough,” Yon-Soo said with a shrug. “When we were on the train, I took a seat next to this... crazy guy. He looked like a refugee, and his nose was bleeding almost constantly. Talked about some weird stuff too, and… I don’t know. He was speaking…”

He trailed off, struggling to find the right word to describe the experience.

“Cryptically? Mysteriously?” Sergei suggested. “Like he was kinda off his rocker?”

Yon-Soo nodded. “Yeah. Weird thing is, I don’t think he was even human. And then he got up to walk, and he just… vanished into thin air almost. All he left behind was this piece of paper.”

Everyone just looked at Yon-Soo, the expressions on their faces a mixture of shock and disbelief. And yet, at the same time, they couldn’t help but believe him. It was too farfetched to seem like make-believe.

“Sure,” Sergei sighed. “Why not? All this weird, mystical stuff you hear about, oracles, ghosts, other worlds, and it finally happens to us. Of all people.”

“Maybe it’s a sign!” Comet said. “Like a guardian angel or something is watching after us?”

“At this point, I’d have to feel sorry for him,” Yon-Soo groaned with a shake of the head.

“The shit we get up to, huh?” Sergei asked.

“Let’s do this,” Aquamarine said. “We can either… we can sit here talking about it, or…” she shook her head. “The more we think about it, the less likely we are to do it.”

“Alright,” Yon-Soo said with a nod, and a deep breath to steel himself as they headed for the HLF base. “We’re in.”
> Finale: The Horizon is WEIRD
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Finale: The Horizon is WEIRD



Pre-Readers/Editors


Sledge115


Doctor Fluffy


Vox Adam


TheIdiot


Jed R


“And… there,” Sergei said, placing the charges. “It won’t be easy. One twitch, and this goes boom.”

“But it will take out a whole bunch of them and make the remainders too disoriented and distracted?” Tatiana confirmed.

“In addition to causing an implosion,” Sergei added with a smirk. “Smoke and fire will do their work too.”

“That and more,” a new voice replied, causing everyone to immediately tense up. Sergei and Yon-Soo picked up their rifles, Tatiana unlocked the safety on the spare pistol she held in her belt, Aquamarine fired up her magic and even Comet assumed a fighting stance.

From the shadows, an earth pony mare emerged. She had a deep golden coat and a flowing yellow-green mane, one of her ebony eyes semi-hidden behind her long bangs. She trotted up to them with a strange smirk on her face with an unnervingly elegant and smooth grace.

“Relax,” she said, her voice a perturbing mixture of deadpan and monotone, “I’m no enemy. Obviously I’d be dead and mutilated beyond recognition already if I was with the PER or the Empire, right?”

The team looked amongst themselves, silently agreeing that the mysterious mare here had a point. However, they didn’t lower their guard still. There was something about her that just didn’t seem… right. And that wasn’t even taking into account the way she barely ever blinked, her gaze piercing. Much less why the HLF would be sparing her. So many questions...

“You’re not PER, but why should we trust you? HLF would’ve butchered you ten ways to next Tuesday either way just for being a pony,” Yon-Soo pointed out.

“Because I have important information for you guys,” the mare replied. “I know where your friends are. Porter Stanley, Firebrand, Blizzard Flurry, Khan Aitmativ, Ivan Melnik, and Mei Ling Yeung, right?”

That got their attention. They looked between themselves, still not entirely sure whether to trust her. After all, she could be trying to lull them into a false sense of security.

“Right now, your friends are being held hostage by that loudmouth Zhou and you’re here to rescue them. Porter is being forced into a gladiator fight to the death for the wannabe warlord’s sick twisted amusement, so time is of the essence. And even without me eavesdropping, I can tell you’re going to blow up a big section of the wall to throw them off guard. I'm here to help with that, and more."

“Wait,” Aquamarine cut in. “Just who are you anyway? And why do you want to help us?"

The mare answered, "My name is Pineapple Cutter. And there are two reasons why I want to help you. The first is simple enough - I actually kinda like you all. You’re nice, and you help each other out. Secondly, we both stand to gain something if we help each other out. You get your friends back, and I get to be free from… this.”

“Free from what?” 

Pineapple Cutter’s eyes went wider and the glint stranger, a reflection of some sort of glee to them.

“Well, you see,” she began, “destroying the wall will not only distract them, but open up something bigger. You are aware of the Fourth Wall, yes?”

For a full minute, everyone was quiet and utterly bamboozled.

“...wait, come again?” Aquamarine asked.

“The Fourth Wall,” Pina repeated. “The barrier between us and them.” She was pointing to something in some direction, but all Yon-Soo could see was the wall of the room they were in.

“Who are you pointing to? There’s no one here,” Comet pointed out.

“You can’t see them, but they can see you. They can see everything. You see, we’re in a story of insane proportions, and everything is beginning to unravel. The balance between the worlds has already gone off kilter with Equestria and Earth meeting, and it’s only going to keep getting worse. Realities will bleed into each other, causing disasters of epic proportions. We are being watched by many eyes across the multiverse as the chaos from this conflict spills out. But we can fix it, and once we do, we can all be set free.”

No one really knew how to react to this. For one thing, this strange mare, with a disturbing yet quirky aura, talking about the multiverse, the “Fourth Wall”, and that they were being watched? She couldn’t be serious, right?

“Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s crazy, but go ahead and just blow up the fuse. You’ll see what I mean.”

Everyone else looked at each other, then at the detonator.

The choice was simple.

Or maybe it was the only one they had.

“Do it,” Yon-Soo said firmly. Strangely enough, he was feeling a clear-headedness that he’d never felt before at any time in his life. “I still don’t know how much I can trust her, but things have gotten so crazy, I don’t think it’s much of a stretch. Plus, we got to save our friends.”

Sergei nodded. “Right. First, let’s get as far away as possible before we detonate anything.”

"Alright then, come on!" Pineapple Cutter called out, running past them. "We got things to save, shit to blow up and it’s time to get messy!"

Comet shrugged and said, "Well, what's the worst that could happen? Let's go!"

It took a good few minutes of coordinated sneaking around, which was easier thanks in part by Cutter’s knowledge of this area’s layout and encountering nearly no guards. It was very convenient; whether this was just a lucky coincidence or something else, Yon-Soo was not sure. But he sure as hell was not going to complain.

Eventually, they had reached a safe spot, a little ways away from the blast zone.

“You ready?” Aquamarine asked Sergei.

“As ready as I think I’ll ever be.” With a deep breath, he brought his finger down on the detonation button.

Over the line, they could see the explosion.

And with that boom, it all became weird.





With a roar, Porter drove the knife right into the challenger's eye, blood splattering everywhere. The other man screamed momentarily in pain before going silent and limp as Porter nudged the knife upward, a sickening squishing sound emitting from the wound.

"Come on, Mister Warlord, is that the best you got?! Are you not entertained?!" he yelled out, posing in a taunting motion towards Zhou, waving the knives around. His arms were stretched upward, clearly invoking the famous gladiator pose.

Zhou growled, but was careful not to show his annoyance. He knew Porter was fueled primarily by the desire to spite him. But he knew the other man was still only human and had limits. It was only a matter of time before he broke down…

*KABLAM*

“What the hell?!” Zhou hissed in aggravation. His other captives, Porter’s teammates and friends who had all been tied up and only able to helplessly watch as Porter was forced to fight for his life, turned over, hope now glimmering in their eyes.

And then he turned to see what was going on over at where the explosion happened, and his jaw dropped in utter confusion and bewilderment.

A massive stampede of things burst forth from the portal that came into being at the explosion site. There were massive 50 foot tall robots of varying colors releasing missiles and rockets from compartments in their shoulders and chests; kaiju-like monsters, from a massive dinosaur screeching a roar as it unleashed an energy beam out of its mouth, to a giant moth of all things, and a massive gorilla, all stomped on and smashed everything in their path, sending the Blood Tigers and Solar Empire cronies scrambling and screaming for their lives. 

There were spaceships and star cruisers of varying sizes, shapes, and colors. They swirled through the sky, shooting lasers all over the place, destroying buildings and barracks, unleashing explosions that would make Michael Bay jizz himself. 

Human fighters like brightly colored ninja warriors, all of the Power Rangers, superheroes of all kinds, wizards with long beards and big staffs glowing with magic, gun-toting cowboys, sword wielding pirates, and… was that Abraham Lincoln dual wielding a pair of AK-47s?!

Monsters and beasts and all manner of odd creatures, from armies of orcs, elves, dwarves, and dragons, ran all over the landscape, trampling over everything before them. Nothing and no one was safe.

Except for our heroes, of course.

“Haha! Take that, you ruffian!” a man’s voice yelled out from behind Zhou, suddenly plunging a sword into the warlord’s chest before he could react. Zhou could only stammer and stumble aimlessly in confusion and pain as life drained from him before he fell down dead.

Zhou’s killer looked like some kind of pirate, laughing as he wiped the blood off his sword before turning to the others, seeing they were restrained. "Well that won't do, will it?" He said before he took out a dagger and cut the ropes around Aitmatov's wrists. Once he was free, the pirate winked and then ran off to rejoin in the rest of the chaos. 

Porter meanwhile could only look on in amazement, when he wasn’t running around or ducking for cover. It was like every epic crossover he’d ever wanted as a kid just came to life. He would be excitedly fanboying over this, in fact, if he wasn’t plain confused and a bit scared for his life right now.

“Porter, over here!” he heard Blizzard, now untied, saying behind him. She was flying towards him, forelegs outstretched. With a nod, he grabbed onto her hooves and she flew up high, taking him to a spot outside of the mayhem alongside Melnik, Aitmatov, Hyong-Jin, Mei Ling, and Firebrand, where they all just watched it all play out in astonishment from a distance.

“So… anyone have any theories for what the actual fuck is going on out there?” Porter asked. No one (even Porter himself) was sure if he was seriously asking or was just being rhetorical.

Hyong-Jin replied, “Well, one thing’s for sure, we need to find the others.”

“Good idea. But how do we do that?”

As if on cue, a grey and teal spaceship parked on the ground next to them. It opened up to reveal a skinny elderly man with frizzy silver hair clad in a white labcoat and a brown-haired teenage boy in jeans and a yellow shirt.

“Come on in!” the scientist said, belching. Pointing to a monitor, he continued, “We got your friends’ location right here!”

The teen boy added, “Look, I know it’s a lot to take in, but trust me, you have no reason to not trust us. We’re on your side. Generally.”

“Generally?” Firebrand asked, raising an eyebrow at that. “That’s not really reassuring.”

“Just get on,” the scientist said. “Not like you have any options.”

Everyone looked at each other and shrugged. At this point, they were just too tired and confused to care.

And if they died?

Well, they supposed they’d have it coming.

So they boarded the ship, strapping themselves into a chair as the craft began to take off. As they flew overhead, Porter looked out of the window again, watching the pop culture battle of Infinity War level proportions play out.

“What the fuck was that, the movie version of Ready Player One?” Porter asked.

“No! We do not speak of Ready Player One. It makes Twilight look like award-winning literature by comparison,” Melnik spat with a full body shudder.

“The movie was admittedly a bit better though,” Blizzard retorted. “Or at least they got rid of the worst parts of the book while making it.”

“Product placement,” the scientist said with a critical frown. “It is worse than I thought.”

Everyone felt a chill at that. But before they could ask for any elaboration, the craft lowered and landed on the ground. Everyone undid their seatbelts and stood up. When the doors opened, they were greeted by a welcome sight.

“You’re alive!!” Comet screeched happily, jumping up and flying to tackle Blizzard and Firebrand into a hug. The two older pegasi were initially rattled but then smiled and returned the embrace, just as happy to see that she was alive too.

“Okay, seriously though, what the hell happened back there?” Mei Ling asked, pointing to the now destroyed section of the Great Wall. She then turned to the old scientist and the teen boy and asked, “And just who are the two of you anyway?”

The scientist stumbled and said through a slight belch, “Okay fine, I’ll *urp* do the whole intros thing. Hi everyone, I’m Rick. This is my grandson Morty. I already know all your names, so no need to introduce yourselves to me.”

“Okay, hello Rick and Morty,” Mei Ling said cordially. “Now, could you please explain to us what you meant by things being worse than you thought?”

Rick sighed and replied, “Well, like pony April Ludgate was saying here, you all are part of a bigger, wider universe!”

Yon-Soo gritted his teeth in annoyance and replied, “Well we already kinda knew that, but what’s the point you’re trying to get at?”

“This universe is in stasis, but if you come with us, you will live on,” said Morty. “Er, that’s at least the short version. Kind of. It’s complicated.”

Rick shook his head and added, “What he means to say is that a malevolent force of darkness and hate that seeks to only divide and kill is fully infecting everything, and you’re caught up in it.”

“What, it wasn’t already?” Pineapple Cutter asked sardonically, raising an eyebrow.

The teen boy simply replied, “It’s best not to question Rick’s… erm, logic.”

“No, uh, I *URP* mean, you coulda ended up like, uh, that thing, Morty! With, uh, where your universe, uh, converged with another one, but there were too many broken things about this one for them to coexist.”

“That British crossover? The one with the knights and Arthurian myths and power armor?” Morty asked.

“The very same, Morty!”

“Wait, hold on. Are you saying our universe is inherently broken?” Sergei asked.

“I…” Rick looked uncomfortable for a fraction of a second, then brushed it off. “Yeah. Basically, yeah. Not the worst one I’ve ever been in, but, yeah, some cracks here and there. Some small and barely worth a concern, others as big as the Grand Canyon.”

No one really had any idea what they were going on about. 

“How can a universe have cracks in it?” Yon-Soo asked, confused. 

“Well, you know, a lot of logical inconsistencies. Things that don’t necessarily make sense.”

“Like the HLF?” Morty added. 

“No, Morty, that’s-” Rick started. Then stopped. “Actually, good point. Or the fact that, despite the ponies being a m-*URP*-magical e-empire, none of you were faced with magic or anything that posed much of a threat.”

Porter mulled it over and nodded, “You know, he kinda has a point.”

“We’re really going to listen to this?” Yon-Soo asked, confused.

“Well, think about it,” Porter said. “I mean, really think about it. I mean, they rarely use magic besides stealing our guns…”

“And the fact that the Barrier is seemingly the only real threat to anyone,” Aquamarine noted.

Hyong-Jin added, “And you really have to wonder where the HLF would get such a seemingly limitless supply of remorseless psychopaths.”

“I dunno, Liverpool or s-*URP*-something?” Rick asked. “The general audience of William Lind? Look, y-y-you’re missing the point. This universe isn’t going to die like how Alex Warlorn did to G3 MLP, but things here have gotten… too big for its own weight.”

“Um, guys, what do we do then?!” Comet asked in a near panic. “He said our universe is broken!”

“And are they going to get their sequel?!” Morty asked. “You don’t want this to become Asia Side Story Forever!”

“Outdated references as always, Morty! Duke Nukem Forever was released pretty - *URP* recently, you’d be better off making a joke about Half Life Episode 3,” Rick said. “I mean, uh, look at Light Despondent. They never got to Episode 3! Man, did the writer miss out on a good joke there when they were uploading all the unreleased material.”

“So we weren’t in a universe where Duke Nukem Forever was never released?” Morty groaned. “I really wanted to leave that behind in our old universe.”

“What do you care, Morty?! You were too young to play it.”

Morty looked downcast. “Dad was a big fan. He actually thought it was going to be good!”

“...somehow, your father has become even more pathetic,” Rick sighed. “That’s…” he paused. “Actually, that’s one hell of an accomplishment.”

No one had any comment or response to that. The look of indignant anger mixed with silent compliance on Morty’s face spoke enough. 

“Why do you want to help us?” Aitmatov piped up. “So far, you’ve been pretty fucking nonchalant about everything, like the fact that our universe is fucking broken! What are you trying to pull?”

“Nothing, I swear!” Rick said steadily, holding his hands up. “I figured that I could give you guys a new thing to go on. Your adventures in this universe aren’t working out, but maybe, out there beyond, you can find the freedom to do what you want.”

That… didn’t sound too bad. Something in this universe had been feeling a bit odd lately. Maybe something new was what they needed. And as long as they had each other to support and have the others’ backs, they would survive anything thrown at them.

Everyone else looked at one another, looking to see if they were on the same page.

Porter then nodded and was the first to speak. “Why the fuck not? We’ve got nothing else left to lose. I just expect a beer. I really fucking need one. A shower would be nice too.” He jumped into the ship and took a seat, strapping himself in.

Yon-Soo followed, adding, "After everything that's happened today, this isn't much stranger. I mean, it's better than staying in something that's breaking apart, right?"

Their words appeared to vocalize everyone else’s thoughts, and they all looked at each other momentarily before nodding and getting into Rick's ship. As they strapped themselves in, Rick exclaimed, “And hey, who knows, maybe your story is being retold in another way!* Now let’s get going, because *urp* we’re going to new horizons, bitches!”

“Horizons are stupid,” Pineapple Cutter quipped, yet she buckled herself in securely.

“Hey, don’t talk shit about my favorite game with the robot dinosaurs!” Rick yelled.

“Are you sure it won't kill us? Going through the wormhole, that is,” Hyong-Jin asked as Rick began revving up the engines of the ship, pushing a few different buttons.

“Eh, other than feeling a little nauseous, no,” Morty replied.

And with a whir and a whoosh, Rick punched in the coordinates, the craft lifted off slowly from the ground and flew them up to the sky and into the wormhole. For the first few minutes, it was quiet and uneventful, but then a notification popped up in Rick’s messages. 

After reading it over, he grumbled, “Damn it, what do I look like to her?”

Morty looked at the message and dryly replied, “Well, I mean, she has a point. They deserve to be saved too.”

“Wait, who and what? Are we getting others?” Blizzard asked.

Rick groaned, clearly not wanting to go along with this, but he made a vow and it was one he had to keep to, so he turned and answered, “Yeah, I have to get… uh, let’s see here… Gale, Frost Wind, Snowdrop, Blizzard’s parents, Aitmatov’s daughter, and a couple others.”

Everyone’s blood ran cold at the first name but then Sergei and Aquamarine turned to each other and both said at the exact same time in the same assertive tone of voice, “I think we need to break up.”

Both were dumbfounded initially, as was everyone else. An awkward silence took hold, no one really knowing just what else to say.

Aquamarine was the first to speak as she said, “Honestly, I was just lonely, but… I’m so sorry Sergei, I don’t think I can do this. I like you, but thinking about it now, I think I’ve just jumped into it just to feel something again.”

Sergei shook his head and replied, “No need for you to apologize. I… that was kinda fucked up of me to guilt trip you.”

“You didn’t guilt trip me, I swear.”

“Maybe that’s how you see it, but honestly, I shouldn’t have put that on you. Plus… I gotta wonder if we just kinda came together because of circumstances, you know?”

Aquamarine thought about that and said, “I guess you’ve got a point about that.” After a moment of somber silence, she then asked in a small and somewhat scared voice, “Could we still at least be friends though? Be the Drax to my Mantis?”

Sergei laughed and said, “Of course! I need someone to bounce ideas for my stand-up routine off of and you’ve been the best help I’ve ever had.”

At first, everyone would’ve sighed in relief at how the now ex-lovers were still friendly with each other, but then Comet angrily interjected, “Uh, no! I’m not on board with this!”

The pink filly angrily got out of her seat and said, “You two got together because you loved each other! You were supposed to be a new dad for me!” She pointed at Sergei as she said this.

“A new dad? Comet, be reasonable,” Aquamarine scolded. “You can’t expect Sergei to go from your friend to father figure. That’s unfair to him, and that’s unfair to you.”

Comet then turned to Rick. “You’re seriously rescuing him? You’re really going to take Gale here, after he chose the Empire over his family?”

“Yeah, I’m seriously gonna rescue him, kiddo,” Rick said bluntly. “I mean, come on, your dad, who you loved by the way, was brainwashed. He hasn’t been doing any of this shit out of his own free will so don’t be a brat to him when I retrieve him and break him out of it.”

“Wait, brainwashing? Huh?! What is going on here?!” Hyong-Jin cried. “I’m so confused!”

“Yeah, care to elaborate, Rick?!” Firebrand shot out.

Everyone else was similarly in a tizzy. Pineapple Cutter and Morty were the only ones who weren't caught up in the chaos, as everyone had questions and were now demanding answers.

Rick roared, “Quiet down! Damn it, shut the fuck up, all of you!”

Everyone quieted down and Rick, after taking a deep breath, continued, “Okay, so I’ll explain it in the simplest of terms right now, since you have a right to know. Alright, so basically a point of divergence occurred in your Equestria where an artifact of doom called the Bag of Tirek has corrupted Princess Celestia, turning her into a xenocidal tyrant. The Bag of Tirek is the instrument containing the malice and hatred of the evil centaur Tirek, who’s basically kinda like Darkseid in that he wants to enslave all living beings to his will and kill off everything related to the souls and even consciousness itself. The Bag has also gotten its claws into your Equestria, brainwashing everyone, including Gale. Specifically, he’s being held under an obedience geis, which shouldn’t be too hard to break him out of with the right equipment.”

“Ugghh, my head seriously fucking hurts!” Tatiana bemoaned, massaging her temples as she tried to process this. She spoke for everyone, who agreed that getting doozies of revelations dumped on them in rapid succession was a real pain in the ass, on top of everything else.

Morty sadly nodded and reassured her, “Don’t worry, it’ll get easier.”

“Alrighty, now that we’ve *urp* got that out of the way, let’s get going. I’m sure you’re all as eager for this to stop dragging out as the rest of us are.”

Comet tried to protest, “But-”

“No buts, Comet!” Aquamarine interrupted her daughter sharply. “You heard what Doctor Rick said. Your father is going to be saved and cured of his brainwashing and you’re not going to hold the things he’s done while under it against him. Now sit down, put your seatbelt back on, and think about what you’re going to say to your father.” Her expression then turned a bit lighter and even a bit teasing as she added, “Plus, you heard what he said about Frost Wind. I bet you must miss him a lot.”

Comet tried to talk back against that, but she had nothing, especially as her face began to darken from the blush, mouth agape with embarrassment at how her mother just so casually could talk about Frost in front of everyone. So with that, she deflated and went back to her chair… and thought about him. She really did miss Frost, and maybe, just maybe they could get this right.

And with that, the little crew rode through the cosmos.

For a few minutes, it was generally quiet. And then another whirring sound filled the air, a blue police box materializing in the middle of the ruins.

Two figures stood… somewhere. Perhaps it’s best, given everything that’s happened, not to wonder where, exactly. Both were humanoid: one was a dark-haired man in a Nehru-collar jacket with a blue rosette on his lapel, hands clasped behind his back and a stubbly goatee on his face. The other was a red-headed man in a tweed coat. Behind them was a grandfather clock and the tall, wooden blue box. 

“You know,” the man in the Nehru jacket began, “I’m surprised you never got involved with this lot.”

The redhead smiled. “Even with a time machine, one can only be in so many places at once.”

“Hmph,” the man in the Nehru jacket snorted. “And I suppose, Doctor, that Kraber took too much of your attention.”

“That’s hardly fair,” the Doctor said. He sniffed. “Kraber’s ubiquitous. Can’t avoid the man.”

“I thought you liked him.”

“I do, but the point stands,” the Doctor said. “Besides,” he added, gesturing expansively. “This lot didn’t need my help.”

“You could say the same for this whole world,” the man in the Nehru jacket pointed out. “And yet you stayed for so long.”

The Doctor smiled again. “Yup.” His smile faded. “Maybe too long. There was a lot in this world that was… painful.”

“And yet it’s clear why you stayed,” the other man said. “It's your stubborn streak, Doctor, combined with that foolish desire of yours to do something, even when ‘something’ is some vague notion of sacrificing yourself for some imagined greater good.” He tutted. “One wonders whether you have a persecution complex, a martyr complex, or both.”

The Doctor snorted. “I still can't believe They sent you as their messenger boy.”

The other man shrugged. “They granted me a reprieve and a few spare regenerations in exchange. I suspect They’ll regret it in due course, but it's not my business.”

The Doctor frowned. “Well. Did you really have to…”

“Enact Their punishment on your alternate self?” the man said with a smirk. “Of course. The weapon I used allowed him to regenerate. I'm sure he's off doing something else. In the meantime, I managed to track you down before you came here.”

“And tell me it's all futile,” the Doctor lamented. “Temporal instability, changing histories… this world’s collapsing under its own weight and there's nothing I can do. I hate that it's come to this.”

The man in the Nehru jacket shrugged. “For myself, Doctor, I suggest you do something simpler. Return to some variant of our timeline, fight some Daleks, and step back from this madness.”

“Is that what you're going to do?” the Doctor asked.

“Well, I’m going back to my own timeline, yes,” the man said with a slow smile. “I'm going to finish the job of taking over our cosmos before I start going out to other ones.”

“Odd, that you’d limit your ambition,” the Doctor said with a snort.

“Not limit, merely set reasonable goals,” the man replied. “One cannot run before one walks. One cannot Master a multiverse if one cannot rule a universe.”

The Doctor laughed. “You're incorrigible, no matter which ‘you’ it is.”

The Master shrugged. “I am, like you, a man of my own convictions. It pains me that yours have led you to such ends as this… squalid little place.”

“Oh, I wouldn't call it squalid,” the Doctor argued back with a wistful smile. He put his hands in his pockets. “I actually enjoyed being here. Sometimes. It was fun in the beginning. And maybe it will be fun in the end.”

The Master snorted. “In any case. What will you do?”

The Doctor looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Well, whatever I do,” he finally said, “it’ll be for me. No more obligations to other people. At least not for a while. Whatever I do, whoever I do it with, it’ll be my choice.”

The Master nodded. “I look forward to our next meeting. I trust you’ll put your best foot forward.”

“Always,” the Doctor said, inclining his head. “And you.”

“Inevitably,” the Master said. “Until then.”

He walked away, disappearing into the grandfather clock, which disappeared in a wheezing cacophony a moment later. A few moments after that, the Doctor sighed.

“One day,” he said to no one in particular, “I might come back. I might come see if there's something new to find here. Some new people to meet. Some new story to hear. Some way to help. I tried to help here, and I thought, for a while, that I might have… but not really.” He sighed again. “It's a shame. I was looking forward to seeing how they finally defeated Tirek. If they could save Queen Celestia.” He smirked. “Vinyl Scratch’s big party as well, if she even lived to see it. Ah, and the Weaver. Yes, that would have been interesting to see - and to see how everyone else reacted.” His smile faded. “It was an interesting time, but maybe this was inevitable. Crushed under its own weight.” He looked up at the sky. “One day, I might come back. And when I do, we’ll see what happens. Maybe, somewhere out there, the same story is being told a different way.” 

He smiled, and this time he looked right at you. 

“Let's go have a look, eh?” he asked you. Then he blinked. “Oh, don't look so surprised. Of course I knew you were there. I was sitting there with you for a very long time, long before I decided to step in and add my two pence.” He smiled. “It's been a ride, hasn't it? But all rides end. But then, new rides start up again. Everything ends, and everything begins.” He winked at you. “Until next time. Have fun, you lot. Enjoy whatever comes next however you like, and be kind, whatever you do.”

He went back into his TARDIS and the blue box began to fade away. The story went on, even if no one was around to tell it. The heroes and the villains fought, and one won. 

Life continued.